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I put this in a fanfiction note, but for fun, I like to post reading lists of books I read that inspired or were referenced in my stories. So here are all the ones that I had in mind when I wrote this one:
Great Expectations (general themes) The Christmas Carol (general themes) The Hunger Games (descriptions of excessive lifestyles) The Virtue of Selfishness (Once-ler's philosophies) Walden (Once-ler's philosophies) The Sneetches (McBean cameo) Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (some descriptions) Spiderwick (I wanted to portray the Lorax as a fae creature similar to Thimbletack) Tolkien (I was inspired by his poems for the lyrics of the Humming Fish songs and his beliefs about valuing cheer over gold)
Harry Potter (too many literary devices to count, including the type of plot twist I wanted to add with the fire, a Tom Riddle style anagram, certain types of scenes and descriptions, my third person limited POV preference, among many more little things)
Bonus: the beginning was a response to the cliche beginning of a Court of Thorns and Roses, because it made the youngest child have to support her family, when it's always the oldest in the real life. (That hit a nerve).
What books inspire your stories?
THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE WHO READ THIS, LEFT KUDOS, COMMENTS, BOOKMARKS, ETC!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THE GREAT LORAX REWRITE IS FINALLY COMPLETE!
Excerpt:
He spent his days staring at the tally marks he'd scratched into the walls. They sprawled unevenly, some deep gouges, others mere scratches. He counted them again and again, fingers tracing the jagged lines, as he mumbled under his breath. "One... two... three... four..." His voice faltered and he started over. "One… two… thr—no, wait." He could only pray his count remained slightly accurate as the years went by.
Once he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of green in the broken shard of metal that hung from the wall. He whipped his head around, only to see his own reflection glaring back at him. But it wasn’t him—it was that other him. The green, twisted version, eyes hollow and black like two bottomless pits.
"What do you want?" he whispered. "Why won’t you just leave me alone?" The reflection only smiled, a slow, creeping grin before crawling slowly away.
At night, the walls breathed. That’s what it sounded like to Once-ler—a long, wheezing inhale, a brittle exhale. The wind rushed through the gaps with ghostly arms that reached for him. He woke up, shivering, convinced he heard humming-fish singing just outside.
"Hush! Quiet, they’re back!" he whispered to himself. Pressing his ear to the walls, the cold metal bit into his skin. All he heard was the wind. He slumped back down, knees pulled to his chest. "They were here," he murmured, rocking back and forth. "I know they were here…"
Desperate for routine, every morning, Once-ler reached for the rope he’d rigged to a bucket. It wasn’t for food or water—those needs had faded—he pulled it up just to see if the world had sent him something, anything. Most days, it came up empty, swinging in the breeze like a useless pendulum. Once or twice, he found a few broken pieces of old advertisements. He kept them, not because they were useful, but because they were better than nothing.
The gloves fused to his hands were another enemy he could never beat. They itched and burned, the skin underneath painful and raw. He scratched at the seams until his fingers bled, trying to tear them off. However, the fabric wouldn’t budge. "Get it off, get it off!" he screamed. He tore at his flesh until exhaustion took him.
The days twisted and knotted together into an indecipherable net, ensnaring him. Once-ler sat in his corner, and all he could think was, "Willingly. I chose all of it willingly."
He wondered if the Lerkim would be his tomb. Or if, by some cruel twist of fate, he’d live forever within its rusted walls, alone with the ghosts of choices that could never be unmade.
The only other thing left to do was the thing he did most of all: Contemplate the meaning of the stones. "Unless." Unless what? he wondered.
Unless he changed his ways?
Unless he somehow escaped?
Unless he said he was sorry?
Unless the humming-fish had been trying to warn him?
Unless the Truffula trees were still out there, watching?
Unless the wind has been whispering the answer all along?
Unless his reflection knew the truth and he didn’t?
Unless the rain spoke a language he couldn't hear?
Unless the Lorax never left and was invisible?
Unless everything that was happening was a dream?
"Unless," Once-ler whispered again, as his brain overheated with puzzlement. "Unless... I was never meant to understand."
(Read the rest on ao3).
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I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS DONE! For over I a decade I would see people complain about this movie and how it could be better. I would see posts about how people were going to rewrite it, but they never really did beyond summaries. Now I've finally finished this, so my life is complete. This is the longest fanfiction that I took the most seriously finishing. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. that I didn't know if it would get.
Me and my coauthor on this account are hoping to create more rewrites after this. Currently, we're almost done with the first draft of a rewrite of Disney's Wish. We're aiming to start releasing it around Christmas, depending on how things go.
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS STORY! Please let me know if you have any feedback about how you liked this rewrite. We'll take it into account for how we handle rewrites in the future.
