Fairy Tale Fix - 109: A Light Stabbing feat. Tish Black

Episode Date: August 26, 2025

Fairy Tale Fix has really hit the big time hosting our very first published fairy tale author: Tish Black! Tish reads the Fixtresses two of her fairy tale retellings that hit all the right catharsis notes for your feminine rage: Bone and Roan (hey that rhymes). Kelsey rounds out the episode with two tales of how old Russian ladies cope with their terrible husbands, and wow - they both need fixing real bad.

Oh, my God, I forgot how to start the show. Oh, my God. I forgot how to start the show. I'm just going to get right into it. Welcome to fairy tale fix. a what the fuck fairy tale podcast I'm Kelsey I'm Abby and today I we just I'm really excited we have a really really special guest Tish Black. Yay!

Tell everyone a little bit about yourself who you are while you're on the show, what you're doing. I'm on the show because I desperately asked to be on the show. We've been trying to get you scheduled to be on here for a while. We've been anticipating this and like talking to you for. gosh like at least the past year if not more so this is very exciting guest scheduling guests for some reason gives me a lot of anxiety and it always takes a while because like getting even just me and abby getting a schedule on a weekend is all hard but i don't know so i'm so glad you're

you're finally on though me too um so i guess the other reason i'm on here is because i published my book of fairy tale retelling short stories called Ebony Blood and Snow in April. And I don't even have a copy right here, but they can't see anyway. So that's what I do is I write fairy tales and I make content about it and I study fairy tales like a friggin nerd. And that's my thing. I have a copy of your book. It is really beautiful. I love the cover.

it's all black and then the words are in like a really pretty gold and my favorite part that has to be the dedicated to the angry feminists. I love that so much. I kept it simple. I had some more colorful ideas. Oh, can you tell us? Yes, take us through a few. Like dedicated to the feminists who sometimes just want to fucking stab him. Oh, I love that. That's. a good one. Yeah, but one of my readers and, like, my friend who, like, edited, was like, maybe don't start with, like, an F-bomb and like that. I don't know what it hooked me, but maybe that's a niche market. I don't know. I mean, I kind of basically say that in the introduction of, like, this is what this is about. Sometimes you just want to fucking stab him. Like, I say they're

feminist fairy tale retellings, but also I explained in the introduction, like, you get some misandria as a treat like we just go there what's the fun of being like all equal yeah like yeah it would be great if everyone like got punished fairly but like let's read a fantasy story where she fucking stabs him yes we're talking about you roland it fucking Roland absolutely and a bunch of others but that's the one that comes to my mind first every time yeah a lot of fairy tale men could do with a lesson let's say a light stabbing a light stabbing a light stabbing just light just lightly stabbed a little bit well I love that I that I that would have hooked me with the cursing, but, you know, I'm sure there are some people that would

scare them off a little. So, I mean, I had someone give me a three-star review, and they, like, quoted the dedication and said, like, I needed more rage. I needed more anger. And I was like, I was not expecting that. I was expecting the other side problem, but okay. Notes for later. Yeah, no, let's bring your next book. Well, everybody go on, where do they buy? your book. I know we have it on bookshop.org and Amazon. Yeah, it should be just about everywhere. Honestly, Amazon's probably the best. And if you buy it and read or leave a review there, that's also kind of the biggest market for indie authors. But it should be listed just about everywhere. You can ask your library for it. Ask your favorite bookstore for it.

Again, it's Ebony Blood and Snow by Tish Black. And we've talked about in the past how we're not super fans of Amazon. But Tish, tell everybody how Amazon works with like indie authors. I think this is really interesting. Yeah. So Amazon KDP, Kindle, Direct Publishing is how a lot of independent authors publish. And like it or not, Amazon is the biggest book market out there. So it actually provides pretty good royalties for us. And the print copies, I think, turned out really nice and the e-books on there. I'm not in Kindle Unlimited that program, but you can get the e-book and the paper back there. And yeah, as much as we hate Amazon, if you're like boycotting, maybe just consider like lifting the boycott for indie authors because it actually really helps us. But yeah,

you can get it just about anywhere. I think that's a, I think that's a good place to, a good place to settle, which is like supporting, supporting indie authors with reviews and buying their books from Amazon can really help them actually make it and make this a more profitable enterprise to themselves. For big authors, stick to your indie bookstores and like your traditionally published stuff. You can order from bookshopdorg.com. Abby, did I ever tell you how I have a new policy where if I feel like I have to buy something from Amazon, whether it's because I'm getting it quickly or because it's just like I can't

If I had it anywhere else or whatever reason, whatever reason, I have to add a Ruth Mending Sanders book on there. Now I'm adding Tish Black. Every time I buy something from Amazon, I have to buy a book. I have to take it to my little free library, donate it somewhere. Oh, my gosh. I love that rule. I feel like that's my carmic rule of like if I have to use Amazon because they're the only one

that has this movie that I really want to watch streaming. Oh, yeah. I rent a clown in a cornfield for like $20. I'm not going to lie. I just really needed to watch it. And you were a very satisfied customer, as I recall, because you were texting me. I love that movie. We watched it on Friday the 13th.

It was amazing. I know. I don't think you're not like a horn movie fan. No. And the title, I don't know if I would go for clown in a cornfield. It was so good. I think it was more of a comedy, like a dark comedy. Yeah.

There was some really funny lines in it. But yeah, every time I have to buy something on Amazon, throw a book on there. I think that is such a beautiful rule. I applaud you for this. That sounds amazing. Tell us a little bit more about your book, what inspired you to write it, the kinds of ways that you are like focused on for retelling these fairy tales. Anything you want to share about your process. Yeah. So I think what I, the first story that I worked on, even just like in my head was the first story of the book, the sort of titular story, Ebony, which is about Snow White's mother before Snow White, like leads into the Snow White story. Because I felt like she didn't have a good like explanation of why she was like that. Like why she felt it was like killer be killed.

for the most beautiful. And then I did, I do video essays on fairy tale film adaptation. So I was watching a bunch of snow white films to do that. And I realized I was like, these are like almost all by men. And the backstory for the stepmother or mother, they always do stepmother,

was just like, oh, she's just evil. She's just power mad. And it was like a power play. Bitches, be crazy. yeah that was about it and it was just like but that's such a like you know like stereotypical like male villain thing of like being power hungry and I was like why aren't we like why aren't women exploring like what would lead her here because my answer was simple is like what would make a woman do this I was like the patriarchy like pitting women against each other valuing women only for their beauty like that could get to you and drive you a little insane So I came with a story of how she got to the point of sending the huntsmen because she thought it was more important for her to be beautiful than her daughter couldn't be more beautiful. So actually, well, that's a bit of an anomaly one because, like, I mean, there's no redoubt. She is bad.

