A Fairy Godmother's Inner Life

When I first saw the Disney version of Cinderella, I was more interested in the Fairy Godmother than the girl who called her.

Let me quickly say, I have nothing against Cinderella. I know there’s a strong campaign out there against fairy tales in general because the romances are problematic. I think of them as more allegorical instead of aspirational. It’s how I’ve been able to write a blog called Fairytale Feminista without feeling my feminism is in any way questionable.

To return to the purpose of this post, I wanted to know what happened to the Fairy Godmother (I’m capitalizing her title because she didn’t have a name) after she sent Cinderella off to the ball. Or what about the three fairies that kept Aurora, the Sleeping Beauty, safe in the forest for all those years? Or the old man in the Golden Goose, for that matter, who told the Simpleton where to find his prize?

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We never learn more about the helpers in fairy tales. Whether the stories give them credit or not, the helpers are the reason many protagonists are able to realize their dreams. And yet we see them come into the story and just as quickly retreat from it. Movies and books seem obsessed with the inner workings of the villain. Where’s the interest in the secondary or tertiary characters who move the story?

Who would you like to see from fairy tales turned into a story? Are there any you can recommend?  

In the meantime, they say you should write the book you think is missing from the shelves. Stay tuned! 

Lives in Hyperbole

In real life, Cinderella would have slipped laxatives into her stepmother and step sisters’ morning tea or packed a bag for the next village. The youngest son in The Golden Goose would have refused to go chopped wood after his two older brothers had maimed themselves. Sleeping Beauty would have heard gossip which invariably went around the castle to find out why no one sowed. The brave little tailor would have killed the flies and then saved it as a fun story the next time he went to the tavern. The Three Little Pigs (putting aside anthropomorphized pigs) would have lived together in a brick house they could have built in half the time and avoided the wolf.

None of that happened because fairy tales live in hyperbole. Maidens aren’t pretty, they are rare jewels. Boys aren’t just resourceful, they luck into whole new lives. Queens are evil or destined to die (or both). Kings give away their daughters to anyone who can solve a riddle or kill a giant. And I accept that in fairy tales because the format is short story, and it must convey its message in a clear and concise way. Archetypes are helpful in short stories.

Lately I’ve been abandoning books that employ archetypes. While I’m fine with Cinderella having a martyr complex for most of the story knowing she’ll get out of her situation, I am less tolerant of novel-length stories about martyrs who constantly make themselves smaller and artificially unobtrusive. I know why the youngest son (the simpleton) had to go and chop wood, but if a story revolves around a protag that falls into danger every time he leaves the house, I’m annoyed. Keeping the secret of Sleeping Beauty’s (the innocent) calamitous christening is a major plot point, but if not sharing a vital piece of information continually causes problems in a book, I become frustrated.

I think I accept archetypes in short stories because I don’t expect characters to grow or have a real arc. That isn’t true in full-length novels, especially a series. I’ve abandoned books and TV shows for just that reason. Fairy tales need a short hand to convey ideas that just doesn’t work in longer stories.

Are there plots or characters you can only enjoy in the short term?

New Year, Old Story

Readers, December was tough. Something about dealing with the holidays under the malaise of a pandemic and all the other issues that came along with it made it impossible for me to sit down and write posts. It was a struggle to finish my next round of edits, but I prioritized that and finished. Now just two or three more rounds to go…

I know I’ve brought up Sleeping Beauty before, but the story seems right for so many occasions. Remembering to double-check your invitations. Being kept in the dark about a vital secret. Saved by a stranger, albeit creepily because he had to kiss you without permission. Learning to move on.

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In this instance I was thinking about the bit players. The townspeople and the royal couple, elder edition. After being asleep for 100 years, how do you shake it off? For the townspeople, would you be angry that the king and queen’s oversight caused a major case of sleeping sickness? For the king and queen, do you atone, abdicate or maybe form a constitutional monarchy after the inevitable uprising from your subjects? And of course, for Sleeping Beauty: do you pack a bag and decide to brave the wide world you’ve been denied? I’d like to think all that happens. I’d like to think that the happily ever after really involves everyone becoming wiser and more mature after such a shared experience.

And that’s what I hope for this new year. May we all become wiser and more mature after such a shared experience.

