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Coming Home to Khart Haddas
FINAL DRAFT
I'll be home tomorrow.
The only light is the dim illumination of distant, indifferent stars and a set of candles found randomly around this packed cabin. We had to travel by night, to remove the Romans' archery advantage, trusting the nautical skill of captured people.
As you probably know by now, we've met with overwhelming success in Italy, despite the lack of support from the homeland. The local city-states haven't exactly formed the anti-Roman coalition I envisioned, but the men with me are so skilled and we know each other so well, I barely even have to issue commands anymore. They know what I would want, and act accordingly. I've asked them to try and mentor and work with the troops when we get home, but I remember how hard it was for new troops to take to advance tactical maneuvering whenever I worked with soldiers from other generals.
Honestly, I'd rather not talk about war. For a change, at least. It was nice to hear from you in your last missive. I'm sorry I haven't made time to write more regularly. In your last letter, it sounded like things were sorely lacking the presence of a Barca in the senate chambers. I also understand why your tone seemed so ... well, I just want you to know how sorry I am. You think I chose father over you, and that's just not true. It might not seem like it, but your examples and instruction have helped me be a better leader to these men.
Because I remember how you nursed me back to health when I was eleven, I know how to comfort a wounded man. Because I felt the warmth of your smiles every day of my youth, I know how to lift the spirits of the broken and the damned. While I know it seems that the knotty-headed, slew-footed teenager waved goodbye that I was rejecting you, but ... mother, I just ... I didn't know another way to prove myself. Father was a legend among our people. I don't have to tell you that he singlehandedly made Khart Haddas' fortunes, as he was only able to accomplish these things with you at his side.
Father's success has been a burden for me to bear as well. Do you know how hard my tactics instructors were on me? "Hamilcar's boy" is all I heard. Everywhere I went, people looked at me, their eyes demanding I forge a legacy of my own. Leaving with father was a way to get out from under the shadow of those expectations. My wife, as wonderful as she is, could never be a fifth of the woman you are, the goddess you are. I didn't know how to tell you, I didn't have the words to say ... and I couldn't see a way to make my name, hanging on to the hem of your robes.
I say all that to say this: I want to apologize for not being a more attentive son. Apologize for being so much like father. War with Rome robbed you of a marriage, kept your husband from your bed, and then took your son as well. Of all the things I learned, I ended up making the same mistakes with my family. I'm sorry, mother. I tried to do the best I could, but it still came out wrong ...
This letter will get to you before I do, and I vow to you that you can hug me as long as it takes to get back the years I was gone.
I've got to inspect the armaments before we get to mid-sea, in case we run into any trouble, out here in the dark. We'll talk more when I see you. I love you, mother.
Your son,
-H
FIRST DRAFT
I'll be home tomorrow.
The only light is the dim illumination of distant, indifferent stars and a set of candles found randomly around this packed cabin. We had to travel by night, to remove the Romans' advantage of archery, and trust the sailing skill of captured people.
As you probably know by now, we've met with overwhelming success in Italy, despite the lack of support from the homeland. The local city-states haven't exactly formed the anti-Roman coalition I envisioned, but the men with me are so skilled and we know each other so well, I barely even have to issue commands anymore. They know what I would want, and act accordingly. I've asked them to try and mentor and work with the troops when we get home, but I remember how hard it was for new troops to take to advance tactical maneuvering whenever I worked with other generals' troops.
Honestly, I'd rather not talk about war. For a change, at least. It was nice to hear from you in your last missive. In your last letter, it sounded like things were sorely lacking the presence of a Barca in the senate chambers. I also understand why your tone seemed so ... well, I just want you to know how sorry I am. You think I chose father over you, and it's just not true. It might not seem like it, but your examples and instruction have helped me be a better leader to these men.
Because I remember how you nursed me back to health when I was eleven, I know how to comfort a wounded man because I felt the warmth of your smiles every day of my youth, I know how to lift the spirits of the broken and the damned. While I know it seems that the knotty-headed, slew-footed teenager waved goodbye that I was rejecting you, but ... mother, I just ... I didn't know another way to prove myself. Father was a legend among our people. I don't have to tell you that he singlehandedly made Khart Haddas' fortunes.
Father's success has been a burden for me to bear as well. Do you know how hard my tactics instructors were on me? "Hamilcar's boy" is all I heard. Everywhere I went, people looked at me, their eyes demanding I forge a legacy of my own. Leaving with father was a way to get out from under the shadow of those expectations. I didn't know how to tell you, I didn't have the words to say ... and hanging on to the hem of your robes wouldn't do anything to make my name.
So I want to apologize for not being a more attentive son. For being so much like father. War with Rome kept your husband away from home, and then took your son as well.
This letter will get to you before I do, and I vow to you that you can hug me as long as it takes to get back the years I was gone. I'm sorry I haven't written more.
I've got to inspect the armaments before we get to mid-sea, in case we run into any trouble, out here in the dark. We'll talk more when I see you. I love you, mother. Your son,
-H
COMMENTARY FROM EDITOR RUMOND TAYLOR
On the front end, it's ridiculously hard for me to critique you, seeing as you're the Master Jedi, and also because our writing styles are so different. That being said, I did make a few small changes in the story.
I removed the sentence in the fourth paragraph and attached it to the end of the next to last, because I felt it gave it more resonance.
I added a sentence to the beginning of the 6th paragraph to try to convey the difficulty he had being Hamilcar's son.
Switched a sentence around and added a phrase in the 5th paragraph just because it seemed to flow a little better.
And that's it. As I said, I felt odd making any changes at all, but that's what I got.
RESPONSE FROM WRITER HANNIBAL TABU
Thank you for the look. I do have to pause to reiterate one crucial point: no one is above critique. Not me, not the President, not anybody. The second somebody believes they are above critique is the moment they believe their work is perfect, and nobody can say that. _Nobody_. The differences in our writing styles, in part, are _why_ having your input is so valuable.
I like the edits you made. They're superbly specific and work towards what I call "line item changes," where you get into the actual DNA of a piece of work and hack at it until it works better. Which is fantastic.
What I _didn't_ get was your sense of the work as a whole. Did you feel Hannibal Barca's trepidation and exhaustion? I was trying to convey a number of things, with his mother issues as the central one (and one he's not as comfortable discussing) but I'm interested to see if the others communicated. If you, somebody who's so outside of my normal stylings, can get what I'm trying to convey, then I've hit my mark.
Awaiting your comments on "big picture," "thousand-yard-view" concepts for my rewrite. Thank you again.
COMMENTARY FROM EDITOR RUMOND TAYLOR
I definitely felt his awkwardness in discussing these issues with his mother. It felt as though he was saying things in print he never would have felt comfortable saying in person. I thought the reference to his father painted a portrait of a boy trying to fill his fathers shoes.
Is that what you were trying to convey?
RESPONSE FROM WRITER HANNIBAL TABU
That's it, yes.
I did also want to avoid saying he's been kicking Roman ass for eighteen years, and just show how tired he is of it all. He'd been left without support, and won regardless. Did it seem like he was tired of it all?
You got the emotional content, but maybe not the plot?
COMMENTARY FROM EDITOR RUMOND TAYLOR
I don't know the backstory, but when I read it, the emotional content is what I honed in on.
RESPONSE FROM WRITER HANNIBAL TABU
Well, that sounds effective enough. I'll see about another swipe at it ... Thanks, hope yours is going well.
What the heck is this assignment again?
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