Note: this was originally written at the end of July 2022, and posted to Substack on November 20, 2022.
I want to talk about something that I recently gained affirmation of – affirmation that it had been permanently lost and destroyed. Honestly, it felt disappointing, a little sad, quite unfortunate, despite not holding a high level of sentimental value. Rather, the subjects and the correlating environments within have resurfaced in my mental imaginative “omnisphere”.
The “something” is Secrets of the Forest, a story I wrote in 2015, when I was about 17 years of age. Recently I found myself watching a review/analysis video on Winx Club, and it prompted me to briefly browse some fan art. While I personally have never watched this show, let alone know about its franchise, anything decent-looking, fantastical, and feminine intrigues the creative aspect of my mind. Thus I was reminded of the story I wrote so many years ago… only to find I had completely deleted it. However, I did find a PowerPoint file with the title, characters, setting, and detailed synopsis of old writing – including Secrets of the Forest.
The situation triggered me to take a moment to reflect – not on my seemingly failure to keep a backup of all my old stories, but rather to reflect on three points:
- why I didn’t feel any strong attachment to the lost story
- how and why I made the story in the first place – and why it fell off
- the sudden re-emergence of fairies in my creative muse’s meandering wanders
On point one: If something I write doesn’t really “stick” with me for more than two or three years after I’ve completed it – meaning, that I can still re-read it and vibe with the storyline and concepts and themes, then it’s more than likely I’ll archive it or discard it, even if it’s just a first draft. Expanding on this into point two, I was in the midst of a rather unusual phase – a feminine Disney phase. I had watched The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, and was intrigued by the Fairy characters – Tinkerbell and her friends. I liked a lot of things – the way the characters were written, their personalities and behavior, and the overall concept and environment:
A mysterious forest with a large tree where fairy folk live together in peace and harmony, each with various tasks and skills.
On a base level, that’s what drew me in. I wanted to create a little magical world like it – but in my own unique special way, with a human discovering it, learning about it, and developing a yearn to nurture and protect it. (I didn’t really care much for wishes or even pixie dust – and only watched one movie – Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue, by the way.)
There were a lot of ideas for pretences, moments and situations in which the characters were thrown into that I consider quite weird, inappropriate, and even cringey by my current standards – and even by my standards just two years after it was first conceived. Mostly ‘cause it was a wack-job of haphazardly adding in stuff that I really liked (or took interest to) at the time, with little care as to if it made sense with the story’s themes and setting.
So what caused the fairy fallout? In one word: ponies. Just a few months later, I discovered My Little Pony and everything about my mental creative omnisphere changed. Disney was on its way out. My writing styles, preferences, and themes entered a new dimension – and so did the way I observed, examined, and critiqued female characters aimed at an audience of children.
Even after My Little Pony ended, I didn’t go back to Secrets of the Forest, let alone even read it or consider reviving it – despite at the time having a creative identity crisis and trying to re-discover myself again. Why?
Primarily due to self-inflicted shamefulness. I was maturing as a young man at 22 years of age and as I tried to rebuild my creative artistic self amidst the ending of the 4th generation of My Little Pony (plus the global COVID-19 lockdown), the struggles I faced in consistently practicing mindfulness and conscious thinking of adult life skills led to a pang of disappointment, regret, and even disgust at my past self for taking a passionate liking towards such feminine Disney characters, themes, and stories. Ponies were one thing, but fairies and princesses are on a whole other level. (Tell me, in any context, directed towards anyone of any gender, have you heard or used the term “girly” as a compliment, much less in any positive form?)
The turn-off also was (like the original fallout) due to story style and preference changes. I started shifting away from fantasy and more towards realistic science fiction in the formulation of my creative story ideas.
Now let’s address point three: the possible re-emergence. Fairies have dotted my art web surfing sessions here and there for well over a year, and I still found them to be beautiful cute, and unique as the creatures of fantastical imagination they are. But it never instilled in me to commit to creating a story about fairies. There was a little sliver of an idea at one point, but soon faded away like cigar smoke in a breeze. I had a zillion other story ideas I was actively developing and expanding upon at the time, so anything else could be loosely entertained, but not established or developed.
Throughout spring and summer of 2022, I started re-organizing and re-prioritizing my story ideas. While there is a whole novel series and one standalone novel idea, perhaps a gap may open up for one more idea of a different theme – likely a short story or a mini-novel.
A glaring question remains…
Do I still feel ashamed of 17-year-old me taking a liking to Tinkerbell and Pixie Hollow and thereafter writing a story about a teen boy who discovers a group of fairies living in a forest near his home?
Not really. I accept that as teenagers we all go through phases of interests, entertainment we like, and creative ideas thereby, and that holding a healthy level of disappointment and uneasiness at our old work means we have grown as an ever-developing human. If there’s anything I cringe at looking back at that phase in my journey as creative individual, it’s the poor quality of the story due to the way it was built, rather than the original source of inspiration, the characters, or the genre, or themes I attempted to convey.