You know how that ends? Like she does, she does bad things. So that one's more of like a character study than like a redemption work. I could almost like defy them all to like doing like the wrong or right thing for the wrong or right reasons and that's when she does the wrong thing for the wrong reasons

but the rest of them are like sometimes they're doing the wrong thing like murder but she has a good reason or you know sometimes they try to do the right thing but it's like you're doing it for the wrong reason like you're just out for revenge so but yeah most of them are like she's they're all about women and they're all about women um doing what they believe is right

going after what they want even if that is cannibalism um standing up for other women um and just yeah trying to live their best life there's a little bit of revenge and murder in there if he deserves it which of course he does Yeah. And some of them are more retellings, but I think most of them are really just like, I just say inspired by because I just kind of took an idea and ran with it. And you may or may not recognize the tail in there. Some of them have a little like couple tails in there you might see. Girl power. Girl power. I love it. I do love an idea of like taking all of these sort of like larger than life archetypes and then kind of interrogating the why. Like why did they, why did this person make. this make this choice and the answer can't be because evil yeah um or because good it's because life is complicated and people are complicated and like i i think that's wonderful yeah and i try to give even the sort of good heroines like my cinderella story it's not as simple as her sisters are mean or some others mean she actually sort of learns to like gets to know her sister

and learns that she's been judging them and they're actually not that bad. So like stuff like that, like expanding on the structure of the tales that we know, but giving them more as much as you can in a short story. And I love that because regardless of whether or not the characters themselves are good or bad or wrong or right or evil or whatever, it's like the whole point is that resisting patriarchy involves like

learning more about each other and learning more about ourselves and seeing ourselves This is we can think people. Well said, Abby. Beautiful. Thank you. I'll add that to my book cover. Hell yeah. I can't wait to hear these stories.

Me too. But first, before we get into stories, I also want to know, can you tell everybody, like, where they can find your video essays, like, how to get to you on YouTube and Instagram and all that good stuff? Yeah. So my social media is really just Instagram now, Tales with Tish. I also write, like, essays about fairy tales on Substack. And then that links through to my YouTube, which is Tish Black 13, I think. But you can find everything or Tishblack.com to find everything. That's where I'm at online.

We'll put it in our show notes and all that good stuff too. I want to make sure everybody go follow, go give Tish a follow and check out our video essays. And it's awesome. So one of our other questions we all have to ask our guests is, obviously, what is your favorite childhood fairy tale? and how would you fix it? Or are we going to learn that very soon? Yeah, no spoilers if you already put that in your book. Maybe.

If you read the book, yeah. I can't think of what I liked in childhood because I don't remember being read anything specifically. But I will say one of my favorites, like over the years, like being interested in fairy tales is definitely Red Riding Hood. Nice. Because... Excellent choice.

Yeah, I know you love it. I think it's interesting that it has persisted. Like everyone knows it and you recognize it with just like a little bit of symbolism, a Red Hood or a Wolf or something. But we don't have like other tales like a Disney movie to like anchor our cultural like reference to it. So I find it interesting that it persists and like there's different versions. I will say my favorite version of it is the story of grandmother, which came from France like before Perrault wrote his.

and I like it the best because it's, is weird, and she saves herself in the end, which, like, Perot just kills her and the Grims are like, you need a huntsman to save you, but in the sort of original, uh, kind of story, she just, like, gets herself out of a tricky situation, because she's clever. And, uh, I don't know how I would fix it. I do have a red riding hit story in the book. I don't know if it's a fix. It's like a weird twist. thought it's like grown-up red riding hood trying to write some wrongs from our childhood and like there's some real bad stuff in that one I want that yeah I mean yeah it's pretty badass and there's also like yeah the worst the worst stuff I could think of but like I didn't describe it but someone's doing like the worst stuff ever and she's trying to help people um yeah my fix generally is like I don't need a huntsman I don't like she can save herself which I feel like I get from the story of the kind of original one.

Just curious. Have you seen Hard Candy? Yes, years ago. I know that's like a loo. I mean, she wears a red hoodie. Like when I'm researching for my video essays, there's this database called the International Fairy Tale Filmography. And it's basically you can look up like by fairy tale or buy a lot of

lot of stuff and just see like every film short film everything so i'm like looking at like at that for research and there's so much under red riding hood that's like someone wears red hood or it's a werewolf something or it's just like about child predators i'm like i mean you're reaching a bit loosely based are there but like yeah so tell us about your first tale okay i wanted to share this really short little, it's almost not even a story. It's more like a character description of an amazing woman. It's from Angela Carter's Book of Fairy Tales, which I highly recommend as a collection. It's totally international and all like really interesting women protagonists. And she opens the whole collection with just this little tale. And it just delighted me when I opened it up and read it

for the first time. So it's called as best as I've learned to pronounce it. Sermersois. It's an Inuit tale. It's very short. I don't know if you want to make like one little prediction. And I'll just say, yeah, it's not really, I'll take a swing at it.

Yeah, it's, I'll say, yeah, it's like description of this woman, Saint-Merswa. So if you want to, like, guess one or two things where, like, why is she so amazing that we're opening with this? I'm just going to continue with today's theme of there's a light stabbing. That's what I was going to guess to. A light stabbing. All right, here, I'm going to guess a bigger stabbing.

Okay. So stabby predictions. Okay. So this is Semersois. Semersois was so powerful that she could lift a kayak on the tips of three fingers. She could kill a seal merely by drumming on its head with her fists. She could rip asunder a fox or hair. Once she arm wrestled with Casor Lagua, another powerful woman, and beat her so easily that she said,

poor Casseur-Laguay could not even beat one of her own lice at arm wrestling. Oh, shit. Oh, my God. That is savage. That is an ambitious thing to say. Oh, it gets better. Most men, she could beat, and then she would tell them, where were you when the testicles were given out?

Oh. Sometimes this semersois would show off her clitoris. It was so big that the skin of a fox would not fully cover it. And she was the mother of nine children, too. Damn, queen. Good for her. Isn't she amazing? What a babe.

Sounds hot. Love her. Okay, she doesn't need to stab anybody because she can rip people apart with her bare hands. Yeah. I love that. She's a queen. She's an icon. Mm-hmm.

Stammer swat. Hell yeah. A strong start, Tish. A little opener. Yeah. Yeah, strong opening. Absolute perfection. And so now I'm going to share one of my stories from my book.

I'm going to start with one of the darkest stories to give you a taste of that end of the spectrum. It is called Bone. And I will, you guys, do you guys want to make a couple of predictions? Oh, yes. I'll tell you what tale I'm like retelling to give you a hint. That would be helped. So this, yeah, this is, yeah, bone doesn't give you much. This, so, this is my Hansel and Gretel retelling.

Ooh. Okay. So I think you could do three each if you want to. Three, okay. Abby, do you want to go first? I can't, I can't, I can't if you would like me to. Sure. That way I can piggyback off your predictions.

Okay. I'm just, I just, I'm trying to remember because I do think that there's a part of the original Brothers Grimm retelling that involves a bone. I predict that this is from the witch's perspective. I'm predicting witch's apprentice, Gretel, and I am predicting the bone part of this is like a construction material. bonus construction material cool like instead of a house made of candy it's a house made of bones that is kind of where my thoughts are going but i also wanted to keep it vague enough that it's like something is made out of bone is basically where we're going with this so my first production these are probably wrong but you know what i don't care this very just fun uh the duck is present quack quack

Remember in Hansel and Gretel, there's like a random duck at the end that boats them across. Like, I'm going to put that's in there somewhere. The duck has been given a reason to exist. Two, somebody gets stabbed with a bone. That's my prediction. And then I think Abby's are better, but you know what? I mean, I was going off of what we said we wanted from Hansel and Gretel. I was cheating.

