A very particular type of story
One of the first stories I fell in love with was Beauty and the Beast. I’ve loved it for so long I can’t even remember anymore exactly what it was that made me love it so. This was before the Disney movie, so I don’t have the easy reason of “I wanted that library.” If I had to guess, I think maybe some of it was that the castle itself responded to Beauty – that it gave her what she wanted, that it seemed like a good kind of haunted house. That’s certainly a theme that I’ve continued to pull on in my own writing, so it seems as possible an answer as any other.
When I say I fell in love with the story, part of what I mean is, I read every version of it I could find. Every illustrated children’s book my library had, every retelling in every fairy tale collection, every novelization. I watched tv shows and films. I collected the story, because even though I knew what would happen, I wanted to see how, exactly, it happened this time. Even when it was the same, I loved watching it unfold, and when there was something new and wonderful, that was a joy.
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