A Story Rejected (part 1)

[Beruthiel's cat]

I recently submitted the following to a small press science fiction/fantasy publication. They returned it with a very nice rejection letter and some comments. I thought I'd submit it here for additional comments.

This is an original story, not Tolkien-based. I saw a comment in a book that said that there is no mention of the domestic cat in classical mythology. So, I figured I'd create a myth. (What's good enough for Kipling...)

Read. Enjoy. Comment. (Thanks!)


DOMESTICA
by
Beruthiel’s Cat


The whole idea had been regarded with great skepticism. They were, after all, wild and intractable creatures. They did what they wanted to do and would not bend to any type of discipline. Their usefulness was dubious. They were not really edible, nor did there seem to be any other practical purpose for which they might be employed. Except for their predisposition to protect food storage areas, there seemed to be no reason to attempt to train them. It seemed a mad notion. Other than that, what could they possibly do for us, the leaders wondered. Could these beasts be domesticated? Would they truly be beneficial?

The learned community was deeply divided over the idea. The general impression was that the creatures were somewhat opportunistic by nature and would take advantage when living in close proximity with a more advanced species. At best, it was argued, they could perform slight service. It was theorized that if one were to obtain young specimens, they might be easier to control. A bond could be formed at an early age, ensuring more cooperation.

So it was decided that someone should at least attempt to lure one of these peculiar beings, gain its confidence and determine whether it could trained.

Ptaal was chosen to be the first to attempt direct contact. He had spent quite a bit of time observing them, becoming familiar with their ways. He felt it was a good time to proceed. Caution was needed, he said, since these were wild creatures, capable of attacking without warning. Indeed, one reason there was resistance to the idea that these beasts could be useful was their capricious nature and their documented tendency to unprovoked violence. They could kill creatures much larger than themselves very easily and very efficiently.

Ptaal took up his usual observation post at the edge of the wall near the granary. A young one soon appeared. He had observed this particular juvenile specimen before. It was usually in the company of an adult female and other juveniles. Today it was in the company of an adult male. Unusual. Ptaal had not observed this behavior before. Puzzling and intriguing – additional evidence of their unpredictability.

The adult eventually left the youngster in a protected, shady area of the garden adjacent to the granary complex. It was highly unusual for an adult to leave a juvenile unprotected. This was a departure from previously observed behavior. A soft, dry breeze gently slipped through the underbrush. Ptaal quietly moved in for a closer look, careful to remain downwind. It would do no good to cause alarm.

The youngster was quiet at first, and cast a glance or two in Ptaal’s direction, but soon became restless and wandered into other areas of the garden. Ptaal had observed similar behavior from this particular juvenile before. It seemed to show a certain curiosity about its surroundings as it poked and prodded the various flora, almost exhibiting play behavior.

Within a very short time an adult, clearly a female, came to the garden and greeted the youngster. The female sat quietly in one spot, while the youngster alternately remained quiet and wandered about, occasionally looking toward Ptaal’s shelter. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the youngster might also be female, as it closely resembled the adult female in its markings. It was also somewhat more controlled and quiet in its movements than the young males he had observed.

Ptaal settled himself in a place where he could easily watch the youngster, yet not draw the attention of the female. Eventually, the juvenile wandered closer to the place where he was concealed. It sat down quietly, a few yards away – and made eye contact with Ptaal.

It was all Ptaal could do to stay perfectly still. He didn’t want to alarm the creature, but he felt vulnerable now that he had been noticed. The youngling kept still too, for some time, but then began a slow, deliberate approach. Stalking behavior.

Ptaal felt a thrill of danger, knowing this was uncharacteristic behavior. He could not allow himself to retreat. The youngster had not made any direct threat display. This opportunity might not present itself again. He had to see it through.

End of Part 1

[Beruthiel's cat]

(continued from first post...)

He stood up, very slowly and deliberately, keeping his eyes locked onto the young creature’s, taking a tentative step toward it.

The youngster also crept forward. It struck Ptaal that he was as much the observed as the observer, another jarring reminder of the strangeness of the creature before him.

Ptaal and the young creature moved closer to one another, in a wary dance, step by cautious step. Time stretched on as they circled each other, eyes locked together. At last they were mere inches apart. They stood, an invisible wall separating them, the tension a palpable thing, too afraid to take the one step that would bring them together in a contact that might change them forever.

