#fairy tale retellings

[fictionadventurer]

Part of the reason that the ending of Ella Enchanted works so well is that the final command she resists is the voice of temptation. A voice tells her to do something she wants to do more than anything in the world, but that she knows the long run would cause immense harm. Her fight against this is difficult and heroic because she has to fight her own inclinations.

Ella's endured a million commands that force her to do something she doesn't want to do. We see the injustice in that. We don't want her to have to blindly obey. But if the curse was broken by resisting one of those commands, it wouldn't feel nearly as powerful. It would merely be an escalation of what she's already done. She would rebel against authority and do what she wanted to do, which could be good or bad depending on what it is she wants, but it is ultimately self-serving.

Ella's resisting a command that offers her the greatest desire of her heart is heroic because it is self-sacrificial. She is called to obey a voice that is greater than her own desires. This resolution rings so true because it points to ultimate truth. The curse of obedience is broken when she obeys--not the voice of authority, or the voice of temptation, or the voice of her own desires, but the voice of virtue. She breaks the bonds of obedience by choosing to take on the bonds of love.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

What If? is the question that drives most retellings. This works best with the well-known fairy tales. Everyone knows the original story, so readers will be interested in how you twist it.

You can change

Plot: What if Cinderella didn't go to the ball?

Character: What if Snow White was evil?

Setting/Genre: What if Sleeping Beauty was set on a spaceship?

Theme: What if Beauty and the Beast was about family love instead of romance?

There's a variation of the plot What If? that asks:

What's Next?: What happens after Cinderella marries the prince?

In this case, you're writing a sequel. The fairy tale is backstory, and your story is something new.

There's also a mash-up What If? that asks:

What if these two stories were combined?: What if the prince in Cinderella was also the Beast in Beauty and the Beast?

Here, the readers are pulled through the story because they want to see how the plot and characters of these stories fit together into something new.

In all these cases, What If? is the question that motivates your readers. They want to see how your changes make for a different story.

With traditional retellings, you have to ask different questions. You want to tell a story with the same plot, characters, and setting as the original--maybe because you love the original story so much, maybe because you're retelling an obscure tale. But then what's the point of your story? What question are you going to answer in a way that can't be satisfied by reading the original tale?

The questions that work best here are:

Why?: In fairy tales, things usually happen "just because". There's very little explanation of why events happen a certain way or why characters act the way they do. Asking Why? allows your story to give an answer that explains confusing or ambiguous points in the original story.

Who?: Fairy tales don't dig very deeply into the psychology of their characters. A retelling allows you to enter into the perspective of one of the characters and explore what it would be like to live through the events of the story. What kind of person acts the way this character does? What fears and hopes motivate them? What do they think about the events of the story?

There's a variation of Who? that asks:

Who is telling the story?: This is your classic POV switch. Your story can have the same plot, setting, and characters as the original, but if you focus on the viewpoint of someone other than the traditional main character--the love interest, the villain, a side character, a confused bystander--you can wind up with a very different, sometimes almost entirely original story.

Almost every retelling needs to answer at least one Why? question. Even if it's a minor plot point, your story should offer a clarification or a rationale behind some element of the original. Asking Who? is a great way to expand upon the fairy tale and make it something more psychologically complex. First-person point-of-view is very helpful in this case, because it instantly adds something new to your telling of the story, even if you follow every beat of the original tale.

What If? retellings also need to answer Why? and Who?, but they're not the driving force in the same way that they have to be for traditional retellings. What If? allows for a twist that's the driving force behind the story, but when you're not changing anything, the depth that Why? and Who? provide is crucial to making your story feel new.

[thereadingchallengechallenge]

Review: Skysong by CA Wright Rating: 4/5

All her life, Oriane has sung her song to bring the dawn. But when something calls her to the palace, she finds herself trapped. Her only hope is the lady's maid assigned to her who sings a song of her own.

When I saw this was a reimagining of Hans Christian Andersen's The Nightingale, I couldn't figure out how Wright could possibly have reimagined it into something interesting. The original is just ... lacklustre. But this is one of the most beautiful fairy tale retellings I've come across in a long time. 

