Welcome to Conversations with Fairy Whisperers, Kate! I have been following your work throughout the years since I first picked up one of your books, and it’s exciting to have you as our guest today. Tell us about yourself, how did you become a writer?

Thank you for having me! I’m honored to be here.

I didn’t really intend to become a writer. I started when I was 13, but as a form of escape. I’d been an avid reader, and the desire to create my own stories formed naturally from that. However, I also carried a lot of social trauma. So, the solitude of story-crafting formed a safe refuge when I became too overwhelmed or anxious throughout my teenaged years. I did it in private without any expectations of ever sharing my work.

It took me over a decade to even complete a first draft. By then I’d also collected a couple of English degrees. At that point, I figured, why not give writing a year or two in earnest? And I just never quit. Basically, I eased into this profession inch by inch until I was too far immersed to retreat.

Your author bibliography lists a varied assortment of books in which retellings stand out. Of all the styles and formats retellings come in—pictorial, screen, graphic, illustrated, or written—which do you most favour as an author and as a reader?

I’m a sucker for variation, and the written word seems to offer the most options in that regard. Even though I loved animated and live-action retellings earlier in my life, if I’m in the mood for a retelling nowadays, I’m searching novels rather than any other medium. However, I do love to put different retellings of the same tale side by side, all different styles and formats welcome. The more variety, the better.

If my maths are correct, you have published five fairy tale retellings to date: of Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, King Thrushbeard twice, and two obscure folktales. What fascinates you about fairy tales and how did you start writing retellings of them?

Fairy tales have a built-in cultural appeal. They contain distilled motifs and messages, which transfer readily to more developed stories. That in turn creates an excellent laboratory for learning story-craft. So, with the exception of Goldmayne, my fairy tale retellings have all been kind of academic in nature. They were exercises for me to write within specific boundaries and to explore well-known story beats from different angles.

I’ve experimented with Point of View (Brine and Bone, “The Little Mermaid” told from the perspective of “the other woman”), in medias res storytelling, (Soot and Slipper, “Cinderella” starting with news of the royal ball instead of backstory on her family situation), and character motivations (Maid and Minstrel, “King Thrushbeard” but justifying why the haughty princess might insult all her suitors).

In each of these, the source tale provides structure while allowing space for creativity.

As for my “King Thrushbeard” period, in addition to Maid and Minstrel and The Beggar Prince, I also have a third, Thrushbeard, that’s a perma-free urban fantasy novelette (link: https://BookHip.com/SLFDGFG). When I wrote Maid and Minstrel, I wasn’t entirely happy with the outcome. I’d focused so much on justifying my princess that I felt like I lost some of the original tale’s appeal. So, I ported it into a UF setting and let my protagonist be genuinely critical instead of defensively lashing out. Then I had an opportunity to write it again, but from the male’s perspective instead in The Beggar Prince.

Each iteration retains pieces of the original tale but has its unique angles as well—kind of like when an artist paints the same scene at different times of day to study how light and shadows fall. (e.g., Claude Monet; I particularly adore his Cathedral at Rouen series. My “Thrushbeard” retellings represent a similar exercise, but in words instead of paint.)

I love your description of fairy tales as laboratories for storycraft! Do you have a favourite fairy tale? What aspects of it appeal to you personally, and why?

My favorite fairy tale is the pair “Scurvyhead” and “Sir Goldenhair” from an obscure collection called The Golden Phoenix and Other Tales. I love the practical-minded main character, Petit Jean, his sassy talking horse, and the adventures they tumble into together. It’s such a fun underdog-hero story, with classic fairy tale vibes but enough uniqueness to feed my aforementioned desire for variation.

Which is why, when I used it as my inspiration for Goldmayne, it got the full-length novel treatment instead of being a short-novel/novella length. I wanted to shine a bright light on a little known but precious corner of folklore.

You also have written at least two retellings of Classics, Beowulf and The Blue Castle. What motivated you to write “The Legendary Inge” and “Deathmark”? And is there a difference in writing or researching for a retelling of a fairy tale and one of a Classic?

My motivation for those two titles stemmed from love of the original sources. The Blue Castle is one of my favorites from L.M. Montgomery, but it’s lesser known in her canon. As for Beowulf, I didn’t originally like it but had to translate it for one of my grad school courses and fell in love during that process. In both cases, I wanted to pay homage to stories that helped shaped my love of literature.

For me, Classics occupy a different cultural space than fairy tales, so their retellings feel different during my creative process. There’s only one source instead of a dozen variations, and it’s more developed, particularly with regards to Character and Dialogue. I tend to focus more on which themes to extract and how to polish them rather than on how to hit story elements beat by beat.

As such, my Classic “retellings” have fewer similarities to their inspirations than my fairy tales. While The Legendary Inge was inspired by Beowulf and Deathmark was inspired by The Blue Castle, I don’t consider them true retellings. Instead, their sources lent me a framework and/or themes that acted as a springboard into new narrative territory.