Then something appeared at Ptaal’s feet. A small, dead rodent. He hadn’t seen it before. Somehow the creature had produced it without his notice. It alarmed, but also fascinated him.

The young creature remained motionless, watching Ptaal. It then pushed the tiny corpse closer to him with its foot! It was offering it to him, giving him a gift, as one might give an offering to a god. Ptaal was astounded. If this was any indication of the temperament of the creature, it boded well.

Ptaal slowly picked up the offering. He looked at the young creature with renewed curiosity. The youngster was far less feral than he had previously thought. Yes, the creature was of a lesser species, but it exhibited patience and a surprising degree of intelligence.

Ptaal was anxious to tell the others of these observations, but they were not yet complete. Physical contact had to be made and his safety had to be assured.

He crept the remaining few inches and touched the youngster’s forefoot with his nose, sniffing. Much more could be told by the sense of smell than by visual observation. The youngster smelled of water and dirt, of sand and of itself – the union of river and desert – the way all these creatures smelled. Clean and dirty, dry and damp, all at the same time.

At Ptaal’s touch the creature uttered a sound. Ptaal flinched slightly. He had noted that these creatures vocalized frequently, often in patterns that seemed to mean something to others of their kind. But this sound didn’t seem to have a meaning. It was a random sound, almost a sound of delight.

Ptaal touched the creature again, this time rubbing its extended forelegs with his cheeks, chin and face, with the rest of his long, lithe body. Another sound of delight from the youngster, a gentle, tentative stroke in return.

Ptaal’s own sound of delight came unbidden from deep within him, as it had when he was young and at his mother’s breast. “These creatures are good! They are kind!” His heart sang.

“All we have to do is delight them!”

Ptaal gave his report to the others. He recommended that as many as possible make contact with these creatures because establishing a relationship with them would benefit both species.

Later, he sought out the youngster in her evening shelter. She had left a piece of meat for him. He ate it and walked over to her sleeping den. Slow, even breathing told him she had surrendered to the night. He lay down next to her, her soft breath gently ruffling his fur.

Purring came from a bottomless well inside him, as the child’s hand covered him in a gentle caress.

End

Comments anyone??

[brownjenkins]

the flow and style is very good

you might want to give it a bit of a setting up front... i'm assuming ancient egypt, maybe "Along the banks of the Nile outside Bubastis..." (which is named after the cat-goddess Bastet)

do a bit of research about the time to give it some more "flavor" and maybe tie it in with the cat worship that developed in that area

and change some of the terminology like "leaders" to something more fitting (elders?)

you could also add in some conflict, maybe the cat trying to grab fish from the Nile and getting pulled in... Ptaal rescues... not necessarily that basic... but a bit more tension/resolution and time in which the trust develops

[Tessar]

The only error I can see right now (other than a few little grammar/wording type things that are just nit-picky) is that in the whole story you never, ever used the word 'cat'; unless I just managed to totally miss it.

I understand the idea of 'keeping them guessing' (mwahahaha, just ask Arat ) and all that, but not telling us what the heck you're talking about at all is a bit of a stretch.

I would've guessed, of course, what kind of animal it was, but it's very annoying to never actually have a confirmation that what you're guessing is true. It'd be like saying 'The Nighthawk pounced on him with a familiar clanging sound and began blasting away violently at his shield' and not telling what a Nighthawk is. I mean it's clearly a robot... or is it? It could be an animated metal beast of some sort.

I found it interesting for the first paragraph (it kept me reading with one of those ‘Hehe, I know what she’s talking about’ grins on my face), but then annoying afterwards that there was never any confirmation.

Now when I'm saying this I'm saying it objectively, you had already said it was a cat before the story started, but I'm talking about someone who would see it in a magazine and probably without the comments (unless of course the comment goes before the story, but even then I think my feelings still stand ).


Ooooooooother than that though, it was short, snappy, and to the point. I think it was a worthwhile read, and very creative . Nice work and good luck with it if you plan to change it and then send it back in!

[Beruthiel's cat]

Thanks!

brownjenkins, you point out some things in terms of setting that have already occurred to me. And I like the "elders" suggestion.