Please leave a comment if you can and let me know how you feel about this rewrite now that it's about to end. It's one of the first fanfictions I worked really hard on finishing, so I'd really appreciate knowing what people think! Thank you so much if you've made it this far. I'm so happy I finally finished it (and am posting the last chapter next week), because for longest time I'd see people say they were going to rewrite this movie and never doing it. But now it exists! And it fixes and includes all the main things people always talked about for over a decade. I hope I've done some service to the world by getting it out.
GUYS, THERE'S ONLY ONE CHAPTER AFTER THIS! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S COME SO FAR!
Excerpt (here I attempted to insert more logic into why the seed was never planted earlier and the Lorax didn't help or create more):
A thunderous crack interrupted his thoughts. It was louder than bulldozers, like when the factory had collapsed, but more formidable and extraordinary, a sound Once-ler could never forget, that he heard every night in his dreams.
He peeked between the boards, and, sure enough, the sky had the telltale purple hue and spiraling clouds that signaled the Lorax coming back to earth.
Brown mossy paws landed weightlessly upon the UNLESS stones, and a yellow mustache under glittering black eyes turned up to look at Once-ler.
“HELLO IN THERE!” the Lorax hollered. “Still taking care? Haven't said goodbye? You’ve yet to die?"
Once-ler didn't know what to say at first, but after spluttering for a few moments, settled on: "Well, FINALLY! Where were you this whole time? Let me out so we can plant more trees already! We need to get a head start straightening out this mess, it's gonna take a loooong time to fix!"
The Lorax held up his hands. "Calm down, I can only create one seed every hundred years. And they can only be planted under certain circumstances, I fear. Seeds (and trees, for that matter) ain't cheap consumerist stuff. Unlike Thneeds, creating living things at will is tough."
He walked up to the Lerkim, and did something Once-ler couldn't see to the lock. Perhaps he had created a cheap consumerist key, but, in any case, a clink told him the chain had finally fallen away.
Once-ler slammed his full weight against the door and tumbled out.
"Sorry it took so long, but do you know what went wrong?" said the Lorax, waiting for him to straighten himself as much as he could—Once-ler's crooked spine had been bent too many times to ever go back to normal. "I can only stay in the valley as long as the animals or trees that I protect are in it. Right now a swomee-swan is passing through for a minute."
"Right, well, anyway, we need to plant this!" Once-ler held up the seed he'd protected in the Lerkim for ten years.
The Lorax sighed. "The time still isn't right, that’s why I put up such a fight," he said. "My point, if you’d heard my pleas—is that Truffula Trees don’t sprout with ease. The good news is," he said to Once-ler's dejected expression, "that if you get one to grow, then soon you’ll see—a bloom of others follows naturally; it's like one's the mother, that hundreds of babies spring around. Plus they can clean up the air, the water, and ground—planting Truffula Trees is the first step to restore and bring this place back to how it was before."
"Okay. So… When can we plant it?"
"We?" asked the Lorax. "There’s nothing I can do. I can't stay here, so it's up to you. And you're gonna be too old to plant it yourself in forty-eight years. When the time comes, you’re gonna need help out here. You're gonna need to give the seed to someone else. Explain what to do and pray that they’ll help. Tell them the story and the instructions I’ll leave on the stones… I have to go, I feel something slipping away in my bones. The swomee-swan is trying to get out of here fast. Goodbye, if you don’t succeed, these words might be our last."
"Wait—"
But the Lorax was positioned on the UNLESS stones, his hand pinching his fur. "Your job now is to spread the word about the seed. Until you find someone willing to do the deed. It's time to live up to your name and not keep making the same mistake. Actions have consequences, so stay awake. At a certain point you can't take your choices back. Only encourage others to stay on a better track. Just remember," he said, "Unless someone cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."
Super late post today, but here it is! THIS PART IS THE MOST SAD. The movie didn't make enough consequences for his actions.
Excerpt:
"How've you been, sir? Are you doing well, Mr. Once-ler?" a forlorn voice asked.
Once-ler spun around. "You?!”
The Lorax didn't say anything for a while. The sound of rain over the balcony grew heavier as the storm rumbled behind him.
"Just came to look at the view. You've accomplished a lot, haven’t you?"
Once-ler backed away at the sound of thunder as the Lorax entered the office. The mossy old creature hopped onto his desk to stare at the model city. His torso was matted and streaked with grease. Wiry hairs stuck out from his mustache and eyebrows like bent broom bristles. The fur that had once had an attractive orange sheen was all brown now, caked with dirt, and had a damp, washed-out look. The Lorax might have been a chewed up jelly bean that had been spat back out.
"The Virtue of Selfishness," the Lorax read the title of one of Once-ler's books, stroking his mustache. "Lessons we could all learn from, I'd guess."
