Does anyone have tips for getting readers on Ao3? I'm just starting to get more into it. (I'm mostly going to do movie rewrites, I think). I would like to get more interaction and make friends too.
Chapter 3 of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite is up on AO3. Read here: Link
The rewrite explores Magnifico as the protagonist with Asha and Amaya as villains, and Star Boy comes into the story later.
In this chapter, Magnifico holds an interview and meets Asha for the first time.
Blurb: It was noon the following day, and Amaya had promised to return within the hour with the most promising candidate she’d been able to find. Magnifico waited in his Wish Chamber, a hidden chamber inside his observatory that stored every wish he’d been given, but never yet granted.
He reached out so one of the wishes alighted on his finger. The wisp flickered, leaving a trail like sparks of hope in its wake. The king admired the aspiration, and the sense of longing it radiated made his heart ache, like a tune somebody used to know, then forgot, and heard once again in the distance. He let the wish, light as dandelion fluff, ascend into the swirling cloud of others above him, where they danced in a radiant sky-revel, with stardust pirouettes and leaps.
Magnifico knew from poetry that wishes weren’t always what people should want, but rather, what they did want. They were mysterious flower buds that would unfold and unfold, and might never stop unfolding, until the world was overrun with the complications of them, unless someone did something to stop their consequences.
His people needed to trust his wisdom, for he’d spent the last eighteen years studying the complexities of fate, and now recognised when the time was not right for a wish to unfold. The most challenging aspect of being a sorcerer was dealing with the unanswered wishes, because his subjects could fervently ask for something, believing it to be good and necessary, yet it was not always what was truly best for them. But why their wishes remained unanswered was a mystery to them.
“I opened Pandora’s box by learning sorcery to grant wishes, but now I have a key, and can lock it up again when I need to,” the king told himself, though he was never at peace despite the fact. “But soon,” he leaned against a windowsill, “I will have someone to assist me, should anything go wrong. . .”
Amaya had told him the candidate's name, and assured him that this time, she had complete confidence in her abilities. What had she said the candidate’s name was again?
Gently, Magnifico traced the brass filigree of an old armillary sphere, its interlocking rings representing the orbits of celestial bodies. He studied its familiar patterns, remembering his own days as an apprentice, guided by his mentor's steady hand, and he listened to the faint, melodic hum of the wishes’ hopeful song. It filled him with peace.
A jarring shriek pierced through their tune. Magnifico spun so fast his sphere toppled off its perch on the table.
“Someone is in my tower.”
Despite the horrific noise, the king made his expression calm, though a sinking sense of dread filled him as he feared for each delicate piece of equipment in his observatory. “I suppose this is the best candidate Amaya could find,” he thought sarcastically. “I should never have allowed our meeting to take place here. What was Amaya thinking? Well, I’ve got to give them a chance. . .”
But as Magnifico emerged from his Wish Chamber, the picture was worse than the one his imagination had leant him. A young woman had stumbled in with the grace of a toddler, and attempted to make contact with his book of forbidden magic, evident from enchanted wasps encircling her, which he’d conjured as a safety precaution, to materialise if anyone but him touched the glass case protecting the manuscript.
The girl swatted her arms like a wild monkey, continuing to shriek as the enchanted wasps buzzed in a menacing symphony around her, and Magnifico felt a wave of pity, because she thought they could sting when they were only meant to confuse and to scare. He’d almost raised his voice to yell, but the girl was turning pink, clearly embarrassed, and Amaya had thought her worthy of coming here. There could still be virtue underneath, in spite of this careless accident. He mustered patience.
“No, no,” he laughed, making his presence known as he reentered his observatory. “Asha, is it? That book is forbidden.” Though he hurried forward, he maintained a calm composure. “Now hold still. I’ve got it.” As he raised his hands to summon the swarm, he tried to make light of her mistake. “You can’t have known, but I put, ahem, a spell on the glass guarding this book. It is actually very, very dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Then why would you have it?” Asha, still waving her arms, sounded as if she was going to cry. “I only wanted to touch the etchings around the glass because they were pretty.”
