Once Upon a Time: New Fairy Tales Paperback(105)

Lizzie helped me during that trying time. She came daily with

bread and milk and honey, and cleaned my house for me, to save me

the work while I tended to my husband. His passing was slow at first, and then he ran toward his end very quickly.

The house and his hearth were sold afterward. I went to live again in the house where Lizzie’s parents had once raised us. They were

gone by then, too, and Lizzie said it would be better if my children and I were closer, so she could look in on me more often.

She’d bring her own children with her, to play with my Tom and

Lily, and we would sew together and try not to speak of the past.

Only the present, only daily items and routines would be topics. Any hint of love long past, of passion hidden for the sake of others, and Lizzie would gather up her things and leave.

Sometimes she’d bring her children over and ask me to look after

them when she needed to go into town for something. It was during

those times that I would tell them the story of the goblin glen, about how my sister had stood in deadly peril to do me good, to save me from an awful fate. The children would listen, rapt and eager to hear the parts about the goblins, and about the fruits, and the music, and the dancing. And afterward they’d run off to play under the shadows of the weeping willow at the bottom of the garden, where once I tried to plant a peach stone out of desperation.

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? Eat Me, Drink Me, Love Me ?

After they were off on their own, I would weep, silently, for having lied to them. The entire tale I told was true, yet none of it was honest.

But the stories one tells children always mean: Life will be happy, my dear ones, even though you will struggle within the world’s fierce embrace.

When they grow older, I decided long ago—as the days, months,

and years come to pass—I will tell them a different story. A story with a good moral of its own to benefit them when they are ready. I will tell them everything they need to know about this world to find or make their happy endings. And if the world cannot provide them with the love they require for happiness, I will tell them to leave it, to join another if one is ever offered. I will tell them to not go back up the path to what they already know. Eat, drink, love without caution.

Within this world’s fierce embrace, they need not struggle so.

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Christopher Barzak is the author of the Crawford Fantasy Award-winning novel, One for Sorrow, which is currently being made into the feature film Jamie Marks is Dead. His second book, The Love We Share Without Knowing, was a finalist for the Nebula and Tiptree Awards.

His short fiction has appeared in a variety of venues, including

Asimov’s Science Fiction, Realms of Fantasy, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, and several “year’s best” anthologies His most recent books are Birds and Birthdays, a collection of surrealist fantasy stories, and Before and Afterlives, a collection of supernatural fantasies. He grew up in rural Ohio, has lived in California and Michigan, and has taught English in suburban and rural communities outside of Tokyo, Japan. Currently he teaches at Youngstown State University.

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“The Mirror Tells All” was inspired during a lecture at a

fairy tale conference I attended in which “Snow White”

was described as a story about mother-daughter competition. My

immediately reaction was, yes, but what if it isn’t? The voice of a young woman flitted through my mind, a young woman with a different interpretation. That is the beauty of fairy tales—they can be read in any number of ways, and the meanings that can be culled from them are as relevant now as they were when the stories were

first written. For me, “Little Snow White” is a story of triumph in the face of those who would, by envy or other means, try to stifle a young woman’s spirit.

Erzebet Yellowboy

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The Mirror Tells All


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Erzebet YellowBoy


Listen. Here’s the story you wouldn’t let me tell.

I know, I know. You’re dying. Leave you to it. Let you rest in peace. You’ll have all the peace you need, in a day or two. That’s what the doctor told me, anyway. Did he tell you that? No? Oh well. I’m sure he’ll get around to it eventually.

I read somewhere the other day that this story is about competition.