storyfires

My daughter's History teacher goes on a class-long rampage if a student mentions the word "Twilight." Not because she thinks the last book is somewhat sexually explicit for 13-year-olds, or because the romance is a tad over the top. She thinks Edward is "too perfect," which gives kids "an unrealistic view of the world." My daughter rolls her eyes as she tells me this. Er, by the way, did we forget Edward is a vampire? He sucks blood for dinner. Craves his girlfriend's blood. But no, the story isn't realistic. The genre is called Fantasy. Definitely not History. Sigh. Another fantasy-basher. I couldn't help thinking about the anti-fantasy proselyters that came to my door a couple of years ago. And since I'm still trying to finish up my novel to send off by the end of the month, I thought I'd rerun this post. *                    *         ...

Sorry about the long gap between posts. I've been on vacation for a week. I traded 30-degree weather and avalanches for 75 degrees and earthquakes. I sat on the beach and watched waves, smelled salt, read four books and started a fifth. I went to an aquarium and saw sharks and sea-horses. I ran barefoot in the sand. I got wet in sea-water. And now I'm ready to get back to my Utah spring and back to my writing. Which reminds me of something: Fantasy-writers can't write, somebody once told me. They don't care about quality. "And, by the way," she said, "Harry Potter's crap." One guy I know snorted at the suggestion that Lord of the Rings books might be fine literature. Me: "Have you ever read them?" Him: "I can't remember." Me: "Really?" Him: "Um, probably not." Another guy: "They're just fantasy. Fantasy is escapism. People should face life, not run off and pretend to fight drag...

Here's a real-life story for a Friday afternoon. Once upon an actual Sunday morning, not too many months ago, a couple of lovely, polite, and very earnest people knocked on my door, Bible in hand. Earnest Woman: "We're worried about the disturbing trend of children's books about witches and wizards and magic." Me: (blink) Earnest Woman: "I see you have children, I'm sure you're concerned about their well-being?" Me: "Mmmm." Earnest Man: "We'd like to read you a verse from the Bible about the dangers of witchcraft, if you don't mind." Me: "Mmmm." Whereupon they proceeded to read a verse where Paul warns against seeking out witches and wizards who "peep and mutter." These people were so earnest, and really nice, I didn't have the heart to tell them that I, myself, had written two books about witches and magic. I didn't want to horrify them. I also didn't have time--I wo...

I write because I must. I can't stop. Part of that is purely practical and selfish. Writing keeps me from taking the stacks of prescription drugs any psychologist would happily prescribe if I admitted everything that's wrong with me. I can write myself out of a depression and into a place of possibility. I like being in my writing cave. Personal therapy aside, I write for children because I believe in that unknown delight just around the corner, behind the next bush...and I believe in sharing delight when you find it. And because I need to feel a childlike hope that the world holds potential for good, when the horror of real life seems too big. I believe all children need that. Big people, too, if they would admit it. Which is one of the reasons I love fantasy, that most symbolic of genres. Fantasy is not escape, it's distance on reality, a chance to step back and see what's possible, without getting sucked into the boredom and bleakness of grown-up views on wh...