Red Civility and the Wolf of Rudeness

“I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone.” –Edmund Burke

 I’ve been thinking about Little Red Riding Hood—specifically the scene where she confronts her “grandmother” about her new look. “Oh Grandmother, what big ears you have.”“Oh Grandmother, what big eyes you have.”“But Grandmother, what large hands you have!”“Oh! But Grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!” It occurs to me that if this had been present day, Red would never have gotten that close. She would have insulted Grandmother with some quip about, “Girl, you look like death—what’s up with that?!” and dropped the basket at the door. I don’t think anyone wanted her to get eaten by a wolf, but because she did and survived, she was the better for it.This is a perfect illustration of what we’ve become. We’d rather go for the cheap laugh than really try to help someone. We think of kindness as falseness and are encouraged to, “keep it real.”Well, how’s this for real? Almost every law we’ve ever fought for and enacted has been in the furtherance of civility. Our constitution was born of a people who wanted respect and fairness. Should we be proud that we are a people who legislate thoughtfulness or sad that it needs to be written into law? Probably both, but in an age where people can anonymously churn out hate in a comment section perhaps Shakespeare is right when he writes discretion is the better part of valor.This isn’t coming out of thin air. I recently had an experience where my work had to be critiqued. I welcome the chance to hear other people’s thoughts and know it’s the only way to improve. However, one of my reviewers thought it was an appropriate venue to scrawl expletives and spew condescension in place of real criticism. I’m lucky I have a thick skin, but the sting was still there. More than anything, I was angry that the critic thought this was a good way to make a point.Fairy tales teach us that the kind and sweet suffer, but are rewarded in the end with (their version) of a happy life. I do hope that’s true.Its times like these I turn, not to fairy tales, but to philosophy. And when the subject is civility no one does it better than Edmund Burke. I leave you with this thought and hope it will help you when you encounter any incivility. 

“Rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength.” –Edmund Burke

Ending the year going Into the Woods

I’ve never been one for the obvious. If it’s too easy, it’s boring. If everyone is doing it, something must be wrong. So there’s no reason I should like Into the Woods. It’s so blatantly a metaphor for a life lesson. You go through the woods naïve and afraid of the unknown only to emerge smarter and warier of the road ahead. Red Riding Hood learns about the dangers of straying from the path. Cinderella finds her voice. The baker realizes he’s not alone. Jack loses a friend but gains independence. Even writing these lines I want to yell “DUH” at the screen.But I love it. I love the music. I adore the Witch. The message is clever even while being obvious. When I saw the production as a kid I thought it was so cool that someone decided to mash all these fairy tales together. Now as an adult I’ve gained new insight into the lyrics. It’s an honest to goodness family movie mostly because you can watch it all your life and get something new each time. This time I learned about reluctance.We’re days away from the New Year and that means the dreaded list of resolutions. Last year I did away with the entire idea of it with the notion that making a list is just a way to make me feel bad by April (or March) because I’ve lost interest in them. My resolutions are usually related to moving more and exercise. Despite my best efforts, I am generally a sedentary creature preferring to read and write more than move and sweat.I searched fairy tales for a good story on reluctance, but I have yet to find one. Reluctant heroes are not a problem in fairy tales. Princes chase down maidens who gratefully accept the assistance. Tailors seek adventures on the basis of having downed seven flies with one hit. Little girls with bold outerwear head to Grandma’s without a thought for the hungry wolf that lies in wait. Reluctance is not something fairy tale characters are acquainted with.Except in Into the Woods. Only kids have no fear of the woods. Adults are very aware that the unknown could hold danger or at least disappointment. They’re all reluctant to enter, but they go because it’s the only way to get what they want. Hemming and hawing are allowed, but the woods are still waiting. Just like the New Year and my resolutions. So, I’ll make my resolutions yet again and work to get past May with them (at least).No more hemming and hawing…the woods await.

Happy 2015!

