How
many writers does it take to change a light bulb?
Six. One to change the bulb, and five to say they
could have done it better.
I want
to make perfectly clear that the following idea, and some of the writing, is
not mine. I hope
that’s clear. I’m not taking any credit here. This was purely an exercise in seeing a flaw
in a story and working through it.
This,
in many ways, is exactly how I got into writing. I remember reading Suldrun's Garden by Jack Vance, and being struck by some wonderful
opportunities that, to me, seemed missed.
To my young mind, I thought I could rewrite some of the passages and
create a “better” book. I was wrong, but
the concept of inspiration from another’s work is a very real thing. A twist on a common tale is exactly how many
authors get started.
At
the bottom of this exercise, I will share the link to the original post. You can then decide if I’ve succeeded or
failed in this endeavor.
“Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?”
In the darkness,
Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much
strength. Slowly, light replaced the
darkness, and soon vision followed. At
the foot of his bed stood his wife.
Calvin wet his
dry lips and spoke hoarsely, “Did . . . did you . . . find him?”
“Yes, dear,”
Susie said, smiling sadly. “He was in
the attic.”
Susie reached
into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin couldn’t help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.
“I washed him
for you,” Susie said. Her voice cracked
a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.
“Thank you,”
Calvin replied. He reached up his hand,
weathered and shrunk with age, and gently stroked Susie’s face. “Would you mind leaving me with Hobbes for a
bit? I’d like to catch up with him.”
“Of course,”
Susie said. “I’ll go eat something in
the cafeteria and be back soon.”
With a sudden
but gentle strength, Calvin stopped her.
Lovingly, he pulled his wife into him and gave her a passionate kiss.
“I love you,” he
told her.
“And I love you,”
Susie replied. She turned and left, but
not before Calvin saw the tears stream from her face.
Calvin smiled,
turned to face his oldest and dearest friend.
“Hello
Hobbes. It’s been a long time, hasn’t
it?”
Hobbes was no
longer a stuffed doll, but the big, furry, old tiger Calvin had always
remembered.
“It sure has,
Calvin,” Hobbes said. His grin was as
wide and playful as always.
“You . . . haven’t
changed a bit. Calvin smiled.
Calvin
laughed. “Tigers are known for their
common sense.”
Hobbes gave Calvin a poke. “You married Susie Derkins. I knew you liked her!”
Hobbes gave Calvin a poke. “You married Susie Derkins. I knew you liked her!”
“Shut up!” Calvin
told him, but his smile grew bigger.
“Tell me
everything I missed. I want to know what
you’ve been up to!”
Calvin did. He told him everything. How he and Susie fell in love in high school
and married after they graduated from college.
How he had three kids and four grand kids. How he’d turned Spaceman Spiff into one of
the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on.
“You know . . .
I visited you in the attic a bunch of times,” Calvin said.
“I know.”
“But I didn’t
see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal.”
Calvin’s voice
broke and tears of regret started to well in his eyes. His throat constricted and a tight knot
formed across his chest.
“I’m sorry,”
Calvin said. He sobbed and hugged his
best friend. “I’m so sorry. I broke my promise. I said we wouldn’t grow up and that we’d be
together forever.”
Hobbes pulled
the little boy into a warm embrace, and patted him on the back.
“You didn’t
break your promise,” Hobbes told him. “We
were always together. In our dreams.”
“We were?”
Calvin asked. Hope and a little
excitement entered his voice.
“We were,”
Hobbes assured him. “Well, Calvin, are you ready to go out and play?”
“Sure thing,
Hobbes,” Calvin said. He bounded to the
floor, bent on one knee, and tied the loose lace of his shoe. “What should we do first? A rousing round of
Calvinball? A downhill run in the wagon? Or a meeting of GROSS?”
“Whatever you
want,” Hobbes smiled
Calvin reached
for Hobbes’ outstretched hand, and caught a glimpse of the hospital bed behind
him. He turned to see an old man, eyes closed, with a peaceful look on his
face, and a slight smile.
“Who's the old
guy?”
“What old guy?”
Hobbes said, confused. He scratched the
top of his head as only a tiger can. Calvin looked around. The sun was shining, the grass and trees were green. He saw all the favorite places where he played with Hobbes practically every day.
“Are we going, or what?” Hobbes asked.
“Are we going, or what?” Hobbes asked.
“Of COURSE we're
going,” Calvin replied. He looked around for the old man, shrugged when he couldn't find him, and turned
to join Hobbes. “It's TIME to go, isn't it?”
Hobbes nodded
sagely. “It sure is.”
“Hobbes,” Calvin
said, his voice for once small. “I'm glad I'm going with a friend.”
“Everyone
should,” Hobbes replied.
Once
again, I want to make clear that I’m taking no credit for this. As I said, it was an exercise that I deemed
worthwhile today.
No comments:
Post a Comment