The Power of Myth in Fiction

By Sarah Callender  |  September 14, 2016  | 

Photo by Flickr's Carl Black

After the recent death of Gene Wilder, I heard several moving tributes and interviews from the early 2000s. But it was Wilder’s words about his childhood that struck me: after his mother had a heart attack, the heart specialist took eight-year-old Wilder gently by the arm and said, “Don’t ever get angry with your mother. Because you might kill her. Try to make her laugh.”

I imagine Wilder held tight to these words, this myth: If I don’t get angry with my mother, if I can make my mother laugh, then I’ll still have a mother.

I also imagine this myth propelled the young Wilder on a quest to use his wise and gentle humor to get others to laugh, to keep people well, to keep people alive. How fortunate that so many of us have been the beneficiary of Wilder’s humor and dramatic talent. But believing that the expression of a particular emotion could kill one’s mother? What a burden for a child to bear! At what point did Wilder realize the doctor’s words were hyperbole? What impact did this realization have on Wilder? Was he grateful for the doctor’s words that set him on a particular trajectory, or did he chafe at the doctor’s well-intentioned manipulation? 

The myths in our families–the false stories, claimed and perpetuated, that influence our relationships and behavior–are powerful forces that truly can alter our identity and our path. The creation and establishment of family myths are usually not intended to deceive or manipulate, but to protect and edify. But they are always untruths. And they are fascinating in their power.

Myths can establish who or what a family is (or is not). We are Johnsons! Sure, Johnsons like to have a few drinks, but we aren’t alcoholics. We hold our liquor!

Myths can serve as cautionary tales. You’re pushing thirty, Susan, and you’re still single. You don’t want to turn into a lonely spinster like Great Aunt Lorraine. You know what happened to her …

Myths can protect ourselves and others from a difficult or upsetting reality. Your great grandfather died in an accident on the train tracks, but it was just that–an accident. 

I didn’t appreciate the power of myth in our fiction until I got my hands on Lisa Cron’s book Story Genius. Buy this book. It’s brilliant. It has saved my writing life. I’m not exaggerating.

In it Cron raises the idea of misbeliefs—how we (and our characters) are guided and propelled by at least one important misbelief. Yes!

Let’s look at some examples in fiction:

  • The misbelief that love conquers all propels starry-eyed Romeo.
  • The misbelief that money can buy true love propels Jay Gatsby.
  • The misbelief that Christmas can be stolen and stuffed in a bag propels the Grinch.
  • The misbelief that Roadrunner is catch-able propels Wile E. Coyote.

These characters’ paths are carved by a misbelief, and it’s the reality of this belief’s wrongness that causes one of two things: Utter and paralyzing despair (and tragic endings for Romeo and Gatsby). Or growth and change (on the day that the Grinch realized Christmas could not be stolen, his small heart grew three sizes). Dear Wile E. Coyote isn’t destroyed nor does he grow and mature; as a result, his story is predictable and silly.

We must build a story around a character’s desire to attain or achieve something, and as Cron states, we must understand how a misbelief drives this character. And we can enrich a character’s life and desire when we understand how a family or childhood myth established and solidified that misbelief. This family myth might not play an overt presence in the novel; it may be mentioned only briefly. But a novel will be even richer when the author understands and communicates how and when a childhood or family myth established a character’s misbelief.

Jay Gatsby, for example, is interesting for his desire to buy love; he becomes even more compelling when we see how his father’s pride in Gatsby’s wealth might have edified Gatsby’s misbelief that wealth garners attention, respect and love. Romeo’s quest for love is interesting, but it’s the myths that arise from the family feud that help us understand what Romeo is really up against. I don’t know about the Grinch and Wile E. Coyote, but I’d bet good money that they had rough childhoods, during which they came to feel like big fat nothings. Wouldn’t their stories be more compelling if we understood the myths that cemented their misbeliefs? Doesn’t a reader feel more sympathy or empathy when she can see the myth that planted, watered and fertilized a particular misbelief?

After an Alzheimer’s diagnosis, Gene Wilder retreated from the public eye, and in an interview with his nephew after Wilder’s death, his nephew explained that it was not for vanity that Wilder preferred not to be seen in public. Rather, Wilder did not want the news of his decline, along with the details surrounding an illness like Alzheimer’s, to make children sad. Wilder, his nephew explained, “could not bear to be responsible for one less smile in the world.” And children did recognize Wilder in public, seeing him as the magical Willy Wonka, the one who saved Charlie and Charlie’s family from despair. “They always recognized [my uncle],” his nephew explained. “[T]hey always had that smile, that look of wonder. And he would never want to take that look of wonder away from them.”

