The Magic of Retellings

Ever read a retold story? Hear a theme or a phrase that reminded you of your childhood? Even if your not sure I garuntee that you have read a retold story because they are everywhere. They're original, always on trend, and will be forever young.

This is why I am talking about it here and now because soon enough I will enter the first chapter of a retelling I wrote myself. But, first, I want to straighten out the myth that folklores and fairy tales are just for kids.

In fact when these genres were overrun by the Grimm Brothers or Vladamir Propp they were made for the adults as warnings, propaganda for their culture and era. Warning villagers to stay away from the woods for there are hungry wolves who will kill you. Stories on rape, murder, love and hardships. All of these were cut out to make them friendly for children and even I hold my Disney versions close to heart.

These genres have been coming back around to Young Adult Books and Adult books as well, books rewritten with little clues to the childhood stories we once knew. For example, A Court of Thornes and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, the Pennies series by Pepper Winters, Heartless by Marrisa Myers. These are all retellings of our favorite stories or movies that were written in a darker corner than the Grimm Brothers and it is worth it.

There is magic in the thousands of retellings that are in different languages, cultures, religions, and creatures. But they all hold adventure, animals, a villain, and a protagonist, magic, and death. There are plenty of other themes to be added on.

I want to rewrite folklore and fairy tales because there is a foundation in each story and some pillars cannot be changed. Yet most of them can and that is the fun part. As a writer, it isn't what you write it is how you write it. What can you add to your retelling that will be recognizable to your reader but a brand new story altogether? That is my goal. Without further ado, here is a short piece of the first chapter of my story. If you can spot the original story, I did something right. If you like what I wrote, press the heart icon.

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My Jimmy Choo shoes made my presence known as I entered my childhood home. It’s been nine years since I’ve been back so of course it looked different but the same distaste of being here was the same. I took a gander at the foyer and it was easy to see the dust particles floating in the sunshine. All the curtains were gone. All my father’s antique furniture had vanished. The pictures, vases, rugs were all missing. The only thing occupying space was the handsome man with chestnut skin that stood in front of the spiraling staircase.

I already knew the name of the man standing before me. Elijah Cross was one of the richest bachelors on the East coast and it was just my luck that he hated my father. I hated him too, but I still made my tone pleasant and clear as I shut the door behind me.

“Hello, I’m Roxanne Tales. Jay Tales is my father and legally this house does not belong to you. So, politely, I’m going to need you to leave.”

It was weird that I found him standing in the foyer of the house, but I had to admit that he got my father good by buying his home. His smooth dark skin was rare in the neighborhood I grew up in. But he looked expensive in his wool V – neck sweater and dark jeans, shiny black shoes, he must fit right in. He bore no jewelry and his face was even more vacant. I was proud that my resolve has not shifted an inch because I find him attractive. I was proud because this man had caused me more trouble than he knew.

“You weren’t with him at our meeting. So, your demands are futile, Ms. Tale.” He spoke smoothly and with finality.

I straighten my stance and go to place my bag and phone on the nearby nightstand. To my right was the large sitting area that was void of happy Christmas and faithful Thanksgivings.

“They aren’t futile at all. You see, this house belongs to my father because he paid for it in full.” Jay Tale loved his mansion and literally nothing else. I tapped my elongated nude nail on the surface of the table and made my voice as saccharine as possible. “Could you live knowing that you’ve taken all an old man has? His legacies prize?”

I made my voice perform as I did when I sold other houses to my clients. Grand ones that most celebrities fought over, and that performing voice made me who I am today. Along with the law degree my father forced me into.

Elijah didn’t even blink. “Yes, I could. Especially when this house is worth less than half what he owes me.”

My finger pauses and I actually study the person I’m talking to. Mogul millionaire, only twenty-six years old and literally answered and bent to no one. Okay, I see. I drop the smile and tone and the professional act.

Elijah catches my shift because I walk away and stand in the entryway of the living room.

“I believe you. This house would seem like a crumb to your impressive empire.”

I made the word impressive sound dirty. “What would you even do with a house like this? I could sell you something better.” I turned back to Elijah who hadn’t moved an inch. “On the east coast or even something closer to home, if you prefer.”

He probably already owns a house, dummy, multiple too. That’s how I knew he could afford it and how I knew he was targeting my father because of it. So, I would appeal to his business side since my small flirting got me nowhere.

“You have me at disadvantage. I do not know you,” he says.

“Maybe that’s a good thing, Mr. Cross. So, what do you say?”

“No.”

I grind my teeth in frustration. “This is all my father has. Have some damn sympathy. Give him his house back. You don’t need it.”

Elijah rolls his neck as if I was the one who had to travel five hours at his father's command to retrieve his lost house that could crumble to the ground and I would keep on living. I knew nothing of their deal and dad didn’t bother to fill me in on anything. So, I really was pulling at strings here.

“What I don’t need is the business promises from duplicitous fathers and their spawn. Now leave.”

“I’m not done. We're not finished here!” My temper slipped and I shut my eyes for a few seconds.

A headache was forming from the lack of sleep and because this was not how this was supposed to go. I didn’t even know what direction I was going anymore. To my surprise, Elijah paused his stride up the stairs.

Quickly, I went to my purse and pulled out my checkbook. “How about some honesty, hmm?” I write an adequate amount on a piece of paper and go to Elijah. I try to ignore it, how this grown man who towered over me seemed to move away from me.

I pause and eyeing him warily, I hand him a check with more money than I spend in a year. “I am truly sorry for the trouble my father caused you, Mr. Cross. I can only give you this for the time being and give you the rest in a month's time.”

I release a sigh of relief when Elijah tentatively takes the check. I would never admit it for being the worst child, but I could not have my dad live with me.

“You apologize for your father and pay for his mistakes?” he asks me with thoughtful distaste.

I straighten at his tone and to let him know I meant business. “Yes, I would.”

Elijah scoffs and then in one hand crumbles the rectangular paper. My throat closes and I gape at this stubborn man. Where did my father meet this guy?

“What your father owes me is beyond currency. It is personal now and only the sentimental will suffice.” He tosses the paper away and places his hands in his pockets. “So, I suggest you leave, Ms. Tale before I call reinforcements.” He gives a dismissive motion and takes two steps up.

I knew when I had nothing to lose and, at this moment, I am lost. I falter and fight the urge to hug the checkbook, my savior on most days. “But he has nothing. Nothing but this old mansion. And me.”

Elijah once again stops, turns to me and says. “You seem insistent on getting the house back and I am willing to give you on one condition only.” Elijah motions to the empty but grand foyer and waits for me to bite his bait. I roll my eyes to mask the sudden fear I felt at failing.

“What would that be?” I ask. That is when Elijah smiled a beastly smile as if he was waiting for this exact moment. To catch me in his claws and place me where he wanted.

“It’s quite simple, Ms. Tale.” He descended the few steps and into my space until I felt invaded. When I look up into the hazel eyes that seemed to calculate my every move and word, I should have noticed the look of cold observation. Not to do good but to hurt others, just like dear old dad.

“My enemy's daughter must agree to be my fiancé for three months. Then and only then will I return your precious father’s home to him.” His smirk widened as his manicured hand reached out.

“Do we have a deal?”