Inkstains entry, 3-1: Foot

[1stmate]

When they first appeared, it was a bit of a shock. You'd expect that, though, so everyone just enjoyed the surprise until it wore off. Before a month was out, it wasn't uncommon to see a Yarm or two while going about your regular day. I won't say we got used to the spines, but they were more of an exotic haircut, in most people's minds. We did get used to the purple, though. Eventually.

But they weren't that much different, really. Evolution works the same everywhere. That Darwin had some pretty good ideas. So the Yarms looked mostly like us, but purple. Two arms, two legs, a torso, a head. They were just … purple. With little spikes coming out the top of their heads. So, yeah. Exotic cousins from another galaxy. More technologically advanced, sure, but I wouldn't say they were any smarter than us. They had the same blowing-each-other-up problems that we've always had. Smarter with numbers, then, but not with other Yarms. Not that I can fault them. Trying to relate to a Yarm and have a conversation? Hoo boy. Quite difficult.

There were two essential groups of them that came in the beginning. One of these groups was just your basic nerd club, hanging out in the street, watching humans, recording data, and generally gibbering away in their native language until one of them remembered that they weren't at home. The other group, well equipped for potential warfare, began negotiations with our government. Trade negotiations, see. Tourism. Preemptive treaties and the like. That part went pretty well. Then they started to talk actual trade. That's where I come in.

Well, that's where I just happened to walk in. See, I'm not one of these fancy guys who gets to talk to the aliens and make the big decisions. I'm the guy who sweeps the floor when those guys are done talking. But that day, one of the head honchos managed to dump over the trash can and decided to be too busy to clean up after himself. So I'm just over there in the corner, picking up the trash and plotting messy ways to get back at him when this is all over, when I hear the biggest Yarm start to laugh.

I don't know how they got this one lost in translation, but when a Yarm laughs, you want to start looking for a bomb shelter. It's not a happy sound of joy and fun. All these world leaders start looking a little uneasy, and I repositioned myself behind my cart of cleaning supplies. Nothing to see here!

"We have given you the language you know."

Everybody was nodding, tripping all over themselves to thank him for that concession to our stupidity as a species. My opinion? If we'd been sitting over the Yarm planet for six years, doing nothing but watching their TV and listening to their radio, we'd know their language, too. That's hardly something to get so excited about. But nobody asked me, so I just stayed crouched out of sight.

"We are meeting you on your own planet instead of demanding a halfway point for trading."

Well, no shit, bucko. It'd be kind of hard for us little Earthlings to meet you halfway when you won't even help us build our first intergalactic spaceships. But no matter, I can understand wanting to keep some secrets, even if it does make me a little twitchy about you maybe plotting to blow up the planet while we're helpless.

"All we ask in return is that you use our system of measurement."

I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Really? That's what this is all about? Getting upset because your kilogram doesn't match our pound? It's a miracle that Earth as a whole ever agreed on one standard unit for anything. Forget other planets, too. Besides, I look back now and wonder what the big problem was, anyway. Find out the ratio of Yarm units to feet and do the math. Label what you give them with their units. Not that hard, even for a janitor. But no:

"I think not! We as a planet have only just reached a consensus on our own standards of measurement, a process that took hundreds of years. We are not about to upset that fragile balance for some purple ponce!"

Oh yeah. That was England. Bloody brilliant England, charging in to save the day and stand up for human rights against the evil evil Yarms.

I don't really know what happened next. The biggest Yarm stood up and sort of roared in his native language for a while, beat on the table, and then walked out. Gathered up his army and his nerds and flew away. That was thirty years ago, and we haven't seen them since. Kind of stupid, huh?

Comments

[ex_pippin880]

I don't get it. It's set in the past when everywhere used imperial measurement? The Yarm gave us metric measurement? (I think England would have been Britain by that point?) There's only one human language and only one Yarm language??

[so_wordy]

Hi 1stmate! I'll be your editor this week. You requested a light edit, so I'll try my best to provide some feedback for you. Let's take it paragraph by paragraph.

When they first appeared, it was a bit of a shock. You'd expect that, though, so everyone just enjoyed the surprise until it wore off. Before a month was out, it wasn't uncommon to see a Yarm or two while going about your regular day. I won't say we got used to the spines, but they were more of an exotic haircut, in most people's minds. We did get used to the purple, though. Eventually.

You start the story out in a very familiar voice. It's relaxed, almost careless when reading. I feel like a friend or neighbor (someone in a bar) is recounting this tale to me. It's in past tense so the audience knows that this has happened before and is being recounted.

In your quest for familiarity, I feel as though you slipped into becoming too general at times. Some sentences (like the second one in the first paragraph) can be omitted or reworked.

You'd expect that, though, so everyone just enjoyed the surprise until it wore off.

You already mentioned in the previous sentence that people were shocked. As this second sentence doesn't state anything new, it's really not needed. Plus, your paragraph seems to flow better without it.