The writing is simple and enchanting. The characters are calm but full of emotional underneath. The story itself is quite action-packed but reading it felt like flowing down a quiet river which was an incredibly nice feeling. 

This isn't a hashtag-cozy-fantasy but it's certainly a fantasy that leaves you with a warm fuzzy feeling inside. And there are lesbians. So if those things appeal to you, definitely track down a copy. 

[ekbelsher]

I always prefer the line art to the finished piece

[wangxianficrecs]

One for Heaven and Earth by cerbykerby

One for Heaven and Earth

by cerbykerby (@cerbykerby)

T, 7k, Wangxian

Summary: An incredulous "Whoa," behind Lan Wangji yanks him out of his meditative state. He spins around fast enough for his wet hair to stick to his cheek. His eyes widen in horror. On the shore of the Cold Springs, Wei Wuxian stands, half-dressed in his own robes. He holds up Lan Wangji's heavenly robe, the fabric shining like spilled stars at midnight. "Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian breathes, a whole constellation reflecting in his eyes. "What's this? It's so—" ---------- On the night Lan Wangji's mother left, she gave him a divine robe and told him to never let anyone see or take it from him. Kay's comments: Absolutely loved this re-telling of MDZS where Lan Wangji's mother was a heavenly maiden and made heavenly robes for him and his brother. A very creative look at the backstory between Lan Wangji's parents and I love the subtle ways it affected his relationship with Wei Wuxian as well. Beautifully written too! Excerpt: The Gusu Lan forehead ribbon means self-restraint. It is not meant to be touched by anyone other than one's fated person. Only with one's fated person can one truly be free. The heavenly robe is a gift bestowed on Lan Wangji by his mother. It is a status symbol as much as it is a part of his identity. Celestial blood flows through him. The robe is proof that he is entitled to walk among the heavens as he does on earth. To steal his robe would be to deny him his birthright. To even have permission to touch his robe would be a sign of complete trust. A forehead ribbon from his father. A heavenly robe from his mother. Both hold heavy significance. Neither can be given away without careful consideration. Which, to Lan Wangji's alcohol-riddled mind, is the perfect reason why Wei Wuxian should have both items.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan lives, lan family feels, chinese mythology & folklore, fairy tale retellings, canon compliant, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, loss, angst with a happy ending, supernatural elements

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[of-the-way-and-wildflowers]

I know we’re all excited about the Jurdan moments in Prisoner’s Throne but I gotta circle us back to Wren and Oaks story for a sec. Has anyone else noticed the Snow White undertones of the story? It very, very loosely based where it is more subtle nods but it’s there. Wren as a child being corpse pale, the hunt for her heart and the deception of an animals heart!?! Those are the one I remember in Stolen Heir. In Prisoners Throne, Oaks kiss brings her back to life!?! I love when Holly Black does this. Like with Cruel Prince it was Alice in Wonderland. Did y’all notice any others cause their story already has me in a puddle in the floor then there are these nods and aaaaahhhhh

[specificpollsaboutbooks]

Favorite Rewritings

Round 3

Rilla of Ingleside is a retelling of WWI, "one of the only contemporaneously written books about life on the Canadian homefront during WWI"

The Lunar Chronicles are a retelling of "multiple fairy tales: Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Snow White"

"sci-fi fairy tale adaptation/rewrite, one of my favorite series ever, the world building is amazing, characters feel so real, plot hooks you in, it gets better on every reread!"

[dragonbadgerbooks]

September Fun Day Book Photo Challenge September 24, 2024: Be Brave Day

You need a certain type of braveness to survive fairy tales

[smolandweirdwriter]

Cinderella retelling where the fairy godmother adopts her after her father dies

[amywrites256]

It kind of irritates me that most popular retellings of Snow White and Cinderella are from the perspective of their abusive mother figures/siblings. Especially when the synopsis on Goodreads subtly implies that they made up the abuse for attention or where actually just evil children deserving of being mistreated. I’ve been looking at popular retellings to comp my novel to and almost all of them are trying to make me feel sympathetic towards their abusers and it genuinely triggers me.

