Of 'Elf & Bear' (and Quite a Bit of Autobiography)

Of ‘Elf & Bear’

Elf & Bear began as a drawing that I did in Mrs. Hardcastle’s English III class in high school, which would put it in the 1979 -1980 school season. Something about the pair as drawn, the bear obviously hungry and mischievous, and the elf dignified and fussy, appealed to me as a pair of characters. You must understand I had not set out to depict them with such characteristics; those were revealed in the drawing and when it was done appeared almost inevitable, their persons solidly (to me) There.

So it appeared to the few people that I showed the picture to, especially my brother John. We both agreed that here were some characters I could hang a story around if I could just come up with a suitable tale. The proper narrative never presented itself at the time, however, though I did produce several more pictures of the pair that were of varying quality. I also made a small clay figure of the bear, wearing his muffler; that fell apart over the years. The bear was always just called Bear, but the elf for a time was named Hopgood (of Hopgood Hill), until I finally settled on Thornbriar (of the Field Folk).

And there the matter stood for almost twenty years, simmering away on the back burner while I struggled through life, until the last year of the twentieth century. By then I was in a pretty good place. I was living at home, taking care of Mom as always, but finally getting recompensed by the government for doing so. I was 36 years old and I felt that if I was ever to be a writer it was time I buckled down to it. I had two likely matrixes for a book, the story I called “The American Fantasy,” which would later become A Grave on Deacon’s Peak, and 'Elf & Bear’, for which I never did find a satisfactory title. Though “AF” had a definite storyline (delivered in an actual dream), I settled down to work on Elf & Bear, not knowing where it would go.

I started on the old principle that if you write one page a day, by the end of the year you’ll have a 365-page book to work on, to revise, rewrite, or finish. I began writing (longhand) in a Staples Wireless 1-Subject red notebook, college ruled, with perforated edges for easy removal of pages, and when I filled one up (not always using every one of the 80 pages for the book), I would begin another one. By the end of the project, I had about 10 notebooks in a stack. But much would happen before then.

Because as I neared the end of the book and was happily contemplating finally finishing a creative project, Mom’s health took a turn for the worst and she died after a few weeks, suffering from undiagnosed liver problems. She was only 56. The shock and the grief of her death overshadowed any creative efforts for quite a while. Being able to present her with the complete book had been one of the impulses that had driven me forward, to show her that I had some little talent, that I wasn’t just marking time until I died. After what seemed like forever, I pulled myself up and completed the book, partly as a tribute to her love and faith in me.

What also helped enormously was that I was able to buy a computer when Uncle Bernie at last concluded the sale of Nanny’s house, and what was to have been Mom’s share of the money was divided up between Pop and us kids. In a burst of hopefulness, I finished Elf & Bear, and then began transcribing it into computer files, rewriting as I went along. But I also should have been making a paper copy as I went, however, as the day came (before I could even complete that part of the project) my computer fatally crashed and once more stalled my progress in despair and gloom.

That is, until Mike moved back into the house with me and Pop. By that time, I had a new computer and, in an effort to perhaps at last sell my book, Mike helped me to transcribe and polish the chapters, he being an editor of no mean talent and skill. We spent many hours with me reading the manuscript out loud to him and he tapping it out, making suggestions as we went along, until at last Elf & Bear stood whole and done. I made a paper copy and a thumb drive, and there it was at last, safe and sound. While we were trying to figure how and where to shop it around, I actually began the first chapter of “American Fantasy”, with Mike providing several ideas and notes on how it might proceed. It looked like I was on my way. Then Pop died.

Though Pop left me the house, I did not have the resources to keep it up, especially in the wake of the flood that had destroyed our well. I partially moved into Susan’s guest house to help watch the kids and to cook for them, while Mike stayed at Loop Drive to care for things and struggle along with his job until something could be done about the water. Then Mike suddenly died, just short of two years after Pop, and without his impetus to help me publish, Elf & Bear as a project went into eclipse, and there it remains.

I have, of course, written and published A Grave on Deacon’s Peak (AKA “American Fantasy”) since, and every now and then I think about Elf & Bear as a possibility for publication, but I tend to come to the conclusion that it’s probably not worth it.  It is rather uneven. Every chapter is its own short story (except the three chapters about Bear’s brother), making it episodic in nature, and if there is a through line or a theme it is difficult to discern. Here is how I would rate the chapter episodes:

Chapter One Goblins: B

Chapter Two Apples: B+

Chapter Three Witches: C-

Chapter Four Inspector Elmtree: C-

Chapter Five The Doll: A

Chapter Six Midsummer Fair: B-

Chapter Seven The Flood: A+

Chapter Eight Athenor: A

Chapter Nine Bear’s Brother: B+

Chapter Ten The Mission: B

Chapter Eleven The Rescue: A

Chapter Twelve Home Again: B

Of all the chapters, I believe I would be most inclined to post The Doll and The Flood as standalones here on the Niche. Athenor, though I think it is rather good, I consider best to be read in context.

And there, as I say, it stands. I shall always think fondly of it despite the trials it has cost me and be grateful for what skills I developed while working on it. Whether I shall ever think it worth the effort to get it up to where I think it ready for publication I cannot say. It has already undergone so many changes and twists on the path I dare not prophesy what the future holds. Perhaps, after I am gone, some niece or nephew will pat it into shape and publish it in memory of me.