And theoretically, fairy tales can do the same thing; I just haven’t used them that way. When I’m rewriting a fairy tale, my approach is from a structural/story beat angle, whereas when I use a Classic as inspiration, it’s more like “this, but fantasy” (Beowulf, but fantasy; The Blue Castle, but fantasy), and the “but fantasy” part generally takes over, with echoes of the Classic scattered across the text.

In your opinion, what makes a retelling stand out? What do you consider the joys and challenges of writing in this specific subgenre?

This is such an interesting question. For me, successful retellings either honor or elevate the themes of the original source. I guess that’s a pretty subjective metric. When you’re retelling a story, though, it’s not wholly yours. It wouldn’t exist without its source material, and it comes with a built-in audience that demands respect. Retellings that stand out are able to build on the bones of the original story, adding new perspectives or depths without trampling over beloved elements.

The joys and challenges are two sides of the same coin. It’s challenging to reframe a tale everyone knows, but so satisfying when you find the right angle of approach. Stories worth retelling generally hold insight into the human experience, so the act of reinvention naturally broadens my understanding of other people and of the world I live in. When all the pieces come together, it’s extremely fulfilling.

Excellent point about the success of retellings being tied to respect and elevation of a tale’s themes, it’s something I always harp on her. And on that note, what fairy tale would you say is the most complicated to reinvent, and why?

This might be controversial, but I’m going to say “Cinderella.” It’s been written and rewritten so many times that sincere retellings can feel stale by default, but the more “inventive” ones can feel contrived. To further complicate things, it’s an archetype story (rags to riches), which means it can also act as a structural trope for non-retellings. Because it’s been examined and reproduced from so many angles already—and through so many different media—reinvention is a monumental task. The field has been picked over, which leaves temptation to bring in grain from elsewhere.

Granted, if someone portrays Cinderella as a housemaid by day and a master-thief-assassin by night, I’ll still read it. It’s difficult to keep the story’s integrity under such drastic settings, though, and that integrity is what makes the original tale—or any original fairy tale—so special.

You’re the second author I’ve interviewed that chooses Cinderella, a surprising choice for sure. As for Classics that are difficult to reinvent or modernise, is there one that that you’ve been intrigued by but that you find intimidating to retell?

Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo. I love a good revenge story and would love to pull this one into a fantasy setting, but it has so many threads going on, plus the expectations of the book audience vs. the various film audiences. I do find it too intimidating to attempt, but maybe someday I’ll work up the courage.

You recently published Yes, Your Serpentine Excellency, a comedic Georgette Heyer-reminiscent Fantasy of Manners that is thematically like “Beauty and the Beast,” although it’s not meant as a retelling of the tale. How did you come across the idea for this story, and what can you tell us about its creative process?

It started from a pitch to use the Forced Proximity trope and developed from there. I imagined a hero who was cursed but didn’t mind, and a heroine who was fearless and thus bored with her life. This led me to develop the magic system, then the setting and supporting characters, then the necessary plot.

I’m an intuitive writer, so my creative process doesn’t come in a set pattern other than to pay attention when inspiration strikes. For this book, that happened over a period of roughly two years, with the bulk of my drafting in the last couple of months before completion. I was struggling with burnout when I started, though, and some of my narrative choices are a reflection of that. Instead of worrying about whether an audience existed for this odd book I was crafting, I wrote something I wanted to read.

I’m so glad others have enjoyed it too!

My co-host and myself are dragon fangirls here on Pawn to Player, as are many of our readers. We love all the dragon tropes! Serpentine Excellency made me curious about your thoughts on mythical beasts, do you have a favourite fantastical creature?

I love the different chimera types: griffons, unicorns, etc. If it’s a mishmash of multiple animal parts, I’m fascinated. My one exception is if human faces are involved. Not a fan of manticores, not a huge mermaid or centaur aficionado, and I can take or leave the sphynx but love the animal-headed members of the Egyptian pantheon. Not sure what that says about me, other than that I don’t want my monsters to express human emotions.

(This is why the mermaids from Brine and Bone are more angler-fish looking without their glamours, by the way.)

On the matter of tropes, you have a lovely descriptive tagline: “Handcrafted Fantasy Made from the Finest Tropes.” How do you decide which tropes or archetypes to twist and which to use as they are?

It’s not exactly a conscious decision. Mostly, I’m just looking for an interesting angle to use any given trope. Some tropes are fun just as they are, while others become more interesting when they flout expectations. Sometimes, they’re just asking for a twist.

For example, “forced proximity” usually involves tension between the two parties: they don’t want to be together, either because of dislike or embarrassment, so the trope causes narrative friction. And it’s a fun trope as-is! But I’d already used it that way in Guardian of Ruses. So in Yes, Your Serpentine Excellency, the two parties don’t mind being together (a twist), which means the tension has to come from somewhere else.