Marking Time with Tale Friends

The other day I was trying to conjure up my quarantine fantasy (not that being under quarantine should be anyone’s idea of a fantasy other than the whole stuck on a desert island with your dream lover, but that’s for another post). It included things like spending an entire day in bed with meals delivered up to my bedroom and reading an entire book, cover to cover, without interruptions. Actually, that last one figures in a lot of fantasies of mine!It got me thinking about what people do when they’re stuck at home and because this is a blog primarily about how I feel about fairy tales, it seemed only natural to consider what a quarantine would be like with one of them.First, I’d stress clean with Cinderella. I have a feeling even after the prince whisked her away from servitude, he’d find her scrubbing the throne room floor on particularly anxious days.The only sewing I do is the occasional button reattachment, so it might be nice to learn some handy crafts from the Valiant Tailor. Bonus: he knows how to brag and won’t mind if I crow about my meager accomplishments.After all that activity some peace and quiet might be in order and who better than to spend some moments of quiet contemplation with than The Little Mermaid (obviously pre-foaming). Shared meditation requires someone unobtrusive and she is it!Meditating makes me sleepy and I know Sleeping Beauty knows about napping through your troubles. It’s not the best way to deal with a problem, but it plays into my desire to spend an entire day in bed. She’d totally understand and never judge.Eventually I’d have to get up again and face the reality of all the people in my house who are quarantined with me. I love my family, but I love alone time too. To remind me of how lucky I am that I’m only sharing my home with two people and a dog, I’d switch with Snow White. Cooking, cleaning and sharing space with seven people—my nightmare!To clear my head after all that togetherness, I need to take a walk. Who better to invite along than Little Red Riding Hood and Grandma? They like the woods, despite the occasional double-talking wolf, and after you’ve survived being eaten, socially distant hiking should be a breeze.And lest your think I’d only hang out with the goody-goodies, I think some baking with the Old Woman in the gingerbread house, while risky, is worth learning how to make baked goods the size of building! And because I’d ask before nibbling on her frosted shingles, I think she’d forgo trying to make me into a pie.Lastly, Zoom cocktail hour with The Evil Queen because I am almost positive she can mix a mean drink!Who would you spend your quarantine with, if you could pull them out of your favorite stories?

Living a Fairy Tale Trope

It’s a familiar trope in fairy tales. Cinderella had her father’s estate. Snow White and Sleeping Beauty both had a cottage in the woods. Rapunzel had her tower with no doors. Belle had the Beast’s castle. In fairy tales, princesses tend to find themselves in isolation.It’s not unusual. These stories were written in a time when most women could measure their worlds in the square feet of their homes. Men worked outside—women, inside. But even modern fairy tales hold to the same truth. In the Disney movies Jasmine has to disguise herself to escape the palace and quickly has to return, while Elsa has been in seclusion for so long her sister Anna can’t even remember the last time the gates to the castle were opened.I’ve been thinking about these women a lot lately in light of recent developments. I hope Rapunzel had half the imagination of Anna or else she would have gone mad. Now, more so than at any other time I can think of, is when we rely on creatives to get over the sense of bewilderment. Maybe Snow White wouldn’t have let her stepmother in if she’d had Twitter to keep her company. Sleeping Beauty could have blogged about her weird kingdom without spinning wheels and started a Go Fund Me page for new clothes. And Rapunzel could have built a simple ladder from repurposed items in her room from a YouTube tutorial.

What I’m saying is, hang in there. Isolation isn’t as isolating as it has been in the past. There’s a lot of uncertainty, but there’s also a lot of creativity. And while I do want to thank all the brave women and men who are on the front lines of this pandemic, I also want to take the time to thank the women and men on the “homefront” playing music, writing stories, and doing the myriad other creative things that have made staying at home more bearable.And a shout out to delivery people—you’re doing amazing work! 

