Blog

Once, there was a poor wretch whose eyes and hair and even skin were often gray. Who ‘went to sleep in her dirt’ night after night for lack of a bathtub, for want of the ease of hauling water, or extra wood for heating the fire. And she was all the more sorrowful for thinking she was to blame for it...

I would like to know why this is hard, said the prince. I would like to know why the hedge is so thick and the thorns are so sharp, and...

Here is my 'Simple Story' retelling of a folktale. You can also read about my process, including making a list of Plot Points for oral...

I walked down a favorite forest road and collected cans and shotgun shells on my way back, and I thought of the story of Mother Holle. In...