[fictionadventurer]

Figured if I was going to go on the Snow White rant, I needed to actually rewatch the Disney movie.

The opening credits are much more interesting when you know some of the names. The only women who got on the list were Dorothy and Hazel, but it was nice to see their names at least and know who they were.

That book is gorgeous. All the details of the calligraphy and illustrations and binding.

Wow, the Queen is so much creepier than I remember. The fact that using the magic mirror involves summoning a "slave" trapped in the mirror? Don't like that.

That peacock behind her throne, though? Stunning, fantastic, no notes.

I kind of love how the Queen forces Snow White to be a maid, and Snow White just...doesn't care at all. She's just scrubbing a floor and totally fine. Queen's obsessed with Snow White every minute of the day and Snow White doesn't think about her at all.

Sorry, I don't buy the romance at all. I know it's a fairy tale, but one song does not a life-changing romance make. (There was a version of the scene where the prince was going to rejoice over the fact that she loved him, which might have been too much, but it at least would have helped sell it.)

The scene of Snow running through the forest and then collapsing in tears did make me feel for her.

It seems like Snow White and the Queen are from a completely different movie from the dwarfs. They've got this whole high fantasy feud going on, meanwhile these guys are living in a sitcom.

The dwarfs were the best part. Forgot how cute those guys could be.

There was not enough story here. 75% of the running time is them trying to stretch this paper-thin story to feature length. There's a big long cleaning sequence. A big long sequence of the dwarfs figuring out who invaded their cottage. A big long introduction sequence. A big long washing-up sequence. Multiple extended gags involving a fly. All fun to animate, I'm sure, but not at all up to modern pacing standards.

(I'd kind of like to compare this to other escapist '30s musicals--is this kind of structure common for movies where the point is just to show up and escape the Depression for 90 minutes?)

As a kid, I had one of those sing-a-long videos with a bunch of Disney songs, and I did not realize that I had a deep emotional connection to it until "Heigh-Ho" made me instantly happy and the Silly Song unearthed memories I didn't even know I had.

A lot of the other songs kind of stink, ngl. There's a reason the washing-up song is not in the public consciousness.

Kind of out-of-line for Snow White to just show up at their house and treat them like misbehaving children.

The skeleton in the dungeon reaching for the water pitcher? Can't believe the movie went there.

(Then they drew too much attention to it and kind of wrecked it. But wow.)

I like that they give a valid reason that the Queen thought True Love's Kiss wasn't going to be a problem.

But the queen cackling over the fact that Snow White's going to be buried alive? When it comes to showing this movie to children, I'm not hesitating about Snow White as a female role model, I'm hesitating because it's dark.

(But also--why not just poison her? I get that living death/buried alive is a worse fate than just plain death, but if she's not actually dead, how does the Queen count as fairest in the land? Especially since she magically made herself as ugly as possible?)

They carved her name in the coffin! Just like the bed! They finally get to make her a bed and it's to lay her to rest! It's almost enough to make me tear up.

The castle in the clouds makes me think of heaven/resurrection imagery, which ties in interestingly to my take on it.

There is so much potential to flesh out this story in a live-action version. Since you can't fill up the runtime with comedy dwarf antics, there's so much space to flesh out the relationship between the prince and Snow White, and give texture to the feud between the Queen and Snow White, and to dig deep into Snow's sweet character and how it affects the dwarfs, which is why it stinks that they're going for just another Not Like Other Girls update.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

For Love of the Princess: A Sleeping Beauty Retelling

The court was leaving. A colorful parade of nobles in richly-embroidered robes, with bright banners flying, were abandoning the palace with the king and queen.

And leaving Princess Aurora behind.

"We've no choice, dear," the queen had told her daughter in tears the evening before. "The whole palace will sleep when the curse falls. We've a duty to our people. We can't abandon the kingdom for a hundred years."