Gardening Tips from Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Mary Mary quite contraryHow does your garden grow?With silver bells and cockle shellsAnd pretty maids all in a row I am a terrible gardener. More to the point, I’m a reluctant one. I find people and animals more rewarding than plants, so it’s hard to make myself pay the attention necessary to keep them alive. My mother is always trying to encourage me to plant things, but I always say the same thing,“It doesn’t work.”But she buys me plants which I promptly kill. I like gardens, but they're for other people. I imagine those people are also great at craft projects and make their own sausage. I picked my creative outlets, so I had to think of this from another angle. I like practicality, so I decided to try practical gardening.So I tried this year to keep a small herb garden. I cook a lot and I was tired of throwing out unused fresh herbs. At first it worked rather well. I cheated and bought one of those already started herb gardens which all sit in the same pot from the farmer’s market. After watering them for a few days I caught the planting bug and bought a few more. Then a vacation dawned and I actually worried about their well-being without me there to care for them. I bought those water globes, but there weren’t enough at the store for all my plants. So, I consigned the un-globed to Mother Nature and hoped for the best.I returned to a still thriving garden. I was surprised and even more surprising was how much I cared. So I kept watering and tending. I even started snipping some for dishes that needed fresh herbs. I felt smug—the way you do when you buy all organic and free trade—and planned for more plants.Then the inevitable happened. My cutting had damaged them. It kept raining, so I reasoned I didn’t have to water them as much. The purple basil lost its purple. My tarragon wasn’t growing any leaves. I started to lose interest. And then two incredible things happened. First, the sunflower seeds I leave out for the birds and squirrels had been planted and I had a surprise sunflower blooming in my garden. Then a blub I had thrown in an old garbage can because it had died began to grow. It made me think of the nursery rhyme, Mary, Mary Quite Contrary because if you looked in my old garbage pail you’d find a light bulb, shriveled tulip bulbs, and kitty litter left by the previous owners to keep the pail from tipping in the wind.My planned garden was dying, but a new magical one was flourishing. The sunflower already had its “day in the sun” and now the garbage plant is flowering. Hubby wants to kill it because it brushes against the car when we leave the garage, but I refuse. It’s become my affirmation. All summer I felt guilty because I wasn’t able to get my writing done. But now I know it was lying dormant, just waiting for the right time to flourish. 

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.

Waiting as taught by Thumbelina

I hate waiting.I rank it up there with pulling teeth and stupid people. It's not that I can't deal with having a tooth pulled or muddle through interactions with the intentionally daft, but I'd rather not--thank you very much!But writing has taught me about waiting because books don't spring forth perfect and complete when you snap your fingers. I've tried and barring the sudden arrival of Samantha or Tabitha, it won't happen. (I would have used a more contemporary reference like Charmed, but they were always so worried about that personal gain thing).Currently I'm in the longest waiting period, the time before school begins and my days become mine again. I now understand all those Staples commercials where parents push carts beatifically buying school supplies for disgruntled children--it is the most wonderful time of the year! As I've seen time and again, mothers (and fathers) who are also writers have had to reconcile their lack of productivity while their kids are home. We talk about it, write about it, commiserate and tell each other it's okay. Use the time for other things, like reading or in my case note taking for book 4.But all the sympathetic noises in the world can't silence that small voice in your head saying you had a deadline, which has come and gone. That got me to thinking about Thumbelina.You remember the story? Woman can't have children (I think because she's alone and sperm banks weren't exactly the rage in Early Modern Europe), so the village witch gives her a seed to plant from which a girl "no bigger than my thumb" is born. Good thing is wasn't me--I've killed cacti.Anyway, after the idyllic stage, Thumbelina is kidnapped, lost, stolen, and myriad other things which take her from her mother. And just like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, she wants to go home. At some point, winter comes (just as it always does--thank you GoT) and she knows she can't make the trek in that kind of weather. She hibernates with a field mouse and an injured bird until the spring thaw. And then she is reunited with her mother. But during this time away she made friends, met other people her own size, and even fell in love with a fairy prince (I object to that part, but it rounds out the story).Now I can't claim that I've gone on life-changing adventures, but I've spent time with my family, written notes and learned new things about my story I wouldn't have noticed if I was furiously writing. The same thing happened when I was looking for work. While I was keeping my head in interviews, resumes, and searches, I didn't stop to ask why I was doing it. When I finally took a breath, I realized I was happiest writing. I don't know if I would have made that leap if I were still keeping my head down.So, the next time I start to get down on myself for not finishing book 4 by the end of summer I'll think of Thumbelina. The journey is worth just as much as the destination...but I still hate waiting.

