Response to a critic re my story Ebony and the Auntie of the Starlight a Caribbean Cinderella: symbolism and sensitivities

 

I posted a promo about Ebony and the Auntie of the Starlight, a Caribbean Cinderella story, on Facebook. I must admit it was not the most brilliantly written promo. It referred to Ebony being in a children’s home and having no future. This critic took me to task, asking how would children from children’s homes feel should they read that. I replied giving the exact words from the text (which she had not yet read). Ebony concludes, ‘People say that children from children’s homes have no future.’  I explained that I had very carefully thought about placing Ebony in a children’s home, and that eventually when Ebony comes into her own, (becomes a manager at the spice factory), she invites other girls from the children’s home to work at the factory and she trains them. Independence for Ebony and for the other girls as well! I thanked her very much for being interested enough to want to comment and to take the time to do so, and said.

 I welcome the challenge posed by the pitfalls of relevant material for our children, as all our local writers do. If this book, even though it is fantasy, makes people think more about the children in children's homes, realise they are of great value (in that we are all valuable, our lives are valuable, no matter where we come from or how we got here), and full of promise, then it will have accomplished something.

 I hoped that when she read the story she would let me know if/ how well the creating of this Caribbean Cinderella story works.

Some  things stand out.

1.    One should write well thought out promos.

2.    If a foreigner had written about children’s homes in a children’s book, no one would mind or even notice. Of course, foreign places are very big; the children’s home could be anywhere in the foreign land, so it never becomes personal or painful. 

3.    Yet, it is good that people notice. And this is why I say  that  writers of children’s stories in small developing nations, especially post colonial countries, have a great responsibility. Some people think writing a children’s book, is no big thing. Not true, guys. A good children’s book must entertain, but the writer must also be aware of the sensitivities of the society in which the story is set, and consequently, the values embedded in the story. Stories are never value free. Yet one must never appear to be preaching as that spoils the story.  

So I want to use this post to talk about the thought processes that went into this story. Many of them will not be evident to our child or adult readers, but they are important nonetheless, because they may stay with the reader long after the story has been read. 

1.    I wanted to write a story in which the Auntie of the Starlight would again play a role. She first appeared in a Christmas story, “Once Upon a Starlight”, written by me and published in a book “Big River and Other Stories”  by the Children Writers Circle. In response to my wish, she requested to appear in this Cinderella rewrite.

2.    The Cinderella character is called Ebony, to indicate a consciousness and celebration of our colour, and because I like Ebony trees when they bloom and promise rain. (Ebony trees appear in other children’s stories of mine.)

3.    It was a deliberate decision to place her in a children’s home. I didn’t think the term 'orphanage' would have much meaning to our children, but children’s homes tend to be in the news from time to time. They are perceived by many as a place of last resort for children. This is not necessarily so, but there is the perception that there is no future there. The story then sets out to show that there can be a future. And note,  Ebony is not ill-treated in the children’s home.

4.   The stepmother character is replaced by Mrs. Redeyeness (‘red eye’ being a term for envy in Jamaica). Mrs. Redeyeness, who lives near to the children’s home, takes pity on Ebony, and invites her to her home to play with her daughters. She does this only to impress people that she is kindhearted. The stepsister characters are Mrs. Redeyeness’ two daughters; not wicked, just spoilt and indulged. They are not really ugly, but their mean-spirited thoughts show on their faces, making them appear ugly. (Perhaps a warning to tell children this can happen. Oh, yes, it can. A cautionary tale?)

5.    I make Ebony into our version of the fairy tale princess.

 

And then Ebony began to grow into a young woman.    . . . her eyes,  were  big and brown and beautiful like burnt sugar in her face, which was the colour of rich chocolate. Her black hair had grown long over the years. She combed it with scented oils into six plaits, then she put the plaits up and secured them with the tortoiseshell clip. The clip flashed like magic in the sunshine, and the plaits fell like a spray of palm leaves all around her head.  . . . when she smiled it made people feel happy, as if gentle breezes were blowing.