Princess Aurora, who'd been fairy-gifted with grace and compassion, had sweetly said she understood.

Margaret, who had no such gifts, thought the queen deserved to have her eyes pecked out by birds.

All of Aurora's ladies-in-waiting had talked late into the night--had been working over the problem for weeks as Aurora's sixteenth birthday drew ever closer with no chance of averting the curse. They had planned and theorized, but all decided at last that there was only one thing to do. They were, to a woman, going to stay with the princess. A hundred years would pass while they slept. They would wake to a strange world where everyone they knew was dead and gone. But not for all the gold in the kingdom would they abandon Aurora to face such a world alone.

Now they stood together at the palace gate. Anne, the eldest of them, with strands of gray in her hair, who had been lady to the queen before coming to serve the princess. Lydia, younger even than Aurora, fair and tall and full of energy. Celia, little, sweet and copper-haired, only a year older than Aurora. Margaret herself--tallest and most practical, with wisps of golden-brown curls fluttering in the wind. And exactly in the center, Princess Aurora, with her fairy-gifted beauty that outshone the sun itself. Margaret had come to view these girls as sisters, but as they watched the courtiers leave, she suddenly realized they were all the family she was going to have--that any of them were going to have--for the rest of her life.

When the last face, the last horse, the last banner, disappeared over the horizon, all five of the women stepped back inside the palace walls.

And were immediately faced with a problem.

"Which one of us is going to close the gate?" Celia asked, gazing up at the wicked-looking portcullis. None of them had ever touched the winch-and-chain that moved it. Who knew if they'd even have the strength to? Five women staying alone in a castle for a hundred years could not leave the palace gate open for any passing brigand to come through.

With a groan and a rattle, the chain moved, the portcullis lowered, and the metal bars fell to the ground with a bone-rattling thump.

All of the women screamed.

Had the curse come upon them already? Were they to be trapped here for a hundred years, never to escape? Margaret's heart raced--she hadn't realized how suffocating the palace would seem.

A man stepped out of the guardhouse. He wore the livery of the palace guard and had the first whispers of a mustache on his upper lip. He bowed to the princess and her ladies.

"My apologies, ladies," he said, in a baritone that sounded surprisingly deep for one who appeared barely old enough for that facial hair. "I did not intend to startle you."

He looked young and strong of limb. He carried himself with the dignity and grace of a much older man--had something in the eyes that made him seem wiser than his years.

Aurora gave a deep royal nod. "We thank you for your service. If we could know the name of our servant?"

He bowed crisply. "William of Avenroth, your highness."

Aurora gave her sweetest smile. "We are pleased to know you, and we beg your forgiveness for our outburst. We had thought ourselves alone in the palace."

"You are alone, your highness," William said. "Everyone left, save for me."

"You did not wish to escape the curse?"

William bowed again. "I have a duty, your highness, to protect the princess. All other considerations fade before that calling."

"Some would say such devotion goes far beyond duty," the princess said.

Serenely, he said, "Perhaps it does, your highness."

Aurora opened her mouth, then closed it. She bowed her head. "I am grateful for your loyalty, William."

She turned back toward the palace, and her beautiful face was pensive.

As Margaret and the other ladies followed Aurora back toward the palace, Aurora asked, "Ought I to send him away?"

"Send him away?" Anne yelped. "Why?"

Aurora hushed her, looking back over her shoulder. "I can not ask him to risk the curse for my sake."

"You haven't sent any of us away," Lydia pointed out.

"You all know me well," Aurora said. "He barely knows me."

How little Aurora understood her power. She was princess of the realm, fairy gifted, bright and shining. No person who saw her ever forgot her.

"He has served you from his boyhood, highness," Margaret said. "Though you do not know him, he is quite familiar with you."

Anne said, "He chose to stay, just as we did."

"It is not fair," Aurora said, "for all of you to give up your lives because of my curse."

Margaret said, "It's not fair that you were cursed. You did not choose it--but we can choose to love you. Let him make that same choice."