The Valiant Little Tailor and Other Brave Declarations

If ever there was a fairy tale character to look up to, I think Grimm’s The Valiant Little Tailor should be at the top of the list. Here was a man who had no problems telling the world about his amazing deed, even though the “seven in one stroke” he killed were only flies who wanted his jam. It led to other great deeds with giants, unicorns and even marrying a princess.The reason I admire the Valiant Little Tailor (or VLT for short) is his ability to declare his accomplishments to anyone and everyone he meets. I think we all have parts of ourselves of which we’re proud, but don’t date tell anyone. Mine is easy—I’m a writer.I know that sounds like a statement from Captain Obvious, but I find it challenging to tell people I’m a writer. I have this recurring fantasy where I finally tell everyone while simultaneously passing around copies of my newly published book. In a sense, I’m a closeted writer and I only tell people I trust to keep it quiet.But why? As I continue to navigate the publishing world, words like platform and following keep popping up. I know my silence will only hurt my chances of generating buzz and keeps me from things like Facebook and Twitter. Even this blog has the name FairytaleFeminista, but I’ve never listed my name. It’s hard to put yourself out there, but people who want to make their living in creative fields have to do it constantly.Writing becomes so personal because it’s mostly you and your words inhabiting a cozy universe of your making. In this world you can delete the unpleasant bits, reword the awkward phrases, and configure personalities that fit into your creation. When your writing becomes public, you can’t erase what other people think, do, or write about your work. And honestly, who’s a bigger control freak than a person invents people and decides their fates based on the needs of a plot. Doctors have nothing on writers when it comes to a God complex!Was VLT on to something? Should we just emblazon our truth on a sash and wear it out in the world? When is the right time to “come out” to friends and family about your literary aspirations? Will it be more like a debutant announcing herself at a cotillion or am I declaring my alternative lifestyle, horrifying the practical 9 to 5ers in my life? Well, I’ve taken a few positive steps in that regard and introduced myself as a writer to a stranger. That was easy. Let’s try some more.Hello, my name is Ivia Cruz and I’m a writer. I’ve written three novels and I’m working on a fourth.That felt good.Now what should I do about that LinkedIn page?How about you? What’s your VLT story?

Community in the Wilderness: Searching for a Writer’s Group in the Wilds of the Web

“Why did you start a blog?”It’s a question I get asked periodically by people who don’t write blogs. The honest answer is “platform”. It’s one of those buzzwords you can’t escape if you go to conferences, subscribe to newsletters, and generally stay abreast of the latest in writing and publishing. You hear it often enough that you begin to feel inadequate or inauthentic as a writer if you don’t have one. So, kicking and screaming I began a blog that focuses on fairy tales. It made the best sense because the YA series I’m working on is based on nursery rhymes and fairy tales.At first, it was a chore. I agonized over the About Me section, trying to sounds both informative and pithy enough that other people would want to read it. I tried to look at it as my “trial by fire” because whatever I wrote would immediately be critiqued. At least that’s what I thought until I realized how hard it is to make your lone voice heard in the cacophony that is the blogosphere. But even when I wasn’t read, I felt as though each posting was a courageous effort to put myself out there--proof I was a writer each time I clicked Publish.My best day was when, out of nowhere, a random person started following by blog. My initial reaction was, “Why are you following me?” But soon that gave way to real happiness and a renewed optimism in this process. Maybe blogging could be rewarding. Maybe I could grow to love it. Well, I was happy that I could at least find times to like it.I kept writing. I also kept blogging and reveled in every new follower. I would post and click (too often) on the Stats page to see if my post was being viewed. Often I would be disappointed by the turnout. Sometimes I was surprised by what really got people’s attention. Nevertheless, I continued hoping to find the magic recipe of topic and writing that would make readers want another helping. Then I fell into what all bloggers can attest to.Call it Blogger’s Blahs or Poster’s Paralysis, but I felt discouraged by the lack of interest and my lack of ideas. It came in waves, and then the Blahs ebbed because a new reader joined or a new comment would buoy me. The realization was almost anti-climactic. What I really wanted was not readership, I wanted community.Blogs about how to find a writer’s group or a critique circle are endless. They have stories of writer’s being bestowed with the friendship of like-minded writers like the Commandments. It all sounds so warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the solitary clicking of cold computer keys. You’re encouraged to branch out, make connections, join clubs and all will fall into place. Well, after a few hits and misses and, just like the querying process, you’ll find the perfect match for you. It’s like blind group dating or “Naked and Afraid” writer’s edition.My attempts to find my tribe have been mixed. I have one writer friend who is very dedicated to helping me with my writing and we’ve forged a friendship of respect and reciprocity that makes me believe in serendipity. But you learn early on that you need lots of eyes on your work.The rest of my circle (non-writers all) have fallen away, unable to keep up with the back and forth of rewrites. For once I could say without fear of sounding clichéd—It’s a writer thing, you wouldn’t understand. So, my search continues. Blogs exist to create a virtual community, but eventually virtual isn’t enough.Why did I start a blog? The short answer is to find more readers, but now I know it’s really to find more writers.Why did you start a blog? Is it the same reason you keep blogging?