6.    Mrs. Redeyeness now shows her true colours.

 

  Mrs. Redeyeness was overcome with envy that Ebony had become a beautiful girl and the envy turned to boiling anger. (Of course, people like that exist.)

      So Mrs. Redeyeness invites to Ebony to come and live with her. Ebony, feeling she has no future, goes.  Mrs. Redeyeness hates her for her beauty and kind nature, and hopes that she can hide her away from the world in the back of her house. ( Why? Pure bad mind! There are people like that. Wolf in sheep’s clothing.)
 

7.     Ebony becomes a drudge. Since there is no electricity in that part of the house ( surprise, surprise!) Ebony has to use all sorts of old-time Jamaican things - old time iron wood burning stove, coconut brush, sad irons and coal stove. (Chance for the children to hear about these things. And this does happen, you know. Decent kind-hearted people are taken advantage of, and some have so little self-confidence that they are complicit in their own sacrifice. Females who have been programmed to be nice have to take note of this.)

Mrs. Redeyeness is delighted that Ebony, who has no time to even comb her hair, is looking . . .a bit bedraggled. (Every now and then I like to use a word which is not one children will easily come across, but it’s so suitable. Bedraggled is one of those.)

Mrs. Redeyeness cackled to herself every time she looked at Ebony. "How bedraggled she looks. Ha! Ha! Bedraggled! Ha! Ha!”

8.   ( However, by this time, dear readers, I’ve just had about enough of Miss Ebony. I’m fed up with her. I can’t believe that she could be so ‘fool’. Can anything save her? I seriously consider not going any further with the story. I suspect that it is only Mr. Redeyeness’ malice, as shown in that excerpt, that forces me to continue the story.)

9.  Ebony, does not need a ball to meet her ‘prince’. Instead, there is going to be a parade for Independence. The parade is sponsored by the spice factory in the district. The heir to the spice factory has come home from his studies and everybody concludes that he will need a wife. All mothers get in gear. Everybody dressing up for the parade! The ‘ugly sisters get their costumes made by a dancehall  tailor. Ebony is sewing hers by hand. The sisters steal it and cut it up. They look even more ugly after doing this dastardly deed.

10.  Mrs. Redeyness, to make sure that Ebony cannot reach the parade, gives her a long list of Jamaican foods to prepare, (every Jamaican food you can think of and love, saltfish and ackee, bammies, fried dumplings, curry goat, jerk pork, etc.) No way she can finish in time to go to the parade.

11.  However, a starlight left on a windowsill where Ebony is cooling food, falls into the coal pot. And out of the wonderful starlight display, steps the Auntie of the Starlight. She is clearly as fed up with Ebony as I am, as she says, 

I was wondering how long it would take you to see that these people taking advantage of you.

     The Auntie of the Starlight gives Ebony three wishes ( of course) and sings a song with a lot of the names of Jamaican trees, as she works her magic:

 Mahoe, logwood, cedar, lignum vitae, mahogany, ebony,

Trees of the land of wood and water

Grant this wonderful wish to this daughter . . . 

12.  Ebony gets to go to the parade in a beautiful dress, but without glass slippers - not needed in the Caribbean. And no, she doesn’t need a coach either, or any of those things from the old fairy tale. Everybody is dancing: 

Dance to the Independence beat

Move your feet, . . .

 Along comes the parade with people dressed up as Jamaican spices, with the Spice Prince (Alfred) himself travelling on one of the floats. He sees Ebony and stops the parade! Everybody is in shock. He is attracted by her beauty, and her kindness and goodness, which he can see in her smile (at last her goodness begins to pay off).

13.   Mrs. Redeyeness, seeing that this could be a dangerous situation, invites them  back to her house, where she plies Alfred with all the various foods cooked by Ebony, and implies  that her daughters have cooked them. Alfred soon uncovers that lie, and  asks for Ebony’s hand in marriage, in spite of Mrs. Redeyeness shouting that Ebony has no family and is nobody. Alfred, seems to feel that one can make one’s future even if you don’t have great family credentials.  (Chalk one more point up for the inhabitants of children’s homes.)