This really ties back to my love of variation. I struggle with a fear of accidentally writing the same story over and over. As a result, I naturally look for narrative opportunities to veer into the weeds. If I use a trope or archetype straight in one book, I’m more likely to twist it in another.

I would say you’re unlikely to fall into that trap, seeing as you wrote two books that are hard to fit into a genre. Both “Namesake” and “The Heir and the Spare” feel as though they exist in a genre somewhere in-between Fairy Tale and Fantasy, with elements from both yet still a different type of story. Our first interviewee here, Beka Gremikova (a big fan of yours, she tells me) also writes like this and calls it Folkloric Fantasy. Is there a particular approach that created the atmosphere of Folkloric Fantasy when you were writing these books that separates them from your traditional retellings?

I like the term “Folkloric Fantasy.” It’s not something I’ve really considered before, but I hope it catches in popularity. Props to Beka for coining it!

I’ve always just tossed these two books in my “original stories” bin. Namesake is a portal fantasy and The Heir and the Spare is technically a thriller in a fantasy setting. They’re both outliers in my catalogue, for different reasons. (That being said, most of my books are outliers from one another. I write what intrigues me in the moment, and it seems I have the creative attention span of a caffeinated hummingbird.)

I don’t recall a particular approach in crafting these two books. In fact, their writing processes were vastly different. Namesake was a struggle, with so much second-guessing and revision, whereas The Heir and the Spare went from idea to publication in 6 months (one of its outlier qualities). However, when I write original stories, I do feel a heavier burden with regards to the story-craft, because the reader won’t have a built-in touchpoint like they do with retellings. In general, I ascribe to minimalist world-building, but I feel like this is most apparent in my original work. I let my readers fill in a lot more gaps than they probably realize they’re filling in, and that might contribute to the Folkloric Fantasy atmosphere.

It’s not that I put it there, but that the Reader is adding it based on a degree of shared humanity/culture.

Do you ever yourself writing an original fairy tale as opposed to a retelling of one?

No. The task itself is daunting, but I’m also not drawn to the Panoramic Method-style storytelling that most fairy tales use. I’m happy writing novels instead.

If there was a Hall of Fame for retold fairy tales, which would you consider the best retold stories and why are they worthy of inclusion in said Hall of Fame?

Beauty by Robin McKinley; this is the first retelling I can remember reading, and it sets a high standard not only for “Beauty and the Beast” interpretations, but for fairy tale retellings in general.

Ever After (1998); this film is my favorite “Cinderella” retelling, a fun and sincere interpretation.

Is there an author or authors who make you think “I wish I could write like that”?

I love Diana Wynne Jones and Jonathan Stroud. They both have such evocative prose, and they’re willing to entangle their characters in dangerous and/or complicated situations. I sometimes worry that I coddle mine too much, haha.

One writing characteristic of yours is your sense of humour that shines in your blogging, your talks, and your writing. In transferring this sense of comedy and absurdity into your stories, how do you balance humour with high stakes plots?

In my view, humor seasons high stakes really well. So, I like to insert levity as a sort of pressure release when the story gets too intense. I will admit, though: this happens in part because I have trouble taking myself seriously. When my writing turns grim, my first instinct is to crack a joke.

And it’s not that I’m trying to be funny, but that humor is part of humanity. Even a one-line quip can add dimension to an otherwise flat scene or prevent a serious moment from becoming overwrought. It’s a potent way for characters to connect at high-stress moments, and ultimately, a good story revolves around those connections.

Authors often say that having to pick a favourite book amongst their literary output is like making them choose a favourite child, so I apologise for Sophie’s Choice-ing you with this question to wrap up our interesting talk. Do you have a favourite story that you have written? Or one that holds more sentimental value to you than the rest?

The Legendary Inge has perhaps the most sentimental value. It’s a small homage to my Swedish grandmother, so it’s populated with nods to that heritage, including some little details that only people in my family would catch.

As for a favorite, I’m always seeking the shiny, new idea. By the time my books are published, I’ve spent so many hours with them that they’ve dulled to my senses. I do love most of my work, but I could identify my problem children easier than picking which one I most prefer. (I won’t, but I could.)

Thank you for this enjoyable conversation, Kate! We will be keeping an eye on all and every one of your future books, as always.

This was fun! Thank you so much!

Welcome to Conversations with Fairy Whisperers, Michelle! Glad to have you here in our space dedicated to connecting the fairy tale retellings readership with the creators of the stories they love. Tell us about yourself, what fascinates you about fairy tales and how did you begin writing retellings of them?

Hi! Thanks so much for having me! I like to call myself an empress with a war map in one hand and a romance vow in the other. I write Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and Young Adult adventures where magic crackles, danger prowls, and love never backs down.

I’d wanted to write fairy tales for years, but the timing finally clicked when I was wrapping up a dark, dangerous five-book series full of angels, demons, and a whole lot of chaos. I was ready to turn toward something lighter, sweeter, and more romantic. Then one day my cover artist posted a gorgeous premade cover of a girl in a red gown, and my brain immediately said: Cinderella. At Christmas. That idea became Once Upon a Midnight Clear.