The Hidden Minority Part II

I've been looking for a topic for some time now. After spending a week at Disney World, something occurred to me. Something I haven't shared with you.I have a confession to make.Like Frieda from Peanuts I have naturally curly hair. We even have the same "birthday" although mine is many years removed. According to my internet research (and we all know how reliable that is!) she made her debut on March 6th, 1961. Twenty years later, this curly girl blogger was born. I always liked Frieda because she, unlike me, was proud of her naturally curly hair and mentioned it at every opportunity. I, on the other had, tend to do everything in my power to make my hair straight, or at least no more than wavy. I know I'm not alone, but this year I decided to take a bold step. I've gone curly.To you straight-haired girls, this is hardly worth mentioning, but to those in the know it's a revelation. But the revelation also comes with a catch. No curly-haired role models, or very few on hand. The field gets even thinner when you look at the representations of classic fairy tale characters. Our only lighthouse in the sea of hair is Merida from Disney Pixar's Brave, whose hair was quickly smoothed out when she made her debut as a Disney princess. Even proud Frieda, with her bouncy locks, began to fade into obscurity in favor of helmet-haired Lucy and lanky-haired Marcie and Peppermint Patty.When did we decided that our fairy-tale heroes and heroines couldn't have naturally curly hair? After Snow White, it was quite a while before Disney even had a non-blonde princess, let alone a curly one. I watched the parades, princess meet & greets, and noticed a distinct lack of curls. Is it a silly thing to ask for corkscrews and fractals with a penchant for absorbing ambient moisture? I am officially adding curly girls to my hidden minority.I suppose there are more important issues to soapbox about like honest equality, world peace, an myriad other pressing concerns.I want world peace, and I think a great way to start is for me to make peace with my hair.

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?

Will Multicultural become a new genre?

When I was an undergrad, I had a work-study in the school career center. My main role was internet research, a sweet gig for a sophomore which came with an office and unfettered access to a computer. One day I was called into a planning meeting for a networking event. What made it different from the other networking events was its focus on multiculturalism. The office hoped to attract multicultural alumni and connect them with multicultural students. It was an excellent idea until I pointed out what I thought was an obvious glitch. Multicultural included the GLBT community and would attending our networking reception as say a white male, automatically out that student as gay? Here I was, a 19 year old intern and I'd stumped the professionals. Then I asked, perhaps naively, why the event had to be labeled as multicultural since anyone answering to that label should feel free to come to all networking receptions?I bring up this odd memory because I've been looking at literary agents "what I'm looking for" blurbs and noticed an odd trend. Some list within their interests "multicultural". Is that a genre? I always assumed that when they listed categories like YA, sci-fi/fantasy, thriller, and such they weren't specifically asking for white. For that matter, if they could, would an agent say they were interested in white lit? I think the backlash would be tremendous. I thought the publishing community was in the business of supporting those who create engaging stories with protagonists we can connect with and antagonists we love to hate. Does that have a color? A gender? An age?I'm well aware of the current hue and cry being sent up to make literature more inclusive and I agree that it should. I just wonder if trying to get more diverse will create a sort of literary segregation where multicultural will become its own genre. I'm sure there are those who would applaud the shift, but I think it would miss the point. In an age when the world is getting smaller while at the same time we're becoming more cosmopolitan shouldn't we embrace the idea of multiculturalism as a foregone conclusion? Not doing so sounds as antiquated as referring to female medical professionals as "lady doctors".Then again, I remember going to a writer's conference and having a pitch session with an agent who felt my YA fantasy wasn't edgy enough because the protagonist was too optimistic and attached to her mother. She explained that YA audiences expected more angst and snark. I wanted to explain that snarkiness doesn't fly in all homes, and particularly not in a Hispanic home, but I was too crushed to say anything after my protagonist was labeled middle grade. Would a separate category give my protagonist better opportunities?I don't know what the answer to this question--it's becoming a trend. But my research into NA and my adventures in publishing (or pre-publishing I should say) has given me more perspective. I'll take my cue from those NA writers who said the best way to change the market is to be a part of the market. Labels are a marketing tool, not a definition as to how I should write my stories.In the end, the career center decided to have a networking reception open to all and attracted students from all walks of life, but they still opted to call it a multicultural event. I still think it was just an event.

At the Crossroads of Fairy Tale and Folklore

According to my outdated (read: paper copy!) Webster's Dictionary the definition of fairy tale is a story about fairies, magic deeds, etc., while folklore is defined as the traditional beliefs, legends, etc. of a culture. So does that mean all fairy tales and folklore have in common is etc.? What's etcetera anyway in this case? I like to think that the etc. in a fairy tale are the traditional beliefs and legends and the etc. in folklore are the fairies and magical deeds. Which means they're the same, right? Well, now I suppose I have to address the 800-pound gorilla. That gorilla is called culture.Does culture determine whether a story is a fairy tale or folklore? Does that imply that anything that doesn't originate from Northern Europe (from where most popular fairy tales come) is folklore? Moreover does that imply that Northern Europe doesn't have a culture? Neither should be the case. Fairy tales started out as folklore which became so popular that they transcended culture. That means that all folklore, despite culture, can grow to fairy tale status. All they need is a little push in the direction of popularity.One of the barriers to wider appeal for many folk tales is language. Would we love Grimm's Fairy Tales or the stories of Hans Christian Andersen so much if someone hadn't decided to translate them? We should invite more cultures to the party. Right now the subject of diversity is really hot with writers, especially YA/MG writers of which I am one. It's kind of a minefield of emotions, political correctness, and common sense that everyone has to wade through. As a parent, I want to make sure that my daughter sees herself reflected in the books she reads and the shows and movies she watches. As a writer, I want to insert my reality into my writing (even though I write mostly YA fantasy). But as a bona-fide member of the person of color club, not to mention being part of the largest minority--womankind--I feel as though I shouldn't have to bang the drum too loudly because it's worse than preaching to the choir. Instead of asking for change, I'm going to make change (I know there's some funny cashier joke that I should make, but I can't think of one--any suggestions?). For my own edification and hopefully for your enjoyment, I want to explore folklore that begs to be more popular, starting with my own.  

