The Power of Story
By Juliet Marillier | January 11, 2023 |
Greetings for the New Year, all! In 2023 I’m presenting a new series for WU, exploring how walking ancient pathways, physical or metaphorical, can strengthen writers in an age when humankind sometimes seems bent on destroying not only itself, but also the precious and beautiful natural world of which we are a part. I’ll build the series around the philosophies that guide me in life and in artistic practice. These owe a significant amount to my membership of a druid order, OBOD. But I am no spiritual leader. I’m an ordinary woman, I’m a writer, and I’m on a journey. The way is sometimes steep and stony, taking a toll on the bravest traveller. And it’s sometimes broad and sun-kissed, inviting the wayfarer to sprint, dance, or enjoy a quiet stroll with body and mind at ease. I hold out a hand and invite you to walk with me awhile.
We’ve been through a turbulent few years, and the dark clouds are still hanging over our world. Climate change, the pandemic, war, political instability, leaders held back from meaningful action by their own blinkered focus or by political systems that no longer seem adequate to deal with the challenges we face … I don’t know about you, but the weight of all that, and the feeling of powerlessness it brings, sometimes make it hard for me to keep on writing, let alone write the kind of fiction I usually love to create, stories in which characters can face some pretty grim challenges on their physical or psychological journeys, but which end, at the very least, with a note of learning, redemption and/or hope. Whether a story is set in the world as we know it, or in a different time, or in an invented world rich with magic, I present my characters with challenges we all know: the struggle to be brave, to be part of a community, to take meaningful action or to grow beyond prejudice. To own our true voice; to be worthy of love; to find the courage to walk away. When the world teeters on the brink of disaster, a storyteller must delve deep to uncover that note of hope.
I often wonder if the ability to tell stories is an inherited quality, something in the DNA. My ancestry has Celtic and pre-Celtic roots, and I think of myself as one link in a long line of storytellers. I imagine a time when my antecedents lived in a subsistence society, in which the patterns of the natural world – the changing seasons, the vagaries of the weather – played a major part in the survival of the tribe. A deep understanding of nature was vital to that society, and that included dealing with disasters such as fire, flood, famine and plague. In such a culture, oral storytelling around the fire at day’s end performed several functions. Entertainment, yes. Some of the silliest and funniest stories may have been invented to keep folk’s spirits up – to unite the group in laughter. But storytelling also teaches life lessons, presenting them in a way that engages and holds the interest of listeners. So, through the tales with their trappings of the bizarre and magical, their monsters and gods, their enchantments and curses, folk are held in a sort of spell, and emerge from it with a better understanding of day to day challenges. Alongside sheer escapism, the stories convey lessons in tolerance, in sharing, in kindness, in courage.
Then there are stories told for healing: healing the wounded spirit; healing rifts between folk; easing the pathway through illness or injury. As a writer of historical fantasy, I’ve become more and more aware that this is still a function of storytelling. Few things make me happier than to hear from a reader who has gained insight or comfort or companionship in dark times from one of my novels. My books have accompanied readers to hospital; been their companions when far from home; assisted in therapy groups. When I hear of this, I feel akin to the storyteller by the fire, spinning tales in the knowledge that someone in the tribe needs a particular kind of solace, passed on as a story of wonder, an adventure or strange experience into which they are drawn almost unaware. Ever sat down to read a book and completely lost yourself within the pages? It’s a bit like that.
A wonderful thing about the oral tradition – think fairy tales, folklore, myths and legends – is that every time a story is told, it changes just a little. Every new storyteller develops their own version. As time passes and the culture changes, the story adapts itself to the new environment, the new listeners, the new understanding. Yes, some of those tales are eventually written down, published, and perhaps become best known in one particular form. But they continue to grow and develop and shape themselves to society’s changes. Look at the recent increase in adult fiction with a mythical or fairy tale framework, in particular novels in which the women of those traditional stories finally get their voice. Madeline Miller’s Circe and Claire North’s recently published Ithaca are both brilliant novels that rework Greek mythology, placing women centre stage. These authors use the ancient source material to develop something new, powerful, and entirely relevant to today’s reader and today’s society, while never stripping away the magic.
But wait, you say – isn’t this relevant only for those who write fiction with that mythical or fairy tale note? What about the rest of us, the poets, the biographers, the journalists, the writers of thrillers, crime fiction, romance? My answer is, whatever you are writing, the underlying lessons are the same. You are a writer. You have a story to tell. You have something worthwhile to say. What you’ve already learned on your journey will play a part in what you write, one way or another. And your writing has a job to do: entertainment, teaching, healing, passing on wisdom or passion or comfort. Sometimes you’ll stumble. I know I have walked the path unsteadily during these last few years. Sometimes you’ll dance ahead in the sunlight. Be glad you are part of WU’s wonderful community of writers, where a helping hand is never far away. Feel blessed that you are that powerful human being, a storyteller.