14.   At this point Mrs. Redeyeness and her daughters throw themselves upon Ebony declaring their love, saying they cannot do without her. And for a moment Ebony wonders if they really, really love her. (I am in despair of her yet again, wondering if this silly girl is really going to believe them. This can happen, you see, if you’ve never been loved and feel a bit insecure.)

15.   She comes to her senses, however, and goes off to work for the ‘spice prince’ at the spice factory. Where does she live? Oh, it’s all very proper. She lives with his parents. He doesn’t live there. He has his own place (modern times). Soon she becomes a manager. She brings other young women from the children’s home to work there and trains them. As part of her wedding present she gets shares in the business.  (Now this is big time! Even I wouldn’t think of that. Independence! This is a totally modern girl. I worried if this might seem as if she was a gold digger, but I realized that she was just recognising her full worth to the business. And after all, Alfred offers them.)

Ebony has a lovely wedding with everybody there from the district and the children’s home, and the Auntie of the Starlight. Ebony and her Alfred dance the night away in true Caribbean fashion.  

So on this wonderful night, Ebony hitched the train of her wedding dress over her arm, and extended her other arm as she danced, sway, sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,  yo, yo, yo across the floor. And the Spice Prince took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves halfway up his arms and danced around her, sway, sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, yo, yo, yo.

 

Lovely illustration by Rachel Moss that so captures it.

You can still buy the book, if even just to find out if we do indeed discover who Ebony may be,  what her three wishes are, and if they come true, but hopefully, to enjoy the story, and tell me if the Caribbean flavour and the symbolism works.

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Ebony-Auntie-Starlight-Caribbean-Cinderella-ebook/dp/B00M7CY050

 

 

 

Amazing proofing - and a bit of magic

 My story  The Happiness Dress won an award from the Commonwealth  Foundation for the best children's story in 2011. I was greatly honoured and thrilled.  The Foundation published the stories in audio form,  to be distributed throughout the Commonwealth. It was left for the writers to find print publishers. I sought a publisher, thought I had found one, and then faced problems, which resulted in lost time, a couple of years really. So as not to feel totally helpless,  at the mercy of the vicissitudes of life, I  decided to publish The Happiness Dress as an e-book, to join my other children's e-books  on Amazon. Not making many sales really, but at least the book would be somewhere.

I figured that at the most I would just have one more read through of the book before telling the designer /illustrator to make a final copy for uploading to Amazon, when I suddenly found myself in Barbados visiting the grandchildren. Yes, suddenly, as in just like magic, and certainly there is a bit of  magic in this.  Do you believe in magic?

Having tried out another story (in the works) on the 'grands',  to what seemed like a positive reception, I became bolder, and thought I would show them other stories I had brought, a print out of Ebony and the Auntie of the Starlight, a Caribbean Cinderella story (already on Amazon) and The Happiness Dress. My nine year-old granddaughter declared Ebony interesting and humourous. It passed! The Happiness Dress, although below her age group (she's gobbling up chapter books), was next. She loved the illustrations, of course (like Ebony, done by Rachel Wade Moss).

Then: 

"Grandma, here's a mistake!"

"A what? No, there can't be a mistake. A lot of us read it. No, there's no mistake,"  the voice moving from shock to that indulgent adult tone you use when you don't want to discourage  a child who is showing initiative, but has got it wrong.

"Yes, there is,"  says a nine year-old Bajan (pet name for Barbadian) voice, carrying all the certainty with it of a country with a 98% literacy rate (or some impressive figure like that).

"Let me see," I say.

And there it is! An error! How do you miss an error in 500 words, spread across 24 pages? So many of us have read it. So, it's only a question mark, but still.

Then she finds another. Then she finds a page where she says, "Paragraphs!"

And, lo and behold! There it is, a page, a short page, where the paragraphs need revisiting, a nice publishing word for the 'paragraph them wrong'. By then I'm feeling pale and wan. (reference from English lit. in school).

It is only a matter of time before she tells me what I already know about the typeface. The distance between the apostrophe and the next letter (e.g. won' t) is too great. It will confuse young readers. The typeface must be changed. A whole heap of work is left on this book!