April Fool

I think of April first as a time for the topsy-turvy to take over. I think the weather has a lot to do with it.I've never been one for tricks because I really do believe in the golden rule. If I drop a balloon full of pudding on someone's head can I really avoid a prank call about my car being totaled?Instead I want to write about the role of The Fool in fairy tales, one of the chief archetypes. What they all seem to have in common is that they are good for no reason. Their families go out of their way to give them the worst of everything and ridicule them for any kindness they show. So does that mean that a fool in the times of the Grimm Brothers was kind despite the wretchedness of his life?One of my favorite stories is The Golden Goose. The youngest of three sons (they're always the youngest of three) has to chop wood for his family because the elder two have had terrible axing accidents after denying a old man some of their lunch (talk about fools!). The Simpleton, who is given vinegar instead of cider and hard bread offers to share the meal and is rewarded with a Golden Goose. After parading around town with the treasure, and having townspeople stick to it and each other trying to pull off a feather, he arrives in a town that offers the hand of a princess if they can make her laugh. Being simple and not having noticed the train of buffoons behind him, he shows her the goose, everyone falls and she laughs thus proving that girls like guys who can make them laugh.Another story, The Queen Bee, runs along the same lines except he helped animals and insects who helped him in return. He and his smarter, older brothers are given impossible tasks to complete and the young idiot gets it done with the help of some ants, some ducks, and a bee. For his trouble he wins himself a castle and a princess to marry. These are called serendipitous fools, very popular in fairy tales. Couldn't we all take a lesson from that?I recommend that for today, instead of giving your best friend a fake winning lottery ticket or calling your parents and telling them you just got married, try being a fairy tale fool. Be nice for no reason and here's the kicker...people will think you're up to something thus playing the biggest trick of all. Happy April Fools!

The Danger

All endeavors have their pitfalls. Lawyers can become too jaded. Doctors--to robotic. Policymakers--to self-interested. And it doesn't stop at professions. A mountain climber will tackle an even taller mountain because she hasn't found one that has beaten her--yet. Surfers are always searching for that big wave and there's a moment between doubt and sheer terror where invincibility washes all questions away. For every creative person the next work, the next piece, the next manuscript digs a little deeper (you hope) until you reach a core where only you live. That's the danger. Living inside your head so much that no one can get in. That's what all these risks have in common--standing in your own way.Now that I've made this post sound so esoteric, let me bring you back to earth. I'm a writer and one of the things I write (obviously) is this blog. I concentrate on fairy tales, myths, and such and how they speak to us now. Not on an academic level, although it can sneak in there sometimes, but on a everyday human level. What does that mean? It means that I tend to spend a lot of time in my head figuring out what I think, feel, and believe regarding entertaining fiction. But living in my head I have a tendency, as many of us do, to overanalyze--to reach for something that maybe no one else sees. Nothing's more jarring to an analyst than someone who reads your thoughts and comes back with, "Really? You went there?" "Yeah, I went there! And what?" Okay that's defensive, but you get the point. But when you can't find something in your bag of tricks, you tend to reach for snark.This idea has been swirling around in my head for a while now and it started with Frozen, the new Disney movie sensation. I won't pretend that I didn't love it--because I did both as a parent and as a life-long lover of all (well, almost all) things Disney--but it's gotten a little over the top. People want to dress up like Ana and Elsa, they record themselves singing, Let it Go, for public consumption, and they overanalyze the message. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate the fact that (spoiler alert!) the main idea is true love which doesn't involve a prince. I'm writing a series trying to debunk the myth that all girl-power adventure stories have to have a romantic focus. I just think that the cult-like following it's attracting is...I'm searching for a word that isn't too judge-y...unbelievable. It's middle-aged women obsessing over Twilight unbelievable. Okay that was judge-y. Then I go back to my defensive analyst and hear others saying, "Yeah, I went there! And what?" To which I have no response.We all have our own obsessions. Mine just happen to be quiet and solitary, while others can be loud and in your face. I came to blogging kicking and screaming and still haven't joined Facebook or Twitter. I'm not secretive or shy, but I find I'm intimate. I'd rather have drinks at a bar than shots at the club. So, to end this long digression here's the danger of blogging--living in your head and then being too judgmental of other people's headspace. While it can be constructive, sometimes is can be cruel (like my Twilight remark). And though I don't promise that I'll always be big enough to take the high road, I like to think that I'm conscious of the danger.