She was so worked up she slipped, and almost kicked King Magnifico in the face just as he’d gathered all the wasps into his hands. Before they could force their way from his grasp, he called up all the magic he could, and shot them back at the case, which they melted into, becoming nothing but ornate carvings once again.
Magnifico sighed as he shut the case, then he rubbed his hands off on his robes. “A king must be prepared for everything. I hope there will never be a time this book needs to be used. Are you all right?”
“No,” said Asha, in what sounded like a whine.
Magnifico was going to overlook this, but then Asha ploughed on in a show-offish sort of ramble, “I mean yes. And I understand if you think I’m, like, totally weird and you want me to leave right now and never show my face again.”
“That would certainly be for the best,” thought Magnifico, but Amaya’s words made him curious whether Asha actually had some mysterious talent not obvious at first sight. “Let’s not over react,” he said instead. “You’re here; you’ve certainly got my attention.” He turned, and wriggled his fingers so a quill leapt into the air, ready to take notes on a bit of parchment he’d laid out on a desk.
“So go ahead; tell me why you think you should be my apprentice.” He waited with hope in his heart.
“Well,” said Asha, in the tone of someone telling a joke to their friends, “I care too much.” Then she paused, as if waiting for a laugh.
“Ookay,” said Magnifico, as hope packed its bags and took a one way trip from his heart. He waited for her to say something else, anything to imply she had some selfless intention, but she just continued staring, as if waiting for a reaction.
“That’s interesting,” said Magnifico finally.
“It’s my weakness,” she burst out, and looked so pleased with herself Magnifico thought she was going to laugh at her own incompetence.
“I see.”
“Figured I might as well get through all the bad stuff right up front,” she ruined her own joke by blabbering on too long. She was clearly used to being surrounded by a group of friends who laughed at everything she said, and was trying quite hard to be quirky.
“Fair enough.” Magnifico already couldn’t wait to send her away. This was not the way someone with common sense acted before the king. It reminded him far too much of eighteen years earlier, when no one had shown him any respect. But he would get through the rest of the interview for Amaya’s sake. He breathed out. “And your strengths? Do you have any?”
“Glad you asked, I have many.” Asha brushed her box braids behind her ear, then pulled a vellum book from her pocket. “I’m a hard worker, and I help well, and I’m young and malleable, and I like to draw.”
Magnifico grasped for something in all these cliches. “You like to draw?” he latched onto the most useful of these irrelevant skills. “And how long have you had this ability?”
At this, the first glimpse of sincerity appeared in Asha’s eyes, and she opened her book to detailed life gestures she’d sketched of goats and lambs. “A long time.” She flipped through more pages of life-like scribbles. “It’s something my father taught me,” she told the king with a proud smile.
When Asha said this, a distant, half forgotten memory stirred inside Magnifico, and he peered closer at the young woman's annoying face.
“I think I remember your father.”
“You do?”
“He was a philosopher, was he not? Had great magic running through his blood. Always warning people about the consequences of getting whatever your heart desires.”
Asha’s eyes glazed over at the last part, but she eagerly started talking about herself again. “Oh yeah. We used to climb that tree by the high ridge in the Hamlet, where I’m from, to look at the stars, and he said they were there to guide us.”
“Your father said a lot more than soft soap like that. He was a very wise man. Did you learn much about his philosophies?”
“Not really. After he got struck by lightning, he wasn’t able to take me out at night as much anymore. I used to want to make a wish that he would get better. But the electric shock left him with lots of burns, and his heart finally stopped one day.”
“I’m sorry. How old were you when he passed away?”
“I was twelve years old.”
Magnifico finally glimpsed something recognisable in Asha, so he attempted to dig a bit deeper.