"You know what? I don't want to hear from you right now!" Once-ler yelled. "All you do is say everything is bad, and I'm really sick of it." He seized the Lorax and hoisted him under his arm, ignoring the creature's protests.
"It's not just the trees I'm trying to save,” the Lorax’s voice cracked, “but you, from digging your own grave."
Once again, the door wouldn't open when Once-ler tried it, and the alarm wouldn't go off when he pulled it. But he wasn’t going to be defeated. He carried the Lorax to the balcony and held him at arm's length. The Lorax hovered over dark hills that had been uniformly sheared—bristly white stumps where once had been trees dotted the shaved hills of dead grass. Advanced axe-hackers rolled by like monsters, searching for more wood that they couldn't find, before wheeling away to look deeper into the mist.
"Are you going to kill me?" asked the Lorax.
"I know you're causing the storms," growled Once-ler, shaking him. "The thunder that never stops, the lightning that strikes my tower. And all the clouds that have that same purple hue as when…" He trailed off, remembering the first tree he'd cut down, when he'd first seen the Lorax come out of the sky.
If it wasn't for that day, he'd have believed the Lorax was no more than a funny animal like the Barbaloots or humming-fish, with a higher cognitive level and more annoying voice box. But it had been the sight of him that day, coming out of the sky with a terrible look in his eyes, that, as much as he tried to forget, made Once-ler secretly terrified he really was a deity.
His hands trembled as the Lorax's beetle black eyes bored into his, suddenly looking very old and very powerful. Once-ler wondered if it was even possible for the Lorax to die. “Whatever you're doing, I want you to stop it. Right now," he growled, not recognizing his own voice. With each word, he leaned closer over the edge of the balcony.
"Why?" asked the Lorax. "You don’t seem to care how your own actions are fouling the air."
"Yer rusting up my factory. We got work to do. I’m the one in the legal right here. So make it stop." His face was close enough to feel the Lorax’s mustache.
The Lorax chuckled at this, legs dangling over the parapet. "Laws and codes, written by man. What have they to do with nature's plan? What have they to do with morals or your soul? Are laws the things that define all your goals?" His long, spindly hand slowly reached out and grabbed his tie.
Before Once-ler knew it, they were both falling. Through wind and rain they plummeted as the storm thickened. Soon a churning mist concealed everything around them as they tumbled through a funnel of purple clouds, a passage that went on much longer than Once-ler knew it should have.
As they spun round and round, reality evaporated. It was as if Once-ler was melting into the Lorax and the Lorax was melting into him, until nothing but a haze of orange and green remained. Then they unconnected, plunging their separate ways.
Once-ler's spine cracked against a pipe, and he bounced onto the black, dry riverbed where water no longer ran. His head spun; reality had not gone quite back to normal. Somehow they had survived the fall as if it had been merely from a playground, rather than half a mile from the tallest building in the city. His back, however, would never be quite the same. Sharp pains when he attempted to straighten himself told him it had been fractured.
The Lorax was standing on a rock, eyes aglow, fixed on his enemy. An army was growing around him of bloodied, skeletal birds missing patches of feathers, a few crinkled fish that had been too weak to leave, and the ghostly Barbaloots that hadn't died yet.
Once-ler choked, and limped behind a rock. "I don't want any trouble," he pleaded.
The Lorax gave a slight nod to the army behind him, and they marched somberly back into the gray expanse. As they trailed away, single file, Once-ler knew in his heart they were marching to their deaths. At the end of the line he spotted an animal he hadn't thought of in a long time. His old friend, Melvin.
"Hey…!" He crawled up to the trembling old animal that fell to the ground. Melvin put his head in Once-ler's lap. His coat was thin and sooty, breaths slow and tired. The eyes that met his master's were filled with sadness that slowly dimmed into an empty stare as his head slumped to the ground.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3~!
The millionth Thneed party was another beat that would've been interesting to focus on if the movie didn't waste time on Ted. I can't believe there are only a few more chapters left to post now!
Excerpt:
There was another orange flash. Now he was sure he'd seen it. The Lorax was throwing a fit. "Close the drapes on all the windows." He stopped a servant. "It's taking away from the show on the ceiling."
While he'd been lost in thought, Once-ler's Ma was busy orchestrating the next highlight of the evening. She had insisted on this, claiming it would add a touch of whimsy to the grand event.
"Laaaaaadies aaaaaand geeeeeentlemen!" her loud voice boomed through a microphone, cutting through the chatter as the music fizzled out. "May I have your attention, please!"
Faces turned towards the menagerie that she stood in front of, wearing a pink, fluffy gown and beaming with pride. Behind her, in a large glass tank, were more humming-fish. Their scales gave way to multicolored sheens under the bright lights, but they were clustered towards the back of the tank, their large eyes darting around the room.
"We have a special treat for you tonight," she went on. "Tonight these little beauties--straight from the heart of the forest--are going to serenade us with a grand song!"
