Putting It Together; Turning Sow's Ear Drafts into Silk Purse Stories Part 2

"Not even one."

"I wonder why not?" mused the men.

"There wasn't any wild to return us to."

"Ate yourself out of your environment, eh?" said the men.

"You have two guesses left," replied the elephants.

"Well, what's past is past," said the men. "We don't even remember what happened to the last elephant on Earth."

"Pretty much the same thing that happened to all the rest of them," said the elephants.

"Is he stuffed and mounted somewhere?"

"Not somewhere-everywhere," answered the elephants. "His right ear, which resembles the outline of the continent of Africa, has a map painted on it and is in the President's Mansion in Kenya. They turned his left ear over-and you'd be surprised how many left ears were thrown away over the centuries before some man somewhere thought of turning them over-and another map was painted, and it now hangs in a museum in Bombay. His feet were turned into a matched set of barstools, and currently grace the Aces High Lounge in Dallas, Texas. His s.c.r.o.t.u.m serves as a tobacco pouch for an elderly Scottish politician.

One tusk is on display at the British Museum. The other bears a scrimshaw and is in a store window in Beijing. His tail has been turned into a fly swatter, and is currently in the possession of avaquero in Argentina."

"Well, evenyou will have to admit that we didn't waste anything," said the men.

"There are those who would say you wasted a very valuable living ent.i.ty," said the elephants.

"Probably some beggars who wanted the meat for free," said the men, obviously unimpressed. "So that was the last elephant before you guys?"

"The last on Earth," the elephants corrected them. "You shipped one to the Moon for the purposes of scientific study."

"We don't remember anything about that. What happened?"

"You studied him while he sickened and died because of the gravity and the food."

"Well, that's the way you find these things out," said the men with a ma.s.sive group shrug. "He was the last, huh?"

"Almost. After you terraformed Ganymede, you made twenty clones of the great Ahmed of Marsabit, the only elephant ever to be protected by Presidential Decree. When the scientists were finally through studying them, you recouped your costs by letting twenty sportsmen each buy a five million dollar license to hunt one down and shoot it."

"Well, that makes sense," said the men approvingly. "Science has got to start paying for itself."

The scientists uttered a mighty"Hmmph!" at that, turned on their heels, and returned to the ship.

"So they killed all twenty?" continued the men, trying to ignore the scientists.

"Yes," replied the elephants. "The very last words of the very last elephant, who understood that men could not help being men, were 'I forgive you'. He was promptly transported to a sphere higher than any man can ever aspire to."

The men looked up to the sky. "Can we see it from here?" they asked.

"Of course not."

"Well, when we take off again, maybe we'll have our ship's sensors look for it."

"You do that," said the elephants, sounding sardonic as only Neptunian elephants can.

"So anyway, that brings us up to date," said the men. "What have you been doing here while we were conquering the solar system and curing the common cold?"

"We discovered the Unified Field Theory," answered the elephants, "but we realized that it wasn't important in the true scheme of things. We have developed an almost perfect ethical system which is based on selflessness, forgiveness, and family values. We have taken the rudimentary work of Kant, Descartes, Spinoza, Thomas Aquinas and Bishop Barkley and amalgamated it into something far more sophisticated and logical, while never forgetting to incorporate emotional and aesthetic values at each stage."

"You don't say!" said the men enthusiastically. "It sounds fascinating!"

"Thank you," said the elephants.

"We wonder, though," continued the men, "if you've come up with anythinguseful ?"

"We can show you the most efficient means of terraforming a planet. We have developed advanced agricultural methods that will triple your productivity at one-tenth of your current cost. We can even show you the secret of faster-than-light s.p.a.ceflight."

"What about cold fusion?" asked the men.

"We're working on it," said the elephants.

"Well, now, like we said, that's fascinating stuff," said the men, staring at the elephants. "And while we're thinking of it, what happened to your trunks?"

"We've reached the state where we can evolve physically by the sheer force of will alone," said the elephants. "We thought you'd feel less threatened if we became smaller and less intimidating."

"That was very thoughtful of you," said the men, "and we deeply appreciate it." They paused. "We're going to return to the ship for lunch now, but we'll be back in a couple of hours to continue this discourse."