Aurora stopped, tears in her eyes. "Never has a princess had such true friends. I am afraid I can never be grateful enough."

She embraced each of them in turn, all of them caught between laughter and tears. Then she turned back toward the guard and invited him inside for supper.

#

In the Great Hall--now echoing and cavernous in its emptiness--they made a merry birthday supper, rejoicing over the coming of the princess' sixteenth year, and not letting themselves think about the doom that came with it. The king and queen, though not staying to celebrate the day, had left a celebratory meal behind them--roasts and fruit and cakes and punch.

Margaret had been afraid that the guard William would be out of place among them, but he blended in with ease. He was quiet, respectful, courteous, seeming to enjoy being in their presence, not minding being on the outside of their shared jokes. He helped to serve the meal, even brought some of Aurora's favorite treats from the palace stores, pointing out that they would not last the hundred years. Aurora was gracious, and, as the night went on, genuinely warm. She smiled at William with the smile she reserved for her friends, even drew him into private conversation once or twice.

Despite her assurances to Aurora, Margaret couldn't figure out why William stayed. Margaret had noticed him at the palace, had seen him serving with distinction. He was loyal, dutiful, diligent--but a man didn't become the only guard in the entire palace to risk a hundred-year curse out of duty.

It puzzled her, but she had to admit that she was glad for his presence. Having another person there made the world seem not so small.

The next day was a tense one. No spindles had been seen in the palace since the day the princess had been cursed, but curses had a way of making themselves come true. Margaret and all of Aurora's ladies stayed with her, trying to keep up her spirits and keep watch for any stray spinning wheels. William kept watch at the gates, hoping that he could fend off any evil that might try to approach from outside.

The sun was nearly below the horizon when Margaret and the other ladies followed Aurora into her room in the castle's highest tower. They all sat beside the window, watching the sinking sun, waiting for the moment when the day would end and the danger--so long feared--might pass by forever.

The last sliver of sun sank below the horizon, and all the ladies gave a sigh of relief.

"Could it be over?" Celia asked, with suppressed joy.

"Perhaps the king's plans worked," said Lydia.

Margaret could not shake a sense of foreboding. "The sun is gone, but there's still light in the sky."

Anne rose angrily. The shawl she'd been desperately knitting all day fell to the floor. "We've only a few minutes! What more could happen?"

The ladies began to quarrel--everyone's nerves were tight after the tension of the day.

Aurora rose--quietly, gracefully, but her movements attracted every eye. "Girls, let's not quarrel."

She reached beneath her bed to pick up the ball of yarn that had rolled away from Anne's knitting. "Oh!" she said in surprise, drawing her hand back. "I think I found your knitting needle, Anne."

She drew back the ruffle at the base of the bed. Beneath, they saw, not a knitting needle, but the shining, wicked point of a drop spindle.

Aurora fell onto the bed--lost in a deep sleep.

There were tears, gasps, shrieks--but they fell to work. Margaret could already feel sleep pressing down upon her, but she urged the girls to move quickly. They lifted Aurora fully onto the bed, arranged her limbs to lie flat, put pillows under her head, and covered her with blankets. If their beloved princess was to sleep for a hundred years, they could make sure she was comfortable while she did it.

Celia was the first to drop, falling to the floor in a deep swoon. Margaret placed a pillow beneath her head, and then did the same for Anne when she fell asleep at the foot of Aurora's bed. Lydia fell almost on top of Aurora, and Margaret moved her so she was stretched across blankets on the floor.

All this time, Margaret's eyelids drooped, her limbs became heavy, and her head split with yawns. She fought the curse as long as she could, trying to arrange a hundred years' worth of comforts in a few moments. But at last, even her will could not overcome the magic. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, with half her body draped across the foot of Aurora's bed.

Her last thought as she fell into a hundred years of sleep was that she'd have such a backache when she woke.

#

Margaret woke to a world covered in dust. She scraped it off her face, shook it off her hands, brushed it from her dress and hair. Around her, the other ladies were waking with similar ablutions.

