|Ann (capriuni) wrote,|
@ 2010-10-08 04:54 pm UTC
|Entry tags:||monsters, nanowrimo, writing|
I got three responses over on the LJ side of the divide. And I found myself disappointed that no one picked my children's fantasy/misfit toy idea.
So I guess that tells me I wasn't so conflicted, after all -- there is one idea that tugs harder at my heartstrings than the others.
Here are the two main characters slowly coalescing in my imagination, right now:
A girl -- perhaps six or seven years old, but maybe as old as ten -- who loves bugs and creepy crawlies and imaginary monsters, but whose mother, aunts, uncles, teachers, et alia, all want to be a "cute" girl, who likes ponies and princesses, and sparkly fairy wands, like other "normal" girls her age.
A "monster" toy -- as according to one older definition of "monster": a creature with a mix of several different animals' body parts. There's a snafu at the toy factory, and the computerized patterns get all mixed up, so, for a brief period, stuffed bunnies get giraffe necks, stuffed lions get bunny ears, and so forth. The glitch is discovered, the machines are stopped, and all the "defective" toys get found, taken apart, and their pieces recycled -- all except for one: a "monster" teddy that somehow managed to get through the assembly line and into its package and into the shipping crate before the glitch was discovered.
Naturally, the girl finds the monster (somehow), and (somehow) gets it home. Maybe the mother gives in, perhaps as a bargain to get the girl to wear the pretty dress and to be ladylike at an important event. Or maybe the girl finds the packaged teddy in a discard pile at the store, or ...?
And then, the story takes a turn into Raggedy Ann, Velveteen Rabbit, and Toy Story territory, and becomes a "Secret life of toys" tale. And the Monster Teddy becomes the protector/hero, because it can use its fangs and claws and weird looks to fight off nightmares and malevolant shadows...
Here's what I'm pondering right now: are there more interesting, and /or nuanced ways, for a toy to "become alive" than through the pure and innocent love that the child has for it? Because, frankly, that scenerio, while a commonly accepted trope, seems a bit too saccharine to be a good fit with these particular characters.