I have never claimed to be good at proofing. I like editing, but I always use a proofer, paying for the services of one out of my money if there has been no allowance made for it in a project. But still, how do you miss these errors in 500 words  and 24 pages?

Much praise is heaped upon my granddaughter. She suggests that she can do all proofing for me in the future.

Then my seven year-old grandson shouts that he has found an error.

"No, you haven't," we say.

After all, he is only seven, and the bright reader of chapter books has already 'shredded' the text.

"Yes!" he declares,  "Carolyne is spelt Carolyne in most places, but there is one which is spelt Caroline."

We are all struck dumb. He is quite right. That is even worse than question marks and paragraphs. His mother asks if he read the story. No, he hasn't. He just checked all the Carolynes ( standard proofing procedure,  but did we employ it for 500 words and 24 pages?) This is the boy who does Math exercises for fun, no doubt, hence the zeroing on the concept of checking one word throughout.

No, this is not an adoring Grandma post. I am not saying that my grandchildren are brilliant beyond words. I am not suggesting that you use your grandchildren for proofing, though it might not be a bad idea.  Rather, it's a post to warn you about the importance of proofing, even of 500 words; the challenge of  self-publishing - it is essential to use professionals even if you, yourself, are a professional, or perhaps because you are a professional, and too confident by far. (That's why you should also use an editor.) I tremble to think what might have happened, had I not unexpectedly (magically) come to Barbados. So now, do you believe in magic?

Also, I get a chance to tell you about the upcoming placing of The Happiness Dress on Amazon. However there will be more about that closer to the time.

"Once Upon A Starlight": A Christmas Story

And here we are again, guys; it's Christmas; it always catches us unawares although it comes every year.  As I said last year, I had wanted to write a new Christmas story, but what with one thing and another, I didn't, so here I am again putting up the same Christmas story, Once Upon a Starlight (with the illustrations I painted last year, when I had hoped eventually to break into the 'big time' of doing my own children's book illustrations.  Don't laugh!)  By the way, the illustrator who did the black and white images was Pat Lee. Last year I couldn't find her name.

 

However, there has been one additional experience with this story (first published in 1983 - in A Circle Book, The Big River and Other Stories) and that is, that I used it on a recent visit to a school and got a wonderful reception from the children. It still has relevance, or perhaps new relevance. (See my previous post to this one).

 

So, should I try to republish it as a book on its own? Hmm! Should I try to publish Ebony and the Auntie of the Starlight, a Caribbean Cinderella Story (now an e-book) as a print book, as some have suggested? Hmm! Should I continue in my efforts to get Things I Like published? Hmm! Hmm! And what about my Commonwealth prize winning story, The Happiness Dress, still stuck with a publisher? Hmm! Hmm! Hmm! And again, Hmm!

 

In the new year, I'll share with you my thoughts on  having e-books on Amazon versus/as well as possibilities for further print books. No, I have no plans up my sleeve. I'm just thinking. So please enjoy Once Upon a Starlight, and a Happy Christmas to all!

 

Once Upon a Starlight 

by Diane Browne

 

Angela pressed her face against the glass of the toy store window. She looked longingly at the chocolate-coloured doll with the tight black curls, dressed in a white blouse and frilly red skirt. Oh how she wanted that doll! But she knew that her parents couldn’t afford to buy it for her.

            It was almost Christmas. The store windows were draped with coloured paper streamers and shiny bits of tinsel. The sidewalk stalls had balloons, starlights and paper Christmas hats. The fruit vendors sat with their piles of pineapples, paw paws, oranges and shiny tangerines. And there was a tall Christmas tree in the park that shone with many coloured lights at night.

            Angela sighed as she turned away from the store window. Pushing her way through the crowds of excited Christmas shoppers, she tried to console herself. She could not have the doll, but she did have a paper bag with three starlights. They were not little starlights, but giant ones. Old Miss Hannah, who lived nearby, had given them to her because Angela had helped her to set up her stall.

