Summer Shorts #6: The Faery Door

Tales about fairies warn us not to walk through strange doors, but the protagonists do, either unwittingly or out of necessity. The doors are found deep in forests or hidden in caves and look intriguing. I love an interesting door as I’ve mentioned before and I wanted to put a few more I’ve come across this year.

What’s your idea of random beauty?

The Mushroom Fairy

My last post I focused on the magic that I found traveling on the west coast. A comment from one of my readers who lives in the west coast made me think about how there are times that we forget how magical our own backyards can be.

When I moved to my house over ten years ago, I walked my daughter to and from preschool. She's older now and walks herself, but I still enjoy walking in my neighborhood. Most especially I love seeing mushrooms. At this time of year they crop up everywhere and I can't resist taking pictures of them. Mushrooms are magical in my opinion--the colors, the shapes, the sizes, the suddenness--all of it is amazing and though I'm not a poet, it inspired me.

The Mushroom Fairy

She sets to work in the dampness of dusk

Arms laden with magic, air heavy with earthy musk

Soft soil delights in fairy tending

Seedlings thrive and ivy wending

By dawn all spells have been cast and thrice chanted

Greens, golds and grays securely planted

What sprouts are spongy clouds, an enchanted playground

Where fairies play and dreams abound

Liminal Lands

Are you a collector? I collect words. Hear me out. When I was little, I collected stickers and interesting rocks. When I got older I started collecting glass bottles. I’ve always collected journals and pens, but as any collector knows, collections need space. There comes a point when you must tell yourself the collection is finished. Not so with words!

Words evoke and illustrate. In the right hands (or mouth) they can create whole words or destroy them. There’s power in words and potency in the right words. The same is true of a story, itself an intricate working of words.

So, when I found myself at a loss for the right words to complete this post, I decided to incorporate my love of stories and interesting words. Part of the joy of collections is occasionally trotting them out and remembering why you like them. Here's one of my favorites:

LIMINAL: adj. of, relating to, or situated at a sensory threshold

I can’t think of a more appropriate word to revisit for a blog based on fairy tales. It is said that fairies occupy the space between ours and the hereafter—the Liminal Lands. How else can fairies attain immortality?

The best example I have of the liminal is Rip Van Winkle who, in some versions of the story, falls asleep after drinking with mysterious men thought to be fairies and wakes 20 years later with a longer beard but otherwise unchanged. He slept in the liminal space and somehow went unnoticed.

Do you have any favorite liminal spaces?

Kaaterskill Falls, Catskill Mountains, NY

OOO October's Outta the Drawer Originals, part V--The Finale

October is almost over and with it's departure comes my last entry for OOO October's Outta the Drawer Originals. I hope it inspire at least one or two of you to unearth some old stories or come up with some new ones.My finale is inspired by my yearly Halloween costume--a night fairy. It's more a concept than a reality. I imagine them to be the fairies that are in charge of rules, even if fairy rules are different than our own.Siduenya

Guest Post on Outland Entertainment!

Hey FF readers!In an attempt to generate some buzz about my upcoming novel, A Smuggler's Path, I wrote a guest post for Outland Entertainment about the search for universality entitled, Fairies with Dark Faces. Drop by the website and then feel free to learn more about my book on my other website, booksbyilcruz.com 

In search of other stories--part one

As you know, dear readers, I have a complicated relationship with fairy tales. On the one hand, they're a great source of historical values and entertainment. But on the other, the anachronisms are hard to stomach sometimes. Especially as a woman.Even with my serious case of doublethink, I seek the stories out to better understand them, and to understand where we came from. Not only do I read fairy tales and folklore, but I also love mythology. I read Greek myths as a child and thought they were the perfect mix between fantasy and history, just like a fairy tale. And their purpose was to explain the unexplained. That led me to Norse mythology, Celtic folklore, and then it hit me. What about the other stories?I know I've beat this drum before--diversity and inclusion is something I'm passionate about--but I'm not talking about that exactly. The other stories I'm talking about are related to other cultures. I think I remember learning about a trickster storyteller from an African culture and one or two stories about Hindu gods, but very little else. As a Latina and specifically a Puerto Rican, I learned nothing about Taino mythology. Why is that? Honestly, the only answer I have for that is if they're not looked for, they can't be found.Indigenous peoples all over the world have myths and legends that are strikingly similar and vastly different than the ones from northern Europe. Stories about fairies, little people, monstrous creatures, gods and goddesses. These are stories that should be available and told again and again.In the coming weeks I hope to do my part, small as it may be, to help shed light on other stories and show how similar, and how different they are from the stories we all know. I hope you'll share stories, too. 