My third prediction is, yeah, a kid does get eaten in this one. Love it. Well, I mean, you know, hey, I think you're picking up the right vibes because Tish did mention sometimes they do the wrong things like cannibalism at the top of the episode. I love, I love these predictions. I will also say before I begin, little content warning, if anyone wants to skip it. So there is cannibalism. There is some description of blood, a little bit of violence and murder.

It's got to happen. From all the stabbing. Well, I mean, how do you get to cannibalism usually? And I'll just also say it touches on the themes or has, if you're triggered by like disordered eating, there is like starvation and like overeating if that's something you don't want to hear about. I did say this was like one of the darkest ones. So there's some content warnings. Okay. So excited.

This is bone. It had been quite a week for me and my brother. Thrice, our mother, had sent us into the swamp forest under false pretenses only to leave us there. We had found our way back the first two times, clever as we were, but the third time, we were not so clever. We instead found ourselves wandering deeper into the forest, grappling with the idea that our mother had done this on purpose and wondering what we had done to deserve it. I recalled whispers between our mother and father late at night about the drought, our food stores, and mouse to feed. After days of hunger, during which we considered the edibility of just about everything we saw,

we came upon a house built up on stilts in the swamp and thought our luck had changed. I thought I must be hallucinating from hunger, but Hans saw it too. The house was made of food, sweets, to be precise, gingerbread walls, chocolate barge boards, and sugar windows. We did not hesitate in our ravenous state. We ran through the mud and weeds to the house and began to consume it. We didn't get far before the door opened, and we both stopped in surprise. The old lady looked like she may have baked a house of sweets, but never eaten any herself. The phrase skin and

bone. Very scary detail. That's great imagery. I love it. The phrase skin and bones must have been inspired by her, for she seemed to be made of nothing else. But she smiled kindly as she beckoned us to enter, for she had more food inside for us, and poor starving children shouldn't have to nibble on my house for nourishment. We did not question her intentions. Our stomachs were making our decisions by then. We quickly entered the house salivating at the thought of even the most basic food stuffs that it may contain. We were hungry fools, just what she needed. We didn't even notice the food was inside of cages as we each leapt towards a pile. We didn't notice that the cages and the entire house were made of bones. Hell yeah. We didn't notice.

incredible we didn't notice until it was too late dun dun dun dun oh my gosh also shout out sugar windows i think yeah i know you left hard was like one of our first episodes right it was um and i remembered like i viscerally remember the sugar windows in every hansl and gruddle adaptation because i loved that idea as a kid but wow so i love uh i love what you're doing with this so far and so far like the vibes of this that like I love the idea of the witch as like just like skin like skin and bones herself yeah but her entire house is designed to like lure

and fatten up children like I think that's that's a really monstery you know very monstery super creepy love it when you said stilts for a second I was like oh are you going to make it a baba yaga twist like in the days that followed my little brother grew before my very eyes he eagerly gobbled up the sweets that the witch frequently poured into his cage without question i knew it could not be just sugar there was magic at work here the witch must have been nearly blind for she didn't trust her eyes to show her how hans was fattening up she tested his growth not with her hands but by gently squeezing his finger between her teeth like his near constant eating he allowed to this without a hint of mistrust. She seemed satisfied with his growth. I, on the other hand, refused to eat. I could not see any good to come from it. My desire to eat was what drove my mother to get rid of me, what got me caught in this cage, and as far as I could tell, what would lead to my death. I heard the witch mumbling to herself about her plans for Hans. I heard words and phrases

I only knew for my mother's recipes. About me, she mumbled frustratingly not knowing what use there would be for me. For when she forced me to give her my finger, she tutted at its lack of soft flesh. I did not know if I would ever eat again, but I was determined to get my brother and myself out of our cages. Despite being made of bones, the cages were impossibly solid and immovable. I pulled up a nail from the floorboards one day, but it made not so much as a scratch into the bones of the cage. A nail was no match for a witch's magic. I knew then that the cages would have to be opened by the witch, not me. The witch left us there alone every night when she went out.

I had no idea what she was doing out there. She always returned at dawn, weakened, and went straight to her cauldron, which simmered constantly over embers in the fireplace. She drank the broth from a bowl made of a human skull. Hell yeah. Man, she sounds cool. I like her dinnerware. Yeah, she sounds like an icon.

It is fabulous. and unique. One morning, when she finished her broth, she turned to me and said angrily. If you won't eat, then you'll work. And with a snap of her fingers, the door of my cage opened. I hesitated, not trusting my good fortune, but crawled out for what other choice did I have.

My muscles and joints ached as I stretched into a standing position. I felt lightheaded as I reached my full height. I towered over the petite witch, but she did not look the least intimidating. dated. She looked up at me and began barking orders. Clean up this, put away that, and don't ask questions. I was compelled by her magic to obey. The task she kept for herself was baking more sweets to feed my brother. Hans seemed surprisingly content throughout this time, sleeping peacefully when he wasn't gorging on food. I tried to tell him to stop when the witch wasn't

watching, but he would hardly look at me, his eyes looking glazed over like they were also covered in sugar. I could not. Yeah, I love that. He's on drugs. He's on drugs. He lays over as if it's sugar. Oh, that's so good.

Yeah. That's really good. I could not communicate with him. I could not save him. So she better just eat him. I knew what she intended for Hans as he grew ever larger. I knew what that broth she kept simmering was made up. I knew, but I could not stop it. Though I was now free within the small house, I could do no more or less than the witch commanded.

She could have forced me to eat, but she did not. And I was wasting away, beginning to look like her. One morning she came home from her night out, looking even weaker than usual. I poured her broth for her and held the bowl to her mouth. She told me to test my brother's progress for her. I said I could see that he was even larger than the day before, but she wouldn't take that as an answer. You must test him, she said. I looked at my poor sleeping brother.

His skin... A try. His skin pressed against the bone bars of the cage. He was too large to move around within it now. I took a step toward him. Just a little nipple on the finger, the witch said weakly. Tell me how he tastes. I bent down to him in his cage and saw his plump fingers resting just out

the cage bars. He lightly snored as I carefully took his hand in mine, held his index finger, and brought it to my mouth. I had not put anything but water in my mouth for so long that his soft finger felt out of place between my teeth, but I instinctually bit down. I hadn't meant to hurt him, but I drew blood. It smelled so sweet, I closed my lips around the finger and let my tongue move around it, collecting the blood, tasting the sweetness, making me want more. This is where all my beta readers left comments like, ew, but in a good way. Yeah, no, like this is absolutely like tickling the part of my brain that is fascinated by like starvation and cannibalism and like horror stories generally. So funny that you say you don't like horror.

All right. I forgot it. was a finger. I forgot it was my brother. I felt something else compelling me, stronger than the witch's magic. I couldn't stop myself. I bit again, harder this time. I felt a hunger for the first time since I'd arrived in this house. I even moaned in pleasure for a moment before the witch's bony hand was on my shoulder ripping me away. Ugh. Dang it. I wanted her to just go, like, go to town. Go to shop town. For those of you listening at home, for a good chunk of this story, Kelsey has been miming, eating something off some kind of dick.