Fairy Tale Ambitions

I’ve been thinking about ambition lately. Wishes, yearnings, desires. It all sounds very intimate. Ambition is all about what we want deep down inside and work toward. We all have them, don’t we?Here’s where Snow White lost me. After escaping a death sentence because the queen’s servant takes pity on her and finding shelter with the dwarves, she sits back and cleans house.Cinderella lost me when she discovered her mother’s grave granted wishes asks for a dresses to go to a ball.The Sleeping Beauty, Briar Rose, barely wakes up and sees her family before they marry her to the who, according to the story, just happened to kiss her when the curse was weakening anyway.What they all have in common is ambition, or the lack thereof. Princesses (or in the case of Cinderella, aspiring princesses) hardly ever want anything aside from the essential. But given the power they could wield, they choose instead to be martyrs.Snow White could have easily told her story to the dwarves and at the end asked them to help overthrow her evil stepmother (who, if had resorted to killing children to be called the most beautiful must have been engaging in other nefarious endeavors). Cinderella could have asked for an escape route, money to fend for herself or if you want to get truly dark, a potion to rid herself of the evil women in her house. Briar Rose should have walked away—a hundred years under a spell and I’m sure she wanted to see something of the world before being tied down.Shouldn’t princesses dream of being queens? Queens seek power, respect (and yes some go the fear route), and to be more than they are. That’s not a bad thing. Ambition is part of human nature. What does that mean for fairy tale princesses?

Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rip Van Winkle and Me

Fairy tales and folklore have a tradition of putting protagonists in comas. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Rip Van Winkle are only a few examples of letting things cool down while the main character takes a prolonged nap. Evil queens are dispatched. Curses are lifted and generally life goes on. It changes the trajectory of the story, like painting oneself out of a corner.Snow White and the Evil Queen could have gone on like that indefinitely.How long could Sleeping Beauty avoid new clothes and spinning wheels?And Rip's laziness wasn't going to make much of a story if it didn't lead to something.Writers do the same thing. When I get stuck on a story, I work on another story until I feel refreshed enough to get back to the old story. I know other writers who go on retreats or put their work away for a prolonged period of time, hoping distance will give them a fresh look.Well, I'm currently stuck in a marketing spiral. I've written about this before, but I've decided to take drastic measures. With book 2 in my Enchanted Path series due before the end of the year, I need to concentrate on it exclusively for the next month. I'm proud that I've been able to post every Tuesday for almost a year and intend to continue.But for now, I need to unplug from social media and blogging. I'm taking a month and a half off to get a better handle on my new draft of A Noble's Path.I'll return in time for the anniversary of my return to the blogosphere with all new insights about fairy tales. 

Happily Ever After by the Fairytale Feminista

I’ve been writing about happily ever after a lot lately—questioning its validity, holding it up to a modern lens—and it got me thinking…What is happily ever after in a fairy tale sense? I can’t speak to everyone’s needs and feelings, but I know what it would take for me to consider any popular fairy tale a happy ending. The women must have choices.Sleeping Beauty: After thanking the prince for his helpful, yet impulsive act, Aurora (in the original she doesn’t have a name, so I opted for the Disney name) takes control of her kingdom and institutes a constitutional monarchy knowing that consent is the first rule of any society. She and the prince remain friends and allies.Snow White: Her time in suspended animation gives Snow time to think about her plight and that of her stepmother’s. She doesn’t forgive her for the cruel and heartless acts committed against her, she understands that in their world, a woman’s beauty is everything. Prince Charming revives her and asks for her hand in marriage, but she asks for a place with the palace scholars to ensure she has other options. Snow White becomes an advisor to Aurora.Cinderella: On the ride back to the castle, Cinderella asks the prince if they can take it slow and get to know each other better. She agrees to live in a separate wing in the castle and be formally courted. During that time, she works on converting the rooms for other young ladies who find themselves at a loose end after being released from slavery.Rapunzel: Wandering the world with twins strapped the her back makes Rapunzel think up new and inventive ways to make her life easier. When she finally finds the prince (and cures his eyesight), she’s able to take all the innovations she’s created and make them accessible to other mothers in the kingdom.Rumpelstiltskin: Solving the riddle of the little imp’s name that wanted to steal her child was just another instance of someone trying to control her. She sues her husband, the king, for custody of their child and a divorce (with her new skills finding information the king doesn’t want exposed) and opens her own private investigative service specializing in fairy affairs.The Little Mermaid: You’ve got me there! She had no good choices and happily ever after just wasn’t an option.Beauty & the Beast: After Belle saves the beast (a nice change to the genre norm), she realizes she can’t go home, but can’t stay with the beast who kept her on pain of killing her father. Instead, she decides striking out on her own can’t be any more frightening than living with a monster. Her gardens are the envy of all, although no one can begrudge her its beauty because of her generosity. Her roses are world-renowned. I’m sure there are other ways to make these stories tailored to anyone’s version of happily ever after. Cinderella could start her own house cleaning service. Snow White might start a gem consortium with the dwarves. Or maybe a twist ending—The Mermaid takes over for the sea witch, for example. Or the ladies could stay with their princes, but on more equal footing. Just so long as they chose their endings. What about you? Have you considered defining what happily ever after looks like in your favorite fairy tale?  

