Seven Basic Plots
Entry by: Lil' Me
29th January 2016
Intro:
I have always been fascinated by fairytales.
Growing up we owned a compendium of Hans Christian Anderson stories. An incredibly thick book, one I could hardly hold, with well over 1,000 tissue like pages. Sinister illustrations filled the blue dust cover, hiding the etched gold title on the front of the book. I would sit in our front room, surrounded by words, delving into the dark world of folklore.
My favourite tale was ‘The Little Mermaid’ because it was not the happy ever after fable we generally hear. The Little Mermaid does not marry the prince, instead he loves another, and so the little mermaid, in her grief, throws herself into the waves - only to become a daughter of the air.
As an adult I love reading short stories based on fairytales. Many writers produce reworkings of the old tales with a new twist. This is my attempt.
**********
I met my prince the first summer after I left school.
We lived alone on the sea shore; my grandmother, my father, my sisters and I. A tiny house tucked away, far from the hustle and bustle of nearby towns and the tourists. I was the youngest and I was the princess.
We had such a happy childhood, running free amongst the sand dunes and the waves. I loved the sea in all her moods; from the sparkling, dancing softness of the summer days, to the wild winter storms that lashed the coast. I would sit on the cliff edge, sheltered by the low shrubs, and watch the wind wreak havoc. The only sadness that marred my childhood was the day my mother died.
As each of my sisters turned of age they left our happy house and home, going out into the big wide world. I knew I could never leave. Unlike my sisters I was not academic, preferring the outdoors to study. When I was not playing by the sea I spent my time in our garden growing beautiful red flowers. Sometimes when the sunset lit the spray of blossoms it would remind me of a sea of blood.
The nearby town was a wealthy one, where the workers from the city spent their summers in the sun. It was not a large town being specifically built for tourists. Amongst the grand summerhouses were a couple of shops, a restaurant, and of course the boathouse.
I am so timid and quiet that looking for my first job was a daunting prospect. I eventually found work in the kitchens of the boathouse. My job was to wash the crystal glassware, to the sound of laughter and voices of the wealthy next door. It may seem strange but I liked to wash the dishes. The crystal came to me covered in sticky liquids, fingerprints and lipstick. I would dip the glasses into the water, and when I pulled them out the crystal would catch the sunlight from the window, reminding me of the sun on the waves.
It was through this window I first saw my prince, laughing and joking with his friends on the balcony. He was tall and slight, but with a strength that alluded to wireyness. His dark wavy hair brushed his shoulders and he had a kind a gentle face. Every afternoon I would stand there at the window, watching my prince, spinning daydreams and my castle in the air. I was too afraid to speak to him, but I knew one day I would.
It was during my second summer working at the boathouse that I told father and grandmother of my prince. Both of them were so happy for me, and father clutched my hand and said ‘I hope you two will happy together, as happy as your mother and I were.’ Now all I needed was the courage to speak to my prince.
It was my third summer in the kitchen that things changed. My prince arrived accompanied by a beautiful girl with long golden hair. She was so lovely to look at, delicate as a flower, always dancing and laughing with my prince. How I hated her, and once the seed of jealously was planted I could not stop it growing.
My father held my hand during these dark days. A look of sorrow in his kind brown eyes. We would sit for hours like that on our varandah, watching the sea, his brown, weathered face so full of kindness and love, giving me hope.
The day I almost lost my prince started as a beautiful one. The sky glowed red with the coming dawn, and not a breath of wind could be felt as I walked along the shore to work. The heat built steadily during the morning and by lunchtime the air was stifling. There was something sinister about the people lounging on the seats in the heat, dripping perspiration and wondering when the change would come.
Eventually we saw the clouds forming on the horizon. ‘Looks like a storm is brewing’ someone commented behind me. I looked out anxiously across the waves. Only a few boats had gone to sea in this heat, but my prince was on one of them. I prayed he would be in soon.
By mid afternoon all the boats were in except for one. My heart pounded wildly as I heard people discussing the Lady Bell.
‘Why doesn’t he come in?’ I heard someone say. ‘Surely he has seen the storm’ said another.
At this my heart grew cold. I ran upstairs to the lounge room and grabbed a pair of binoculars. I could just make out the boat. There seemed to be some sort of frantic activity aboard, but my prince was too far away to make it out. Suddenly a flair went up.
‘He's in trouble’ I gasped to the crowd gathered downstairs. The beautiful golden girl was amongst them and I saw her face go pale.