Just I love this regrettel. I fell back on the floor and looked up at her like I was coming out of a trance, just realizing what I had done. I looked at my brother. His bloody hand rested by his innocent face. He was still sleeping. The witch looked at me with a smile on her face. face. He's ready, she said. Though I could still smell the sweetness of his blood that had dried on his hand, I kept my distance from my brother, ashamed of myself. The witch had new chores for me now. I cleaned the large oven that had remained unused as long as we had been there while she collected more firewood. While the oven warmed up, I helped the witch gather dried spices and herbs that hung from her rafters to mix into a sauce. The smell was delicious.

but not as delicious as my memory of my brother's finger. I had known this was coming. I had tried to save him from it. But now I couldn't remember why. He hadn't fought it. He had eaten everything she had given him. He hadn't cried for help or so much as looked at me while we'd been here. My newfound hunger began twisting my mind.

Had I been a burden on our family's food stores or had it been him? Hadn't he always eaten twice as much as I had at dinner? hadn't it been him who ran first towards the gingerbread house and took the first bite hadn't his appetite and lack of control gotten him into this? Why should I go hungry while he was so gluttonous? I was wondering, it was like, what are we going to get

into sort of like the feminist theory part of this? Part of the story. It was good. It's exciting. I like it. The witch grew weaker as we prepared. I could see that she needed this. The morning that she drank the last of the broth in her simmering pot, she said, It is time. She opened his cage with a snap of her fingers, but he remained asleep.

With much difficulty, I had to pull his body out of the cage. She made me undress him, rub the spice sauce all over his body, and tie his arms and legs together. He was no longer my brother. I saw what the witch saw. Food. I lifted the body inside the hot oven and closed the door. He never woke up. We waited. It roasted all day as we both salivated at the smell. Every hour, we rotated our meat in the oven. She said, we must keep waiting.

My hunger in the forest had been desperation. It had a hold over my body that took control and led me here. My hunger now was a desire. I grew patient. It wasn't just a bodily instinct. I no longer felt the witch's magic compelling me. I knew why I was waiting. Finally, the witch declared it was time to eat. What had once been my little brother was now the largest roast I'd ever seen. Consuming it was all I could think about. The witch and I sat on opposite sides of her small table, the roast taking up the entire surface. I swallowed as I breathed in the intoxicating smell and waited for her permission to eat. She took the first bite, and I followed. It was better than I'd imagined.

The taste, the smell, the feel of it was everything I'd ever needed or wanted my whole life, given to me all at once. It was better than the love of my parents, better than joyful summer days playing in the garden with my brother, better than any pleasure I'd ever known. Consuming this flesh was all I thought about, and I never wanted it to end. But it did come to an end. Our non-stop consumption was finished as we both licked the last bits of gristle off the last bones. It was over. Nothing but bones on the table. I looked up at the witch to find her completely transformed. She was no longer just skin and bones, but a plump, rosy-cheeked, smiling granny. I looked down at myself and found my body similarly plump. Put the bones in the pot with some water, she told me. We'll need the broth until we find our next meal. More, I said. She repeated her order, but her commands no longer magically compelled me to follow her. I'm

want more. The witch's newly fattened face began to look afraid. We were now both fed, but I was taller and younger. She told me to sit down, but I stood. And I took that plump old lady and put her in the oven. Fuck yes. Excellent. As you showed, Queen. So good. Unlike my brother, she did put up a fight, but it didn't last. long. I cleared the table and began to prepare for my next meal. The end. Yes, that was so good, a tish. That is exactly, like, that's exactly what we would normally fix the story as, I feel like. Absolutely. Yeah, I feel like the witch's apprentice was your face. Yeah. It was, yeah. Although, like, I love kind of the twist of she then, like,

murders the old witch. Yeah. That's so good. That's way better. That's way better. There's something a little bit Star Wars about that. There's a little bit like there can only be one. Yeah.

You have to kill the other Sith Lord situation. But the desire is so strong. Yeah. Dang. And she just can't even contain herself. So good. Mm-hmm. Yeah.

That was really, that was really. good um amazing 10 out of 10 i am so excited to read all the rest of these stories i by the way i was going to say earlier i have been waiting because i don't i didn't want to like spoil anything so i've been waiting to read me that was so good yeah that was very creepy super super gross it was beautifully written i loved the descriptions like so i don't know creepy but also like beautiful and poetic. Mm-hmm. What sort of inspired you to take the story in that direction?

Like why rewrite it this way? And sort of what made you think, yeah, I guess to do it this way. I think honestly, like your fix of like, she becomes a witch's apprentice. I was like, well, yeah, that's that there's an idea. She should like take over or like, I like the idea of her. like turning on her brother like joining the witch just because I like to explore like dark taboo stuff like that like what did she liked it what would compel someone to take her first steps towards that like yeah and then I started yeah and I started sort of writing the

idea of how she was like denying herself like literally food but As a metaphor, women denying themselves, just the basic stuff like food or, you know, our basic needs and wants, because we're told like it's an inconvenience or it's bad for it. You know, like she thinks, well, this is what got me into this mess. When she starts getting mad at him, that was my favorite part, for sure. When she starts being like, hadn't he always eaten like twice as much as me yet she's always obviously thought of herself as a burden? yeah it's like in a twisted way but also like he's so unused to denying himself that he didn't even try yeah didn't even cross his mind didn't even cross his mind to not to like to restrain himself in the presence of like something he wanted yeah so the idea of yeah denying and then

giving in to your desires and what you want in this case human flesh you know Yeah, human flesh, your brother. And then more. More. More. Oh, that's so good. I love that. I just, you know, we love a girl who goes after what she wants. Why did you decide to have her turn on her witchy mentor at the end? I think I'd like the idea of like a continuation of this. cannibal witch in the ginger red house and continuing on yeah and like once I started writing

about like her desire taking over it's like why would she stop there why would she share with the witch why wouldn't she want more you know if not now in the short story like at some point in their sort of apprenticeship whatever this is like at some point she's going to be like why am I sharing with you I could have this all myself I'm bigger and stronger than you now. And yeah, there was a little bit of Baba Yaga in there with the sort of stilted house in the swamp could be chicken legs and like, where is she going every night? She's going out on her mortar and pestle. Hell yes. I love that. Do whenever she does. And like another like name for Baba Yaga is bone mother and she's supposed to be like really skinny and stuff. So yeah, her house is usually

decorated with skulls, right? yeah or like made of bone yeah yeah it's got those skull lamps on the outside yeah that's really cool so very cool yeah so well we're here I know we got some predictions Abby got some good predictions I sure did um I think I I think I can claim bone house and or like bone building materials and witches apprentice I can't remember what my third bone was um it was from the witch's perspective oh okay so I was wrong there, but still. It's from the next witch's person.

That's true. What were yours, Kelsey? The duck, someone gets stabbed with the bone, and a kid does get eaten, so I got one. Yeah, you did. I knew the duck was a long shot, but that just, that part in that story was corrects me up. It's so random. One can hope. One can always dream.

Why not? All right. So Tish suggested that we actually read one in between so we can end on one of her stories Rowan. Orone, sorry. So, yeah, so I'm going to read. It's a bit cheerier, so we'll end on a happier. Yeah, and I'll end up a happy note. And I know that Kelsey is about to tell us something funky and fucked up in Russian.

From our last episode, I watched like all the John Wick movies in a row. So I had to pick something from Bobby Yaga. So I picked a couple of Russian tales that I didn't have time to read in our last episode that just tickled me. So I'm going to read them now. And this is from the Russian fairy tales pantheon. So this one is called the old woman who ran away. Oh my goodness. How long are they?