Tessar, I didn't use the word "cat." I'll have to think that one over. I'm not sure I really want to...(ponder, ponder -- I'll get back to it later...). It's a POV thing. (*scritch, scritch*hmmm* do you smell smoke..?) I do, however, plan on reworking it and probably re-submitting it. One of the critiques they sent suggested I do just that. (Of course, this was the guy who didn't think the story was finished...) BTW, I don't mind nit-picky grammar things. If they distract, they shouldn't be there!

I intend to work on the story some more and will post the New and Improved (?!) version when I have it ready. (Suggestion -- breath-holding is a really bad idea.) I'm sure it will be slightly longer, but I can see I need a bit more exposition. I knew that before I posted it.

I'd certainly welcome additional comments from anyone else who wants to wade through this.

Thanks again

[Rosie Gamgee]

Yeah, I would definately add more archaic-sounding language, to give it a feel of antiquity and mythology.
I was under the impression in the beginning that it was people domesticating cats, and then I realized it was the other way around. Cool! I think (if you meant to do that on purpose, maybe it was just me being slow) that it's a great angle.
Another thing- I would suggest toneing down the 'leaders' thing. It gives a feeling of some academic society, which is something that I don't think cats would have. Just a suggestion.

Overall:
GREAT STORY! I liked it a lot. I think you should definately send it back in!

[Beruthiel's cat]

Thanks, Rosie!

I do mean it to be cats domesticating humans. They have, haven't they? (I am a cat-slave, bound to Jasper the great and powerful Tabby of the House of Albemarle).

The old quote is "Write what you know." Having had cats in my life since the age of 5 (a birthday present. I was adamant! "I want a kitty!" She turned out to be bad-tempered and mean. Here I am, some __ years later, still subjecting myself to their whims!), I think I understand them pretty well.

By way of background, feral domestic cats usually live in groups and have a hierarchy, as do farm/barn cats. Maybe I can bring in an elder/family angle, as has been suggested.

So much to think about...

[Rosie Gamgee]

Yeah, we've got three barn cats at home, and ever since our tom-cat, Satchmoe, died, my cat, a big, tough old tabby, has been the boss. It's really quite amusing to watch them interact with each other, and you can just tell who's on the top of the totem poll, y'know. btw, I love cats. My mom doesn't really like them, though, and it doesn't seem that I'll ever get a house cat (well, until I move out, I guess).

[The Gaffer]

I think it's great how you start off thinking it's a human domesticating a cat, then turn it around at the end.

I wonder if you could build up a more emphatic transition of the style: at the start, it's quite rational-sounding, and quite abruptly becomes sensuous, like where the cat nuzzles the child. You could gradually introduce more information about the sounds and smells of the surroundings to give this effect. Or maybe have the cat decide to claim ownership (perhaps there's some territorial thing going on) by rubbing its face against the child. The competitive element could be used earlier on to make it seem that Ptaal has some rivals who might claim credit, or something.

Anyway, groovy!

Anyway, you now know that cats tamed humans so they could get milk from cows without getting their heads stepped on.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Thanks for the comments, Gaffer! Speaking as a domesticated human, it was fairly easy for me to come up with the idea. Now it remains up to me to improve and re-submit. And I intend to do just that!

(My cat has me trained too well. He's on medication. Since his jaw has the power of Lok-Tite pliers, I cannot adminster the pills merely by popping them down his throat. Instead, they must be crushed and served mixed into canned cat food. And not just any canned food -- the expensive kind. And not just any expensive kind -- the expensive kind with gravy...P.T. Barnum said it best...)

[The Gaffer]

I'm not surprised that he insists on the best quality, but I am surprised that he doesn't spit out the pill crumbs after scoffing the lot.

I take it you've tried wrapping him in a towel then pulling his head back until his mouth opens involuntarily? Your hand should be in the same position as if you were going to stroke his head, but with thumb and forefinger under the upper jaw on each side just below the cheeks. Pull his head back gently, his mouth will drop open then in goes the pill.

This has always worked for me (though I don't currently have a cat, so am out of practice) though it's easiest if you've got someone else to hold the brute while you do the head-prising and pill-popping.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Tried it. He's intractible! And I'd never subject my housemates to holding him while I tried it. I have to live with these people and my landlady isn't all that fond of Jasper as it is. (She has three cats, one of which is a psycho case, so she can't say too much). The best thing about the system I've got now is that Jasper is really a greedy little bugger when he gets what he wants. With the gravy, he licks the bowl clean -- voila! Medicine administered, no mess, no fuss, no scars!