Plans and Villainy

I'm a person who likes preparation. I've always said my superpower is research. It comes from my curiosity and imagination--two things essential for any person, but especially a writer.This past weekend I attended a writer's conference for fantasy and needless to say I was underwhelmed. I spent months preparing. I researched the speakers (where possible because the panels weren't announced until a week before), I printed out marketing material for my current book, A Smuggler's Path and for my upcoming novella, The Cemetery Circle (unrelated to my Path series), and ordered a box of my book to sell at the consignment table.The night before I packed and made sure everything was ready both for my conference and at home. And it was... well...I was a great student. I don't say that with any conceit, but it was something I was really good at because it was the culmination of my all my strengths--preparation, curiosity, and imagination. I knew that if I worked hard, I'd get good grades and inevitably praise from my teachers. Sadly, I've discovered that's not how writing works. All the plans in the world does not guarantee that I'll be either praised or noticed. Not an uplifting thought, but a true one.That got me thinking about villains. Have you noticed that they're the one's that make plans and prepare in fairy tales. The Evil Queen didn't just wing it and poison Snow White--that took planning! You think Rumpelstiltskin hadn't run that "straw into gold" scam on some other desperate waif? He was way too practiced for that. The angry fairy in Sleeping Beauty had weeks to seethe about not getting an invite. Girlfriend had a plan! It's why they end up monologuing--they need to share all that hard work with someone.Only heroes get to make it up as they go along. They're saved because of good looks or charm. They show up with skills, but no preparation.So where does that leave me? With twenty unsold books and wondering if plans are really the way to go. Or maybe it gives me a little insight into the mind of fairy tale villains. When so much planning goes into an idea, is it any wonder they go a little mad?

Losing it

I’ve been thinking about loss and fairy tales lately. It’s the prologue to most stories, shaping the hero’s or heroine’s current misfortune. Be they motherless, fatherless, or orphans loss is the beginning of a story in fairy tales. Disney has made this fact into a cliché. It’s been joked that Frozen didn’t become a true Disney movie until (spoiler alert) the parents are lost at sea. I almost think it’s pointless to warn you of the spoiler because as I mentioned before, it’s Disney’s hallmark.So what can fairy tales tell us about loss? Is it the impetus that makes ordinary people into heroes? Do princesses (or would be princesses) jump at the chance to marry royal strangers because of “daddy issues”? Are feelings of abandonment just the push a boy needs to take on giants and consider thievery as a way of life? Maybe yes, but maybe nothing so blatant.As a historian, I’m aware that these stories were written in a time when disease, war or poverty would likely tear apart families. But fairy tales don’t care about the mundane. They focus on the fantastical, spinning tales that take us out of the everyday. Wouldn’t you want to escape a reality in which becoming orphaned probably only meant a life of impoverishment and servitude? In the real world, Cinderella would have grown old and haggard at the beck and call of those three spiteful cats. Or she would have run away to the city and been forced into prostitution to survive.But I’m not just a historian. I’m a person with whimsy who sees imprisoned souls in strangely shaped trees. All it takes is a too bright moon and I immediately start to spin a tale about a community of nightwalkers affected by its phases, collecting magical Moonshine. Not all the ideas become a full-fledged story, but more than a fair share get filed in my ideas folder. And one of the most basic things everyone wonders about is death and loss, so why isn’t it a prominent feature in fairy tales? Sleeping Beauty side-steps it with a sleeping spell meant to keep her in suspended animation for a century waiting for her “true love.” Snow White is barely cold in her glass coffin before Prince Charming comes along and dislodges the chunk of apple the dwarves were clearly too short to Heimlich. Red Riding Hood and her grandmother are swallowed whole by the Wolf only to be cut out of his belly by the Woodsman. Even the newest old story, Frozen, gives us a heroine who sacrifices her life and is rewarded by it being returned to her.In my search for loss in fairy tales, I came across a story from my childhood. It falls under folklore and legend more than fairy tale, and is a popular story in Puerto Rico. It’s called La Leyenda de la Piedra del Perro, or The Legend of Dog Rock. Not far from El Morro in Old San Juan there’s a small beach with a long natural rock wall. At its tip is a rock formation that when looked at from the right angle resembles a sitting dog.The story goes that a soldier, Enrique, from back when Puerto Rico was part of Spain, was stationed there, far from home and lonely for companionship. One day he finds an injured and emaciated puppy whom he nurses back to health with food and love. In return the dog never leaves his side and becomes his best friend. As is inevitable with all soldiers, Enrique is called to a battle which requires him to leave the dog behind. They part tearfully and as the boat carrying his human companion sails away, the dog (called Amigo) swims to the rock wall and sits there from sun up to sundown awaiting his return. There’s a brutal battle in which all hands, including Enrique, are lost. The dog overhears the news and rushes out to the wall waiting without respite. He stays so long and so still he turns to stone and remains there to this day.I’m not sure what that story teaches us. On the one hand loss is something that can’t be gotten over and you can remain stuck in a moment of despair without moving on. Or it could mean that loss forces out the very nature of a being. For the dog, it was loyalty. It could be said that for the characters of popular fairy tales, it was a desire to be more or escape their current situation. In both cases, it led to profound change. Fairy tales teach us that no matter how mundane today might seem and yesterday was, tomorrow could be extraordinary--either good or ill. They teach us that loss is not the end of the story.