"Fine," said the elephants. "We feel that this represents the first step of a wonderful new understanding between humans and pachyderms."

The men returned to the ship, and all agreed that the elephants were truly remarkable beings.

This conclusion was reinforced when they emerged after lunch, and found that the elephants had, in less than two hours, eliminated every physical feature for which they had ever been hunted. Tusks, ears, feet, even s.c.r.o.t.u.ms, all had undergone enormous change. In fact, the elephants looked just like human beings, right down to their three-piece business suits, alligator shoes, and matching briefcases.

The men concluded that it was the most impressive display of evolution they had ever seen.

They shot them all anyway-some habits are more deeply ingrained than others-but they spent the whole trip back to Earth talking about how truly interesting elephants had become.

Discussion of the first draft of "The Elephants on Neptune".

It's a strange story, and you're allowed some leeway with strange stories, but there are some pretty obvious blunders here: 1. As Carol (my wife and frequent uncredited collaborator) pointed out, by the time you're 500 words into it, you know the ending. There's no misdirection, no red herrings, no nothing to divert you from watching it play out to an inevitable (which is okay) and obvious (which isn't) conclusion.

2. Everyone speaks with pretty much the same charming voice. There's not much in the way of characterization here, and that's precisely when the voices have to be different.

3. Beginner's mistake: just because I found it when researching doesn't mean I had to put it in the story. Most obvious example: what the h.e.l.l does Robert Ruark's testicular cancer have to do with elephants on Neptune, Earth, or anywhere else?

4. OK, I think scientists can be a pain in the a.s.s when they're being territorial about prerogatives, but there are better venues in which to make that argument. They had no business whatsoever being in this story.

5. I knew when I sat down to write the first draft that the men would kill the elephants. I knew it when I sat down to write the second draft.

But in between, I took to heart Carol's suggestion that it was too predictable. I don't think anyone, halfway through the final draft of the story, can see the change coming. And since this is a fable, I think the moral has more of a bite: no matter how you start out in life, once you become a man, killing becomes an instinctive habit.

Once I knew I was going to do that, I got rid of what had always been deadwood, but was now obvious even to me. There was some cute stuff-the list of the 10 greatest men, for example-that had to go, because it simply didn't serve the needs of the story.

When I reconceived the plot, I thought it might work to open by showing the elephants leading exactly the idyllic life they lead in African game parks-and then to hit the audience with two surprises: first, the line-quite portentous in this context-about how they never forget no matter how hard they try, and then, less than 100 words later, to have them speak to the s.p.a.cemen. If I hadn't transferred their life to the opening page, had started the story after that s.p.a.ce seven paragraphs into it, those two things would have seemed silly rather than funny/charming.

A final comment: the first draft was probably good enough to sell to a minor market. One of the biggest challenges to an established writer who can sell almost anything he writes is never tosettle -not for saleable, not for minor markets, not for anything but his best ... because if you settle enough times, you will no longer be an established writer who can sell almost anything he writes.

THE ELEPHANTS ON NEPTUNE.

by Mike Resnick The elephants on Neptune led an idyllic life.

None ever went hungry or were sick. They had no predators. They never fought a war. There was no prejudice. Their birth rate exactly equalled their death rate. Their skins and bowels were free of parasites.

The herd traveled at a speed that accommodated the youngest and weakest members. No sick or infirm elephant was ever left behind.

They were a remarkable race, the elephants on Neptune. They lived out their lives in peace and tranquility, they never argued among themselves, the old were always gentle with the young. When one was born, the entire herd gathered to celebrate. When one died, the entire herd mourned its pa.s.sing.

There were no animosities, no petty jealousies, no unresolved quarrels.

Only one thing stopped it from being Utopia, and that was the fact that an elephant never forgets.

Not ever.

No matter how hard he tries.

When men finally landed on Neptune in 2473 A.D., the elephants were very apprehensive. Still, they approached the s.p.a.ceship in a spirit of fellowship and goodwill.

The men were a little apprehensive themselves. Every survey of Neptune told them it was a gas giant, and yet they had landed on solid ground. And if their surveys were wrong, who knew what else might be wrong as well?