From there, things escalated in the best possible way. She kept posting stunning covers, I kept buying them, and before I knew it, I was building an entire fairy tale world. I started researching the old tales, deciding what pieces to keep, what to reinvent, and how to give them a fresh twist of my own. I also created the Aunt Hilde and Marigold framework because, to me, fairy tales should feel told—passed down like something half magical and half true. That storytelling thread became the heartbeat of the Enchanted Realms series.

Of all the styles and formats retellings come in—pictorial, screen, graphic, illustrated, or written—which do you most favour?

Oh, that’s such a great question. I grew up on Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty—the Disney versions—so those will always be my first fairy tale loves. They were my gateway into that world of magic, wonder, romance, and happily ever after. But as I got older and started actively looking for fairy tale retellings, I found myself drawn to novels. I read a lot of them then, and I still do now. There’s just something about seeing a familiar tale expanded into a full story with deeper emotion, richer worldbuilding, and a fresh twist that I absolutely love. So these days, novels are definitely my favorite form of retelling.

Also, a little side note that will absolutely date me: before DVDs, there were LaserDiscs, and I had Beauty and the Beast on LD. I wore that thing out. It was so gorgeous—so crisp and vivid in a way VHS just could not touch. I was completely enchanted by it. Honestly, that probably tells you everything you need to know about me.

It definitely does, your love for fairy tales shines through so brightly whenever you talk about the topic! And you have several retellings published for different fairy tales by now. Do you have a favourite fairy tale? What aspects of it appeal to you personally, and why?

Oh, this is such a hard question, because every fairy tale holds its own kind of magic for me. Cinderella has the glass slippers, the ball gown, and that one enchanted night where everything changes. Sleeping Beauty has the romance of a destiny she doesn’t even know is waiting for her. Snow White carries that bittersweet mix of innocence, danger, and grace—she’s hated for no reason at all, and yet she remains kind and lovely anyway. Those were some of the core stories that first captured my imagination, and they’ve stayed with me ever since.

What appeals to me most, though, is that at the heart of all of them is hope. No matter how dark the forest gets, no matter how cruel the obstacle or how impossible the odds, fairy tales believe in transformation. They believe that goodness matters, that love matters, and that light can still break through. I think that’s what I’ve always loved most about them.

In your opinion, what makes a retelling stand out? What do you consider the joys and challenges of writing in this specific subgenre?

For me, what makes a retelling stand out is the author’s unique voice and the fresh twist they bring to a story we think we already know. The bones of the fairy tale are still there—the core themes, the iconic tropes, the emotional shape of it—but the magic is in what makes that version different. Why this retelling? Why now? Why this author? That’s the part that excites me most.

When I started writing my own retellings, I asked myself a lot of what if? questions. What if Cinderella fell in love with a prince from another realm? What if Snow White had elemental magic? What if Belle could read magical languages? That’s where the stories start opening up for me. The challenge is honoring the familiar elements readers love while still making the story feel new, surprising, and entirely my own. But honestly, that’s also the joy of it. Taking something timeless and giving it a fresh heartbeat is one of the most fun parts of writing in this subgenre.

As to giving tales a fresh heartbeat, what fairy tale is the most complicated to reinvent for you, and why?

What a great question. Right now, I’d say the most complicated one to reinvent has been The Snow Queen. That’s my next retelling, and I’ve been thinking hard about how to make it feel fresh and magical without wandering into territory that feels too close to Frozen. I want it to feel familiar to readers who know the original fairy tale, but I also want to bring my own twist, voice, and emotional heart to it. That balance can be tricky.

I think that’s what makes this one especially challenging for me at the moment. It’s the story directly in front of me, so I’m deep in the questions of what to keep, what to reinvent, and how to make it unmistakably mine. That’s always the puzzle with retellings, but this one feels particularly layered because the source material has such a strong cultural shadow now.

You recently published Once Upon an Enchanted Castle, a direct retelling of “Beauty and the Beast,” that I loved. What struck me the most about this book was the character of Isabella, the “Beauty” figure, for how unusual she is as a character: a professional linguist. How did you come across the idea for this story, and what can you tell us about its creative process?

This one actually came to me in a very funny, very random way. I was texting my sister-in-law about book ideas—she’s not a writer, but she very kindly listens to all my ramblings—and I suddenly typed that I wanted to write Beauty and the Beast, but make Beauty smart in a very specific way. I wanted her to have her own area of expertise, her own power, so I said: she’s going to be a linguist. She’s going to translate books. It just popped into my head right there in the text conversation. My sister-in-law’s response was basically, “This is amazing,” and I remember thinking, Okay, yes, there’s something here.