“It’s not fair, is it?” he asked, taking a gamble as he searched her face for that sincerity again. “When I was young, I too suffered great loss.” He wasn't sure Asha would pay attention as the subject changed to something other than herself, but he went on, determined to finish, because whether she listened at this moment would decide everything.
“Years ago, my entire family was killed by selfish, greedy thieves, and our lands were reduced to ashes,” he told her. “The devastation was beyond imagining. The streets, once bustling with life, were strewn with the bodies of those I once loved. Though the village I’d roamed was silent, I could still hear sobbing of ghosts, of my mother and my father, my brothers and sisters, and my friends. Not a day passes without the haunting thought: if only I had known sorcery then. . .” The king shuddered as the faces of his lost kin grew clear in his memories. He looked hard into Asha’s eyes. "It is for this reason, Asha, that the very foundation of this kingdom is built upon the belief that no one should ever experience the agony of watching their dreams crumble before their eyes. I vowed to create a haven where everyone would be safe, where the horrors of my past would never befall another.”
Magnifico paused to see whether she was listening.
Asha had finally stopped rocking back and forth, and looked contemplative. When the king stopped talking, she blinked. “You’re right,” she managed. “No one should live their life feeling the pain of that loss everyday.”
The king nodded. “Yes. Exactly. And that is why I do what I do.”
Asha’s voice was serious when she replied, “And that’s why I want to work for you.”
Perhaps it was his imagination, or his own good heart deceiving him, but at that moment, Magnifico was overwhelmed, and his heart melted a little. “Come with me,” he said, and led Asha toward the tower’s back wall, where he raised an arm so the stones shifted and slid apart, and his Wish Chamber revealed itself.
“Wow,” said Asha as blue light poured over her, and the domed chamber shone upon her in all its heavenly glory.
“You’re one of the few I’ve ever invited in here.” Magnifico led her inside with sweeping strides. “But if I am to trust you, I need you to understand just how important the wishes of Rosas are.” He glanced at his guest, and was pleased to see her expression was properly impressed, her eyes wide, and her mouth shut. “You can feel them, can’t you?”
“I can,” she whispered. “They’re, uh, everything.”
“That’s exactly it. These wishes are everything.” Magnifico paused to let her take in the brilliance of them.
“I didn’t expect them to feel so alive.” Asha reached out toward the tangible essence of someone’s deepest aspiration: a woman cradling a violin in her arms inside the orb. She shivered as the woman created the beautiful music of someone who’d put in countless hours of practice, each pluck of a string evoking a yearning that transcended the material world around them.
Magnifico laughed a deep laugh at Asha’s first impression. “They fill you with so much longing, don’t they? But that one would do no good to grant. Ambition untempered by effort stifles the growth of character. Denying someone the trials and triumphs of their journey robs them of the refinement of their soul. To grow in virtue is to become something more beautiful than even the most vibrant vibrations of violin strings.”
Finish reading: Link
While I like the concept of Once-ler having a mean, selfish family that shows why he turned out the way he did, I'm going to make it clear that listening to them and destroying everything was his own choice.
EXCERPT
It was unsettling how much having his family move in made Once-ler's life feel exactly as it had before.
Somehow they still managed to make him feel like the one imposing, despite them being in his house. It wasn't long till his closets were full of their clothes and shoes, and his ice box with things like "Brett's pickles, don't touch." "Gizette's hot sauce. No Oncies allowed" or "CHET ONLY" signs on the orange juice. Yuck. Once-ler patiently pushed the orange juice aside to fit eggs and milk for his pancake batter.
Since the time he'd seen them, Gizette had taken up soccer and now kept her equipment thrown across his lawn. It appeared she'd gotten her glasses somehow, glittery pink frames that she left laying around and never wore. Brett and Chet brought parts of motorbikes they fiddled around with, that Once-ler never saw in the long grass before they tripped him. His Ma seemed to have gotten even more knickknacks, clothes, and yarn than ever for someone who always complained about having no money.