A tall man stepped out onto the frozen surface. Then another. Then a third. By the time they had all emerged, there were almost as many men as elephants.

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned!" said the leader of the men. "You're elephants!"

"And you're men," said the elephants nervously.

"That's right," said the men. "We claim this planet in the name of the United Federation of Earth."

"You're united now?" asked the elephants, feeling much relieved.

"Well, the survivors are," said the men.

"Those are ominous-looking weapons you're carrying," said the elephants, shifting their feet uncomfortably.

"They go with the uniforms," said the men. "Not to worry. Why would we want to harm you? There's always been a deep bond between men and elephants."

That wasn't exactly the way the elephants remembered it.

326 B.C.Alexander the Great met Porus, King of the Punjab of India, in the Battle of the Jhelum River. Porus had the first military elephants Alexander had ever seen. He studied the situation, then sent his men out at night to fire thousands of arrows into extremely sensitive trunks and underbellies. The elephants went mad with pain and began killing the nearest men they could find, which happened to be their keepers and handlers. After his great victory, Alexander slaughtered the surviving elephants so that he would never have to face them in battle.

217 B.C.The first clash between the two species of elephants. Ptolemy IV took his African elephants against Antiochus the Great's Indian elephants.The elephants on Neptune weren't sure who won the war, but they knew who lost. Not a single elephant on either side survived.

Later that same 217 B.C.While Ptolemy was battling in Syria, Hannibal took 37 elephants over the Alps to fight the Romans. 14 of them froze to death, but the rest lived just long enough to absorb the enemy's spear thrusts while Hannibal was winning the Battle of Cannae.

"We have important things to talk about," said the men. "For example, Neptune's atmosphere is singularly lacking in oxygen. How do you breathe?"

"Through our noses," said the elephants.

"That was a serious question," said the men, fingering their weapons ominously.

"We are incapable of being anythingbut serious," explained the elephants. "Humor requires that someone be the b.u.t.t of the joke, and we find that too cruel to contemplate."

"All right," said the men, who were vaguely dissatisfied with the answer, perhaps because they didn't understand it. "Let's try another question. What is the mechanism by which we are communicating? You don't wear radio transmitters, and because of our helmets we can't hear any sounds that aren't on our radio bands."

"We communicate through a psychic bond," explained the elephants.

"That's not very scientific," said the men disapprovingly. "Are you sure you don't mean a telepathic bond?"

"No, though it comes to the same thing in the end," answered the elephants. "We know that we sound like we're speaking English to you, except for the man on the left who thinks we're speaking Hebrew."

"And what do we sound like to you?" demanded the men.

"You sound exactly as if you're making gentle rumbling sounds in your stomachs and your bowels."

"That's fascinating," said the men, who privately thought it was a lot more disgusting than fascinating.

"Do you know what'sreally fascinating?" responded the elephants. "The fact that you've got a Jew with you." They saw that the men didn't comprehend, so they continued: "We always felt we were in a race with the Jews to see which of us would be exterminated first. We used to call ourselves the Jews of the animal kingdom." They turned and faced the Jewish s.p.a.ceman. "Did the Jews think of themselves as the elephants of the human kingdom?"

"Not until you just mentioned it," said the Jewish s.p.a.ceman, who suddenly found himself agreeing with them.

42 B.C.The Romans gathered their Jewish prisoners in the arena at Alexandria, then turned fear-crazed elephants loose on them. The spectators began jumping up and down and screaming for blood-and, being contrarians, the elephants attacked the spectators instead of the Jews, proving once and for all that you can't trust a pachyderm.(When the dust had cleared, the Jews felt the events of the day had reaffirmed their claim to be G.o.d's chosen people. They weren't the Romans' chosen people, though. After the soldiers killed the elephants, they put all the Jews to the sword, too.) * * * *

"It's not his fault he's a Jew any more than it's your fault that you're elephants," said the rest of the men.

"We don't hold it against either of you."

"We find that difficult to believe," said the elephants.

"You do?" said the men. "Then consider this: the Indians-that's the good Indians, the ones from India, not the bad Indians from America-worshipped Ganesh, an elephant-headed G.o.d."

"We didn't know that," admitted the elephants, who were more impressed than they let on. "Do the Indians still worship Ganesh?"