            When Angela got home her father was sitting on the verandah. He had been out of work for some time and he looked very sad. Every day he went looking for work, but he couldn’t  find any. Her mother, who was sitting just inside the front door, was busy sewing; she was making clothes to sell to the stores. Angela’s little sister, Carol, ran to meet her.

            “What did you buy, Angela?” she called out  when she saw the paper bag.

            Angela showed her family the starlights and explained how she had got them. “I am going to light one each night until Christmas,”  she declared

            “I’m glad that you will have something for Christmas,” said her mother, with a sigh “There is no extra money for presents this year. The money I will get for this sewing will only be enough to buy us some food. I don’t even know if we will have enough to share with Miss Hannah. I know she is alone, and we always invite her to eat with us on Christmas Day ...but things have become so expensive. This has been a hard year.”

            Angela’s father looked even more sad.

            As soon as it was dark Angela went into the yard to light her first starlight. Carol watched from the front steps and squeezed her little hands together in excitement.

            Angela struck a match and placed it against the tip of the long starlight. A gentle Christmas breeze dimmed the flame of the match. Then as it flared again the starlight sparkled and crackled. Angela held it firmly as hundreds of little lights darted everywhere, like stars dancing away in the night.

            “Swing it around, Angela!” shouted Carol. “Make the lights spin!”

            Angela was just about to twirl the starlight in wide circles over her head, when she stopped. She blinked; she could not believe her eyes. There sitting on the top of the starlight was a little old lady, no bigger than a doctor bird. Her head was tied in a red and yellow bandana cloth, and she had on a bandana apron over a long blue cotton dress. Her black face was wrinkled and her eyes twinkled as brightly as the starlight sparkling around her.

            Angela’s heart pounded with fright.

            “Don’t be afraid,” said the little old lady. “I am the Auntie of the Starlight. It was kind of you to help miss Hannah to set up her stall, and I have come to reward you. Each evening as you light a starlight I will appear, and each time you may have a wish for Christmas. What is your first wish, Angela?”

            Angela trembled with anticipation as she thought about the doll in the store window. Then she remembered her father and how sad he had looked. I still have two other wishes, she said to herself. Maybe I can use this one for Daddy.

            “Can I wish for something for somebody else?” she asked in a whisper.

            “Of course,” replied the Auntie of the Starlight. “ They are your wishes. You can use them in any way that you want.”

            “Then I wish that Daddy could get a job,” said Angela breathlessly.

            The old lady tossed her head, showering sparkles of light all over the place. “You may have your wish,” she said.

            And before Angela could thank her, the starlight spluttered, and the old lady disappeared with the last little shimmering lights.

            “Oh, Angela, that was so pretty!” cried Carol.

            “Did you see her too?” said Angela.

            “See who?” asked Carol. “What are you talking about?”

            “Oh, nothing,” replied Angela, deciding that she must have imagined the whole thing.           The next day while Angela’s father went to look for work as usual, Angela helped her mother with the sewing.

            “I’m glad you can hem so well, Angela,”  her mother said.  “We must finish these today as tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I am depending on the money I get for them. Though, how I will mange to fill my next order, I don’t know. This old sewing machine is giving trouble and I’m sure it will cost a lot to fix it. I suppose I will just have to sew everything by hand. But that will take so long that maybe the store will give the orders to someone else.

            “They wouldn’t do that, Mummy,” said Angela reassuringly, though, to tell the truth, she was not at all sure that they wouldn’t.

            When Angela’s father came home that evening he looked quite different. He laughed happily as he exclaimed, “I’ve got a job! It’s at a new factory which needed extra help for Christmas, and if I work well the job will be permanent.”

            Angela’s mother smiled. “I’m so glad,” she said, “Angela needs shoes to got to school next term and my sewing machine needs fixing.”

            “Well,” replied her father, “I’ll have enough money for shoes, but that machine is too old now. They don’t even have parts for it anymore. You really need a new one, but I’ll have to work for some time before we can think of that.”

            “Yes, I  know ,” her mother said. “Anyway, now we can invite Miss Hannah to have dinner with us on Christmas Day.”

            Suddenly Angela realized that her first wish had come true. Perhaps she had not imagined the little old lady after all. Perhaps she would really see the Auntie of the Starlight again.