However, he didn't know if he should complain because of how much she helped with the company. In fact, she helped a little too much, staying up all night on the phone, networking, negotiating, planning ads, and scheduling meetings for him to attend. She seemed to have become an expert manager overnight.
"Didn't you know I got a degree in business when I was in my early twenties?" she told him. "I used to help yer dad back when he was first startin' his wood cuttin’ business." Once-ler had not. She had never mentioned having any helpful skills up till this point.
Some of her ideas were better than others. Once-ler did appreciate the plans to expand the market, like with the promotions she took charge of. He liked the new top hat she picked out for him, to make him look like a proper CEO. And thanks to her fundraising efforts, the blueprints for his factory were becoming a brick and mortar reality atop the nearest hill beyond his window.
However, when it came to her suggestion about chopping down the trees to gather the leaves faster for their expanding customer base, Once-ler was annoyed.
"No. Truffula Trees take a hundred years to grow back, so that's not a good business strategy. Why don't we just use ladders?"
“Well, that’s pretty demanding of you,” said his Ma. “You make us move out here to help you, and won’t even provide the proper accommodations. Brett fell off one of those dangerous old ladders the other day, and got a big purple bruise on his nose. It’s not funny, don’t laugh. You gotta learn about bein’ a decent boss.”
Once-ler’s Ma’s opinion of a good boss seemed to be one that gave her whatever she wanted. Well, why did he have to give his family whatever they wanted all the time? His stubbornness was, indeed, the last thing still keeping him from getting out his ax and being done with it. The ladders and picker really were a pain. It would be easier to just yell “Timber!” and harvest a whole head of leaves from a fallen trunk, but he didn't want to give his family the satisfaction.
Oh, and there was his promise to the Lorax too.
Hey, I was thinking that for our next rewrite, maybe we could do the Cursed Child... I remember being really disappointed when it came out, and the plot about the time turner and Cedric making no sense! And also wishing it was a regular novel instead of a play, and that it didn't turn all the characters into characters that didn't act like themselves...
Would this be something anyone would be interested in??
Without focusing on Ted, the story can start earlier and show more of Once-ler's background trying to sell his Thneed. What bad influences did he have when it came to running a business? Some of the advice in this chapter are real things I've been told...
Excerpt below:
He pulled the Thneed from his neck, and spread it on the table. "Ah, you know what, let me just show you."
"It's brilliant," said the main representative immediately.
He was the shortest man and wore a sleek white suit. "The audacity is stunning. It's the perfect balance between essential and useless. Whimsical enough to capture the imagination, yet quaint enough to be marketed as a necessity. This is, indeed, something everyone needs. We would just have to make it out of a better material. For the most part, there's not a single thing that could be improved. However…" He looked up from his spinny chair at the long table. "There's one problem."
His colleagues in smaller chairs around him nodded their heads knowingly.
"Whaddya mean?" asked Once-ler.
The salesman pressed his fingers together and leaned forward. "To sell a product, you need to have a certain degree of charisma," he explained. "The creator's image is even more important than the thing itself when it comes to commerce. That is, you can't just come into a company in your dirty lumberjack clothes, dragging a mule, singing out of tune, and expect to be a success."
Once-ler turned red. There were no barns in North Nitch, so he'd been taking Melvin everywhere with him on a leash. The buildings were so big it hadn't occurred to him there was anything wrong with it. Plus Melvin was such a well-behaved mule, or maybe it was just that he hadn't had any human friends in so long, Once-ler had unconsciously started to think of him as a person.
He also resented his spiffy new outfit being called dirty lumberjack clothes. The fashion of his old town must've looked that way to outsiders no matter how new or clean they were. He observed the stiff, sleek blazers the businessmen wore and took note.
"There seem to be two of you here right now, Mr. Ler," the salesman said, and Once-ler got the feeling he wasn't talking about the fact that he'd brought his mule.