Gene Wilder understood the power of myth. He wanted to protect children from sadness and disappointment, so he created a myth of his own, keeping himself tucked away, knowing that if he did not appear in public, children could continue to believe that Willy Wonka would never age, would never grow ill, would never become anything less appealing than his magical, marvelous, mythical self.

As Willy Wonka sings to his visitors, “Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination.” Yes, sometimes our imagination, and the myths we can create in our imagination, feel like a beautiful place to reside.

Your turn! Will you share an example of powerful family myths in a work of fiction? How do these myths mold and propel both the family and individual family members? Now think of your WIP. Will you share an example from your WIP to illustrate how myth guides your protagonist along a particular path? And finally, if you grew up believing that Willy Wonka was nothing short of magical and changeless, are you grateful that Wilder chose to keep his particular to himself? I believe I am. 

Photo compliments of Flickr’s Carl Black.

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39 Comments

  1. CG Blake on September 14, 2016 at 7:17 am

    Excellent essay, Sarah. I just finished reading Lisa Cron’s latest book and I was blown away. It was a game changer for me as a writer and I plan to blog about it, too. The example that comes to mind for me is the classic, To Kill a Mockingbird. Scout’s misbelief is that all people are good and principled, like her father, Atticus. By witnessing the evils of racism, she loses her innocence (and her misbelief), but she gains wisdom. Thanks for sharing your insights.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 9:46 am

      Hi CG,

      I’m so glad you loved Lisa’s book too . . . I felt she has helped me understand things that have always been cloudy and intangible. What a relief!

      I love the TKaM example. It makes me think about the power of myth in all coming of age stories. I wonder if the family myth plays more of an overt role in these stories because the protag who comes of age is often a young person.

      I am right now reading A Little Life, an 800+ page saga where the darkest of myths direct the lives of one character in particular. It’s a horrible and beautiful novel, not for everyone (I’m not even sure it’s for me!) because it is so dark, but it illustrates that what we are taught and told (both true and untrue) puts children on a path, for better or worse. Makes me wonder what myths and truths I am teaching my own children! Ack!

      Thank you for your words!



      • Bronwen Jones on September 14, 2016 at 4:12 pm

        You are reading A Little Life? Oh, I read that. And I went to a talk by Hanya Yanagihara at the Auckland (NZ) Writers’ Fest. I was knocked over by the power of that story, and by Hanya. All the shivery feelings are coming back to me just thinking about it. So I had to comment here…



        • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 9:47 am

          Oh yes! There are some points where I ask myself, “Why are you still reading this?” And my answer is always: because it is beautiful writing and excellent storytelling. Plus, I want–need–to see what happens!

          I do think I am going to need something very light after this one; that said, I am already dreading the end . . . I have about 100 pages to go.

          She is an amazing author. And so young!



          • Luna Saint Claire on June 20, 2017 at 12:36 pm

            A Little Life made such an impression on me! I do think it will be one my favorite books ever read. The antagonist of my novel also has a life long trauma that devastates his world view and everyone who comes into contact with him. And maybe it is a myth, or maybe not, what we experience in our youth that propels us through life. Our self-made paradigms are real enough. It is how we evolve and move through them. Maybe in A Little Life it is the “To be or not to be…” that is the question.



  2. Vijaya on September 14, 2016 at 9:26 am

    Sarah, I’m loving Story Genius too, and that whole misbelief thing is an eye-opener. Lisa nailed it in a way I can understand.

    In Kitten’s First Full Moon by Kevin Henkes, the kitten believes the moon is a bowl of milk and the book is a delight as the kitten chases this bowl of milk to disastrous results. Of course, at the very end, the kitten does get a bowl of milk on the porch.

    I think it’s interesting that in picture books, the misbelief is something the child reader understands right away, unlike in novels, where we journey together to have a change of heart.

    I’m toying with an idea about kissing that stems from my own childhood and until I read SG, I didn’t know how to shape the story.

    Thanks for a great essay and RIP Gene Wilder.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 9:53 am

      Yes, sweet and wacky Gene Wilder!

