Fairy Tale Variants: Always Welcome Here!

 Anyone who has attempted (seriously) to write picture books for children will have heard some supposedly reliable advice: don't attempt to write fairy tales and folk tales, even ones with a "twist". Publishers will NOT be interested. 

That's certainly NOT the case, since you can see many fine examples of this genre in this review/post on the blog BOOK RIOT from just a few months back. Each publishing year such notable efforts break through that false advice and land in welcoming hands. If you are a fan of such stories, be sure to check out these excellent recommendations. If you are a writer who has abandoned such manuscripts due to the  discouraging words of warning, read that post. Then read the books.You'll find ample material to study to consider why she make it and some don't.

What makes such published and praised fairy tale/folk tale twists stand out is that they are superbly done. They bring the best of writing to the challenge, offering enough of the original references to invite comparison, add humor, provide wry insights, or introduce other layers of meaning to consider. They are written to provide new views on the characters, the problems, the range of audiences, the identities or cultures of the stars, or even to flip the typical "moral of the story" on its head-- or on its bum.

Anne Schwartz Books, 2023

One recent picture book that achieves many of those benchmarks is CINDERELLA AND THE MOUSE CALLED FRED, written by Deborah Hopkinson and illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky.

The twist here is that Cinderella is an avid gardener who meets a mouse with kind and curious eyes. She calls the mouse Fred, and advises on ways for him to stay safe from the mean step-family and the housesat. Fred is smitten and devoted. Ella (as she prefers to be called) is tending to a prize pumpkin intended to win a blue ribbon at the end of the season. Ella asks Fred to help nurture and protect it.

The sudden appearance of the fairy godmother (see cover image) adds that comic element, and provides wild transformations of that pumpkin into a carriage and Fred into a horse. Quickly, the fairy godmother decks out Ella in an elaborate dress and glass (GLASS!) slippers, sending her to the ball as the driver of her own carriage. 

You can tell that familiar elements have been shifted to reveal a more complex personality for Ella, a more cognizant and opinionated role for mouse, with a thorough lack of traditional angst about falling in love or impressing Prince Charming. When that inevitable final chime at midnight ruptures the pumpkin and lands Ella on her un-bustled bum, she knowingly collects the seeds from that robust pumpkin for future planting. When the prince and entourage arrive to test that single glass slipper on the step-relatives, humor and exaggeration of their struggle burst from the page in images and effective commentary by Ella- "I'll find my own destiny, thank you!" 

The story line invites comparisons to the original plot, the characters, the goals, and the conclusions. At the risk of spoiling the final twist a bit, it is a happy ending involving a gardening contest and a soulmate who is most definitely NOT a prince. This is a delightful offering in storytelling, both in text and through visual narratives. It's a modernization and variant that works for any age. 

Dodd, Mead. 1981

Each of these elements provide mentor examples for those developing stories of their own. There is one aspect of this delightful book that can't be replicated, though, and that's the combined prestigious talents and name-recognition of its creators. Hopkinson is widely admired for nonfiction, kid-friendly boigraphies as well as her praised/starred picture book fiction. I featured some her other works posts HERE, HERE, and HERE. 

Anyone who has read prior posts on this blog will be aware that I am a longtime fan of Paul O. Zedlinsky's work. I'm not alone, of course, in that admiration. Zelinsky is a Caldecott Medal winner with multiple Caldecott Honors, among countless other awards. One of his earliest picture books is among my favorites: The Maid, The Mouse, and the Odd-Shaped House.

I treasure my signed copy of this out-of-print picture book. The moment I viewed the cover of the current CINDERELLA release I recognized the influence of the style Zelinsky displayed in "The Maid..." that guided these wonderful new illustrations. That was certainly not for lack of alternatives, since his various successes demonstrate mastery of a wide range of art approaches and techniques.  See examples in some links to prior posts I've shared about his work, HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE, or type his name in the search box on the right menu bar.

Whether you click and check those earlier references or the recent one at the top, or not, please consider reading this delightfully fresh and appealing take on a traditional fairy tale. I believe you'll have fun with it and think of plenty of kids to share it with... soon.