            Angela sat on the front steps waiting for it to get dark. At last the orange sun melted into the deep blue sky. Carol clapped her hands with excitement while Angela lit the second starlight. The breeze rustled through the leaves of the Christmas Bush as the starlight crackled and sparkled. And then just as before, there on its tip sat the Auntie of the Starlight.

            “Daddy got a job,” said Angela.

            “Of course he did,” replied the old lady. “Now what is your wish this time?”

            And just as Angela thought about the doll in the store window again, she remembered that her mother’s sewing machine was not working. Well, she said to herself, I still have my third wish. I’ll use that for the doll.

            “If you don’t mind,” she said to the old lady, “I’d like to use this wish for somebody else also.”

            “I don’t mind,” replied the Auntie of the Starlight. “They are your wishes.”

            “Okay, then,”  said Angela, “I’d like a sewing machine for Mummy.”

            The old lady tossed her head, showering sparkles of light all over the place. “You may have your wish,” she replied.

            “Thank you,” said Angela, and just as before, the starlight spluttered and the little old lady disappeared with the last little shimmering lights.

            Early next morning, Angela, her mother and Carol delivered the finished clothes to the store. Then they went to buy the food for Christmas Day. They bought some sorrel and ginger in the market to make the sorrel drink; they got sweet potatoes from a lady by the side of the road. Angela’s mother said that even a small ham was too expensive this year, so they bought a nice big chicken instead. She said Miss Hannah would probably bring a small Christmas pudding as usual. It would be a great Christmas after all.

That evening, just as Angela’s mother was crushing the ginger and Angela and Carol were picking the red sorrel, their father came home.

            “I have a surprise for you,”  he said to Angela’s mother with a big smile on his face. “One of the men at the factory knows a man who sells sewing machines. He will let us have one since I’m working, and I can pay him a little each week from my salary. And meanwhile you will have something to use.”

            There was a happy light in her mother’s eyes, and her father’s face shone with pride because once again he could help his family. Angela knew she had used her first two wishes well, and now on Christmas Eve she would make her final wish.

She could not stay still. She kept running out into the yard to look at the sky. Slowly, oh so slowly, it changed from a pale blue to gray streaked with pink.  At last it was dark.

            The two girls stood in the front yard. Angela took a box of matches from her pocket to light the starlight.    

            Suddenly Carol said, “Please, Angela, can I hold the starlight this time?”

            “No, you can’t!” replied Angela quickly. “You are too little. It might burn you.”

            “I’m big enough. I’ll be careful,” cried Carol. “I never got a chance to hold one before. Please, Angela, please! Let me hold it for just a little.”

            Angela thought about the doll. Then she looked at her sister. Her little body was trembling with excitement and her eyes pleaded for this chance.

            “All right,” sighed Angela, “ but just for a little. You must give it back to me when I tell you.”

            “Yes, I will. Thank you Angela,” Carol whispered.

            After all, Angela said to herself, it is long enough for both of us to have a turn at holding it. I will still have a chance to see the Auntie of the Starlight.

            The starlight burst into glittering lights as Carol held it tightly, her  face full of delight. The sparks flew in all directions, piercing the darkness like shooting stars, then disappearing like peenie wallies in the night.

            “This is the most beautiful starlight!” laughed Carol. “Just look at it, Angela!”

            Angela thought that this starlight did look even more brilliant  than the others. Then, just as she was about to take it from Carol, the starlight suddenly spluttered, and with a hissing sound the lights all died away. The Christmas breeze was now quite strong and Angela wondered if it had blown out the starlight.

            “Is it finished already?” asked Carol anxiously.

            “It can’t be,” replied Angela sharply, as she took it and looked at it carefully. But the starlight was already black and twisted. Angela fought back the tears as she struck match after match, trying to light it. But nothing happened.

            “I’m sorry, Angela,” said Carol softly. “You didn’t get your turn.”

            Angela couldn’t bear to make Carol feel sad, so she tried to smile bravely, as she said, “It’s all right. I had two already -  remember?”