From there, I did what I always do: I started asking myself a cascade of What if? questions. What if her father was a merchant? What if he brought home a strange old book no one could read? What if the book was cursed? And what if that cursed book was somehow tied to a cursed prince? Once those pieces clicked into place, the whole story began to open up.

What I loved most about the creative process for Once Upon an Enchanted Castle was building a Beauty figure whose intelligence was central to the story. Isabella’s gift with language isn’t just a character detail—it’s part of the magic, part of the mystery, and part of what makes her the right person for this particular tale. That made the retelling feel fresh to me. It still has the romantic, enchanted heart of Beauty and the Beast, but it also gave me room to play with cursed texts, hidden meanings, and the idea that words themselves can hold power. Honestly, it was delicious fun to write.

And speaking of “Beauty and the Beast” versions, which of the three main versions—Villeneuve, Beaumont, Disney—are you personally the fondest of, and why?

Disney, hands down. No hesitation. That version absolutely owns my heart. Part of it is pure nostalgia, of course, but part of it is also that it was such a visual feast for me. I was completely enchanted by the romance, the music, the ballroom scene, the Beast’s castle, all of it. It felt lush and magical and larger than life in exactly the way fairy tales are supposed to feel.

And yes, this absolutely ties back to my earlier LaserDisc confession, because I wore that thing out. I loved it that much. There was just something about seeing it in those rich, vivid colors that made the whole experience feel even more magical. So for me, Disney will always be the version I’m fondest of.

I imagine you still have a few tales to retell for your Enchanted Realms series, Do you ever yourself writing an original fairy tale as opposed to a retelling?

Oh, I absolutely still have a long list of tales I want to retell. The Enchanted Realms world has plenty of room left for me to keep playing, and I’m nowhere near done with fairy tales yet. There are still so many stories that spark ideas for me, and I love the challenge of finding the right twist that makes a retelling feel fresh and magical.

As for writing an original fairy tale, I’ve definitely thought about it. I haven’t landed on the idea yet—the one that makes me sit up and go, Oh, there you are—but it’s very much something I could see myself doing. It’s absolutely not out of the question. Honestly, it feels less like if and more like when the right story finally appears and demands to be told.

Many authors who started their careers writing retellings later abandon fairy tales for other genres and story ideas. Do you plan to continue writing retellings or will you move on to other projects?

Oh, I absolutely plan to keep writing retellings. Not just fairy tales, either, but other familiar stories that carry that same mythic, recognizable resonance. I love taking a tale people think they know and finding a new emotional angle, a new layer of magic, or a fresh twist that makes it feel alive again. I would love to do my own take on The Wizard of Oz, for example. And I’ve already stepped a little beyond traditional fairy tales with my riff on Poe’s The Raven in Once Upon a Midnight Dreary.

I really see the Enchanted Realms as one of my flagship worlds. That means I fully intend to keep writing in it, expanding it, and building more stories around it. I’m definitely not done there. At the same time, I also love exploring adjacent ideas, which is why I’m working on a cozy fantasy spinoff connected to the Enchanted Realms. It lives beside that world rather than inside the core retelling line, and I’m hoping to have it out later this year.

You host a podcast called Miles Beyond the Page, in which you talk with other authors about the writing and publishing process. What insights have you gleaned from these conversations that you find the most eye-opening?

Oh gosh—so many things. One of the biggest takeaways for me has been just how creative, resilient, and hardworking authors really are, especially Indie authors. They are constantly building not just books, but entire careers—often while wearing twelve different hats at once. I love hearing about their processes, their inspirations, the strange and wonderful ways their stories come together, and what keeps them going when this business gets hard. Because it does get hard.

I think the most eye-opening part, though, is realizing over and over again that none of us are alone in this. So many of us share the same struggles, the same doubts, the same deep love for story, and yes—the same complicated relationship with marketing. That seems to be a near-universal truth. At the end of the day, whether we’re talking about fairy tales, folklore, fantasy, romance, or publishing in general, most authors want the same thing: to tell the stories they feel called to tell and to have readers truly connect with them. That shared heart behind the work is something I find incredibly moving.

If there was a Hall of Fame for retold fairy tales, which would you consider the best retold stories and why are they worthy of inclusion in said Hall of Fame?

A Curse So Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer belongs in the Hall of Fame because it does what the best retellings do: it honors the original fairy tale while creating something fresh enough to stand on its own. House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin A. Craig had a great Gothic concept, but A Curse So Dark and Lonely felt like the stronger, more complete retelling.

I actually liked the whole series by Brigid Kemmerer!

Is there an author who you view as a role model for your own writing?

There are so many authors I admire, in both traditional publishing and Indie, that it’s hard to narrow it down. But the writers who most inspired me to start writing—and to keep writing—are Gena Showalter, Karen Marie Moning, Holly Black, and Sarah J. Maas. Their books captured my imagination in different ways, but they all share that ability to create immersive worlds, unforgettable characters, and stories with real emotional pull.

