We have a new host for MLMM’s Tale Weaver in Stephanie Colpron.
I for one have missed this prompt and was sorry to see Michael hang up his pens, though glad to see posts from him from time to time.
Stephanie’s maiden voyage gives us this:
“Are people born wicked?” (from Wicked, No One Mourns the Wicked)
A few days ago, I was contemplating the fact that most tales are told from the hero’s perspective. What if the story was told from the villain’s point of view?
Isn’t it all a question of perspective?
Some authors have become known for this particular brand of writing, like Gregory Maguire’s Wicked or Confession of an Ugly Stepsister.
Even Disney’s taken to telling its classics from another point of view, like Maleficent… And whether we like the result or not (full disclaimer: I didn’t), it is still an interesting exercise.
So this week, I’d like to invite you to write a story from the villain’s perspective.
Here’s my response, though not exactly a villain as such……………………
It should have been me you know.
The stupid bimbo of the golden hair and big blue saucer eyes was a wimp. Why else would she be content to scrub floors and wash dishes?
Phfft. It wasn’t fair. Sis and me were always arguing over dresses and shoes and the like, but the little ‘doll’ made the other servants feel sorry for her.
And what was that fairy godmother thing all about? We had godmothers too, but not the sort that floated in the air with a twinkling wand and dainty wings.
We were all invited to the ball that night, well except her of the scullery. Her invite fell into the fire. Not my fault, Sis lit the match.
I’d had a bath specially, bubbles and everything, and it wasn’t even my birthday. Sis was more like a frog than a water baby and got soap in her eyes, screaming the place down.
I got the best dress though. Loads of bows and ribbons, nipped in at the waist, well sort of if I had one, but it emphasised my ample assets and provided I didn’t cough, sneeze or laugh, I could prevent spillage.
Sis was the other way. Not much up top and all behind her. She looked pregnant in reverse and was OK until she opened her gob. Those teeth! Even a horse would feel threatened.
Nope. It should’ve been me, had I been given the chance to dazzle him with my brilliant wit and charm. Mama had it all planned right down to the wedding cake.
Then ‘She’ came into the room and Principoos was toast. No-one knew who it was at the time of course, just some mysterious ‘princess’ who didn’t even have an invite, but who was bothering to look, eh?
She had curves to die for, clear porcelain skin, and eyes that put the stars in the shade.
Who would’ve thought it was our Cinders, the fraud!
Still, I guess it’s true that it’s not what you know but who, and she had the Who’s Who of who to know in spades.
Oh well. Mama is on the lookout for another beau for Sis and me. The old git from the next realm is game I hear. Wonder if I can have a new frock?