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.

Early Inspiration

The first stories I told as a kid were ghost stories. You know the ones I'm taking about. The mysterious drip that came from nowhere. The woman with a ribbon around her neck. The hook in the car door. The Lady in White. The list goes on and on, but they were stories we told each other at slumber parties, at recess, and especially at Halloween.As an adult, I look back at those stories with a hint of longing. Longing for the time when Halloween was atmospheric and eerie. Now it feels more repulsive and gory. Scary yes, gruesome no. Whatever happened to The Wolves of Willoughby Chase or The Watcher in the Woods? If you don't know what I'm talking about, please look them up as examples of stories with real atmosphere.Being a writer has made me more proactive. If I feel there's an absence of something I want to read, instead of complaining I write it. So, despite being a rather mediocre poet for some reason Halloween puts me in mind to rhyme.All Hallows Evening

Quiet creaking

Gentle shivers

Paces seeking

Lighted slivers

         *

Moonlit pools

Carry secrets

Hungry ghouls

Hide in thickets

          *

Unsuspecting

Wander through

Anticipating

Only you

          *

Finding barely

What was sought

Knowing faintly

You’ve been caught

           *

Night of Hallows

Veils thin

Until the morrows

Stay in!

No Excuses...On with the Show

When I made the decision to become a writer, I made an interesting discovery. Lots of people in my life and some new acquaintances voiced the same desire. However, they didn’t have anything written down. Or they had an idea which they haven’t resolved. Or…the list goes on and on. This really bugged me--like people who use the elevator to go up one flight at the gym. Nothing brought this home to me more like the one and only episode of “Girls” I watched. (To my contemporaries, I apologize for having no interest in this series to which I’m supposed to watch like the Gospels.)

It was the pilot episode. To sum it up the lead Girl wants to be a writer and lives in New York City, which is beyond expensive, but she makes no money. She’s still an intern and when her parents tell her she’s cut off so they can actually enjoy themselves she throws a hissy-fit. Being on this side of thirty I no longer commiserate with Girl and now root for the parents. And no, I don’t feel old--just really peeved that my mother’s “wait and see” was more prophesy than idle rant. Anyway, at some point she shows up at her parents’ hotel to show them the book she’s working on. And it’s a mess! Jots and doodles on 10 pages about who knows what and the parents are thoroughly underwhelmed. I was, too. Maybe it’s harsh, but come on? That makes you a writer? No wonder you can’t get respect for calling yourself one unless you’re published.

Now, I’ve been a blogger for almost a year and I’ll admit it’s gotten away from me a times. As the title of the post says, no excuses, so I won’t bore you with details that will make you sympathetic to my plight. I have been working on a novel (two in fact), but this blog is my exercise. It’s like having a thriving business, but not being bothered to work on the accounts. It catches up to you. I refuse to let this blog become a New Year’s resolution that only makes it to March. Go to the gym, eat better, oh and use your blog to actually blog! So to that end, next week I will publish a short story about my take on the 12 Dancing Princesses (It also proves I have been writing, just not blogging).

I still don’t like “Girls” and I think people are too quick to say they want to write, too. But instead of griping about it, I’ll just get on with my blogging.

The female roadtrip - Red Riding Hood Grows Up

A reader and friend brought an article in The Atlantic to my attention. It is entitled:

It's Frustratingly Rare to Find a Novel About Women That's Not About Love

"Literary girls don't take road-trips to find themselves; they take trips to find men."

http://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/07/its-frustratingly-rare-to-find-a-novel-about-women-thats-not-about-love/277621/

Although the title is provocative enough to make anyone click the link, I'll summarize. The author, Kelsey McKinney, takes note that while plenty of novels center around the coming of age story, for men it involves an adventure and self-discovery. For women it centers around find herself through love and a man...or in this day and age it could be another woman.

In short, men look for themselves, women look for romance. At least in literature. And she bemoans this fact because in the real world there are plenty of women who do not think the be-all end-all of life is a husband and kids. Very few novels have women focused on finding themselves or pursuing a career without also adding a love subplot. She calls for more books like Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, about a girl who comes of age, but doesn't search for love and acceptance. She just grows.

I could argue that writers see women as more well-rounded people who know that the search for love is just as important as the search for purpose, which could include children, a mate, and a career.

Or I could argue that I am just as frustrated by the lack of adventure-seeking girls and women who can thumb their noses at romance.