I think what I admire most is how boldly they write the kinds of stories only they could tell. Their work feels vivid, distinct, and unapologetically itself, and that’s something I’ve always found inspiring. They each reminded me, in different ways, of the kind of magic books can hold—and of the kind of writer I wanted to become.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Michelle! It’s been such a pleasure to talk with an author as enthusiastic about fairy tales as we are here. We will be keeping an eye on your future books, which we hope shall be many more in the years to come.

Thank you so much for having me!

Welcome to Conversations with Fairy Whisperers, Allison! So happy to have you as our guest here today. I understand that you débuted as an author by publishing short stories and fairy tale retellings. Can you tell us what fascinates you about fairy tales and how did you begin writing retellings of them?

Hello! I’ve been writing retellings since I was very small. I’ve been drawn to symbolism since a young age: it’s how my mind works, and I love the overt allegorical elements of classic fairy tales, so I think that was my “on ramp” for the genre.

There are incredible themes of truth tucked in amongst the magic of these stories.  I also enjoy the whimsy. Fairy tales naturally have strange and lighthearted oddities, fantastic creatures, and wondrous settings. I also love stories that almost demand sweet endings. I love the guarantee of happy endings that fairy tales provide, where readers can be assured that they will be satisfied and happy when they reach the final page.

Of all the styles and formats retellings come in—pictorial, screen, graphic, illustrated, or written—which do you most favour as an author and as a reader?

What a fun question! Can I say all of them? I think that’s part of what makes fairy tales so exciting: they work so well in any format! I have enjoyed fairy tales as films, graphic novels, and books…but I’ll always have a soft spot for written fairy tales, since that was what I grew up with.

The first retelling of yours I read was a Cinderella one from the standpoint of the fairy godparent. How did you pick this fairy tale in particular? Do you have a favourite fairy tale, and what aspects of it appeal to you personally?

The idea of Burndee (the irascible baking fairy who finds himself embroiled in the story of Cinderella) simply popped into my head one night. I suppose The Reluctant Godfather was simply the culmination of years of loving both fairy tales and baking.

In addition, I always try to do something fresh with fairy tales. I like to do something a bit quirky, something that hasn’t been done before (or at least, something that I personally haven’t seen before). My tagline is “Retellings That Surprise” you, so that’s often my starting point with retellings. 

I love your tagline! After so many retellings, it’s rare that one surprises me these days, especially for a popular fairy tale. Do you have a favourite fairy tale? What aspects of it appeal to you personally, and why?

One of my favorite fairy tales is Rumpelstiltskin. The part of that story that appeals to me is that there is no overt villain—or rather, you could say, there is no true hero. Everyone is behaving so inexplicably and so selfishly that it’s downright farcical, and I do love a good farce!

That explains your retellings being comedic as your trademark. In your opinion, what makes a retelling stand out? What do you consider the joys and challenges of writing in this specific subgenre?

One of the things that makes a fairy tale retelling stand out to me, personally, is something that isn’t just a fluffy romance. Something with a little quirkiness and humor always grabs my attention, because those are both such crucial elements of the classics I grew up reading. I also like fairy tales that make you think. Again, most classic fairy tales had very strong moral lessons, so I love a fairy tale with strong themes! 

I think one of the joys of writing fairy tales for me is that I find it very cathartic to fix things, even if it’s just stories. When life doesn’t make sense, I can still take something weird and try to inject logic and reason into it. I’m not able to answer all the world’s questions, but I can provide answers for why Cinderella’s father married the wicked stepmother! Writing fairy tales is a way for me to bring answers, order, and clarity to a part of my mind that craves it.

I would say one challenge of writing fairy tales is sometimes not being taken seriously as a writer. I’ve found, on occasion, that people can be a little condescending towards fairy tales and the people that write them. I’ve even had a few individuals tell me to stop playing with fairy tales and start writing my “own” stories. Doubtless those individuals have since encountered their fairy godparents and been turned into frogs, but I digress. 

I can relate to being targeted by that dismissive attitude all too well, it’s unfortunate that folklore’s complexity and depth is ignored. And speaking of complex, in your opinion, what fairy tale is the most complicated to reinvent, and why?

As far as which fairy tale is most complicated, Sleeping Beauty is always tough, since your heroine is out of the action for such an extended period.

Unless one is particularly inventive, the author is left with three options: don’t narrate from Briar Rose’s perspective, have most of the story take place before or after the infamous hundred-year sleep, or have part of the story take place in a dream world of sorts. An author has a little less elbow room and flexibility with that story, so they have to be extra clever.

You recently published the audiobook edition of Break the Beast, your reimagining of the medieval legend of Beowulf. When I first read the book, I was struck by it having a faint but very noticeable Beauty and the Beast thematic vibe, sans romance and infused with a Christian angle the original legend does have but is usually overlooked in retellings. How did you come across the idea for this reinvention, and what can you tell us about its creative process? 

