WRITING CLASS By Robert Sheckley "Never use cliches in describing alien life-forms," Professor Carner admonished his class. But Eddie persisted--with good reason! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy December 1952 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Eddie McDermott paused at the door, then caught his breath and tiptoed into the classroom and to his seat. Mort Eddison, his best friend, looked at him reprovingly; the class had been in session for almost fifteen minutes, and one just didn't come late to Professor Carner's lecture. Especially on the first day. Eddie breathed easier as he saw that Professor Carner's back was to the class as he completed a diagram on the blackboard. "Now then," Carner said. "Suppose you were writing about the--ah--the Venusian Threngener, which, as you know, has three legs. How would you describe it?" One of the students raised his hand. "I'd call it a three-legged monstrosity, spawned in the deepest hells of--" "No," Carner said quietly. "That kind of writing might have been all right in the earliest days of our subject. But remember: You are no longer dealing with a simple, credulous audience. To achieve the proper effects nowadays, you must _underplay_! Understand? Underplay! Now, someone else?" Mort raised his hand, threw a glance at Eddie, and said: "How about, 'this tri-pedal blob of orange protoplasm, octopus like in its gropings--'" "That's better," Carner said. "Tri-pedal is very nice, very exact. But must you compare it to an octopus?" "Why not?" Mort asked. "An octopus," the professor said, "is a well-known form of Earth life. It inspires no terror, no wonder. You might better compare the Threngener to _another_ strange monster; a Callistan Eddel-splayer, for example." He smiled winningly at the class. Eddie frowned and scratched his blonde crewcut. He had liked it better the first way. But Carner should know, of course. He was one of the best-known writers in the entire field, and he had done the college a favor by agreeing to teach the course. Eddie remembered reading some of Carner's stuff. It had scared the living daylights out of him when he was younger. That description of Saturnian brains immobilizing Earth-confederation ships, for example. That had been a great yarn. * * * * * The trouble is, Eddie thought, I'm just not interested. He had had serious doubts about this course. Actually, he had signed up only because Mort had insisted. "Any questions at this point?" Carner asked. One of the students--a serious-looking fellow wearing black horn-rimmed glasses--raised his hand.