In the spirit of writers helping writers, please feel free to share your best piece of practical advice as we step into a potentially challenging 2023.
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
Juliet is currently working on a two-book fantasy series. The first book in this duology, The Amber Owl, will be published by New Dawn in February 2025.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.
Wow, Juliet. I can’t imagine a message I needed to hear more than this:
“You are a writer. You have a story to tell. You have something worthwhile to say. What you’ve already learned on your journey will play a part in what you write, one way or another. And your writing has a job to do…”
In the wake of releasing a book, it can feel like the various currents are tugging me in every possible direction but the one that matters. I have this feeling, though, deep inside. A voice that keeps telling me, just finish the story. The rest is ephemeral, it’ll take care of itself. Sort of the writerly Dory mantra to “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.”
I love this essay! I need to read your heartening words, so I’m delighted by the concept of the series and I can’t wait for more. Thank you!
Vaughn, I like your “just keep swimming.”
Thank you, Vaughn, I’m so glad this resonated with you. Yes, listening for that inner voice is hard sometimes, but it tells the truth!
Hi Juliet: I like your ” think fairy tales, folklore, myths and legends” advice. I write mostly supernatural mysteries (ghost stories) but recently wrote a fairy tale for adults, which actually turned out to be a novelette at 8000 words. This fairy tale genre was entirely new to me because of the fantasy aspect of the story. The fairy tale magazine market is fairly small, and I was quite discouraged at first about where to submit it. But I sold the fairy tale to an online magazine and it was published this month. At the same time, I’ve been working on a novel that is both supernatural with a lot of magickal powers. I’d like to ask, is there such a genre as “supernatural fantasy”? Because my WIP novel contains both ghosts, witches, and natural magick. I am looking forward to reading your novels! Thank you for a great post today.
Your novel sounds great, Paula. There are certainly a few fantasy stories around that could be called supernatural fantasy ie combining ghosts with other magical elements (I did this myself in my novel Heart’s Blood, a Beauty and the Beast retelling.) Not sure if it’s an official genre! Good luck with finishing your novel.
Thank you for this beautiful post, Juliet. The past few years have left the world a different place, but where the world remains unchanged for me is in the woods. I’m fortunate to have a place nearby where I can go and walk and listen. The trees, even the young ones, have a presence that feels ancient and true. When I’m scattered, I can always find balance and solace there. I get a reminder that the man made wold is always in flux, but that the more enduring things run right beneath our feet. Connection, reciprocity, endurance, love.Those things are what I tend to read and write about. And while I seek out these themes in stories, I also find them in unexpected places – in a biography of Winston Churchill or at my kitchen table over coffee with a friend. I’ve chosen the same word as a guide for this year as I did for last year. Resilience. Wishing you a light-filled New Year.
Thank you for the lovely wise comment, Susan! I’ll write about the power of nature later in the series – walking in beautiful places is so good for body and spirit. And yes, there are those surprising insights that can be found in the everyday. I wish you a peaceful and creative 2023.
Good morning, Juliet….so lovely, like you. My husband is Irish and loves to explore his Celtic heritage, which can be amusing, but then, when you look deeply, yes….it is meaningful. Last night I read Claire Keegan’s FOSTER. I had already read SMALL THINGS LIKE THESE. Keegan brings you to the “holy sod” which is not so holy, her language musical and touching. There is a scene when you want to weep for the child, knowing the love of the foster parent will never begin to be with her throughout. And then I began to remember visiting New Grange, in Ireland, the faith of a people, the inspiration to believe and hope. My comment this morning is filled with respect for what you write and its origins. THAT is important to each word as it comes upon the page.
New Grange is amazing. The whole Boyne valley is full of magic!!
Susan, thanks for this. We were in Ireland for a week, from one end of that lovely country to another. I would love to go back. Recommend reading FOSTER by Claire Keegan. Ah, the Irish.
Hi Elizabeth! Claire Keegan’s books are wonderful, aren’t they – writing that seems simple on the surface, but packs a big emotional punch. You might try reading HAVEN by Emma Donoghue – another story with Irish connections, quite a confronting read in places but so brilliantly written, with a deep awareness of both place and characters. It’s very intense.Thank you for your very generous comment on my post – I’m happy this has connected with you and others.
Juliet:
It’s fitting that your post come in the middle of winter when, for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere at least, the urge to huddle ’round the fire and tell tales is especially strong. It’s the same instinct that inspired the tradition of telling ghosts stories at Yuletide — and that keeps bees swarming around the hive.