      I love your example from a children’s story. And it’s true (as Lisa Cron points out in both Story Genius and Wired for Story) the reader delights when she can recognize a protagonist’s myths and misbeliefs . . . just as a child would delight in having knowledge that a kitten does not have. There’s such tension in that knowledge: will the kitten learn the truth? What chaos will happen before she learns the truth? How will the truth change her?

      It’s fascinating to me that a reader likes to sit in this position of power and wisdom, even while she squirms, wondering what will come of the protagonist. We humans are so weird and fascinating!

      Thank you for your example–I’m so glad you brought in a children’s story.

      And the kiss story! I hope to read it some day.
      :)



  3. Donald Maass on September 14, 2016 at 9:27 am

    I was the oldest of four. There were myths in my family. One was that I was the “smart one”. Twenty-one books and a successful business later, I guess I’m doing adequately.

    That piece of family mythology pushed my younger siblings into sports. Hockey, field hockey, cycling. My brother and one sister played through college. Another sister became a professional cyclist, world medalist and Olympic team member.

    False beliefs are story generators but they are not the only myths. Positive myths are useful too. In fantasy, the prophecy that makes a savior out of a shy Hobbit is such a myth. The faith of others creates a story of what is possible.

    Myths don’t only work against us, they can work for us. They don’t only limit us, they can make us limitless.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 10:06 am

      Yes! I love your point . . . myths can give courage to both humans and Hobbits.

      I’m curious though (and this idea of family myth came about after a summer of vacations with extended family) about how a myth can propel one child in a positive way while the same myth can limit other children in the family.

      Just a hypothetical, not based on anyone I spent time with this summer . . . let’s say one child in the family was “the easy one, the peacemaker, the smart one, the athletic one,” while the sibling was “the difficult one, the dramatic one, the sensitive one, the trouble-maker around whom everyone tiptoes.”

      Even the “good” kid in this family might have some resentment because, as peacemaker, he can never express anything negative (anger, frustration, his needs and desires); if he does, he will destroy the carefully constructed foundation upon which this family was built. I think there might be, in this hypothetical family, resentment from and for both the good kid and the difficult kid. No? If a good kid is always the good kid, doesn’t that limit his ability to be naughty? If a kid has always been the “math whiz” and goes on to win various award for mathematics prowess, then might that not limit the possibility of her pursuing artistic endeavors?

      I loved your example. And yes, I’d say you did even better than most smart kids. :)



      • Donald Maass on September 14, 2016 at 10:47 am

        Oh yes, family mythology cuts many ways. But that’s not all.

        Unanswered questions, mysteries, tragedies, hurts and shameful acts in the past can also drive characters, in ways both good and bad.

        Those things also create myths and false beliefs. How?Open questions and mysteries do not exist in a vacuum. Hurts, tragedies and shame do not rest peacefully in one’s past.

        The vacuum fills up with possible answers. The injury seeks healing. The shame seeks redemption. Each propel characters on a journey driven by a story in their heads, a story in which their questions are answered, their hurts mend and their shame is forgiven.

        But of course it’s not that easy. The difference between the mythic resolution and the real resolution is what comprises the story journey.

        I love Lisa’s point about false beliefs, and they can arise in many ways.



        • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:22 pm

          I love this, Donald. Thanks for these true words, especially for this point:

          “The difference between the mythic resolution and the real resolution is what comprises the story journey.”

          Spoken like a true (not mythical) smartypants. And I mean that in the best way possible.

          Thanks for your presence here!



        • Luna Saint Claire on June 20, 2017 at 12:44 pm

          And, your comment, Donald, circles back to A Little Life. Not always is the hurt and particularly the Shame (a topic I love the discussion of) mended and/or forgiven. Not even does love and friendship help heal some wounds.



  4. Susan Setteducato on September 14, 2016 at 10:32 am

    Sarah, this is such a rich vein of gold! Myths that propels us and our characters down dead ends or paths to glory! My WIP is based on a family myth that the protagonist identifies with in order to give her life meaning. The ramifications of that are vast. Just so, when we get labeled as the good one or the bad one or the smart one, we take it on like a second skin and maybe spend a lifetime attempting to shed it, or to live into it. And oh, Story Genius. I’m reading it now. It’s a game changer. We are lucky to have such awesome teachers and mentors. And posters like you! Thank you.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:25 pm

      Hi Susan,

      And don’t forget the commenters! I get as much out of comments as I do from any craft book.