"On one hand, I see a powerful inventor with an ingenious work ethic, capable of bringing impressive ideas to life. But you can’t let humility hold you back. My advice to you is to try and think of yourself a little more selfishly, if you know what I mean."
"No, sir… Could you expand on that?"
"I mean stop thinking of yourself as someone small from a lowly background. You have to imagine yourself as bigger than everyone else."
The salesman hopped from his chair and drew his own short body to its full height in front of the towering woodsman.
"It doesn't matter if you're the tallest person in the world, if you never think you can reach anything." The businessman threw a pointed glance at a geeky young intern with glasses and braces. "Isn't that right, Aloysius?"
"I get it, Dad." The teenager rolled his eyes.
The salesman folded up the Thneed, and handed it back to Once-ler. "You have potential, but come back when your marketing strategy has improved. Have you ever read The Virtue of Selfishness? I look forward to hearing back from you. In the meantime, have you considered applying to other job options at one of the O'Hare companies?" He handed Once-ler a pamphlet.
Once-ler walked out of the building buzzing with embarrassment. He'd butchered his delivery on his first try. Why was it so easy to sing about Thneeds at his family's farm, in the forest, or the privacy of his wagon? He hadn't expected to start shaking like a leaf the instant he started playing for other people. He needed to practice.
Full story here:
Besides the Lorax and Wish, what are some other animated movies that people think could be rewritten better? (Or would just be interesting to expand upon as a novel?) Idk how many rewrites I'll be able to do this summer, but I'm having a lot of fun learning about storytelling from this experiment!
Welcome to our fanfiction blog. We write high quality, wholesome, canon compliant (or canon objectively improved) fanfiction with as few OCs or annoying tropes as possible.
We also like to do interesting writing experiments and make quality novelizations of things. We aim to make everything like a professional book with a lot of depth, no cringe, and an actual full completed story. (Since that can be very rare).
Once-ler tries to sell his product in town and meets the Lorax. Excerpt below (read full chapter on Ao3):
It was sticking out from a stump, covered in mossy brown fur. It was the size of a cat, but with the round bean-form of an animal Once-ler had never seen. Its most significant feature was the yellow mustache on its face that was so thick Once-ler had the urge to pick the creature up and turn him upside down to sweep a floor. It positively radiated power and adorableness both at the same time. It pulled itself up and looked him in the eye.
The foot of the creature tapped expectantly.
Once-ler straightened his grey business vest and hat. "Can I help you… sir?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, if I gave you a surprise." The creature didn't sound sorry at all. "But I think you earned the shock in your eyes. You're up to mischief, best confess. Your secret plot, your sneaky mess."
"What am I doing wrong? You mean trying to make a living? Why is everyone here so against that?" Once Once-ler started ranting, he found he couldn't stop. “At least I actually have some ingenuity. Why is that a bad thing? My family was like that too. Don't we need inventions and new ideas to keep the world going? How are people supposed to support themselves, huh? Just by working for the O'Hares, and that's it?"
"You have a point, it's true, I see. Your words hold weight, are error free. But mind your manners, and do beware, lest your sharp wit makes you an O'Hare."
Once-ler flushed. "Well, maybe you should all stop assuming that every stranger who tries something new around here is exactly like an O'Hare." He tipped his hat stiffly, and turned away.
"Hey, you're alright, don't you fret. A nice, amusing chap, I won't forget. Ambition burns, inspiring, bright, but heed my words, and do what's right. Two paths I see, a heavy choice. One leads to glory, a tempting voice. The other path is a conscience clear, but it all depends which way you steer."
"Amusing, huh? Well, I think you're annoying," Once-ler grumbled, and grabbed Melvin's leash.
The creature kept up with Once-ler's long legs at a surprisingly quick pace as it stroked its mustache. "The Lorax am I, my voice is always near. I've been watching this place, year after year. The trees and beasts, they're my sacred domain. The forest's my charge, and I'll watch over it again." It darted in front of him and stuck out its spindly hand.