Sympathy for the Devil?

There's a new school of thought roaming the halls for fiction. I've referred to it in the past as revisionist fairy tale history. The stories handed down through the generations are very clearly morality tales all with the same basic message--being good is better than being bad. There are myriad ways to put that, but the easier to digest the better. Wolves, vain queens, little men who can spin straw into gold are best avoided and it's easy because they so obviously look evil. It's Black Hat Syndrome or the Disney-fication of character as I like to call it. But a new tendency, a revisionist modern view, is starting to take root in fairy tales.I say modern because it's our modern sensibilities, our post-Freudian minds, that asks the question, "Why does evil exist?" It begs the question, what happened in the evil queen's life to make her hate the step-daughter so much? Can we really blame a wolf for wanting a meal--a lot of us eat meat? Is it wrong to expect payment for doing all the work while the maiden gets a new life? My question is, do you think our fairy tale reading ancestors would have asked these questions?It's a topic I've been wrestling with lately regarding the new crop of fairy tales. I'm sure everyone knows about Maleficent, Disney's new live action take on Sleeping Beauty from the villain's perspective. I will admit, when it first heard about it I was a little miffed because I was in the middle of writing a novel called The 13th Fairy based on the original story and I set it in Reconstruction America. It was told from the point of view of the overlooked fairy who didn't make the party list because of a lack of golden dishware. A ridiculous reason to exclude a guest who has the potential to give some great gifts or (as they found out) a truly horrific curse. I started to wonder what happened to the fairy after she dropped the party-killing bomb. I thought her story would be much more interesting than a girl who falls asleep and waits for a prince she's never met to wake her with a kiss. I always thought it was a little presumptuous of the other fairy to put the rest of the castle to sleep while they waited for the big rescue. Talk about royal prerogatives! Nowadays the castle folk would have sued.But I digress. I think it's a sign of maturity when you start wondering more about the bad guys in a story than the heroes. When we're kids we ask why about everything, but I don't remember questioning the stories that ended "....And they lived happily ever after." I figured it went without saying it included pretty dresses and lots of cake, the only happily ever after a seven year old can imagine. Now I wonder about the other characters. Were the castle folk paid for their time in stasis? Were the king and queen relieved to have some new clothes? Most importantly, did Maleficent (the best name for a villain, by the way) regret her impetuous act or did she have a real axe to grind? I still haven't seen Maleficent, but I can't wait to find out what happens.Are there any fairy tale villains you wish you knew more about?