      I have a relative who spent decades trying to live up to his parents’ myths and now, he finds it so hard to do and be anything other than the label his parents gave him. It’s amazing how powerful a parent’s label (or other family myth) can be. I look forward to reading your novel!

      :)



  5. Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt on September 14, 2016 at 10:51 am

    The myth I’m trying to change in Pride’s Children is the societally-imposed myth that once someone is damaged in any way – illness, disability in particular, age – then they are no longer ‘good enough’ to have the highest aspirations.

    And they should tuck themselves away quietly and not bother the ‘real people.’

    For example, it is so rare to see a person in a wheelchair (NOT ‘wheelchair-bound’ but ‘wheelchair ENABLED) in an ad, in a TV show, or a movie, and certainly not in a story, that it is almost a shock when I do – and then I almost always find out that the person is there for INSPIRATION for the rest of us. The ‘rest of us’ being assumed to all be healthy young able-bodied people who buy what is being offered.

    NY is full of mobility-impaired people – but you’d never know it if all you watched were the many incarnations of Law and Order. It there’s one in an episode, it’s so the cops have someone to rescue.

    Main character? In a love story? And one in which they’re not going to conveniently tidy themselves away by suicide? You’re kidding, right?

    It is such a pervasive myth that the voices of the disabled themselves are drowned out.

    But really, they’re just people. Almost exactly like the rest of us.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:31 pm

      Wow, Alicia! Such good and important points here. Wheelchair enabled. I love that. Mental illness enabled. Blind enabled.

      Why are humans so very good at judging what kind of person is the “right” person? I’d love to read a novel that challenges this idea. So glad you weighed in today.

      I also love the passion with which you wrote this comment. It means you are writing this novel with equal passion . . . the good and contagious kind, not the Romeo and Juliet kind.

      Happy writing, Ms. A.



    • Luna Saint Claire on June 20, 2017 at 12:55 pm

      awesome comment! The main character of my novel, and the current WIP (they are linked) has a mental illness that hurts others. So, at what point does love become unconditional when others are negatively impacted by someone they love? And, regarding the wheelchair mention above, did you grow up watching Ironsides with Raymond Burr? That was pretty good, right? I also love Stephen Hawking who makes a regular appearance on The Big Bang Theory. But to your point, we need a lot more – and mental illness – specifically narcissistic personality disorder has become the main focus of both my books.



  6. CK Wallis on September 14, 2016 at 11:37 am

    First, I’m just about to finish “Wired for Story” and “Story Genius” is waiting on the shelf. Yes, I’m looking forward to it!

    Some of the myths propelling my young MCs (ages 8-13) are: 1) grown-ups can fix everything, 2) if you’re ‘really’ good at something, like math, it will be always be easy, 3) it’s ‘bad’ to be ‘too short’ if you’re a boy, and ‘too tall’ if you’re a girl, 4) some mistakes ‘ruin’ your life (mistakes might change the course of one’s life, but taking a different path doesn’t mean it’s ruined), 5) fun is the same thing as happiness (as a former bar owner, I’ve watched lots of miserably unhappy people having lots of fun), and 6) the classic, money can buy happiness.

    I just recently figured all this out, thanks to Wired for Story prompting me to look for the themes in my stories. (Thanks, Lisa Cron!)

    Another classic example of a tyrannical myth dictating a life was Marilyn Monroe’s belief that she was homely and therefore unloveable.

    Great post! Thanks for getting my brain started this morning.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:36 pm

      Dear CK,

      I had no idea that Marilyn thought she was homely and unlovable! Goodness . . . I wonder which person (or people) installed and reinforced that idea inside her. How would her life have been different (and how would her death have been different) had she believed just the opposite?

      I love the myths you are setting out to bust in your novel. My short and thin son will be thrilled to read it. Thank you for sharing these details!



  7. Ronald Estrada on September 14, 2016 at 12:32 pm

    I love Lisa’s book! I’m using it now to build my protagonist for my second Navy Brat book. Lisa starts with that myth–or lie–that the character believes. Once you have that, the story really falls into place, building outward from you character and her myth.

    My character in this case is a 12 year old girl whose family is stationed in Pearl Harbor in 1972. The myth she believes is that she can never get close to anyone or have a real home because she moves so often. Taking Lisa’s advice, I’m taking plenty of time in developing the “3 scenes” that occur before the novel begins. It’s amazing how clear the story is forming itself as I follow this process.

    Thanks for a great post!