How many predictions to be cut? It's only like a page and a half. So I'm going to give you two predictions. The old woman who ran away. I like her already. Tish, as our guest, you get to go first with predictions. I get to. Yes, you certainly get to.

Well, you can choose, but do you want to go first or second? I'll go. I have an idea. I think she is running away from a man. It's a solid prediction for really any fairy tale. That's one. I also think that when she runs away, she's going to, I think she's going to stumble upon something that will hurt her, maybe even kill her, like run away and trip and fall into a river and drown or something. I fear for the old woman.

I don't know if she's going to make it. You know what? it's a Russian fairy tale So that's not a bad prediction Let me like a lesson in Why you don't run away women Uh huh All right Abby give me too

I think the old woman Did a crime Did a crime The old do crime I love I believe in women in men's fields And I think women doing crime Is something we should see

More of you need to close that gender gap absolutely there's a gender gap in crime and I think that old women should really work harder on feeling like we said at the top you can have a little misandry as a treat and whatever she's running from catches her okay

okay without further idea the old woman who ran away an old man and his wife sat on the stove the old woman looked at the field through the window and said if we had a little son evankishu and a little daughter alianushka our son would have plowed the fields and sewed the grain and the grain would have grown and our daughter would have mowed it and i would have grown malt brewed beer and invited all my kin but i would not have invited your kin no no no i will invite my own folk not yours The old man. All right. Wow. Like a Romano Juliet situation? I feel like just a little couple's quarrel. They're bickering.

Yeah. Because they don't have these children, right? Like, so this is all, this is all a scenario that he has invented in his head. A theoretical fight. Where, yeah, a theoretical fight about a theoretical problem. Maybe she's sick of his family, like, asking, like, when are you going to have kids? So she doesn't want to fight them over. maybe but if she's an old woman the time is over like so now he's now we're having a theoretical fight about a theoretical family that they don't and can't have at this point so he sounds

like a dick who should be stabbed a little and i hope that's the crime just a light stabbing just a little one until the old man jumped up and began to drag his wife by her braid he dragged and dragged her and finally pushed her off the stove then the old man went to get wood and the old woman made ready to run away. She baked bread and pies and put them in a bag and went to say farewell to a neighbor. Well, she really took her time. Wait, what? She's really taking her time with this running away.

He goes out to get firewood and she's like, I've got some time to bake pies and go say goodbye to the neighbor. She's going to be hungry. She's got, you know, she's planning it out. Yeah. She's like gone girling this. She's got plans. She does. schemes within schemes

Well somehow The old man got wind of it Returned home Took out of the bag Everything his wife had prepared for her trip Put the bread and pies in the larder And sat himself in the bag The old woman came home

Place the bag on her shoulders And set off on her journey No you gotta do one last check After walking for five or six verse She stopped and said It would be nice to sit on a tree stump Now and eat a cake The old man cried from the bag

I can see everything I can hear everything Ah the accursed devil He might catch me Thought the old woman And went on What So she doesn't realize

He's saying that from the bag She just thinks he's like In shouting distance Right Again she walked up for about Six verse and said It would be nice to sit on a tree stump now And eat a cake

I can see everything I can hear everything cried the old man Again she hurried on she walked many verse and not having eaten or drunk anything she got so tired that her strength failed her come what may i will stop here thought the old woman i will have a little rest and a bite then she discovered that her husband was in the bag no she begged him little father forgive me and i will never try to run away again the old man forgave her and they went home together

the end. Boo. Boo. Wah. What, wum. Okay, I would like to... I would like to advocate for a point for myself because technically there was crime, she kidnapped him.

Was that a crime if she doesn't know she's doing it? I think the crime is in... And he consented by her braid. That's domestic abuse. I mean, I meant crime that she did, because that was my prediction, is that she did crime. No, she's heard. He did lots of crime. She did anything ever.

Obviously, my fix is that she eats him instead of a cake. Right. Yes. Absolutely. I do love, I really relate to her just every so often on your walk. I think this is a good place to sit on a tree stump and have a cake. Yeah. That's how I go hiking.

I think it's time for a little snack. I get a little snack now. I've done lots of walking. yeah so yeah i think yep yeah i think yep she was running away from a man and she did stumble upon something that hurts her it was her husband it was your husband yeah so you got those two points oopsie dopsy um and ab you got one point for whatever she's running from catches her yeah well i mean tactively he was never chasing her She brought him along.

Damn, she's strong. She packed a lot of pies. Yeah. She packed a husband's weight of pies. Of husband's weight worth of pies. Incredible. She should have, like, tied the top of the sack and, like, left him alone in the woods to be eaten by bears or something. And then gone home and had a nice life.

Yeah. Yeah. I feel like. And go home and eat all your pies. This is a perfect story example of why we need Tish's book. so badly because so many of them are like this the next one i was going to read which i don't know if i have time it's only it's like one page actually should i read it just do it's just it's called the grumbling old woman i just want to know because you've been teasing these for the

past two episodes and so i honestly after i read that i kind of forgot what was in it and i kind of wondering where i was going with that so i feel like maybe the next one will make more sense We'll all find that together. That's great. Like, I definitely read these, but it was like four weeks ago. Okay. All right. Was this a grumbling old woman? The crumbling old woman, which is like one page.

So maybe both of me just give me one prediction. I'm going to go with that she's grumbling about a man. I love it. Seems solid. That's probably accurate. I'm going to say she's grumbling about those darn kids. Okay. Those darn kids.

I'm trying to remember where I was going with this. I'm excited. I think it's because we've been reading stories about old women lately. Yes. And so you just were very excited to find some stories about old women. That might be it. I feel like these were also those kind of typical Russian fairy tales that just kind of were nonsensical and didn't really make a lot of sense. like it was sort of just just you know here's a story okay the grumbling old woman night and day a

certain old stepmother grumbled one wondered why her tongue did not ache she grumbled always at her stepdaughter the girl was not clever enough and not pretty enough no matter where she went or sat or stood it was never right never as it should be and so the stepmother grumbled from dawn till dark like a goose la all wound up a goose la did i say that right what he what hold on we're going to look up goose la it's gus la okay uh the almighty google says it's a single stringed bowed musical instrument primarily used in the balkans okay so neat okay okay she wearied her husband to death and everyone else too felt like running away from the house one day the husband harnessed a horse to carry millet to town and his wife cried take your daughter too take her anywhere you want to the dark forest only to get her out of my way i hate this for everyone but i do love this for me yes you are correct those darn kids it's those darn kids

and everything it sounds like mm-hmm that's true yeah she's just a grumbling old woman she's a she's a fucking naggy bitch women are terrible They never stop talking About their discontent Has nothing to do with me Or what I might be doing To cause the discontent

Nothing can please them No There's no No They're so unhappy all the time God The old man She must be on her period

Mm-hmm Somebody's on the rag The old man took his daughter It was along a difficult road with woods and swamps all around. Where could he leave the maiden? He spied a little hut on chicken legs. Oh, he's actually doing it?

Like, it's not just like, hey, kid, come with me for the afternoon. Let's give your mom a break. It's, well, she told me to ditch the kid. So that's what I'm doing. Happy wife, happy life. Have you met a fairy tale man, Abby? I hate fairy tale men. They're terrible.