I’ve been obsessed with Beowulf ever since I read Seamus Heaney’s translation: I think I knew that I would have to do my own reiteration of it eventually. My love for it was so intense, it was inevitable. 

Sometime after reading Beowulf, I read Into the Heartless Woods by Joanna Ruth Meyer (a book with very defined Beauty and the Beast themes) and was so enchanted by the initial narrative voice (a beast-girl that communicated with a raw, broken POV) and the fascination for that very specific narrative voice and Beowulf collided and my Grendel came to life in my mind. I wrote one scene with her and Beowulf and then temporarily shelved it, because I knew the project would be very demanding and I wasn’t sure I could do it justice.

Sometime after that, I began arranging the multi-author series, A Classic Retold. I originally intended to work on Break the Beast for that collaboration, but then hesitated, because the story intimidated me so much. I tried to work on other retellings for the collaboration but, in the end, the beast called to me and I had to answer. I was right to be nervous about it, though. Writing Break the Beast was one of the hardest undertakings of my life, but it was worth the fight. 

Many authors who started their careers writing retellings later abandon fairy tale and myth retellings for other genres and story ideas. Do you plan to continue writing retellings or will you move on to other projects?

I’ll always be writing retellings, no question! But I’ll definitely be exploring many different kinds of stories in the future. I can never limit myself to one genre. Most of my published short fiction are “original” stories and not retellings—representing various Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and even contemporary genres. I even published a Western anthology last year!

Do you ever see yourself writing an original fairy tale as opposed to a retelling of one?

I’m in the middle of developing an idea right now that has an original fairy tale flavor. It’s very Knightcore/Fairycore and features lady knights, comedic dragons, and enchanted towers. I’m excited about it!

I like the name Fairycore for original modern fairy tales very much! As for retellings, if there was a Hall of Fame for retold fairy tales, which would you consider the best retold stories and why are they worthy of inclusion in said Hall of Fame?

Well, naturally, I’d have to say Beauty by Robin McKinley! I still remember where I was when I first picked it off the shelf.

The chokehold that book had on me was truly incomparable. Most of my early stories were retellings of THAT retelling (I think I worked on about twenty different retellings of Beauty and the Beast in those first years after reading Beauty). It permanently altered my brain chemistry, that’s for sure. I still love Robin McKinley’s writing style. 

Is there an author who you view as a role model for your own writing?

Definitely C. S. Lewis. I’m inspired by his compassion and try to emulate it. It pains me to see so many stories where authors kill off and torture characters arbitrarily because they need to shock their readers to keep them interested—it’s so lazy. And it’s careless of people’s feelings. Many people read to escape from various painful situations, so why would I traumatize my readers for my own amusement? Break the Beast tackles some very intense subjects, but I make sure that tough things only happen for a good reason.

 
I can’t think of any other author that was as conscientious about his characters and his readers as C. S. Lewis. Any torment or pain in Narnia was there for a specific purpose—it was never gratuitous. The weak and the helpless received mercy and kindness. The reader was never shocked or grieved beyond all repair.

His restraint not only showed respect for his readers, but it also allowed him to keep a good, firm grip on story tension, one of the most important elements of storytelling. By not going overboard on suffering throughout his books, Lewis always had the proper amount left over for the Darkest Moment. He inspires me every day.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Allison! We will be keeping an eye on your future books, which we hope will be many more in the years to come.

Thank you so much for having me!

Welcome to Conversations with Fairy Whisperers, Rachelle! Glad to have you here in our space connecting the fairy tale retellings readership with the creators of the stories they love. Tell us about yourself, what fascinates you about fairy tales and how did you begin writing retellings of them?

Hello! I am so happy to be a guest on the blog today. It’s a special thing to connect with readers outside the pages of my novels. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the recommendations and content on your website, so thank you for including me.

Fairy tales are so deeply woven into the fabric of our culture, it’s hard to know where my love for them began. Was it classic Disney? Was it the giant, hardback copy of Grimm and Andersen that sat on my bedroom shelf? I think the best stories have stuck around for centuries because they resonate with the human condition. Fairy tales help us to feel seen, to feel hopeful, or to feel frightened of the right things. They are a reflection of the darkest and lightest parts of our lives.

So, when I began writing, fairy tales naturally found their way into the structures of my plots.

Of all the styles and formats retellings come in—pictorial, screen, graphic, illustrated, or written—which do you most favour?

I grew up reading Robin McKinley, Shannon Hale, Gail Carson Levine, and so many other beautiful writers who brought fairytales to life in a brand new way. Novels will always be my favorite way to experience a story because of the depth of character.

That being said, I also went through a serious obsession with the artwork of Brian Froud. I don’t know if you can call his paintings direct retellings, but his characters are often inspired by ancient folklore from the British Isles.

Oh, I can totally see how his paintings can be seen as retellings! Some academics, like Jack Zipes, argue that illustrations are as valid a form of fairy tale retelling as written ones, and I agree with him. And since you mentioned growing up with anthologies of the mainstream fairy tellers’ work, do you have a favourite fairy tale? What aspects of it appeal to you personally, and why?

