One of the search terms used to find this site is fairy tale story ideas. I’ve been using fairy tales as inspiration for many years. I like using the formula: fairy tale + paranormal element = supernatural fairy tale. Sometimes I even give myself an extra challenge to help inspire me; a certain genre, a picture, fairy tale moral, etc.
Some years ago (about 7) I started a blog called Supernatural Fairy Tales. One of the things I used it for was to challenge myself. At the beginning of the month I would announce my supernatural fairy tale challenge, and by the end of the month, I had my short story posted. As a result I have two fairy tale novels (which were based on my short stories) and over 20 short stories – 9 of which I loved and published as a collection, and lots of poems.
I thought it might be fun to share these story starters with others who are interested in a writing challenge. And where better than where my fairy tale journey began – on my blog, Supernatural Fairy Tales - which has sat patiently awaiting my return.
There are three number generators: one to pick your fairy tale, one to pick your paranormal element, and one to pick an extra little challenge – just follow the links to your picks and then let your imagination take it from there.
I used it myself and this is my story starter: Fairy Tale: The Fisherman and His Wife – Paranormal Element: Witch/Warlock – Extra Challenge: Genre Steampunk. This ought to be interesting…
Love and Laughter,
“I use to be Snow White, but I drifted.” Mae West
“If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.” Albert Einstein
“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” C.S. Lewis
“Every man’s life is a fairy tale, written by God’s fingers.” Hans Christian Andersen
“you see the magic in a fairy tale, you can face the future” Danielle Steel
“Fear isn’t so difficult to understand. After all, weren’t we all frightened as children? Nothing has changed since Little Red Riding Hood faced the big bad wolf. What frightens us today is exactly the same sort of thing that frightened us yesterday. It’s just a different wolf. This fright complex is rooted in every individual.” Alfred Hitchcock
“The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in.” W.H. Auden
“In a utilitarian age, of all other times, it is a matter of grave importance that fairy tales should be respected.” Charles Dickens
Beauty and the Beast + Zombies =
To Hell With, Until Death Do We Part
A fun little supernatural fairy tale
By Dorlana Vann
She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, loosening her jaw, before she spoke. “You can’t be serious. Marriage is no longer something we can consider.”
He stood far away, at the other end of the long, formal dining room table. She couldn’t believe how handsome he looked now: tall, regal.
“I love you,” he said. “I want you to be my wife.”
She wasn’t sure if the rancid taste was from the meal she’d just ate or her own tongue. “I know you love me. I love you, too. But we have to face facts. You have to accept this. You shouldn’t even be feeding me. Look at me. What kind of bride would I be?”
“A beautiful one. When I was beastly, you saw something inside me and loved me for me. I love you for you. I know who you are on the inside.”
“But I’m not like you. You were cursed by a witch. I was bit by a––”
“Doesn’t matter.” He slammed his fist down on the table, making everything on it jolt. “If I have to, I’ll use every last cent I have to find a cure.”
“You’re not listening to me.” She tried to stand up but the chains around waist stopped her. It took a second to remember why she was chained to a chair. Oh yeah, that’s right; dinner had taken a little too long last night. When she was hungry, nothing else fit in her head. If it hadn’t been for the butler with the taser, they wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. “Sweetheart,” she said sweetly, trying to calm him, “There’s no cure for dead.”
“Maybe one of my tears, or a potion of some sort … or maybe a kiss.”
“Right,” she said with a roll of her eyes. They stuck like that for a second until she shook her head. “You’re going to kiss me? Do I even have lips, anymore?” Just as she pushed out her tongue to feel for lips, a twinge in her head stopped her. What was she doing?
“There’s got to be something. But first, we will get married.” He walked beside the table toward her, stopping halfway, a hint of fear in his eyes.
The fact that he was obviously scared of her didn’t upset her, didn’t really faze her. Something else came to mind. Hunger. The hunger didn’t feel the way it had when she’d been alive. This hunger was in her head. It rumbled, it stirred, it wanted, it hurt …
But she’d just ate an entire plate of… Who? Where was the maid? Had he …? The sudden spasm in her head caused her to let out a moan.
He was saying, “Sure we can’t really have a honeymoon right now. We’ll postpone it until later, when you’re better. But please let me prove my love and devotion to you. To hell with til death do we part.”
It had been a delicate, light meal tonight. She tried to remember how many more maids were in the house. A series of intense, sharp pain ricocheted inside her head. She held onto it with both hands for a second and closed her eyes. And then her brain pulsed and rumbled. Wait? What was this house? Who lived here anyway? When she looked again, the strange man was closer, so close and so fresh. She sniffed the air. All she wanted was one little taste, one little nibble.
“Right after the ceremony, I will hire the best researchers on the planet …”
She tried to get up, but for some reason she couldn’t move. She tried again, and again, and again. The hunger pains moved down to behind her eyes making her have to squint to see the beautiful meal. It had such a nice sized head.
“So? What do you say? Will you marry me?”
The food was right there in front of her now. Maybe if she stretched out her arms as far as she could, she’d be able to reach it. All she needed was a one bite to make this unbearable torture end.
“Oh, Beauty. I don’t know. But you did just eat, so I guess one hug, to seal the deal, would be okay …”
My inspiration for this poem was the Russian fairy tale Morozko (Old Man Winter). This was my first and only attempt at a Sonnet. (June 2007)
You’re a vision in white; lightly sun-kissed.
Your touch can be soft and your rhythm slow.
You take my breath away with your crispness.
Your name echoes with the breeze, Morozko.
I met you in the bitter woods that day.
Your trick question I answered with the truth.
Please tell me, what was I suppose to say?
To blatantly lie would have been uncouth.
Your mood changes from slightly cool to harsh.
Your nature is biting; naturally cruel.
Your icy winds went straight through my cold heart.
You gave me chilling death, my sister jewels.
Respect Old Man Winter, father would say.
I’ll pay my respects…in the month of May.