Polite applause rippled through the audience, though many guests still appeared more interested in their conversations and cocktails. Once-ler's Ma signaled to a technician, who turned a dial on the sound system. Soft, enchanting music began to play, and the humming-fishes' voices were, one by one, slowly drawn into the tune with quavering but rich intonations.
Air fol-la-lull derry dum toor-a-lie-ay
Rrye-dum diddledum darruhdum
Troll, fol-de- roll, troll, fol-de- roll
The haunting sound filled the room, with echoes that could only be described as capturing the very essence of the valley. In less than ten seconds, the previously bored faces had all turned towards the tank, conversation dying on their lips.
Oh--Oo--Oh--Oo--Oh--Oo
Oloho, oloho, oloho, oloho
Whack whack, lady lady lie
The music sounded like the wind through the trees, the ripple of water, and birdsong mixed together with something else that was ancient and indescribable.
Once-ler knew from being a musician how hard it was to get people to pay attention to even his most beautiful songs, and animals usually flat out ran away. Barn cats dived for cover, mules twitched their ears in irritation, and birds flew off--to ordinary animals, even man's most sophisticated music held no appeal. However, when the fish started their underwater opera, the world itself paused to listen with rapt attention.
All other noise stopped, including the ticking of clocks and background noise of the river. The air was respectfully still, and the stars outside the window could be seen ceasing to twinkle with baited breath just before the servant closed the curtains.
Only then did Once-ler realize, as a shiver crept down his spine and tears slid unprompted down his face, that the world had never been deaf--it simply needed to hear a performance in the right key. A key that one could only hit, apparently, if they were a particular type of fish.
"Isn't it just marvelous?" his Ma cooed into the microphone when there was a break in the rhythm, and the crowd clapped. "Aren't they just the most delightful little creatures?"
Once-ler frowned. Something about the song had changed, and the spell was breaking. The fishes' voices were wavering as their eyes dilated at the thunderous applause. He could see they were in distress, but his Ma was oblivious, giving the aquarium a little shake to jolt them back into song. She turned to the crowd again, encouraging them to applaud louder.
The guests whistled and shouted for more. The humming-fish were gasping now, turning a grayish hue. Their notes came out in rasping croaks:
Air... air... loll-dee-daa
Yay-dee, lay-dee... oh...
Ahhhh!
Once-ler stepped forward, but his Ma shot him a sharp look.
Before he could do anything else, the lights flickered, and the temperature dropped with an icy blast. The guests glanced around, crying out as some of them dropped their drinks. The music from the speakers warbled and then cut out entirely, leaving silence in its wake.
After a moment of stunned confusion, a glaring orange glow filled the ballroom. The humming-fish stopped any painful attempt to sing, raising their eyes to the spector. The silhouette of the Truffula Valley's guardian materialized in the center of the room, shimmering with bright light.
Once-ler's Ma dropped the microphone, and bumped into the tank as she jerked back. The crowd gasped and looked around, unsure of what was happening.
The guardian's saw-dusty voice rang out, mightier than the rush of the river. "You've gone too far, Once-ler, it's clear. Now greed is going to bring you to tears. You've shown no regard for the lives you’ve disrupted. You've taken nature's beauty for something corrupted. You've taken the wonder for your own gain. Now you will suffer consequences and pain!"
The ghostly Lorax's eyes locked onto Once-ler’s as he stood paralyzed with guilt and fear. "Greed has brought you to this moment. It's time to face your mistake and own it."
As the orange phantom raised its hands, the glass tank holding the humming-fish shattered, and water poured out and soaking the ballroom floor. The grand fountain began to tremble and crack, and the ornate structure burst apart, sending a torrent of water to flood the room.
Guests screamed and scrambled to escape the rising water. Norma's curly hair was drenched and straightened. Mcbean dived under a table, only to be washed out again with his cigar put out. Once-ler stumbled, trying to regain his footing as the water surged around him, suddenly waist high. The Lorax's voice boomed above the chaos with a final damnation: "Your greed will drown you in the end! As the river should have before this happened!"
With that, the ghostly spirit vanished, leaving the ballroom in disarray. There was a loud CRACK and Once-ler fell backwards into the water.
Once-ler turns evil. Gets dark at the end. Read the whole thing on Ao3. Excerpt:
It was nice when he could get a second guitar without even thinking about it. Perhaps even nicer than it would have been to someone who didn't have heartbreaking memories of always being told his parents couldn't afford a good one for him. After all, hadn't it been just the other day he'd asked for one on his eighth birthday in front of the music store window and gotten tears in his eyes when his dad told him no?