The truth is, I can see both sides. I think it's just as sad that books geared towards men have them only pursuing a promotion or a trophy and I think love can be just as great an adventure as rolling down the Mississippi. However, as a writer what I see is a challenge. How do we revive the road trip that makes it possible for women to have just as much adventure as men? The answer seems to start with them as children.

I remember reading Pipi Longstocking and her parent-free adventures with her monkey and horse foiling robbers, teachers, and the police. She was wild, carefree, athletic, but she was still happy to have friends. Her road trip would have been a high-seas adventure, but with her father and therefore defeat the purpose.

Mathilda, by Roald Dahl, is also a good candidate for the "strong girl grows up to be strong woman", but with magical powers and being so decidedly good, I imagine her adventures would be rather tame and ultimately, safe.

Perhaps we can look to a fairy tale for the answer. She went into the woods a naive girl and returned a smart young woman. All it took was being swallowed by a wolf. I think she would have grown up to be an adventurer, despite promising never to stray from the path. Did anyone actually believe she kept that promise?  This is a girl who was eaten by a wolf along with her grandmother, was cut out of its belly by a huntsman, fills the wolf's belly with stones until he dies and when she goes back to her grandmother's house on a subsequent trip meets with another wolf who she outsmarts with granny's help by enticing him with the smell of sausages and drowns him. That's a girl I would take a road trip with, wouldn't you?

With a challenge to meet and a heroine ready for anything, I've decided to write a story about a grown Red Riding Hood seeing the world--fairy tale style.

The Tale of Red Riding Hood

Part I

                Once there was a girl who grew up quite suddenly after being eaten by a wolf. It was only natural that she should learn from such an experience and become more wary of the ways of the world and admire the strong female influences in her life.

                After her grandmother passed away, Red was left the cottage in the woods. But her adventures as a child gave her a longing to know the world better and so she closed up the house, put on her red cloak, and set off on a journey.

                Her first stop was to the city. It was the largest she had ever seen. But Red knew that wolves didn’t only lurk behind trees and bushes. They also walked the paved roads and roamed the taverns. Feeling prepared for anything life could throw at her, she entered one such tavern for lunch.

                The patrons glanced her way, wondering what a young woman was doing in a tavern alone, especially one with such an attention-grabbing cloak. She ordered her food and ate alone at a table ignoring the whispers. When the barmaid returned with her food, she stood next to the table for such a long time, that Red had to speak to her.

                “Good day to you. The food is delicious, but I don’t plan to order any more just yet.”

                “Look here, what are you doing in a place like this alone?” asked the barmaid.

                “Having a meal as all the others are doing. Why do you ask?”

                “All the other patrons are men and the women are accompanied. Are you lost?”

                “Not at all. But I have no destination in mind if that is your real question,” she replied and continued to enjoy her meal.

                “Then let me give you a word of caution. There is a man in the corner who has taken a particular interest in you. Others who have caught his eye have not been seen again.”

                “I am not a stranger to wolves on the prowl,” said Red looking at the man.

                “Pardon me?”

                “It’s no matter. I thank you for your warning,” she said and went back to her meal. The barmaid hesitated, but left Red alone thereafter. She thought her a foolish country girl and knew that fate and the city would treat her cruelly. Red had no such concerns and after finishing her lunch, paid her bill and left the tavern. Shortly thereafter the man in the corner rose from his place and followed her…

To Be Continued...

Adventures in Fairy Tale Land

As a child, when I read, heard and watched fairy tales it was always with a British accent. Mostly English, but occasionally Irish or Scottish. I was convinced, and movies seemed to back me up, that when Europeans congregated they all spoke English with an accent straight from Oxford. With that in mind, I assumed that all fairy tales were from the British Isles. From the Grimm Brothers to Hans Christian Andersen, all of them were from the English countryside. It stood to reason. Castles were in Britain. The Queen was in Britain, so it had to be true. Years, schooling and research have disabused me of that belief on an intellectual level. But in my heart, fairy tales have an accent.So, it was with great joy and more than a touch of whimsy that I set off on my vacation to the Lake District and Edinburgh (also the reason that I've been so negligent with my blog. I don't believe in internet in fairy land) hoping to have a fairy tale adventure. The countryside did not disappoint. I walked fells and through pastoral scenes that would make an shepherdess feel at home. I trudged through forests and scrambled through ghylls that held perfect hiding places for the fairy folk and maybe a wolf or two lying in wait for Red Riding Hood. I even walked through the world of Beatrix Potter, who although isn't strictly a writer of fairy tales, is still a staple from my childhood reading menu.Edinburgh was more gothic and therefore more Grimm, but in the nicest way possible. I climbed castle towers and ramparts almost expecting knights to lay siege. That may have been the whiskey haze, but I could see it. Swords, spears, and a stone of destiny were mythic, yet close enough to touch. Mary, Queen of Scots was like Rapunzel in the tower at Holyrood. This was not my first trip to the UK, but since starting my blog and committing to being a writer, it felt like a new place. Every corner was a literary opportunity and I could understand why I thought Britain was Fairy Tale Land as a child. I'll admit that this post sounds like a long digression on how I spent my summer vacation, but I thought it was important to share the most important thing about fairy tales. Why we love them. Why we read them. Why they're the stuff of dreams and nightmares. Please remember, dear reader, what matters most about fairy tales...WONDER