            “Then you aren’t vexed?” Carol said with relief.

            “No, of course not,” Angela replied, as she gave her sister a quick hug. “And this one was especially pretty, just for you.” Carol’s hesitant smile, which became brighter  as she realized that it really was all right, made Angela feel that perhaps it was better after all, to have made her little sister happy.

            She was very disappointed about the doll but she was determined not to show it,  as the two girls got their clothes ready for church on Christmas morning.

            The first little rays of daylight were just slipping through the thin curtains at the windows when Angela turned over and rubbed her eyes. She stretched and yawned, and then she felt something at the bottom of her bed. She sat up and rubbed her eyes again; and there, sitting on the old chenille spread, was the doll with the white blouse and the red frilly skirt. I must be dreaming, Angela thought. But as she ran her hand over the tight black curls and the smooth chocolate-coloured face, she knew she was awake. It was not a dream at all.

            “Mummy, Daddy!” she called.

            Carol, who was awake by now, was jumping up and down in her excitement. She had discovered another doll in the folds of the spread. It was a baby doll, just the right size for her.

            “Thank you, Mummy and Daddy,” cried Angela as her parents appeared at the door. “How did you know just what I wanted?”

            “Did you put those dolls there?” their father asked their mother, laughing.

            “It’s a surprise to me,” replied their mother with a secret smile.

      

      And as Angela hugged her parents, she thought she saw something darting along a shaft of light and out through the window; something as small as a doctor bird, except that there was a flash of red and yellow like bandana cloth.

            I wonder if it really could be her? said Angela to herself with a little smile. I wonder if the Auntie of the Starlight really was here?

 

from The Big River and Other Stories

And independent Caribbean Cinderella for Independence, as promised

 Ebony  and the Auntie of the Starlight, a Caribbean Cinderella story has made it for Independence, August 6. In fact, she was up and ready for Emancipation Day.  The significance of Independence was that instead of Ebony meeting the prince at a ball, she meets him at the Independence Parade.  I do not know if there is any symbolism in Emancipation. I would not ascribe such links between the story and the symbolism  of Emancipation Day. It might even seem somewhat disrespectful. However, in all seriousness, there is the emancipation from mental slavery that Bob Marley sang about.

I have  sent out notices to all the people in my address book, which you guys know I hate, because it seems so pushy, so I’m glad that’s over. I have to develop a better marketing strategy. For one, very few people on my list will buy the book as an e-book. We are not into e-books yet for children.  For two, it’s not a targeted group. Many of the people on my list may not even be interested in children’s books.  

So come with me as we step awhile into the creation of Ebony  as a Caribbean Cinderella.

Differences/Similarities:

Differences and similarities are interwoven; they go in and out like maypole dancers (which are both European and part of our Jamaican heritage, as you may remember).

First, Ebony is in the Caribbean, and is an orphan in a children’s home, not related to the stepmother figure/villain figure as in the original fairy tale. However, the evil villain character, Mrs. Redeyeness,  still has two  mean daughters.

The fairy godmother has been replaced by the Auntie of the Starlight, and her transforming of Ebony from the kitchen to the parade, mirrors Cinderella, even as it creates humour at what is different. Ebony it seems, remembers the Cinderella story,  and wonders if the steps to her transformation will be the same. ( I love to do this by way of showing that the old folktales can make links with our stories today. I did it in Cordelia Finds Fame and Fortune, but just a mention.) So back to Ebony.

“Oh, Auntie of the Starlight, thank you, thank you!” she cried. “But are you sure I can walk in glass slippers?”  

“They aren’t glass, chile. Everybody knows glass would break,” said the Auntie of the Starlight. “I don’t know where you get that idea of glass slippers. Pure foolishness! They are plastic.” 

“Oh,” said Ebony, “I thought I heard it in a story. So should I have a coach made from a pumpkin? Or maybe not. . .” 

“A coach! No! What would you do with a coach? If you wished for a car. . .  but you didn’t,” said the Auntie of the Starlight. “So run, chile! Run and catch the parade before it pass.”  
 