‘If I take out the Lucy Lou I will get to him on time.’ I said to her fierecly. She looked at me blankly, she was so afraid.
The wind had whipped up by this point and the black clouds were rolling in.
‘Come on’ I shouted to anyone who would help me. As I ran to the boat I could hear someone yell ‘it’s madness, you can’t go out in this’ but I did not care. No one tried to stop me as I prepared for cast off. At the last moment the golden girl jumped in. She had thrown off her look of terror and her mouth was set in a straight determined line.
I will never forget that trip. The wind only grew stronger as we headed out to the stranded boat. The waves grew bigger and bigger, and more often than not hid our destination. By the time we reached the boat the rain had started, and it was coming down as a deluge.
We managed to pull alongside the Lady Bell, but it was difficult to hold fast. The two boats were bobbing up and down to a different beat. My prince, my beautiful prince, was soaked to the bone and nursing one arm to his side. I managed to get a firm grip on the Lady Bell and my prince tried to clamber across. Then disaster struck, a giant wave hit the boats and he was washed overboard.
The golden girl shrieked. A high pitched scream without end. I turned and looked at her with contempt, this beautiful golden girl who did nothing but scream whilst my prince struggled to keep his head above the waves. I grabbed a life ring and jumped into the sea. The shock of the water hit me first. It was so cold, but I quickly got my limbs working and fought the storm to swim across.
I managed to grab my prince before he went under again. He was exhausted and could barely clutch the ring I gave him. I finally managed to secure him safely and turned back to the golden girl. Thankfully she had come to her senses and pulled us in.
As we dropped to the bottom of the boat, my prince and the golden girl clung to each other sobbing. They could not seem to get close enough and in the dark of the storm they merged together to form one person. I felt my heart break as I heard the whisper of words ‘I love you’. It was a cold and lonely journey back to the shore.
*******
It is all ok now, my prince is mine. He came to thank me last week for saving him, and he has yet to leave. He will learn to love me in time, and if he does not it is ok. He can live in the rooms especially made for mother. The rooms below the house that go down, down, down through the rock to bottom of the cliffs. The rooms beneath the waves, with no access to the outside world. We will be happy down there, just as my father and mother were before me.
I have always been fascinated by fairytales.
Growing up we owned a compendium of Hans Christian Anderson stories. An incredibly thick book, one I could hardly hold, with well over 1,000 tissue like pages. Sinister illustrations filled the blue dust cover, hiding the etched gold title on the front of the book. I would sit in our front room, surrounded by words, delving into the dark world of folklore.
My favourite tale was ‘The Little Mermaid’ because it was not the happy ever after fable we generally hear. The Little Mermaid does not marry the prince, instead he loves another, and so the little mermaid, in her grief, throws herself into the waves - only to become a daughter of the air.
As an adult I love reading short stories based on fairytales. Many writers produce reworkings of the old tales with a new twist. This is my attempt.
**********
I met my prince the first summer after I left school.
We lived alone on the sea shore; my grandmother, my father, my sisters and I. A tiny house tucked away, far from the hustle and bustle of nearby towns and the tourists. I was the youngest and I was the princess.
We had such a happy childhood, running free amongst the sand dunes and the waves. I loved the sea in all her moods; from the sparkling, dancing softness of the summer days, to the wild winter storms that lashed the coast. I would sit on the cliff edge, sheltered by the low shrubs, and watch the wind wreak havoc. The only sadness that marred my childhood was the day my mother died.
As each of my sisters turned of age they left our happy house and home, going out into the big wide world. I knew I could never leave. Unlike my sisters I was not academic, preferring the outdoors to study. When I was not playing by the sea I spent my time in our garden growing beautiful red flowers. Sometimes when the sunset lit the spray of blossoms it would remind me of a sea of blood.
The nearby town was a wealthy one, where the workers from the city spent their summers in the sun. It was not a large town being specifically built for tourists. Amongst the grand summerhouses were a couple of shops, a restaurant, and of course the boathouse.
I am so timid and quiet that looking for my first job was a daunting prospect. I eventually found work in the kitchens of the boathouse. My job was to wash the crystal glassware, to the sound of laughter and voices of the wealthy next door. It may seem strange but I liked to wash the dishes. The crystal came to me covered in sticky liquids, fingerprints and lipstick. I would dip the glasses into the water, and when I pulled them out the crystal would catch the sunlight from the window, reminding me of the sun on the waves.