Aurora's chairs, wardrobe, dressing table, even Anne's abandoned half-finished shawl, were all covered in dust. The windows were covered with rose bushes, so Margaret couldn't see what a century had wrought upon the world outside. On the bed, the other girls were clearing the dust off of Aurora--but Aurora remained fast asleep.

"I don't understand," Celia said, as the hours dragged by with no sign of Aurora's waking. "We're all awake."

"The hundred years has passed," Margaret said. "But the princess has to be woken by a kiss of true love."

"Where's that supposed to come from?" Anne asked. "Any suitors the princess had will be dead and gone by now."

"Maybe one came from this century," Lydia suggested. "It's possible some brave prince grew up with the stories and came to save the sleeping princess."

That seemed as good a theory as any, so after they'd tended to their ragged old dresses as best they could, Celia sat at Aurora's bedside, and Margaret went into the halls with Anne and Lydia, in the hope they could point some wandering prince in the right direction.

The rest of the palace was as dusty and decayed as Aurora's room. Tapestries were moth-eaten. A kitchen's worth of food had decayed to nothing. Suits of armor were covered in rust.

When they found no princes inside, they decided to head outdoors. With all three of them pulling together, the kitchen door came open with a shriek of rusty hinges.

The doorway was completely blocked by a wall of roses and thorns.

Margaret's throat tightened. They had nothing to break through those branches. They were alone in a palace with no food. If Aurora didn't wake soon, they'd all starve.

Looking at their stricken faces, Margaret could see the other girls were coming to the same conclusion.

Then they heard rustling in the branches. The thick wall showed gaps of sunshine. There were flashes of silver, the sound of a man's groans. At last, the branches parted before a blade, and William burst into the kitchen.

His mustache had darkened a bit over the decades, but he still looked as young and dignified as ever. Though his face and hands were bleeding with a thousand scratches, he bowed with his usual courtesy and a hint of a smile. "Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept as well as I did?"

"What's it like out there?" Margaret asked.

"Overgrown," William replied. "The entire palace is covered in roses--a precaution of the fairies, though I'm not certain whether it came from the good or the bad ones."

William cast his gaze across the room, and suddenly became solemn. "Where is the princess?"

"Still asleep," Lydia said, near tears. "It's awful! There's no one to wake her!"

The look of selfless devastation on William's face made everything clear.

"William," Margaret said. "You love the princess."

This unflappable young man blushed and looked at the ground. "It is not my place--"

"You stayed a hundred years for her! Of course you love her!"

"I could never be her true love. I am only a guard--"

"It's been a hundred years! Some other king rules the kingdom. There's no one alive who'd object. You have to kiss her awake!"

William turned white and his jaw fell. "I could never take such liberties!"

Margaret put her hands on her hips. "Look, if Aurora was drowning, you'd jump in to save her, right? Even if it meant touching her without asking permission."

"Naturally."

"This is no different. If you don't try, Aurora will die."

William thought, then bowed. "I will do what I must to serve the princess."

Margaret seized William's hand and led him toward Aurora's tower.

#

Celia jumped to her feet as they entered the room. Her eyes brightened as she saw the guard.

"William! Have you found the prince?"

Margaret and Lydia pushed William toward the bed. "He's right here," Margaret said.

William stood beside Aurora, looking down into her serene, flawless face. "What if she doesn't welcome such an advance?" he whispered. "How could she care for a man she barely knows?"

Anne said, "Why don't you ask her when she wakes up?"

William bent over Aurora--then stood up. "This might not work."

At once, all four of Aurora's ladies said, "Kiss her!"

Ever so gently, with impossible tenderness, William brushed his lips over Aurora's.

Aurora's eyes opened. "William?" she breathed.

William bowed his head. "Forgive me for taking such liberties, your highness--"

Aurora threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad it's you."

Caught in her embrace, William stood flabbergasted.

"Your highness," he said. "Under the circumstances, I do not expect you to return my affection--"

Aurora pushed him away and looked in his face. "How could I not? You stayed true to me when every other man in the world abandoned me."