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:43 pm

      Hello, dear Ron. I am so glad you are finding her book helpful too! I also worked on those three foundation scenes . . . normally I am too impatient to follow instructions like that, but this time, I behaved myself and I see how important it was/is.

      Thanks for sharing your character’s myth/misbelief too. I find it so helpful to see others’ examples.

      Thank YOU, Ron, for your always-helpful comments.



  8. Erin Bartels on September 14, 2016 at 1:06 pm

    There are a number of misbeliefs driving the protag in my WIP, but I think the overarching one is this: “The world acts upon me.” The truth? “I also act upon the world.”

    In her own story she sees herself as the protagonist, and often the victim (partly the result of a family myth she internalized from her mother, partly because social convention paints her as one). What she comes to realize is that in someone else’s story she is actually the antagonist. She moves from being focused on what has been done TO HER to what she has done TO OTHERS. In grammatical terms, her internal arc is moving from object to subject, and realizing that, as the subject, she has incredible power, for both good and ill, to act upon others. It’s about her putting aside blame when it comes to what someone did to her and taking responsibility for something she did to someone else.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:47 pm

      Hi Erin,

      Thank you for sharing your protagonist’s journey from darkness to understanding. I especially love this sentence:
      “What she comes to realize is that in someone else’s story she is actually the antagonist.”
      I have a relative (as I am sure most of us do) who desperately needs to read your book and learn this lesson … though I suppose a victim typically doesn’t see herself as a victim. It’s the perfect misbelief!

      Happy writing, Erin. I am grateful for your addition to this conversation.



    • CK Wallis on September 14, 2016 at 11:36 pm

      Wow, Erin, I want to read this–sounds like my kind of book.



    • Luna Saint Claire on June 20, 2017 at 1:04 pm

      I would love to read this book!



  9. Barry Knister on September 14, 2016 at 3:04 pm

    It’s impossible for me to read today’s post without applying the idea of guiding principles/formative ideas (here ennobled as “myths”) in terms of how they relate to writers themselves. What I see in the post AND the comments is a great yearning to believe, specifically in the mythic power of theories of narrative development to work miracles.
    I don’t question the practical advantage of believing in a holy book to help guide one’s life, or of a craft book to help one develop as a fiction writer. But in both cases, we are talking about myths. They don’t gain a following–believers–without speaking to real needs. But unquestioning acceptance is the way of the zealot, the person hungry for structure and guidance.
    In studying craft, I think that’s a good thing for writers to remember.



    • Sarah Callender on September 14, 2016 at 3:52 pm

      Hi Barry,

      I especially enjoyed this comment … it keeps us all honest. As for this point: “But unquestioning acceptance is the way of the zealot, the person hungry for structure and guidance. In studying craft, I think that’s a good thing for writers to remember.” I agree wholeheartedly.

      This book is unique in that it helped me understand how to understand my characters. It didn’t, as some books do, teach me a formula that would help me build a story. It helped me see what I need to know about my characters. This knowledge really does set the story in motion.

      Absolutely, some craft books are silly (Write a Novel in 22 Steps!). This craft book is not at all like that, at least in my opinion. I’d be curious to know what you think of it.

      Thanks for this refreshing reminder!



  10. Sara L. on September 14, 2016 at 3:53 pm

    Confession: I geek out about false beliefs. I love seeing characters question a myth or lie they believe about themselves or the world because of how the story’s events impact them. It really makes the character’s arc / internal journey more compelling and the story more memorable. And, it’s something I’ve made sure to do with my own WIP, so this post was right up my alley. :)

    I’ve seen Lisa Cron’s book mentioned a couple times recently. Maybe I’ll have to take a look at it…

    Thanks for writing this, Sarah!



    • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 12:36 am

      Thanks, Sara, for your comment. It’s always great to hear from another Sara/h.

      I totally geek out when I get to eavesdrop on people, and when I was writing this post, it occurred to me that I like eavesdropping partly because I like thinking and wondering why people do what they do. And don’t you think they do what they do, partly, because of myths and lies? It’s great that you were able to figure this out all on your own. I needed Lisa C.

      Happy writing to you, Sara!



  11. Tom Bentley on September 14, 2016 at 4:00 pm

    Sarah, I’m going to have to get Lisa’s book—so much praise can’t be the result of a myth. My WIP’s main character’s myth is that he is a besotted nebbish who can’t ever make a difference. Until he does—adios, myth.