He didn't have any memories of clothes-shopping as a child either. All he'd gotten was hand-me-downs for short people from his church's charity drives. Surely other people had always gotten measured at tailors to get jackets and trousers of the highest quality to fit them perfectly. This, of course, justified the exorbitant bill when he bought a new designer wardrobe complete with extra tall top hats in his favorite black and bright green colors.
It turned out, the world was full of things he'd never been able to appreciate before he'd had money:
Clothes, drinks, cars, trips, events. There were so many more opportunities when you weren't just a poor helpless urchin…
He would never go back to being poor. Never. He was even worse than his Ma, after a short time.
"Oncie, don't ya think maybe we could take a day off to have a family picnic and celebrate the end of summer like in the old days?" she said to him one day.
Once-ler looked up from the photos he was studying for a new billboard advertisement. He'd almost settled on what he thought was a charismatic picture of himself with his arms spread wide and an eye-popping grin on his face, though Brett had remarked it made him look rather possessed.
"Ha!" He slammed down the photos. "You mean the old days when we were poor and miserable? Why don't we take the whole week off and have a real party? Or better yet, a month-long tropical vacation?"
His Ma blinked. "Sounds real nice, honey, but who's gonna run the company? Didn't you just get back from a cruise? Ain't ya gettin' just a little too extravagant these days?"
"Who cares? I'm rich! We got a million employees now. Besides I deserve it cuz of all the sufferin' I went through before."
This excuse got less impressive by the day as Once-ler's new luxuries quickly outweighed any misery he'd previously endured. His identity as a lower class citizen faded even more quickly from his own memory and personality than it did into the past.
"I'm so glad that in the last year I was finally able to discover the real me," was something he'd told everyone in his family more than once since they'd returned. It never occurred to him that what he meant was: "I'm so glad I finally have money to do whatever I want without any consequences."
***
2nd excerpt:
"I just wanted to tell you, the Barbaloots are dying."
Something got through the iron-clad self absorption that had enclosed Once-ler for the last few months. He was surrounded by terrible people all the time now, but when harm fell upon innocent creatures, it was different. He remembered the little Barbaloot that had given him a hug after the fiasco in the river.
"What do you mean dying? How can they be… Surely they're not actually dying ?"
"There was something in the water that made 'em sick. Something from your factory that set in quick. It's making 'em not move and lay around. And some of 'em…" There were tears in the Lorax's eyes. "Some of 'em ain't gettin' up from the ground."
READ THE FULL THING ON AO3!!!
I just realized I'm two thirds done posting the whole Lorax Rewrite. What do you guys think of it so far?
There are still a few twists to come. This has been super fun to work on all summer.
IF YOU HAVEN'T STARTED READING NOW, IT'S JUST GETTING TO THE FUN PART!
Excerpt:
As the meetings became more frequent, the character he had invented started to take on a life of its own. It was no longer just a way to get through the day. He would slip into his green suit, the color of money, and with it, would transform into someone else entirely. His voice would change—louder, more charismatic, filled with a confidence that didn’t quite belong to him. His handshake would be firmer, his smile broader, his laugh just a bit too loud.
Brett, Chet, and Gizette, who had seen the transformation firsthand, started calling him “Greed-ler” behind his back. They found the whole thing hilarious, completely different from the brother they knew. Gizette doodled pictures of Greed-ler on scraps of paper, turning him into a cartoon character with exaggerated features and dollar signs in each eye.
It wasn’t long before Greed-ler became more than just a private joke. The image of the green-suited CEO with a maniacal grin spread throughout the company, and soon, it wasn’t just his siblings drawing cartoons of him. Employees began to share these drawings, and Greed-ler started popping up in more official places—on company newsletters, posters, even merchandise. What began as a role to get through the day turned into the official mascot of Thneeds Inc.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3!
This chapter is a little longer because I want to take my time showing how Once-ler's personality devolves. I've also never seen any writing about what an average day at the company would be like. As I go through the whole movie, I want to thoroughly explore every last thing like this for once. There really is more than a novel's worth of potential in this story, if it's given its due.
Also, instead of always making Once-ler doubtful about his family's selfishness, I wanted it to be clear he was joining in with them and being an equally terrible or worse person. This is key to making the story work and have a more powerful lesson.
The way Tumblr treats the Once-ler reminds me of a Barbie. Just a plain, basic character that everyone has a personal spin on and plops into their own elaborate story and universe. I feel like I could write a whole paper about how fascinating it is. There's just something about that Lorax movie that really gives you the urge to improve upon it, I guess.
I added a fire because I thought more things needed to happen to Once-ler to show why he doesn't care about anyone else's opinions anymore. I thought this story beat would add more character development (and every story is better with an extra mystery).
Excerpt:
Once-ler looked up from his drawing board as the air grew suddenly thicker. The proud smile he’d had on his face as he drew modifications for his products faded when a dark feeling descended upon him. The sky was dim and gray, but it didn’t feel like rain. It was a dry, ominous darkness, and there was an eerie silence. It was a deep, all-consuming quietness in which even the wind had stopped.