I do have a terrible weakness for Beauty and the Beast. Wouldn’t it be beautiful if true love could break all curses and change men from monsters to princes? Unfortunately, this . . . kind of hope has led many women to stay in abusive situations for too long.

But Beauty and the Beast is about more than just saving monsters from themselves. It shows a love the transcends physical attraction, and I think a lot of us long for a deep heart connection like that. Despite the many critiques of Beauty and the Beast (Stockholm syndrome as romance), I still will devour a good retelling. And I tried to show a healthier relationship in my version than might be expected. Although boundaries are so important, I will always be moved by the sacrificial love intrinsic to the tale.

My debut novel, Sky of Seven Colors, was inspired by Beauty and the Beast in small ways (A gothic castle. A bargain to save a life.), but really it came from the stories of goblin kings stealing human brides. Sky of Seven Colors is not about true love. It is about the difference between being loved and being wanted. It’s a story about finding your voice and taking back your power. Plus a touch of the Dark Crystal and The Giver.

My novel Embergold stays true to the happily-ever-after of a fairy tale, but there are still so many twists in the plot.

That’s interesting! I have seen B&B retellings that use goblins as the Beast. So, you could say you have two books that drink from the fairy tale’s plot to retell it. In your opinion, what makes a retelling stand out? What do you consider the joys and challenges of writing in this specific subgenre?

A good story is a good story, even if you’ve read it before. Sometimes, familiarity is comforting, and then all the creative little twists can be more appreciated. I love Melanie Cellier’s retelling series, even though I always know where the plot is going. She’s just so clever, and she make you love her characters.

Little changes can make a big difference, like an untraditionally grumpy heroine, a new consequence to magic, or a combination of classics that makes everything feel new.

And speaking of changes, in your opinion, what fairy tale is the most complicated to reinvent, and why?

A literary agent once told me that Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland are the most common retellings they see. With Alice in Wonderland, the original story was meandering and disjointed on purpose. So, though it might be often done, writing Alice to fit the expectations of the fantasy genre is no easy task.

You recently published Embergold, a story that combines “Beauty and the Beast,” our favourite tale on this site, with dragon-and-maiden folklore and some bits of historical inspiration for the world. How did you come across the idea for this story, and what can you tell us about its creative process?

I started out thinking about the story of Rumplestiltskin. Why would a creepy little man want a baby to raise in the wilderness? Of course you can think of a hundred horrible reasons right out of the gate, but I wanted a more creative reason than pure depravity. So I started to imagine the character of Gilde, a child raised in isolation for a magical purpose.

That’s quite the revelation! This puts the relationship between Gilde and her father under a new light I hadn’t considered and it clarifies a lot in hindsight. And on the matter of dragons and maidens, do you have a favourite story with this archetype and what do you find most appealing about it?

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine has a haunting depiction of the maiden and dragon relationship. I was always fascinated by the way the heroine pities the dragon, fears it, and appeases it in order to survive.

None of that made it into Embergold, though. I was more inspired by the story of Eustace from Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where being a dragon is a curse. It makes Eustace powerful, and it makes him lonely.

Many authors who started their careers writing retellings later abandon fairy tale retellings for other genres and story ideas. Do you plan to continue writing retellings or will you move on to other projects?

I suspect my stories will always feel a bit like a fairy tale. It’s been a lifelong obsession. But my debut novel, Sky of Seven Colors, wasn’t a real retelling. Many readers described it as a new fairy tale they’d never read before, and my next book is more like that. The story I’m crafting now combines pieces of Davy Jones’s Locker with tales of sea monsters and maidens lost to the waves.

So you’ll be doing Folkloric Fantasy next! We look forward to that. And looking back at great books already published, if there was a Hall of Fame for retold fairy tales, which would you consider the best retold stories books and why are they worthy of inclusion in said Hall of Fame?

I’ve already mentioned a few here, but I think my absolute favorite is Beauty by Robin McKinley. I also adore Hollow Kingdom by Claire B Dunkle (A terrible Stockholm syndrome story about a goblin beast. The world building is unmatched.)

Is there an author who you view as a role model for your own writing?

I’ve read everything ever written by C. S. Lewis, though my writing is nothing like his. Juliet Marillier is an inspiration for character development and historical grounding, though my books are geared toward a young adult audience, so they are much more tame than her adult fantasy romances. I love Kierra Cass’s hooky stories, but nothing I write is quite that flashy. If I could write prose half as well as Rebecca Ross, I would rejoice.

Mostly, I just love to read. I love so many books I can’t name them all. One day, I found I had my own stories to write, so I did. I’m sure they are a patchwork of all the authors I’ve read.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Rachelle! We will be keeping an eye on your future books, which we hope shall be many more in the years to come.

Thank you for the opportunity! What a pleasure.