The prince is not a prince, but the son of the owner of a spice factory called the Spice Kingdom,  therefore  prince-like as far as the people in the district are concerned. 

 Symbolism and Character in the Story:

Ebony is an orphan in a children’s home. This beginning has never been auspicious for anyone anywhere. Ebony rightly concludes she has no future. This is what she has to overcome in the story,  if she can.  I clearly describe Ebony’s physical  appearance and hair (that which we do not wish to mention) as  celebration of the African part of us.

Mrs. Redeyeness: the fact that she is not related to Ebony by marriage makes her behaviour all the more dreadful. The term ‘red eye’ refers to someone who is envious, grudgeful, jealous and has pure 'bad mind'.  She so dislikes  the fact that Ebony has grown into a lovely woman and that she is genuinely a sweet person, that she goes out of her way to be unkind to her, by inviting her into her home to become a drudge.  See how Mrs. Redeyeness  rejoices as Ebony’s  beauty seems to fade under all the hard work she has to do:

 “Ebony will just look like a poor bedraggled butterfly.” Every time she thought of it, she laughed, “Ha ha! Ha ha! A bedraggled butterfly! Ha ha! Ha ha! A bedraggled butterfly!”
 

Auntie of the Starlight: we first see her in the Christmas story I wrote light years ago, which I usually put on my blog ever Christmas. I developed her in place of the traditional fairy godmother. Auntie is a term of respect here, and I love starlights, such excitement when I was a child.  Such magic. Perhaps she is also partly the wise old woman who features in our stories, mine included, the mother-female/the grandmother-female.

The song sung by the Auntie of the Starlight, celebrates our trees, links to the fact that Ebony’s name is that of a tree, and so perhaps that allows for extra magic; who knows? for additional help for this daughter of the island, daughter being a respectful term for a  young  woman. Perhaps I got the term from Rastafarian speech. I don’t know. Things seep into the psyche and reappear in stories.

The spices celebrate our spices, that I think we could really develop and access niche markets.

Alfred ‘the prince’ is noble and handsome and good, and sees who Ebony really is. He will respect her, we know. That is very important. His character rather than his position, indicates why Ebony could love him.

Plot: Aha! By the time I’d got to the part where Alfred  has done his ‘some day my prince will come’, asking for Ebony’s hand in marriage, and then Mrs. Redeyeness and daughters cling to Ebony, declaring their love and need for her, and Ebony is wondering if they really love her after all, and maybe she shouldn't leave them, I was pretty fed up with the ‘too-good’ Ebony.  She redeemed  herself in my eyes, however, by working at the spice factory, gaining shares in the spice factory as part of her wedding settlement, along with the ring. Mercenary? Not at all. Modern little girls need to know that a certain amount of security is important, especially when they work for it. In addition, she brought other girls from the orphanage to work there and was training others to do so. Female empowerment, sisterhood, and yes, girls from children’s homes can have a future if they can work for it - independence.

After that Ebony deserves the wonderful wedding with dancing to reggae and soca. ( a nod to the ‘Caribbeanness’ of us all) and in describing  the dancing, I chose words which to me give exactly that feeling, that movement of the feet and body.  . . . sway, sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle  yo, yo yo . . . I hope that they succeeded.

There is no ‘happily ever after’  statement (which has fooled up all us females, all our lives) except that which Ebony can make with her life. “And Ebony realized that she had a bright future after all, and she smiled to think how happy she was.”  

Many of the old-time fairy tales/folktales were morality tales of a sort, warning tales, even if today they have been so sanitized and changed  that we have forgotten whatever that was about. Does Ebony and the Auntie of the Starlight have any  of these elements? Yes, although I did not set out for it to be so. I think that 1) the message (especially for ‘sweet people’) is do not let people take advantage of you, under the guise of love and affection, and 2) stand on your own two feet even when you think your prince has come.

The  main purpose of the story is enjoyment, the creation of our own Cinderella facing one of our possible realities.  Children know the original Cinderella story and so I hope they will also enjoy these differences, and claim this as their own. One does not expect them to understand the symbolism, but for our present-day girls, I hope the modern twist resonates with them as they are growing up.