On Fairy Tales

I never quite believed in fairy tales; not the Disney-fied versions that we're familiar with, anyways. I was never that fond of princes, even when I fancied myself a princess, and kisses don't signify a "Happily Ever After."

Yet, the language of fairy tales saturates my writing. I am fascinated by them - by their fallacies. After all, frogs are only ever frogs, and princes tend to be rarefied. Knights (apart from not officially existing in America) don't ride horses, and if they wear armor, it isn't shiny, but made of Kevlar. While some women may be trapped in figurative ivory towers, they usually want to stay there, and aren't worth the rescue at any rate.

But fairy tales have endured. There's a reason that we (and I) continue to use them and allude to them.

We want to believe in their intrinsic truths.

Fairy tales teach that love can transform people, that being kind to down-on-their-luck strangers pays off, that there is something good in everyone, that true love lasts, that the underdog can prevail, that there is always a way out of any bad situation, and (most importantly) that love stories can have happy endings, not ending at all.

Maybe I do believe in fairy tales.