Christine, I love the image your post conjures up! Here in Australia it’s midsummer and baking hot in my area. The ghosts are probably hiding away in whatever shady corners they can find. But the bees are everywhere!
“Whatever fortune sends we master it all
by bearing it all, we must!”
— Virgil, The Aeneid, 5.780, trans Fagles
Juliet, I’m so glad you are devoting time to this new series for WU in 2023. From the beginning of my fantasy fiction writing journey your stories and wisdom have inspired me so. Thank heaven for old pathways to tread. They whisper that though humans have never been here before neither the perils nor the joys are new. My practical practice is to take time out for awe. This morning as soon as the winds died down dozens of finches perched on a naked maple in my garden, spying out areas that might hide seeds, heedless of drenching rain. Awe that I sipped coffee still warm and dry in a kitchen. Awe they reminded me we all adapt to survive. Awe that my garden is central to their world and they were watching for monster me to appear raining sunflower and millet, a dependency I had invited. Awe at my responsibility and the sense we are part of something more. And when if one fles into my windows it will remind me life is fleeting and break my heart. Now there is a mother squirrel showing her baby how to taunt my dog without losing all of its tail while scavenging seeds (One third is gone. My dog’s prey drive is strong. But but the squirrels have learned how to work together to distract and her One teases while three in different corners feast.) These simple forages into awe in others help me reimagine myself and ground me in the wider world.
I stalled out on my WIP in December when I must revisit the beginning and reset conditions for the end. So I reread Virgil’s Aeneid, an inspiration for my story-world, hunting down moments and ideas that helped set me on this path. And after much dreaming (awake and asleep) I found my hill gear. The Old Ways are the path.
Fond best wishes for Writing On in 2023.
Torrie
Lovely to hear from you, Torrie! Beautiful wise comment, and I love your steps towards finding your hill gear again. My dogs help me a lot (when they’re not suggesting I curl up and nap with them instead of trying to write.) Nature here has its wonders, even in the middle of a hot Australian summer. A new generation of magpies visiting the garden to find tasty morsels in the newly-watered lawn. Jacarandas and flame trees in beautiful bloom.
All good wishes back to you – I hope you have a creative year.
You are a creator, not a reporter.
You do bring hope Juliet! to this poet and the world around her. And although, as the saying goes poets love death and commas! I have learned through your writing that if, no matter the sorrow, I bring truth as well then there is always a better self to be found. I live where I can invite all creatures, two and four legged into a great Dream. That is of peace. So that they become not “hopeless ambassadors” as Mary Oliver poignantly once said, but enchanters of a better world.
Juliet, I’d be happy (personally) if all you ever put into the world was short story collections — it’s easier in many ways than a novel to read, as it’s sort of possible to just finish that current story and go and do something else (sorry, it’s sort of hard to get the wording right for something that’s a sort of image-plus-feeling), there’s less of a demand for a follow-up tale (personally I would have twisted the publisher’s arm to get Stela’s tale told, but that’s my viking blood), and also — sorry– if the author dies there’s less likely to be the issues of a novel being published half-done and/or badly edited by some well-meaning third party (a la Marion Zimmer Bradley…).
Blessings on you and your lovely dog(s).
Oh, and by the way, where do you get your herb-lore from? I’ve learned a lot of bits and pieces from your works that I had not read in any of the books of magical herb use that I had. (pagan books…I was into Wicca for a while, then found my own path).
Hi Rhiannon. It’s looking as if I will have a short story collection out in late 2024, if all goes to plan – there might even be something featuring Stela in there. I’m holding back on publicising any of my projects too early, now that I’ve seen how much disappointment a change of plan can cause for readers. As a reader, I prefer novels, I guess because I like to lose myself in the story. But I also enjoy well-crafted short fiction.
Herb lore: back when I was writing Sevenwaters I relied a lot on A Druid’s Herbal by Ellen Evert Hopman. Another useful book by the same author is Tree Medicine, Tree Magic. Also Tree Wisdom by Jacqueline Memory Paterson, Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbe by Scott Cunningham, and Dragon’s Blood and Willow Bark: the Mysteries of Medieval Medicine by Toni Mount. I hope that’s useful. I also use a lot of more general gardening and botanical books.
Dear Juliet,
I will wait as long as it takes to read another book of yours.
I read all of your books during the pandemic. They took me away to other amazing worlds full of courage, lessons of bravery and strength and painted pictures in my mind with every turn if the page.
I will never part with my collection if your wonderful works.
Much love and thanks to you for sharing your gift.
Jo Turner