One Lovely Blog Award

I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled discussion about fairy tales for a brief digression.When you start writing a blog, you wonder if anyone will ever read it. At least I did. I'll admit I started it because I wanted a platform for my book after being told by a certain literary agent that without an on-line presence I was dead in the water. After burning off my righteous indignation, I decided that he wasn't entirely wrong and blogging seemed the least self-indulgent. Still, I had to rack my brain to find a topic I thought would be interesting enough for me to write week after week with the possibility of sending my thoughts into the void without a response.I took pleasure in small victories. Random people checking out my thoughts was great. Having my tenth follower made me happier than was probably appropriate. Now I have another reason to cheer...I've been nominated for the One Lovely Blog Award!According to the rules, I'm supposed to list 7 things about myself and nominate 7 other blogs among other things. First, I want to thank AP Roberts of the blog AP Roberts' Stories for nominating me for the award. (See the other nominees here)Now, here are the 7 little known facts about me from the random and weird to the informative...and also random. Enjoy!

1. My blog about fairy tales is really a platform for the YA fantasy series I'm writing called Rhymes & Misdemeanors, about a teenage detective in the land of Mother Goose.
2. I'm 32 and I'm still not on Facebook. I also prefer paper to my computer (sorry Cooper), but draw I the line at stone tablets and a chisel.
3. My dog doubles as my security detail when I go to the bathroom because, I think in his mind, the toilet is dangerous.
4. I'm married to my high school sweetheart and have one daughter, and reading her fairy tales is what incensed me enough to start a blog discussing and updating fairy tales.
5. My sense of smell is almost nez caliber and I considered making perfume a career when I was in high school (but I never told anyone).
6. Despite the nose thing, I have a BA in international relations and a MA in history, both which qualify me to write in complete and coherent sentences.
7. Favorite/Least favorite words: in English my favorite word is quotidian and my least favorite word  is funky. My favorite word in Spanish is ambos (meaning both) and my least favorite is jugoso (meaning juicy). In Italian, my favorite word is nuotare (to swim) and my least favorite is boato (meaning rumble).

I also want to take the time to nominate other blogs for the One Lovely Blog Award.

1. SurLaLune Fairy Tales: A blog discussing fairy tales in popular culture which also sends out alerts for upcoming books on bargain buys in fairy tales.
2. Something to Read for the Train: Reviews of the faerie, the sinister and writing.
3. SophieBowns: Seralized fiction stories as well as flash fiction.
4. Rebecca Hains: A media studies professor and author focusing on girls and media.
5. A-faerietale-of-inspiration: Really gorgeous arts and crafts based on fairy tales, myths, and nature.
6. The Art of Polemics: An unbiased view of history in a straightforward, yet intellectual way.
7. Coffee Stained: A site with a unique voice that discusses topics ranging from  storytelling to video games

Thanks for supporting the blog!

Princess Makeovers?

I’ve mentioned before that I like Disney. Besides their wonderful parks and the uplifting mantra that dreams really do come true, I enjoy the entertainment they provide for children in a world that has fewer G rated movies. I’ve also mentioned that I like the movie Brave despite the buffoonish male archetypes. Now, Brave’s Princess Merida is to become an official Disney Princess, an honor I’m sure. However, the approach has left me baffled.

It’s being called a “Barbie-style makeover” giving Merida a tinier waist, controlling her curly locks, exposing her shoulders and taking away her trademark bow and arrow. In its place they’ve added makeup and sparkles to her dress. Why?

I’m not the only one who feels miffed at the transformation. A petition at change.org was started saying “No to the Merida Makeover”. Our modern fairy tale has opted to become a cookie-cutter princess which completely negates the character’s essence. She spunky and fights not only conventions, but also her dress and any attempt to control her hair. Yet Disney has decided that before she can wear the princess tiara she should take it easy on the dessert tray. Which image do you prefer?

Purpose or pretty?

Determined or dolled-up?

Natural or nymphet?

In honor of Mother’s Day I was originally going to write a post about the role of motherhood in fairy tales, but instead I wanted to take the time to remind us that today’s princess could be tomorrow’s President and lipstick should not be a requirement. (And on behalf of curly girls everywhere, stop trying to tame my hair!)

[polldaddy poll=7096816]