"You do not know me."

"I know that you stayed. I have a whole new century to get to know everything else." Aurora sat up on the edge of the bed. "If we decide that marriage suits us, I have plenty of bridesmaids."

#

With laughter, all of Aurora's ladies embraced her in turn, sharing stories about their hundred years of sleep.

Margaret went last, holding Aurora tight.

Aurora said, "I can't thank you enough. All of you, so true. You gave up a whole world for me."

As Margaret looked around the room at Anne laughing over her ruined century-old knitting, at Lydia and Celia teasing William--the women she loved like sisters and a brand-new brother--Margaret felt justified in saying, "If I lost a world, I got a better one in return."

[konglindorm]

Untitled BATB retelling, chapter 2

Mira plays on the floor with her baby brother, and invents for her mother a whirlwind romance with a wealthy suitor from the city. Her mother doesn’t question this highly improbable story; the curse takes more out of her every day.

It came upon her slowly, at first. But Henry’s nearly two now, and it’s had plenty of time to settle.

Henry was christened late. There was no help for it—the only priest in miles was dreadfully ill, and he came as soon as he safely could. But an un-christened baby is a terrible temptation for fairies.

They tried to take him, and leave a changeling. Mama was watching, and she chased them off, but got a scratch on her arm for it.

It won’t heal. The priest and the local witch and the doctor they called in from the city all agree it won’t kill her. It will only trap her deeper and deeper inside herself, until she’s as good as gone. They all agree there’s only one cure, magnificently expensive, only available from a sorcerer in the city who communes with the fairies directly.

Mira doesn’t know how her father will ever afford it. He’s been putting a little by, whenever he can, and they had hoped that maybe Mira’s bride price—but it’s been a hard year. Father has to feed his children before he cures his wife.

She doesn’t think even double her bride price will be enough, after how hard a year it’s been. But the extra can be put away in savings, and maybe in a year or two, when her sister Anna marries—maybe.

Anna, she tells the truth, or most of it. She says, “He’s richer than Ralph, and not so scary, really. I don’t think he’ll hurt me.” Which is true.

She doesn’t say “I’d rather be eaten by a monster than marry Ralph,” or “I all but begged the Beast to take me,” both of which are also true.

In the morning she’ll leave. It isn't much time to say goodbye. But in the afternoon Ralph will come home, and ask officially for her hand, and she wants to be far away by then.

-

Continue the chapter on Patreon, no membership required. Become a free member to access chapter 3 today, one week early!

[rynreads91]

a sorceress comes to call by t. kingfisher

I have honestly never actually read a Brothers Grimm story, but I found this retelling was quite good without the background knowledge! I enjoyed every page and every character so much. The women were kickass, and even the men (Squire aside, sorry dude but you are DENSE). I'm definitely glad to have picked this one up! Now I have to read more by T. Kingfisher, as this was my first one!

[friendrat]

14, please!!

A retelling that twists the plot of the original fairy tale?

So one of my favorite books from last year fits that I think. It's called Song of the Selkies by Sarah Pennington. It's the Little Mermaid, but with Selkies and political intrigue with a dash of mystery, and it's delightful!

Also, not a book but a series, but Kendra Ardnek's Once Upon a Twisted Time twists the plots of the fairy tales really well! They are short stories told from the villain's perspective. I *highly* recommend the Little Red Riding Hood one. It was the first one I read, and I love it!

Finally, The Fairy's Mistake by Gail Carson Levine is from the first collection of retellings I ever read, and it *fascinated* me! It's a retelling of Diamonds and Toads, which has always been one of my favorite fairy tales, and in it the fairy blesses the good sister, and curses the bad one, but the blessing turns out to be a curse when people around the good sister abuse it, and the curse turns out to be a blessing when the bad sister realizes that she can use it to intimidate people into doing whatever she wants them to. The fairy then has to figure out how to fix it. It's honestly a brilliant concept, and where my love of retellings got started.