And it's presumably his kid and her step-kid. They're the worst. Fairy tale dad of the air. Who! Well, he spied a little hut on chicken legs, supported by a cake and covered with a pancake. I feel like this is matching your story perfectly right now. Damn.

And the little hut turned round and round. He thought it would be best to leave his daughter in this little hut. So he put her down from his cart, gave her some millet for gruel, whipped his horse, and vanished from sight. the maiden remained alone she pounded some millet and cooked a great deal of gruel but there was no one to eat it night came i mean she can eat it i guess well i but i think i think she made like a family size meal because that's maybe that's all she knows how to make maybe she's not used to cooking for one yeah like the cook from a girls five ever yes the cafeteria lunch

guy who just makes like sorry this is a very joke for me and Navi, you can definitely cut that out. The only two people who watched Girls Five, Eva. There's like a cafeteria guy and he makes like, cafeteria says. Anyway. One of the women is dating a cafeteria man.

What was his name? I can't remember his name, but he always cooks things in like batches for 50 people. The lunch lord. Okay. Sorry. The lunch lord. Yeah.

Stupid. Anyway, so she's the lunch lord. she should go move in with the lunch lord yes okay but there was no one to eat it night came long and terrifying she felt that to sleep would wear out her sides to look at the dark would tire her eyes and there was no one to exchange a word with it was boring and fearsome boring and fearsome she stood on the threshold open the door nearest the forest and called out whoever is in the forest in the dark night Let him come be my guest. A wood goblin answered her call and turned into a brave youth.

Oh, dope. A Novgorod merchant. Did I say that Novgorod? Sure. He came into the little hut and brought a present for his hostess. This is like the Babiaga origin story. He just left her at the hut. I was wondering, like, is Baba Jaga in that hut?

Or is it free for this girl to you? Doesn't sound like it. It sounds like she's just going to live in this pancake hut now. Pancake cut. Didn't you say it was about a cake and has a pancake on top? Honestly, this sounds amazing. And now like random forest goblins are just going to come show up and bring you presents. This is the Babiaga origin story.

I love it. After that, he came in for a chat quite often and sometimes he would bring her a gift. He brought her so many gifts that there was no place to put them. Meanwhile, the grumbling old woman found life empty without her stepdaughter. It was quiet in her house. In her house. Why are you saying it like that? It was quiet in her house.

In a house. Fuck. She felt queasy and her tongue was parched. Go, husband. She said, get my stepdaughter. Raise her from the bottom of the sea. Snatch her out of the fire. I am old.

I am sickly. And there was no one to end to me. the husband did she ask and the stepdaughter returned when she opened her coffer and hung out her things on a rope that stretched from the house to the gate the old woman who had opened her mouth to greet her in customary abusive way pursed her lips seated the welcome guest under the icon and said to her civilly what is your pleasure madam yeah the end that's the end that's it that's the end of the story she just changed her mind she's like maybe

miss her i missed her maybe i shouldn't be a bitch because she has a household of her own to of her own now that she could leave this feels so a lot of the stories in here feel like this where it feels like it took different paragraphs from different stories and mixed them up it doesn't make any sense you know well and that's a lot of dropped plot threads too because i'm like wait what happened to the what happened to the goblin youth that comes by and brings her presents she'd be like i don't want to go home dad i have my own house now. It's made of cake. I have this friend who brings me gifts. Yeah. Yeah. This is actually pretty great. I don't go back to a grumbly woman. Yeah. Like, then my mean stepmother and my horrible

absentee father are no longer a part of my life. Yeah, that's my fix for the story as she doesn't go home. Yep. Me too. And she just becomes Bama Yaga. Yeah. And maybe the grumbling old woman's stepmother, if she truly feels bad, can come visit her there and be nice and respect her boundaries and they can form a relationship independent of the horrible absentee father that I'm sure is a cause of a lot of the reasons why the stepmother is such a fucking grouch. Yeah. I feel like she only wanted her stepdaughter back. She's like, no one will take care of me.

She still didn't like her. She was just like, go get me. this free labor back. Oh, that's fair. Because he wasn't doing it. Damn straight. So anyway, you both got a point. She was grumbling about literally everything.

Mostly about that darn kid, but. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. You know, she's just grumbling. Maybe she just really needs like a massage. Maybe her joints hurt. Mm-hmm. Yeah.

I don't know. Life's hard in. Russia back then. Yes. All right. I'm super excited to hear this next story. Okay. So I'm going to tell my story, Rhone. So this is, well, first I'll say it's called Rhone. So all my stories have like a nature name. It just ended up like that. So Rhone is like a coat on horses or other livestock, and it means the colors mixed with white. So, and I thought it sounded like a cool name. So it is, yeah, that's great.

That's what Roan is. And this is my Tatterhood story. And there's also, it's such a happy story. And it's also mixed with, I put a little bit of diamonds and toads in there. Oh, my two favorites. Classic. This is excellent. I'm very excited about this.

And you say it's a cheerier story. Yeah. I don't need any warnings for this one. Okay. Excellent. Good. Okay. Fantastic.

I only, because the thing is for all of the characters in both of those stories, I only want nice things. Let's see. How many predictions to we get? You can do three again. It's about the same length. Okay.

I'll go first this time. go first this time, yep. I predict that toads come out of a man's mouth. Oh, delightful. Very fun. Because that's what I want. I also predict gay. Damn it, I was going to say lesbians.

I mean, I suppose you still could. I still could say lesbians. It's a very specific type of gay. I mean, that's just what I imagine when I think of Tatterhood. But anyway, three, I predict, oh gosh, I want to predict a sword fight. Because that's also what I want to see with Tatterhood. Sword lesbians. That's all what's what I want all day long.

Tatterhood and the fairy from Toes and Diamonds get together. Okay. After a sword fight that they have with each other, like enemies to lover's style. Anyway. That's hot. I want that. That sounds great. I predict pirates.

An interrupted wedding. Lesbians. All right. Yeah, that's it. That's it. This is what I want to see in the world. from actually most stories generally I want pirates interrupted weddings and lesbians

is I like drama and I like romance and I like swashbuckling and yeah solid that sounds like a solid story honestly yeah I will say most of my characters don't have any romance but like my own head canon is everyone's queer so beautiful excellent

all right so this is Roan My sister came back from the well with frog, snakes, and other slithery, slimy, creatures falling from her mouth. I suppressed a grin. It couldn't have happened to anyone more deserving. What had been an ordinary day of my youth became quite exciting as mother wouldn't let my sister in the house, shewing her off to the small pond on the edge of the estate.

I followed in morbid curiosity. The household gathered around and tried to understand what she was trying to say between fat bullfrog stuffing her cheeks or a millipede scurrying over her lips and across her teeth. Disgusting. No, trigger warning for Millipede. I'm sorry. How dare you? She seemed to be blaming a fat, ugly, old witch. Despite her condition, she didn't skimp on the rude remarks, whom she had met at the well while collecting water for the house. I was surprised to find out she had been at the well. She rarely did any chores. being mother's favorite she was let off the hook for any manner of excuses she had tea with the family of a gentleman suitor she had piano or french lessons skills to make her more attractive to a suitor she couldn't get dirty doing chores god forbid a potential suitor happened to see her like that or she simply could not handle the manual labor of such things as a broom or a feather duster with her You got to keep the sensitive ladylike constitution.