    But what’s this about the Roadrunner not being catchable? He just hasn’t been catchable YET. [Wile E., eat more spinach.]



    • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 12:49 am

      Oh, how I hope the title of your novel will be The Besotted Nebbish. Consider it if you haven’t already done so?

      I do love your nebbish’s myth . . . something most of us can relate to for sure.

      Re: Wile E., you are absolutely right. I am usually so good at hoping and believing in people, especially when someone or some coyote is trying to achieve something difficult. I don’t know why I was so critical and hopeless. Thank you for your gentle reminder.

      Spinach!



  12. Bronwen Jones on September 14, 2016 at 4:17 pm

    Thank you for your excellent post, Sarah. Myth has a way of grabbing me from inside and stilling by busy mind while things mythical take me off on a magic carpet ride inside myself. Great post and great comments above.



    • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 9:32 am

      Thank you, Bronwen. I love the image of your mythical magic carpet ride. And you are right about the quality of the comments. It’s one of my favorite parts of WU. Happy writing to you!



  13. Beth Havey on September 14, 2016 at 5:16 pm

    Love your post, Sarah, as I recently read Lisa’s book and it truly changed how I LOOKED at my WIP. I actually had all the elements that she referenced in STORY GENIUS, I just didn’t realize it. Her text helped me to go back and tidy up some story issues so that the misbelief of my character truly works and so that I drop references to it as I go. It’s true that often there are many so-called “craft” books out there that I just shake my head and say, no thank you. But not this one.



    • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 9:35 am

      Yep, I am with you on that, Beth. It’s funny . . . I didn’t even really think of this as a craft book until Barry K. raised the point in his comment. To me it feels like a “brain science” book. I’m glad you also felt it was worthwhile.

      And, I am jealous that you already had all of the components of myth and misbelief. I think novel writing is a lot harder for me than it is for many of the WU-ers. Sigh. I’ll get it, but I’m sure a slow learner. Thanks for taking the time to comment. Best of lucky in your WIP!
      :)



  14. Brenda on September 14, 2016 at 10:28 pm

    Thanks for this post–as I was reading, it triggered a small brainstorm on one of the novels I’m working on.

    Thanks also for the reminder on Lisa C’s book–I had purchased it previously but life has been getting in the way and I haven’t had time to finish it. I need to bring that back up on my task list. Sounds like lots of folks are getting some good education and inspiration on this.



    • Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 9:39 am

      Yes, Brenda. I am so happy to see that I am not alone in finding this book so helpful. And aren’t those mini brainstorms fantastic? You never know when one will hit … part of the magic of writing I suppose.

      Best of luck with your novel/s. I’m impressed you can manage more than one at a time. You must have one of those brains that can really compartmentalize . . . I’d pay good money for that kind of brain. :)



  15. C.S. Kinnaird on September 14, 2016 at 11:41 pm

    I think the most difficult myths to deal with are those that we tell ourselves. Even the ones that seem positive, may actually be harmful in that they are warping reality for us, instead of helping us to think realistically.

    I like thinking about what myths my MCs believe in my WIP. I’ll have to think on this…

    Myths that come to mind are Piglet’s belief that he is small and helpless, or Pooh’s lackadaisical ways in believing everything is OK, in children’s myths that parents are perfect, until they see that they aren’t…

    But yes, the good myths. I liked that comment on it earlier. We share in good myths we read in stories. Harry Potter, love conquers all, good always has that weapon that evil does not understand. This myth helps propel Harry Potter readers to be loving, even to those who are angry, sad, anxious, etc. – because kindness can make all the difference, as we see Harry does for Neville and Luna, and no one does for Tom Marvolo Riddle – unkindness and lack of love created Voldemort out of young Tom.



  16. Sarah Callender on September 15, 2016 at 9:44 am

    Oh, such great comments, C.S. Thank you! You are absolutely right about the myths in the Pooh series. Poor Eeyore. And Tigger! Would he not be so bouncy had his parents not referred to him as The Bouncy One in the Family?

    And great examples from Harry Potter. Your examples remind me of the distinction people make about American films and foreign films . . . how films made by Hollywood nearly always have happy-ish endings whereas foreign films can leave us with the reminder that yeah, sometimes things just don’t work out for the best. Does this mean Americans rely on myth (or at least are comforted by it) more than other cultures and countries do?

    Thank you for making me think this morning!