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 Tale of Red Riding Hood...Part II

When we last saw our heroine, she was leaving a tavern in search of an adventure and being followed by a mysterious man with a nefarious reputation.Red continued down the path through the middle of town. The sun wasn't warm enough to take off her namesake cloak. The chill in the air didn't seem to bother all the townsfolk walking about and stealing glances at it. But whether they were staring at her or her clothing was of little importance to Red. She was more concerned with finding a quest. What she didn't know was that adventure was coming for her.

“Are you lost little girl?” asked the man as he approached.

“I am neither little or lost, sir,” she replied making a point not to look the man in the eye. Her hand instinctively went under her cloak to assure herself the ax the woodsman had given her was still accessible. The reflex was not lost on the man and it gave him an idea.

“Ah, an adventurer. I knew from the look of you that you were no ordinary girl…young woman,” said the man warming to his theme. “I think I may be able to help you.”

“I do not need help,” she replied, but she stopped nonetheless. Something in his voice was compelling. Then again she remembered the flattering wolf who led her astray. “Who are you?”

“I am a traveler, like yourself. I was going to the capitol, but I’ve been told there is a fearsome band of outlaws living on the roadway and walking it alone has become treacherous. I had hoped to get a group of people to walk with me. Outlaws are less likely to attack a group. Sadly, none will make the journey with me for they are frightened. Perhaps the party that came with you would allow me to join them?”

“I came alone for I can take care of myself. Wolves are all the same whether on two feet or four,” she replied with a smirk. The man stifled a chuckle at her arrogance.

“Perhaps we two can share the journey together. I can see you are quite capable and it would set my mind at ease to have someone such as you as a companion. My name is Rummy,” he said with an odd smile.

“I am Red and I would happily accompany you on your journey,” she replied feeling the adventure about to being.

What could another trip through the woods hurt? She thought. They decided it would be best to waiting until first light before heading out on their trip. That night, while Red was sleeping in her bed dreaming of heroic acts, her traveling companion was making his way into the woods to make ready for their departure. A low growl carried on the wind.

The next morning, bright and early, Red and Rummy set off for the capital. Rummy said little and Red preferred it that way. They walked in silence through the green wood looking for signs of the band of thieves. On and on they trudged until they reached a section of the woods that was dark despite the midday sun.

“I believe we should stop here and have our lunch. We are nearly half-way to the capital by now,” said Rummy in a loud voice. It felt out of place in the dark of the woods and startled Red.

“It’s best to press on and save our hunger for the capital. Stopping in the woods is never a good idea,” she replied remembering smooth words from a mouth that had eaten her.

“No, no. I cannot take another step without a little rest. We have not seen or heard anyone for hours. Perhaps the outlaws have moved on to a better location,” said Rummy, sitting down and opening his pack. Red was starting to think it would have been better to walk alone, but the sight of food melted some of her resolve. She sat down and opened her pack, as well.

Rummy chewed slowly driving Red mad with impatience. As she was about to give voice to her irritation, she heard rustling in the bushes. She stood up and looked down at a smiling Rummy with teeth she could almost remember.

A pack of wolves circled their picnic area bearing their teeth and growling. Rummy looked completely at ease and Red realized that she had been tricked. One of the wolves crouched low, coiling his muscles for a high pounce. Red ran through the trees narrowly avoiding his lunge. She could hear them running on the underbrush, snapping twigs and gaining ground. The high laugh of Rummy drifted through the trees, mingling with the howls of her pursuers...