You'd think I was some sort of diseased farm animal for all mother cared about my marriage ability. But that was fine by me as I cared just as little. All mother had wanted was a beautiful daughter to raise to be just like her and marry off to another rich man. She prayed and prayed for her perfect daughter, but she had no luck with that. So she asked some lady how she became a mother, and the woman gave her instructions for a ritual that would give her a beautiful child. But my mother wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, and she did the ritual wrong and got me first, the ugly daughter from the ugly flower. Even before my sister was born, I had grown to my full size, almost as wide as I was tall and no taller than but other's knees, found a tattered riding cloak to wear and taken to riding my goat while holding my wooden spoon. I don't know why, it just felt right.

It just feels right. Yes, I love tatterhood. Tatterhood's amazing. yeah fun fun twist on the story to make to make uh the bianca of it all sort of like the bad sister um i know i love their relationship in the tatterhood tale that they're like bff twins but i don't know i kind of ended up writing both at the same time and i was like well but i genuinely do like this because tatterhood in the tatterhood story is the quote unquote bad sister but there is even though we know she's not bad because she's the protagonist but we still but there's a clear

good sister still. And in this one, it's like the beautiful one is the bad sister. And then the one waving her wooden spoon around is not the wicked, the wicked hussy sister. The pert hussy. The pert hussy.

Yeah, I'm just saying I love this so far. I love where you're going with it. You know, continue please. Sorry. My sister was born from the beautiful flower that came from the ritual and was named accordingly, Dahlia. Mother didn't so much name me as she started referring to me as that loud, roan goat, unable to separate my identity from my goats.

So I took on roan as my name. Growing up, my sister was raised in mother's image while I stayed out of her in mother's way. No one really cared what I was up to. So Capra, my goat and I, moving together as if we were one being, did the chores and took care of ourselves. I didn't know anyone else with a goat as a best friend, but maybe they just weren't as lucky as I was. With my wooden spoon and tattered cloak, I had everything I needed to take care of myself and have fun. So cute. Adorable.

And her goats name Capra is just like the Latin for the genus that is goats. So her goat is basically named goat. I love that the goat. That sounded like a nice name. All right. As Dahlia continued to spew toads and vipers into the pond, I dared to inquire about what was nagging at my mind. Why had she even gone to the well? She pointed to a young, handsome man I hadn't noticed,

was among my family members and household staff, and they managed to make out some words like, Good wife and housework. I couldn't help but laugh at them all. She had wanted to impress her suitor by showing she contributed to household chores and failed miserably. Still chuckling to myself.

I left the crowd to go fetch the water myself. I assumed the buckets were still at the well since she hadn't come back with anything. I trotted along pleasantly. She doesn't know what she's doing anyway. I trotted along pleasantly with Capra to the well and saw one bucket on the ground beside the well, the other presumably down the well. I began to pull up the rope hoping the bucket was still attached. It seemed to be since it felt heavy, maybe even heavier than water.

What had my sister done caught the bucket on something? When the bucket finally came up, I saw what the extra weight was, a fat, ugly old witch. Not what I expected to pull up from a well, but what was I to do, but helped me. the old woman out of there. She stood even shorter than I did at top caprow. We'd probably have seen eye to eye had I stood on the ground. She thanked me for saving her and recounted how she had ended up down the well. She was on a long journey and had stopped at the well in need of water to keep going, but without a bucket or so much as a cup or canteen, she couldn't collect water for herself. A beautiful young woman had come to the well with two buckets and the old witch

had asked the young woman for help to retrieve some water. The young woman had been so rude that she not only refused to share her water, but then pushed the old witch down into the well so she wouldn't have to listen to her anymore. Wow. Well, that sure sounded like my sister. I told the witch as much and asked her how she cast the spell to make my sister spew the slimyest and slitheriest creatures from her mouth. Ah, the old witch chuckled, an old protection curse must have taken effect. She said she mostly liked to use her magic to help people and always found help along her journey. My sister was the first stranger she'd met Who'd been so cruel as to bring the curse upon herself

I told the witch of all the creatures I'd seen falling and crawling from my sister's mouth And we both laughed Good to know I've still got it Said the witch smugly I put the bucket back down the well And brought up water for us both to have a drink Freshly hydrated, the witch perked up

And offered to repay me for my kindness I want for nothing, I said I've got my tattered hood, my sturdy goat My wooden spoon and now the joy of watching my beautiful sticitor spew reptiles from our mouth. What more could I need? Thank you so much. This has been a great day for me.

I love it. Jewels, she said. She insisted on jewels. I wouldn't know what to do with them, I started to say, but she interrupted with a spell, and suddenly my words were replaced with jewels falling out of my mouth. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls, and even chunks of gold fell all over Capra. I caught some in my spoon to inspect. This one sentence's amount of mouth jewels

Was already more than I'd need in a lifetime The witch looked pleased with herself But I said through jewels That this was actually very inconvenient She looked disappointed but reversed the spell I tested it out by thanking her I felt some chipped teeth Yeah

For real Yeah, for real We gather the jewels in The fairies in like Ella Enchanted Where they're like, nope, you're welcome I just did do a huge favor forever You're welcome goodbye. You're welcome goodbye.

Yeah, that's a terrible. That's like just as much of a curse. Yeah. If not worse, yeah, chipped teeth, that would hurt. I don't know. I really draw the line at Millipede. I could even handle like the snakes and the frogs and no. Too many legs.

Oh, God. We gathered the jewels into my satchel, and I filled both buckets with water ready to head. back home. I wished the witch well on her journey and she said something about my cloak, goat, and spoon being exactly what I needed at any given time. I agreed. I had already told her they were all I needed, but she had that cheeky look in her eye after she'd cast the jewels spell. I picked up my buckets to head home and she walked off on another path. Days went by with many doctors and educated men coming by the house to inspect Dahlia. Mother was embarrassed and

frustrated not to have her perfect daughter. I once suggested that Dalia find the witch who cursed her and apologize that perhaps an act of kindness would undo the consequences of her act of cruelty. Apologize, Mother Screech. That witch is the one who should apologize. Dalia, while keeping her mouth shut, also expressed the ridiculousness of my suggestion. Probably just kind of like to try to help them after that. Until one day, when I heard a rumble and then another, and then I felt, I felt it. I was out in the field playing with the other goats when I saw it. The trees of the forest were shaking. Something big was making its way toward our home. I turned to run back to the

house to warn everyone, and that's when I saw the first one. Trolls. Yeah, get at it. We thought trolls were only a problem for people in the north. What were they doing down here? Never mind why. What were we going to do? As I entered the house, Mother and Dalia were scrambling to gather their most precious belongings into trunks and calling for the carriage to be brought. There's no time, I told them. I gestured to two large goats that had followed me home through the open gate. Get on and let's go, I insisted. They ignored me, no surprise. The trolls were slow for their size, but each of their slow steps still covered a lot of ground. They were getting dangerously close. Our whole estate would be kindling, us included, if we didn't get

going in the opposite direction quickly. But my stupid family continued to run around aimlessly screaming. I'd never get them out of here in time. I had to get the trolls to stop or change course. Not sure which of the troll stories I'd heard in my life were truth or myth. I did the first thing that came to mind. I'd heard trolls were quite ignorant rather than evil. They'd destroyed everything they came across because they didn't think to walk around it. But they didn't use any human language, so I couldn't just ask them to change course. I charged towards them without a solid, plan, Capra moving me as fast as I could. At the moment I wished I could go faster, Capra expanded beneath me quickly and was suddenly

a tall steed galloping faster than I'd ever gone. There were several trolls out of the forest now, stumbling toward me, and the thought that I should probably have a weapon of some kind crossed my mind. I suddenly found my wooden spoon had turned into a large shining sword. Yes. I'm still mad that the, like, tatterhead, it turns into a wand. That's so... Yeah, dumb.