Unsung Women... and Titles

All across the blogosphere and print publications the celebration of Women’s History Month is well underway. Engaging posts feature important and worthy picture book titles about women who have made contributions to the course of history. Many of these are recent releases and attention allows these titles to find readers- and fans.

This week I’ll use some older titles to call attention to some unsung, often anonymous women and girls who helped to build this country. These heroines bore the many burdens of expansion and homesteading with strength and courage, but not without fear and suffering. Their names are unsung because the roles they played were so unremarkable, so typical, yet no less heroic.

Sketchy details about real women, sometimes family ancestors, are often the prototypes for historical fiction. Stories based on these family retellings and supported by extensive research generate wholly authentic tales that deserve to be told, offering admirable icons of everyday women.

Ann Turner’s DAKOTA DUGOUT uses only 126 words and Ronald Himler’s richly detailed line drawings to trace one such woman’s prairie years from the days of her soggy sodhouse, blizzard devastation, and searing crop destruction to her eventual life in a clean clapboard home in a thriving community. Each of Turner’s 126 words is precious, especially the final eight: “Sometimes the things we start with are best.”

Eve Bunting, a notable woman of history herself, brings us DANDELIONS, illustrated by Ronald Himler. In this case a young girl tells her version of the struggling, often miserable first year in a sod home on the prairie, desperately transplanting a stray dandelion on their roof. The only hint of time passing occurs on the final page with a view of sprawling dandelions.

These are terrific books to pair with the 2012 middle grade release, MAY B. by Caroline Starr Rose. At 225 pages, this, too, is a fairly easy read with few words per page. The story in verse relates not only preteen May B.’s life-or death challenges but also reveals that not all prairie wives withstood the stresses of soddy life.

In each case the simplicity of the words require the reader to engage deeply with ideas and the realities of a ruthless time in our history, weighing the costs and consequences, considering what their own choices might have been.

A humorous but equally revealing tale is APPLES TO OREGON: BEING THE (SLIGHTLY) TRUE NARRARIVE OF HOW A BRAVE PIONEER FATHER BROUGHT APPLES. PEACHES. PEARS. PLUMS. GRAPES, AND CHERRIES (AND CHILDREN) ACROSS THE PLAINS. Deborah Hopkinson’s text and Nancy Carpenter’s illustrations invite repeated readings , raise questions, and encourage further research. Young Delicious (yes, she was named for the apple) is no less courageous because of her age and stands proudly in the ranks of women who shaped America.

Among many other earlier titles, don’t miss THE PRAIRIE TRAIN, written by Antoine O’Flatharta, illustrated by Eric Rohmann. It’s a wild and rollicking view of the impact of railroads in the settlement of the west. Rail passage brought access to supplies, but it also provided the woman and child power needed to make homesteads into homes in that exhausting, demanding new world.

The comparative value of children, not to mention of boys versus girls, is depicted in TRAIN TO SOMEWHERE, also by Eve Bunting, illustrated (once again) by Ronald Himler. Based on true stories of children transported by train from east coast orphanages to stops along the route, they would line up at each station to be selected (or passed over) by locals as needed. Newspapers advertised their scheduled arrival and, quite naturally, able-bodied lads were the first to find homes. In fact, though, these often proved to be little more than unpaid slave markets.

One final reminder, here, of the series of picture books, illustrated by Wisconsin’s own Renee Graef, which introduces younger readers to Laura Ingalls Wilder. MY FIRST LITTLE HOUSE SERIES, including A LITTLE PRAIRIE HOUSE, reveals the humor and challenges of families moving to the outer edges of our land.



Speaking of word counts, I’ve far exceeded a reasonable number of words here, but the potential for titles, links, and tributes goes on and on. The collection sited above includes Caldecott illustrators, Newberry notables, and more starred reviews than you can shake a cornstalk at. So, just as we can search out the everyday heroic women of past and present, I urge you to read, share, and celebrate the books already on our library shelves.

***I hope you’ll also check the links to these authors and illustrators- notables one and all.