Good gravy, but the whole point of coming up with this kind of blog was to talk about myself less, not more. Still, you can't be too careful. Bilbo Baggins used to say, "It's a dangerous place, outside your front door..."
Q: Ok, I'll bite. Who are you, and where are you from?
I'm a bookwormy daydreamer with a handful of full-length manuscripts waiting for the world to be ready for their publication, and I hail from a small town just outside of Charleston, South Carolina.
Q: And that qualifies you to write curricula on fairy tales?
Well, no, that would be a combination of the college degree (in literature, with double minors in computer programming and education) and the abiding affection for a good story. I was once homeschooled--like many of my intended readers--and loved it. Fairy tales weren't part of that education, but I had the freedom to read them as long as I was wise about which ones I read.
Q: So you admit there are bad fairy tales, and they're a waste of our time?
Not at all. There are bad storytellers, and bad people who will twist a story to suit their wicked aims. A good story can be broken into all the wrong bits just as easily as a poorly-conceived idea can be made into a pop culture icon (no names). That's where creative marketing comes into play. If you're going to throw away a story away--be it large or small--you should know why. Don't throw away a story just because someone has told it in times past. Throw it away because you have "sucked the marrow" from it and can apply all those lessons to bigger and better tales.
Q: But they're for little kids.
First, that's not a question.
Second, fairy tales are pocket-sized. They fold up neatly until you need them again--and then look at all the layers of subtext and value that come pouring out. What offerings they give that you keep depend largely on what you are looking for and what you pay attention to. There is a wonderful story about two old friends, Truth and Parable. Truth could never get anyone to listen to him, so he sat down beside Parable one day and asked, "Why does everyone want to listen to you, and not me?" Parable said, "Because you're naked, my friend, and it scares them. They feel safe with my fine but sturdy traveling clothes." "Wish I had some," grumbled Truth. Parable smiled and held out his cloak, saying, "Borrow mine. Come along with me, and people can listen to both of us." To this day, many people have trouble telling the old friends apart, because they still share the same wardrobe as they travel together.
Q: That's fairy tales, fantasy, parables, and daydreams, all mixed up. Are you into hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo, then?
Ah, that would be another resounding "no." I have a long-standing, very permanent relationship with Jesus Christ. This relationship defines me and the way I understand the world. I love to talk about Him and have learned to be ready, in season and out of season, to defend the hope I have in Him. As I want this to be a chance for you to learn instead of me to cram my opinions down your throat, I can (and often will) look at a story through His eyes to understand what is good and what is not. Whether or not you do the same is entirely up to you.
Q: So what if I don't, then?
A good story is still a good story. A great story is made when truth and passion collaborate. I will, on occasion, reference parts of the greatest story I know. But I will do this as a student of story, not as a preacher. I'm good friends with the author, and he assures me he can handle questions.