So boring. Love this. Okay. Well, this just got dangerous, I thought, and I found my tattered riding cloak had turned into armor. I had turned into a knight in shining armor atop my valance deed, rushing towards danger to save my family. I really had no choice now. I'd have to be the one to stop these trolls. And I just want you to picture this scene.

If it was made for the screen, the song playing would be Don't Stop Me Now by Queen. Oh, very nice. Yeah, excellent. We're having a good time. We're having a good time. Incredible. I suspected their eyesight wasn't too good either because they didn't notice my white horse and glistening armor until I was quite close to them, almost beneath their feet. When they finally noticed me, they came to a stop to look down at me in curiosity.

I yelled up some polite demands for them to go back from once they came, but I don't think their hearing was very good either. realizing I'd get nowhere without a way to communicate, my sword changed into a shepherd's horn. I blew into it, and the trolls, who had already begun losing interest, all stopped and looked at me again. I blew out a few more notes, and the trolls began to take steps closer to me. I steered my steed toward the forest on the other side of the field, away from her home, blowing my horn all the time. The trolls, almost trance-like, began to follow. With my horse at full speed, the trolls kept up easily with their slow but fast steps. At the edge of the forest, I kept going as far as I could until the brush became too thick for Capra to continue.

The trolls caught up quickly, and I dodged their huge feet as they continued past us into the forest. They kept going in that direction until I could no longer feel the rumble of their steps. I rode back home to my family. My horn turned back into my wooden spoon. My armor became my soft tattered cloak again. And finally, as I got closed, my speedy steed became my beloved Capra again. And we trotted back through the gate to find much. commotion, but not about the trolls. The rest of the goats had come through the gate I'd

forgotten to close, trying to get away from the trolls. And they were now throughout the gardens in the house eating all the precious items my family had brought out to try to bring them with them in their escape. So no one had noticed I'd just totally saved their lives and home. I just got yelled at for leaving the gate open. My sister's complaints came forth with more toads and vipers, which actually helped scare some of the goats away. I looked at around at the chaos and remembered what the witch had said. I've got everything I need right here, I thought. And a satchel full of jewels. So I turned around and trotted off down the path to find a new home for me, my tattered hood, my trusty goat, and my wooden spout. The end.

I love it. Excellent. So cute. But also like, damn, I'm also a little sad that they didn't like notice or give her any thanks. Friken poor, poor tatterhood, you know? that's just how it is sometimes people don't sometimes your family or people around you do not really see you for who you are and they don't appreciate you and it's time to move on yep and find your people absolutely yeah so I started writing this I knew I wanted to write something tatterhood and something toads and diamonds because I like both of those and it came out as both and with toads and diamonds what I wanted to do was in that type of story the good sister bad sister kind of story it's always like the good sister goes first and gets her reward and then it's like, oh, well, I'll send my other daughter and you know, and she gets punished instead. But I thought it would mean so much more if it happened in the other order that the like bad sister got punished and then the good sister being good and

kind would go forth and like meet that same witch or fairy or mermaids and still be nice to her even though she had already like done some bad magic on her sister. I thought that would like mean more for how nice that character is. So I switched it and then. Even though they know the risks. Yeah. Of like interacting with this entity at all. And maybe like, well, you know, I know my sister deserved it.

So maybe the switch isn't so bad. I love the little like conversation after that and like her giggling and making fun of. Yeah. I do I do love pointing out that it's like this is actually deeply inconvenient. Thank you so much. But, like, I also love, like, I love the way you did, like, the magic object that she gets in, she gets an exchange instead, but it's like her, her wishes are always fulfilled. Like, she's always got the things that she needs.

And I like that the things that she needs are like, mostly just herself, like, herself and her good friend, like the goat. And that's, and that's really it. and she has the ability to go out, to go forth into the world and, like, figure out what she wants to do with her life, regardless of, like, the kind of people her mother and her sister are. I love that. Yeah. Yeah, I love Rhone. That was really cute.

I love that you combine those two stories. That was really fun. I wasn't sure where you were going to go with it at first. So that was really fun. Yeah, I know it's kind of, because I love Tatterhood and her sister, like, as from the Tatterhood tale. and I didn't use that. I cut that. So I'll have to write another

tattered story that focuses on like the twins on their adventures. Yeah. I would love to see that too. I would love like, I'm very excited for whatever like second anthology you put out after this one.

But I thought this was a really fun thing on it. Oh, excellent. My next one's going to be hopefully out November next year because it is a collection of winter tales. So it's going to be like Santa and Crompice and we'll have to get you back on the podcast to read a couple more if you wouldn't mind. I would love that. We'll do it a little bit better timing so we can coincide with the actual book coming out.

Yeah. But for this one, I was wondering should we do a giveaway? Like a little social media giveaway. Okay, cool. So by the time this comes out, it will be August. So make sure to go check our Instagram and we'll do like a little collaboration. Give a win you could win. Tish's awesome book.

That's so exciting. Thank you. I'm planning on doing one in October for the like six month. Like a book box with like lots of things like book and like I have these earrings that I got that are ebony wood. Nice. Very cool. Yeah, yeah. Stuff like that.

Anyway. Make sure to go. follow Tish on Instagram and yeah go buy your book we'll have it in our show and we'll direct link it and also a review on Amazon leave a review yes that really helps so everybody make sure to pause this go to Amazon real fast and leave a positive review yeah you've heard at least two of the stories you could all right oh your predictions for yeah we go in a row failures failures all around. We did not,

we did not catch the vibes of this one as well as we did the first one. I was happy that it turned into a sword, but there was no sword fight. So, you know, she didn't, she didn't need it in the end. It was a peaceful. Yeah.

I love, I always love giants and trolls and when they're not evil. You know, it's like they're just different. They just don't understand. We're just little ants to them and they just don't think to care. Yeah. Yeah. I also really like that, that twist on it in that detail.

But no, next time. So, like, your notes for next time are sword lesbians, pirates, and, yeah, some sort of, like, big interrupted wedding to do. Okay. I think I'm working on, because I'm writing a million things, I'm working on, like, a story collection that would be, like, like, the stories blend in together. So the kind of protagonist from one becomes a protagonist in the next one. Oh, fun. They blend together like that. And I think one of them is going to be like Hansl and Gretel, but like the one that continues where she like joins a pirate ship and then gets swallowed by a fish or whatever. So I think I'm going with that. So like there might be pirates in that one.

Fantastic. Excellent. The dream. I think that's going to do it for us today. Thank you again, Tish, for coming on. We were so excited to have you. Those stories were amazing. Everybody go buy your book right now.

So obviously, no fixes for Tish's tales. They were the fix. Thank you. The old woman who ran away took her husband out of the bag and ate him instead of cake. Excellent. And everyone listening to this episode immediately ran over to Amazon or Goodreads and left a glowing five stars only. Thank you very much.

Review for Tish's book. and they all lived happily ever after the end