A flock of swomee-swans burst over the horizon, hooting and speeding south as if death was on their tails.
In his pajamas, Once-ler ran out of his house. Black clouds were forming all around. Not rain clouds, which he was more than familiar with, but something even more sinister and hot.
"No…" He cast around helplessly as the sky around the construction site of his new assembly line glowed orange. "No, no, no, no, no, NO!"
The Lorax and his band of Barbaloots and humming-fish appeared quickly beside him. "We have to flee!" he cried. "Where's your family?"
"I… I told them to leave."
"Did they go? Yes or no?"
"I dunno!"
"I gotta get all the animals out. I'll get Melvin too, if you need me, shout!" The Lorax and his own strange assorted family of creatures dashed away, leaving Once-ler on his own.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3!!!!
Also I shall be away next week, that's why I'm posting this early.
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.
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.
Summary:
Once-ler's dreams finally start to come true and his family joins him in the valley. Something bad happens at the end.
EXCERPT:
A short response to his letter came to the post office later that week. It read:
Dear Oncie,
It’s so wonderful to hear from you. We’ve all been doing just fine. Gizette just got an eye exam and discovered she needs glasses, but we don’t have enough money. Would it be possible for you to loan us a few hundred since we’re behind on bills? I’ll probably be able to pay it back this fall or the next. I don't think we can come to visit, the journey is too far. Thanks, love you.
-Ma.
All at once, he remembered why his family was so hard to miss.
Once-ler felt a familiar guilt that rose in his stomach whenever his family asked for help. He could hear his dad’s voice echoing in his ears, saying “We could really use the help, Once-ler, otherwise I’ll have to spend my whole night in the forest again.”
He could hear the insults of his siblings, calling him a failure who didn’t work hard enough. After all, it shouldn’t be difficult for someone who was actually successful to do small favors for their struggling family here and there. "You should have yer life figured out by now. Stop being a loser!"
Once-ler went to his bed to get out the money he hid with his old books under his mattress, and counted out three hundreds. Wait. That was all he had left? He’d been in this valley without selling anything for longer than he’d planned. He paused, running a hand through his hair, and stared at the cover of his battered copy of The Virtue of Selfishness.
Slowly he put the money back between its covers, then went back to his desk. He stared at the letter with a frown. Finally he ripped it in half, and tossed it out the window.
It was high time he started being more selfish. After all, if you didn't take care of yourself first, you'd never be able to take care of anyone else. Right?
"Self care and coffee," was a slogan Aunt Grizelda had embroidered and hung above her door, and Uncle Ubb always got away with saying he had too many health problems from smoking and had to stand up for himself. Why could the rest of his family always get away with this attitude but not him?
READ THE FULL CHAPTER AND STORY ON A03!
So far 9 out of 16 chapters are posted, but there might be a few more by the time it's done.
(Comments and kudos on ao3 are really appreciated)!
We're almost halfway done posting this Rewrite and are almost done writing the first draft of the Wish Rewrite (which we'll release next). Rewriting movies is a really fun hobby!
Do you ever kinda wish something would exist, so you just decide to make it yourself?
Read here. I release new chapters every week.
EXCERPT:
He'd finally become such a joke to the townsfolk, it seemed they'd entirely forgotten he was human.
Instead of just tomatoes, the grocer volunteered wheelbarrows of spoiled produce that some teenagers mixed with glass and rocks. A particularly well aimed stone knocked out a tooth as he was belting out his favorite jingle:
"The Thneed is good, the Thneed is grea—YOW!"
Once-ler usually didn't stop for anything, but the taste of blood made him drop his guitar on his foot. This hurt even worse, so he sprang up and down. The guitar bounced onto the concrete while the crowd laughed and cheered.
Once-ler didn't get a chance to see if the instrument had broken, because, in a fit of enthusiasm, the mean little girl with red hair ensured this was the case. She smashed it on the ground with the second worst noise Once-ler had ever heard.
A tomato landed in his stunned face, but he didn't even feel it. He just watched open-mouthed as fruits and vegetables pelted him and the girl stomped on the pieces, giggling with her parents who stood back and watched.
"Alright, sweetie, that's enough, we have to get to Grandma's house," the mother finally told her. She smiled and pulled out a big bag of chocolate-coated pretzels for her daughter as they walked away.
Once-ler's last shred of optimism finally evaporated. After his father had passed away, the guitar had been the only good memory he'd had from home.
"THAT'S IT!" he roared. "I've had enough!" He stormed from the gazebo with tears in his eyes.
Only the baker looked slightly sympathetic. She twisted a strand of curly brown hair around her finger as he strode past.