But they weren't that much different, really. Evolution works the same everywhere. That Darwin had some pretty good ideas. So the Yarms looked mostly like us, but purple. Two arms, two legs, a torso, a head. They were just … purple. With little spikes coming out the top of their heads. So, yeah. Exotic cousins from another galaxy. More technologically advanced, sure, but I wouldn't say they were any smarter than us. They had the same blowing-each-other-up problems that we've always had. Smarter with numbers, then, but not with other Yarms. Not that I can fault them. Trying to relate to a Yarm and have a conversation? Hoo boy. Quite difficult.

The first few sentences are a tad confusing. Rewording them like this works much better:

So The Yarms looked mostly like us: two arms, two legs, a torso, a head. They were just … purple with little spikes coming out the top of their heads. [...] They were exotic cousins from another galaxy. (the original way you wrote it is a fragment).

Other than that, (in this paragraph) be careful of using "so" and "yeah." Instead of becoming casual conversation jargon, it can detract from the strength of your piece.

There were two essential groups of them that came in the beginning. One of these groups was just your basic nerd club, hanging out in the street, watching humans, recording data, and generally gibbering away in their native language until one of them remembered that they weren't at home. The other group, well equipped for potential warfare, began negotiations with our government. Trade negotiations, see. Tourism. Preemptive treaties and the like. That part went pretty well. Then they started to talk actual trade. That's where I come in.

I get the feeling you're comparing the aliens to immigrants. Is that your goal? Be careful here though, you want to separate the aliens as "others" from humans. Making them too similar could very well make your story drag.

Well, that's where I just happened to walk in. See, I'm not one of these fancy guys who gets to talk to the aliens and make the big decisions. I'm the guy who sweeps the floor when those guys are done talking. But that day, one of the head honchos managed to dump over the trash can and decided to be too busy to clean up after himself. So I'm just over there in the corner, picking up the trash and plotting messy ways to get back at him when this is all over, when I hear the biggest Yarm start to laugh.

This is where it gets interesting for me. The reader finds out that the narrator is janitor. It's a tasty reveal that could be emphasized more.

I don't know how they got this one lost in translation, but when a Yarm laughs, you want to start looking for a bomb shelter. It's not a happy sound of joy and fun. All these world leaders start looking a little uneasy, and I repositioned myself behind my cart of cleaning supplies. Nothing to see here!

"We have given you the language you know."

Nothing to see here isn't really necessary. The tension is more palpable without it. As far as the Yarm speaking, I'm not quite sure what you mean. Which language? English? Speech? The written word? This needs to be made clearer.

Everybody was nodding, tripping all over themselves to thank him for that concession to our stupidity as a species. My opinion? If we'd been sitting over the Yarm planet for six years, doing nothing but watching their TV and listening to their radio, we'd know their language, too. That's hardly something to get so excited about. But nobody asked me, so I just stayed crouched out of sight.

"We are meeting you on your own planet instead of demanding a halfway point for trading."

Well, no shit, bucko. It'd be kind of hard for us little Earthlings to meet you halfway when you won't even help us build our first intergalactic spaceships. But no matter, I can understand wanting to keep some secrets, even if it does make me a little twitchy about you maybe plotting to blow up the planet while we're helpless.

"All we ask in return is that you use our system of measurement."

I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Really? That's what this is all about? Getting upset because your kilogram doesn't match our pound? It's a miracle that Earth as a whole ever agreed on one standard unit for anything. Forget other planets, too. Besides, I look back now and wonder what the big problem was, anyway. Find out the ratio of Yarm units to feet and do the math. Label what you give them with their units. Not that hard, even for a janitor. But no:

Clear, concise, and humorous. I love that the narrator's thoughts are at odds with his reaction to the aliens in the story.

"I think not! We as a planet have only just reached a consensus on our own standards of measurement, a process that took hundreds of years. We are not about to upset that fragile balance for some purple ponce!"

Oh yeah. That was England. Bloody brilliant England, charging in to save the day and stand up for human rights against the evil evil Yarms.

I don't really know what happened next. The biggest Yarm stood up and sort of roared in his native language for a while, beat on the table, and then walked out. Gathered up his army and his nerds and flew away. That was thirty years ago, and we haven't seen them since. Kind of stupid, huh?

I'm not quite sure what you're trying to say in these last few paragraphs. Your plot turn is so sharp that I don't follow. You talk about time ("hundreds of years" for standard measurement, but the reader doesn't know what period we're in). Also, I wonder how the British mustered enough courage to speak with such audacity after cowering in fear in front of the Yarms.

You have an arc set up developing this story, so the ending isn't as satisfying for me. The narrator starts off telling us something very interesting, but it ends tied up very neatly (we don't know how, but the aliens just left because they couldn't get what they wanted ... even though they have spaceships capable of intergalactic space travel and advanced weaponry). As a reader, it gives me a cheated sort of feeling ... kind of like the receiver of this tale would be asking, "what was the point?"

1stmate, you have the beginnings of a good piece. Keep on writing! I hope this edit helped. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask!

[1stmate]

Thank you for the edit! I was a bit pressed for time at the ending; I see now that it really doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Hopefully next time, I'll have a little more time to work on it! Thanks for taking the time to read over it for me, so_wordy!