Kate Forsyth

May my heart be kind, my mind fierce, and my spirit brave.

I think fantasy is best described as a kind of fiction that evokes wonder, mystery or magic, a sense of possibility beyond the ordinary world in which we live, and yet which reflects and comments upon that known world.

To light a candle is to cast a shadow,The world is a cruel place, Petrosinella, and it wounds the weak.

Words. I had always loved them. I collected them, like I had collected pretty stones as a child.

Stories are important too. Stories help make sense of things. They make you believe you can do things. They help you imagine that things may be different, that if you just have enough courage. . . or faith. . . or goodness. . . you can change things for the better.

Each word was shaped with certainty, and I felt, more strongly than ever before in my life, that I had at last found my true path. I knew the story would change as I told it. No one can tell as tory without transforming it in some way; it is part of the magic of storytelling. Like the troubadors of the past, who hid their messages in poems, songs and fairy tales, I too would hide my true purpose [ … ] It was by telling stories that I would save myself.

If you are brave of heart, sharp of wit, strong of spirit and steadfast of purpose, there is nothing you cannot achieve, I also know that not everyone will like what I do, and that there are many people who do love my work, and so I write for them, and for my own pleasure, and try not to brood too much over those who have different tastes. And I have written enough books now that I know the self-doubt and the anxiety are part of the creative process, and drive me to keep trying to do better, and keep me from becoming too cocksure about my writing, which is a form of creative death.

It was our passion for words and our ardent desire to write that drew me and Michael together, and the same that drove us apart. Michael wanted to be a great playwright, like the former master Molière. He had high ambitions and scorned what I wrote as frivolous and feminine. ‘All these disguises and duels and abductions,’ he said contemptuously, one day a year or so after our affair began, slapping down the pile of paper covered with my sprawling handwriting. ‘All these desperate love affairs. And you wish me to take you seriously. ’‘I like disguises and duels. ’ I sat bolt upright on the edge of my bed. ‘Better than those dreary boring plays you write. At least something happens in my stories. ’‘At least my plays are about something. ’‘My stories are about something too. Just because they aren’t boring doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy. ’‘What are they about? Love’ He clasped his hands together near his ear and fluttered his eyelashes. ’‘Yes, love. What’s wrong with writing about love? Everyone longs for love. ’‘Aren’t there enough love stories in the world without adding to them?‘Isn’t there enough misery and tragedy?’Michael snorted with contempt. ‘What’s wrong with wanting to be happy?‘It’s sugary and sentimental. ’‘Sugary? I’m not sugary. ’ I was so angry that I hurled my shoes at his head.

I love fairy tales because of their haunting beauty and magical strangeness. They are set in worlds where anything can happen. Frogs can be kings, a thicket of brambles can hide a castle where a royal court has lain asleep for a hundred years, a boy can outwit a giant, and a girl can break a curse with nothing but her courage and steadfastness. .