It was through this window I first saw my prince, laughing and joking with his friends on the balcony. He was tall and slight, but with a strength that alluded to wireyness. His dark wavy hair brushed his shoulders and he had a kind a gentle face. Every afternoon I would stand there at the window, watching my prince, spinning daydreams and my castle in the air. I was too afraid to speak to him, but I knew one day I would.
It was during my second summer working at the boathouse that I told father and grandmother of my prince. Both of them were so happy for me, and father clutched my hand and said ‘I hope you two will happy together, as happy as your mother and I were.’ Now all I needed was the courage to speak to my prince.
It was my third summer in the kitchen that things changed. My prince arrived accompanied by a beautiful girl with long golden hair. She was so lovely to look at, delicate as a flower, always dancing and laughing with my prince. How I hated her, and once the seed of jealously was planted I could not stop it growing.
My father held my hand during these dark days. A look of sorrow in his kind brown eyes. We would sit for hours like that on our varandah, watching the sea, his brown, weathered face so full of kindness and love, giving me hope.
The day I almost lost my prince started as a beautiful one. The sky glowed red with the coming dawn, and not a breath of wind could be felt as I walked along the shore to work. The heat built steadily during the morning and by lunchtime the air was stifling. There was something sinister about the people lounging on the seats in the heat, dripping perspiration and wondering when the change would come.
Eventually we saw the clouds forming on the horizon. ‘Looks like a storm is brewing’ someone commented behind me. I looked out anxiously across the waves. Only a few boats had gone to sea in this heat, but my prince was on one of them. I prayed he would be in soon.
By mid afternoon all the boats were in except for one. My heart pounded wildly as I heard people discussing the Lady Bell.
‘Why doesn’t he come in?’ I heard someone say. ‘Surely he has seen the storm’ said another.
At this my heart grew cold. I ran upstairs to the lounge room and grabbed a pair of binoculars. I could just make out the boat. There seemed to be some sort of frantic activity aboard, but my prince was too far away to make it out. Suddenly a flair went up.
‘He's in trouble’ I gasped to the crowd gathered downstairs. The beautiful golden girl was amongst them and I saw her face go pale.
‘If I take out the Lucy Lou I will get to him on time.’ I said to her fierecly. She looked at me blankly, she was so afraid.
The wind had whipped up by this point and the black clouds were rolling in.
‘Come on’ I shouted to anyone who would help me. As I ran to the boat I could hear someone yell ‘it’s madness, you can’t go out in this’ but I did not care. No one tried to stop me as I prepared for cast off. At the last moment the golden girl jumped in. She had thrown off her look of terror and her mouth was set in a straight determined line.
I will never forget that trip. The wind only grew stronger as we headed out to the stranded boat. The waves grew bigger and bigger, and more often than not hid our destination. By the time we reached the boat the rain had started, and it was coming down as a deluge.
We managed to pull alongside the Lady Bell, but it was difficult to hold fast. The two boats were bobbing up and down to a different beat. My prince, my beautiful prince, was soaked to the bone and nursing one arm to his side. I managed to get a firm grip on the Lady Bell and my prince tried to clamber across. Then disaster struck, a giant wave hit the boats and he was washed overboard.
The golden girl shrieked. A high pitched scream without end. I turned and looked at her with contempt, this beautiful golden girl who did nothing but scream whilst my prince struggled to keep his head above the waves. I grabbed a life ring and jumped into the sea. The shock of the water hit me first. It was so cold, but I quickly got my limbs working and fought the storm to swim across.
I managed to grab my prince before he went under again. He was exhausted and could barely clutch the ring I gave him. I finally managed to secure him safely and turned back to the golden girl. Thankfully she had come to her senses and pulled us in.
As we dropped to the bottom of the boat, my prince and the golden girl clung to each other sobbing. They could not seem to get close enough and in the dark of the storm they merged together to form one person. I felt my heart break as I heard the whisper of words ‘I love you’. It was a cold and lonely journey back to the shore.
*******
It is all ok now, my prince is mine. He came to thank me last week for saving him, and he has yet to leave. He will learn to love me in time, and if he does not it is ok. He can live in the rooms especially made for mother. The rooms below the house that go down, down, down through the rock to bottom of the cliffs. The rooms beneath the waves, with no access to the outside world. We will be happy down there, just as my father and mother were before me.
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