Mythic Fiction Quotes

“Some years ago I had a conversation with a man who thought that writing and editing fantasy books was a rather frivolous job for a grown woman like me. He wasn’t trying to be contentious, but he himself was a probation officer, working with troubled kids from the Indian reservation where he’d been raised. Day in, day out, he dealt in a concrete way with very concrete problems, well aware that his words and deeds could change young lives for good or ill.
I argued that certain stories are also capable of changing lives, addressing some of the same problems and issues he confronted in his daily work: problems of poverty, violence, and alienation, issues of culture, race, gender, and class...
“Stories aren’t real,” he told me shortly. “They don’t feed a kid left home in an empty house. Or keep an abusive relative at bay. Or prevent an unloved child from finding ‘family’ in the nearest gang.”
Sometimes they do, I tried to argue. The right stories, read at the right time, can be as important as shelter or food. They can help us to escape calamity, and heal us in its aftermath. He frowned, dismissing this foolishness, but his wife was more conciliatory. “Write down the names of some books,” she said. “Maybe we’ll read them.”
I wrote some titles on a scrap of paper, and the top three were by Charles de lint – for these are precisely the kind of tales that Charles tells better than anyone. The vital, necessary stories. The ones that can change and heal young lives. Stories that use the power of myth to speak truth to the human heart.
Charles de Lint creates a magical world that’s not off in a distant Neverland but here and now and accessible, formed by the “magic” of friendship, art, community, and social activism. Although most of his books have not been published specifically for adolescents and young adults, nonetheless young readers find them and embrace them with particular passion. I’ve long lost count of the number of times I’ve heard people from troubled backgrounds say that books by Charles saved them in their youth, and kept them going.
Recently I saw that parole officer again, and I asked after his work. “Gets harder every year,” he said. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.” He stopped me as I turned to go. “That writer? That Charles de Lint? My wife got me to read them books…. Sometimes I pass them to the kids.”
“Do they like them?” I asked him curiously.
“If I can get them to read, they do. I tell them: Stories are important.”
And then he looked at me and smiled.”
― Terri Windling

“I'm a writer and this is what I do no matter what name we put to it. Year by year, the world is turning into a darker and stranger place than any of us could want. This is the only thing I do that has potential to shine a little further than my immediate surroundings. For me, each story is a little candle held up to the dark of night, trying to illuminate the hope for a better world where we all respect and care for each other.”
― Charles de Lint

“My anger mounted. “What about your son and me? What about us? How can you even think of leaving me alone here with our baby boy? Telemachus needs his father. What’s going to happen to us if you leave? Who will help me raise him? Who will take care of us? You know as well as I do some of the men around here are nothing but a bunch of scoundrels. Mark my words, Odysseus. The second you’re gone, they’ll swarm in here like bees around honey. They’ll take over the place. I won’t be able to do a thing to stop them.”
― Tamara Agha-Jaffar, Unsung Odysseys

“You cruel, hard-hearted gods!” I flung the goblet in his direction. Hermes barely had time to dart out of its way before it hit the wall and shattered to small pieces. “You’re all the same! Hsst! Jealous! Vindictive! That’s what you are! You allow yourselves to take pleasure with any mortal you wish. Let a goddess do the same. Let a goddess choose a mortal for her lover, and you set off in a fury of revenge against her as if her actions are an affront to you. And all the while, you male gods allow yourselves all kinds of liberties you deny to us females.”
― Tamara Agha-Jaffar, Unsung Odysseys

“It happened so quickly. One minute I was plucking the flower, and the next I was in his chariot immersed in darkness. I struggled to wrench myself free from his grasp and run away. I twisted as far as I could, hoping to see mother chasing after me. But ahead of me, behind me, on either side of me, everywhere I looked, all I could see was darkness.”
― Tamara Agha-Jaffar, A Pomegranate and the Maiden

“There’s a name for what I am, Odys. I’m your Automaton. You’re my new Master. When Pepin, my old Master, killed himself, he canceled the bond I shared with him. I became functionless—stagnant—inanimate. I couldn’t change from my object-form until you touched me—until I took your soul. I need a soul to fuel me—to wind me up. We’re like machines— our soul is the rechargeable battery. But I’m far from wires, gears, and bolts.”
― G.B. Gabbler, The Automation

“The Muses can kiss my ass. Inspiration’s done too much damage already—
Gabbler suspects I’m insane. Yet Gabbler’s still so interested in my story. Gabbler
hopes I’m joking—only putting on a show (Gabbler has always liked my
eccentricities).”
― B.L.A., The Automation

“I had expected a certain amount of exitment from the staff when they found out I wasn't totaly helpless. Instead, they looked unfomfortable. They exchanged glances, then looked at the sky, then at the ground.
"umm.... does this mean we're going on? Guido said at last.”
― Robert Lynn Asprin, Myth-ing Persons