Once-ler stared at the long curling fingers before hesitantly giving them a shake. "Once-ler."
"Once-ler, that's a name so odd. What could it mean, I'd love to prod. Is it a title, a moniker grand? Or a label that I can understand?"
"It means I never make a mistake more than once," said Once-ler. "Because my Ma said she wishes she hadn't.”
"And what was the woman's misstep I wonder, that gave her son such a name to ponder?"
(Full novelization on Ao3. We're going to make a bunch of high quality rewrites of movies that had too many plot holes).
I can't wait to finish posting the Lorax Rewrite so we can start posting the Wish Rewrite. It's really close to being finished!
Preview:
It’s rare that a fantasy comes true just as you’re fantasizing about it, but that’s just what happened when Once-ler’s wagon rolled over the next hill. Not only did the scene happen to be extraordinary, but it came at such a coincidental time of desperate wishfulness that Once-ler was ripped straight from his daydreams and his eyes filled with tears immediately.
PEACE! FREEDOM! INSPIRATION! it screamed all at once.
Such a heavy feeling of serenity and joy descended upon his soul that he knew immediately he was where he was meant to be. It took less than a second to decide this was home, and he would never change his mind for the rest of his days. A smile spread across his face, the kind that was so big it hurt.
The valley he overlooked was a forest, but not like the forest at home. He’d never dreamed a forest could be so different. Where the one behind his farm was small, dry, and gray, the one below stretched beyond the horizon, filled with the brightest green grass and dark blue water full of lily pads, duckweed, and cattails.
Wispy trees and bushes bloomed with pink, yellow, and orange silken foliage that filled his nose with sugary sweetness. Instead of being empty and boring, as if animals would rather be anywhere less desolate, it buzzed with bees, butterflies, frogs, and fish he could see even from his vantage atop the highest hill. A sense of adventure and endless discovery pierced his heart as Once-ler's wagon rolled deeper down into Heaven.
So this was how forests were supposed to be. Every choice he’d made up to that point had been right after all, if it had led him to this. When the wagon reached the bottom of the hill, the yodels died on his lips, and he threw his guitar in the back. “Come on, Melvin,” he said, leading the mule along. The forest only became more interesting from there.
Ho-li-ah Ho-le-rah-hi-hi-ah Ho-le-rah-cuckoo Fol-de-rol, laddie right Toor-a-lie-addy
“Wait, who’s singing? Oh, wow!” Once-ler stood in awe as he watched a trio of fat yellow and orange fish dancing atop a rock, using their fins as legs. They held hands, spinning with their eyes closed, occasionally kicking out their fins or breaking away to do an Irish jig.
“Bizarre,” he said, checking over his shoulder just in case it was some kind of trick. “Does anyone else even know this exists?”
A yellow butterfly soared past with wings the size of book pages. The dark spots on its wings looked like a cow's. It landed on a flower where a frog strolled by on its hind legs and started milking it into an acorn cap.
"Oh my goodness!" Once-ler hopped up and down. "I think I just stumbled upon a completely undiscovered habitat!" After his life at home, he'd begun to think there was no such thing as anything new or exciting.
"Magnificent," he said, tears filling his eyes as a swarm of orange swans flew over his head under sun-tinted clouds. They soared, then dipped, taking a dive alongside a waterfall that roared ominously.
~*~
Follow me for the rest of the rewrite! (I'm going to post new chapters every week).
I can't wait to get to the part about the Lorax. I'm going to write him so much differently than the movie that made him a useless smart aleck. I always thought he should be more mysterious and fae-like. Gonna try to make it like something Tolkien or Holly Black would write. This story is really fun to write!
No chapter of the Lorax Rewrite this week because I want to do some extra editing. (Unless I get it done more quickly than I think). This is gonna be the chapter that's least related to the movie's original plot, but should add some extra character development and twists in the end.
Just two writers who like to rewrite stories either to make them better or for an experiment.
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