"Is this really the way to treat a stranger?!" he heard her yell at the grocer.
"Oh, come on, Norma, he's just a self-centered out-of-towner." The grocer sounded slightly abashed.
Once-ler turned to see Norma stomp her foot. "I know he is, and I know that piece of junk he's selling looks like a wadded up piece of bubblegum with hairs stuck in it, but you just gotta understand! Homeless mentally ill folks need to be shown charity..."
Her words just infuriated Once-ler more. "My family was right. I quit!" He ripped the Thneed from his neck, and accidentally whipped the baker in the face as he threw it away. It knocked off her glasses, which fell to the ground and shattered. Oops.
He walked away faster. Luckily his long legs took him back to the forest before anyone could call the police.
(This specific scene was one of the main reasons I wanted to rewrite the movie).
"If you meant no harm, then why did you put my bed in a river?!"
"I didn't mean harm, my touch was light, a gentle breeze, for the softest flight. I merely meant to float you away, to a land of dreams, to another day."
"ARE YOU STUPID?!" Once-ler exploded. "I FIND THAT VERY HARD TO BELIEVE! OF COURSE THAT WAS A DANGEROUS IDEA! And you're telling me you didn't know there was a waterfall there when you're supposed to be the all-knowing Guardian of the Forest?!"
The Lorax was speechless, caught in his lies. "Remember your promise, I'll hold you to it now. In the river you swore and made a vow."
"I said that because you were threatening my life. Do you really think you've accomplished anything?"
"Hear this important plea, loud and clear," said the Lorax. 'Everyone needs the trees that are here! 'We need the wood,' the voices cry, 'To live and stay, or else we'll die.'"
Once-ler felt a speck of pity when he realized the Lorax really was that dumb. In his simple mind he’d really thought his plan to blackmail Once-ler into a promise was going to guarantee the safety of his sacred Truffula Trees. Typical fey creature.
"Okay, that's it." Once-ler finally grabbed the Lorax by the scruff of his neck. "You've manipulated and tricked me. You've tried to kill me. Let's have this out once and for all. I refuse to be bullied out of this forest. If you can actually give me a logical explanation for why I shouldn't cut down the trees, then I'll stop. How bad can this really be, huh?"
"Fine, have it your way, we'll talk, indeed," the Lorax said. "But know I'm earnest, and please take heed."
"Fine."
Once-ler dropped the Lorax onto a stump, where he stood up straight and cleared his throat. He said in a meaningful voice:
"You think you can chop down whatever you please. But everyone here needs the trees."
"That's too vague," said Once-ler at once. "You have to explain what problem it causes, so we can figure out how to solve it."
"Well," said the Lorax, "my feathered friends have all made nest, in the trees they decided they liked best. You can't impose upon their tweets, and come and steal their cozy retreats."
"Okay," said Once-ler. "Then I just won't cut those ones down."
"Oh, great excuse, I'm sure you know best, but how will you tell which ones have nests?"
"I promise to use my binoculars every time."
The Lorax considered this. "Well, my dear sir, even if that part might be alright, what about the fruit in which Barbaloots delight? This fare is their favorite sweet, juicy treat. They aren't the type of bears that just eat meat."
"Wait," said Once-ler. "There are a bunch of other trees around here that have fruit. So they won't be affected."
The Lorax sighed. "Beyond that, other things are at hand. Trees create fresh air for the rest of the land. Through leaves so frugal, they drink the air, and give it life, don't you even care?"
"Okaaaaay," Once-ler considered. "But counterpoint: there are still lots of other trees and plants around here to contribute to photosynthesis."
"I'm afraid I haven't been explaining this right," the Lorax said frustratedly. "Because the Truffula Trees are a special type. It takes hundreds of years for them to grow. Why waste them on cheap products, I don't know!"
Unfortunately, the insult only distracted Once-ler from his strongest argument.
"Hey, my product is NOT cheap! I put tons of effort into developing it. The Thneed actually took lots of research, and I had to fight and sacrifice a lot—"
"Alright, alright, you're getting offended! This conversation should really be ended. I'm just saying don't waste ancient trees. I don't see why it's so hard to agree…"
(Read the rest on Ao3).
It was really hard not to make the Lorax seem like a psychotic jerk here. I decided to make him into more of an unpredictable fae creature who will show more depth and have his say later.
I wanna try my best to steelman both sides in this, because the movie accidentally made Once-ler the most sympathetic by far. (Though even he didn't go far enough). Gonna give the Lorax his due soon.
The argument was important for me to include here, because the Lorax had no arguments in the movie and only relied on manipulative music.
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).
Do you ever kinda wish something would exist, so you just decide to make it yourself?
Read here. I release new chapters every week.