The Hidden Minority

I have to say that I am encouraged by the current push of contemporary fairy tales. They give women a voice and often make them front and center as heroes in their own stories. The LGBT community finally has a glimmer of hope in seeing protagonists that have the same thoughts and feelings as they do. Latinos, African-Americans, Asians, and myriad cultures are being discovered within the pages of novels which before had almost ignored their existence. I don't think we've reached the goal of true diversity in stories, but I can see light at the end of the tunnel.Except for one slice of the underrepresented pie...Now, I'm willing to be proven wrong on this front, but I think stories have failed to acknowledge a particular segment of society. It's one that exists across all borders, within every culture and comes from every socio-economic background. I speak, of course, of the Plus-Sized protagonist. In an age where we worry that the population is overweight and health issues like diabetes, high cholesterol and heart disease are of serious concern, I understand why we are reluctant to glorify a state which could bring about all of these things. Then again, we glorify the bad boy who after years of being a dick can find his heart because of the love of a nice girl.Here's the deal. I don't hate skinny girls. I will admit to the occasional bouts of "big girl rage" when I skip dessert but want to chow down on some cake. But I can't be angry at someone who can eat anything they want while I have to exercise in order to stay in my favorite jeans. Everyone has something! I just don't understand why every heroine (and hero for that matter) has to be willowy thin with athletic abilities. How is it that the bookishly smart hero, who spends all his time in the library also manages to have a perfect BMI? Is the chubby sister any less deserving of a prince than her wasp-waisted sibling?I suppose I can imagine anyone as Sleeping Beauty or the miller's daughter in Rumpelstiltskin. That's the power of an immersive story. But then I see the story come to life on screen. Yes, I'm one of those annoying people who whispers "The book was so much better", but we live in a visual age. Even if I don't want to see the movie version of The Great Gatsby, I can't help but think of Leonardo DiCaprio whenever I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's book. So unless I want to live under a rock, the actors cast as my favorite characters tend to stick in my imagination. Would it be so wrong to hope for The Zaftig Mermaid (something to keep her warm in the big ocean) or a pleasantly plump set of sisters in Frozen (for the cold winter nights)? Red Riding Hood and Cinderella were work horse, traipsing through the woods with heavy packages and cleaning house for an exacting step-mother, respectively, so I understand their thinness. Couldn't Belle have been just as...belle...if her voracious reading came with a chocolate and croissant habit? Rapunzel was looked up in a tower, for goodness sakes, and you're telling me she couldn't have been cute if she were full-figured? Yes, I'm fixating on Disney, but it has given us the most popular versions of these heroines.This doesn't only have to apply to fairy tales. I would love to hear about a popular YA series featuring a sassy and shapely girl or a handsome yet husky guy. They would have to be just as capable as their lean counterparts and most importantly not apologize for their size. Just a thought.

The Looney Tunes-Fairy Tale Conundrum

What do Bugs Bunny and fairy tales have in common?

There’s no punch line, although I’ll give points to anyone who can think of one.

Besides the obvious--animals and humans talking to each other without flinching--there is an answer. But first, some background.

I’ve been toying with the idea of allowing my daughter to watch Looney Tunes. I’ll admit I have some reservations about the matter. Bugs Bunny may be beloved, but he’s also disgraceful. He encourages belittling those with speech impediments, has a serious penchant for violence, and is rather found of racist humor. What do I do when she asks me about the decidedly politically incorrect material she’ll be exposed to in seemingly harmless cartoons?

Well, perhaps I can comfort myself in knowing that the Grimm Fairy Tales I read her are just as grotesque and amoral. Have we ever stopped to think about how stunningly violent most fairy tales are? Most characters die, are cursed, or are subject to years of slavery and servitude. And those are the good guys! The bad guys are certifiable, willing to risk life and limb to win against servant girls, princesses, princes and anyone standing in their way. Who tries to kill a baby because she wasn’t invited to a party? A nutcase with antisocial tendencies! Or in this case, a fairy who felt slighted. (Sleeping Beauty anyone?)

I came across this post, which wonderfully illustrates the parental dilemma of big and bad versus warm and cuddly.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2009/oct/13/adult-content-warning-fairy-stories

So, the truth is, neither fairy tales nor Looney Tunes were meant for kids. The gruesome descriptions and off-color humor were originally meant for adults, who are prepared to see gray where children see only black and white. Does the fact that we have made this material available to children make gratuitous violence acceptable in their TV and literature?

Maybe the answer isn’t so cut and dry.  As a parent, I worry that my daughter’s concrete way of looking at the world will be skewed by the things she reads and watches. As a parent who still remembers being a child, I know I watched way more TV and read books too mature for me. I turned out fine. As a matter of fact all those fairy tales, Disney cartoons, and Looney Tunes gave me more imagination than I can contain. It’s why I write.

Have you figured out the answer to my question? Fairy Tales and Looney Tunes were supposed to be for adults, but when I indulge in either I feel like a kid again. Probably because that's when I first experienced them.

That’s all folks!