Nobody ever really writes about Once-ler's life on the farm. I imagined he had to help support his family and fight for the chance to study by making a space in the barn or something. I think that would've been more relatable. Excerpt below.
Only one evening did Once-ler's Ma visit the barn out of curiosity to ask what he was doing.
"Wow," she said, when she saw what he'd done to the place.
It was practically an office now, with books stuffed into barrels and crates, one of the stalls made entirely into a library with shelves and a file cabinet. Blue prints and charts were taped to the walls and ceiling, with even more piles stacked around the floor. The big drafting table took up the wall facing the door, with magnificent designs pinned to the drawing board. In the corner Once-ler's well-loved guitar rested in a safe spot underneath the hayloft. This had been transformed into a comfortable out-of-the-way bedroom and changing area with a mattress, a neat basket of folded clothes and a curtain.
"Wow, you really have it good, Oncie," she told him. "And we don't even make you pay rent. You got this whole place to yourself while we're all crammed together in that little cottage. Brett and Chet sure don't get anythin' like this!"
She didn't mention that Brett and Chet never took the initiative to work for anything like it.
"And taking all my yarn!" she said, noticing what he'd swiped from her supply and turned into a mass of unidentifiable shapes. She tapped her foot. “Have you ever considered moving out?"
"Actually… I would love to now that hard times have come to an end." Once-ler spun around, and twirled one of the pink blobs of yarn around on his finger. "In fact, I'm almost ready to go and sell my invention. I just need to find something better than this cheap yarn to make it with."
(Read the whole story on Ao3)
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!
original description:
"He was shortish. And oldish. And brownish. And mossy. And he spoke with a voice that was sharpish and bossy."
I'm gonna make him more mysterious than the movie in my fanfiction.
"Your presence here has run its course. Now heed my words, depart this place perforce. Ere sunset paints the valley's hue, begone, or nature's wrath you'll rue. Forces unleashed, a primal might, will curse you through eternal night. Beware, the warning's clear and grim. Your fate awaits if you stay within!"
Hey guys, here's the beginning of the fanfiction I'm writing on Ao3. The aim is to tell Once-ler's whole story from beginning to end without Ted interrupting. There are four chapters up so far, and a lot more to come:
"Where is it? Where did you put my guitar?"
Once-ler smacked his head as he looked under the triple bunk bed he was forced to share with his brothers in their small house.
"Reckon if ya don't get out there n' chop some trees, I'll let Brett n' Chet smash that dang guitar for good!" his Ma's voice called from the kitchen.
His younger twin brothers and sister laughed from the dinner table.
"Hurry up n' get more money from yer wood," Brett complained. "We only got three potatoes in our stew today, n' they're smaller n' ping pong balls."
"Yeah, an' none for you, Oncie," said Gizette. "I get the last one!"
"Why can't I ever have any of the stew if I'm always the one earnin' the money?" Once-ler tripped out of their closet-like bedroom, and squeezed around the table through the equally cramped dining area. This was made even harder by his abnormal height; he always had bruises on his knees and elbows from being such a tall person in such a small house.
Before him sat his shorter, but equally ungainly family, squished around the table: his mother with her teased up hair balanced by a bow, in her patched polka-dot sweater while serving brown stew water, the twins Brett and Chet with ripped up overalls and squashed hats who were staring eagerly at two tiny potatoes on their plates, and the youngest "baby" Gizette with ratty hair, buck teeth, and the biggest serving of stew of all (which was still not very big).
In the corner Once-ler's father was asleep in the rocking chair by the fire, using his old gray coat as a blanket. His gray hat was pulled over his stubbled face, and his ax laid on the floor beside him after his long day of woodcutting. Once-ler had to avoid the blade as he tiptoed to the only corner of the room with enough space.
"Because, sweetie," said his Ma, "You're the oldest child, and we have to think of the youngins. It's time for you to be an adult. Anyway, we've all got to make sacrifices when times are hard." The fancy unidentifiable dead animal she always wore around her neck bobbed its nose as she scooped the last tiny part of the stew into her own bowl.
This was always the excuse whenever Once-ler said he needed anything: "We have to think of the youngins." He understood the sentiment, really. It just seemed like he couldn't recall anyone ever using that argument during the short time he'd gotten to be the youngest. The youngest kids were also older than he'd been when they'd first started using this excuse. In fact, it seemed his family had decided Once-ler was an adult the second he'd been born, and that the others could never grow up.
I disappeared for a while but here I am again jakshaj i did some doodles sooooo....here they are 😼
The Art of Eric Guillon:The lorax,Sing and Despicable me All credits:Illumination Entertainment,Eric Guillon Movie concepts art
´´Now, the rest of the plan is simple. I fly to the moon, I shrink the moon, I grab the moon, I sit on the toile… Wait what?`` Felonius Gru
Despicable me/Sing Concept art. Illumination Entertainment