SPoots
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2017
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- 188
I recently wrote a children's story about a Dullahan (because when looking for ideas my mind seems to reset to Dullahan) for a monster themed anthology aimed at kids aged 6-9.
Some of my beta readers have advised changing it to something more generic, like a troll, while another beta reader has adamantly opposed this. Could you please take a look at this segment and tell me your opinion?
It pointed a long white finger at Mary. “I am the Dullahan,” it said in a voice that boomed like thunder, “and I have come for you today, Mary Calhoun.”
“Where’s your head?” Mary asked.
“What?” The Dullahan said, sounding puzzled.
“Your head. Where is it?” Mary asked again. “You need to have a head.” She took a step to the left. Then a step to the right. “Can you see me if you have no eyes?”
“Of course I can see you!” The Dullahan yelled.
“Wow!” Mary said. “You must be really good at hide and seek!”
The Dullahan didn’t have a face, so it could not look confused. It coughed and tried again. “I have come for you, Mary Calhoun. I will take you away to the land of fairy-“
“You’re not a fairy,” Mary said.
“Yes I am,” The Dullahan said. “We fairies have lived for many years. We walk unseen, we sing, we dance, we steal people away and leave terror behind. We – “
“You don’t look like a fairy,” Mary said.
The Dullahan growled. “Oh, have you seen a lot of fairies then?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Before the Dullahan could do anything, she reached out and took its hand. She pulled the Dullahan behind her into the house. They went past the kitchen, where her dad was still singing.
“Where are you going, Mary?” Dad asked.
“I’m showing the Dullahan what a fairy looks like, Dad.”
Dad looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “OK love, have fun. Dullahan. That’s a nice name for an invisible friend.”
“Why didn’t Dad see you?” Mary asked as she led the Dullahan up the stairs.
“Only children can see the fairies,” The Dullahan said. “Which proves I am a fairy!”
Mary shook her head. “Nope. Look.”
She opened the door to the play room. The floor was messy with all her toys. Mary stepped over a teddy bear, tiptoed past a puzzle, and ran over to a red chest in the corner. She opened it up and began throwing costumes onto the floor.
Behind her, something squeaked. “Don’t touch that!” she snapped.
The Dullahan dropped the teddy. “Sorry.”
Mary looked and looked inside the chest and at last pulled out a pair of wings on stretchy straps. She put her arms through the straps, making them go twing and twong. Then she found her wand. It had a star on it. “See? I’m a fairy now,” she said. She danced around the Dullahan, spinning like a ballerina.
“Not all fairies have wings,” the Dullahan said. It sounded grumpy.
“Yes they do," Mary said. “And wands like this one.” And she tapped the Dullahan with the star and said “Ting!”
The Dullahan drew in a deep breath. Then it sat down on the floor and started to cry.
“It’s not fair,” The Dullahan said. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. I am a fairy! Just because I don’t have wings...”
Mary stopped dancing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can be a fairy if you want to.”
The Dullahan just cried louder. He hammered his hands on the floor. He kicked and kicked and had the biggest temper tantrum Mary had ever seen. She reached up her sleeve and pulled out the tissue her dad put there every morning. She walked over to the Dullahan and held it up to where she thought its nose might be.
“There, there,” she said. “Have a good blow.”
The Dullahan did, making a noise like an elephant.
“I’m sorry,” the Dullahan said. “It’s just the other fairies don’t like me.”
Mary nodded. “Is it because you’re big and don’t have a head.”
The Dullahan nodded. “And no wings.” It gave a big sigh. “Even the ugliest fairies have wings. But not me. I never had any wings. They all laugh and point and call me names.”
“I thought fairies were nice,” Mary said. She couldn’t find a bin for the tissue, so she put it back up her sleeve.
“Not if you don’t have wings,” The Dullahan said in its voice like thunder.
Mary thought about this. She walked around the Dullahan, who was sitting on her teddy bear. It looked scary in its big, black coat, with nothing where its head should be, but it sounded so miserable.
Some of my beta readers have advised changing it to something more generic, like a troll, while another beta reader has adamantly opposed this. Could you please take a look at this segment and tell me your opinion?
Fairy Wings (Dullahan)
A gust of wind slammed the door open. Mary had to hang on or she would have been blown away too. Someone was at the door. A big someone, a someone in a black, billowy coat that flapped and snapped. Mary looked up and up and up, and then she stopped because the someone had no up left. They had no head!
It pointed a long white finger at Mary. “I am the Dullahan,” it said in a voice that boomed like thunder, “and I have come for you today, Mary Calhoun.”
“Where’s your head?” Mary asked.
“What?” The Dullahan said, sounding puzzled.
“Your head. Where is it?” Mary asked again. “You need to have a head.” She took a step to the left. Then a step to the right. “Can you see me if you have no eyes?”
“Of course I can see you!” The Dullahan yelled.
“Wow!” Mary said. “You must be really good at hide and seek!”
The Dullahan didn’t have a face, so it could not look confused. It coughed and tried again. “I have come for you, Mary Calhoun. I will take you away to the land of fairy-“
“You’re not a fairy,” Mary said.
“Yes I am,” The Dullahan said. “We fairies have lived for many years. We walk unseen, we sing, we dance, we steal people away and leave terror behind. We – “
“You don’t look like a fairy,” Mary said.
The Dullahan growled. “Oh, have you seen a lot of fairies then?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Before the Dullahan could do anything, she reached out and took its hand. She pulled the Dullahan behind her into the house. They went past the kitchen, where her dad was still singing.
“Where are you going, Mary?” Dad asked.
“I’m showing the Dullahan what a fairy looks like, Dad.”
Dad looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “OK love, have fun. Dullahan. That’s a nice name for an invisible friend.”
“Why didn’t Dad see you?” Mary asked as she led the Dullahan up the stairs.
“Only children can see the fairies,” The Dullahan said. “Which proves I am a fairy!”
Mary shook her head. “Nope. Look.”
She opened the door to the play room. The floor was messy with all her toys. Mary stepped over a teddy bear, tiptoed past a puzzle, and ran over to a red chest in the corner. She opened it up and began throwing costumes onto the floor.
Behind her, something squeaked. “Don’t touch that!” she snapped.
The Dullahan dropped the teddy. “Sorry.”
Mary looked and looked inside the chest and at last pulled out a pair of wings on stretchy straps. She put her arms through the straps, making them go twing and twong. Then she found her wand. It had a star on it. “See? I’m a fairy now,” she said. She danced around the Dullahan, spinning like a ballerina.
“Not all fairies have wings,” the Dullahan said. It sounded grumpy.
“Yes they do," Mary said. “And wands like this one.” And she tapped the Dullahan with the star and said “Ting!”
The Dullahan drew in a deep breath. Then it sat down on the floor and started to cry.
“It’s not fair,” The Dullahan said. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. I am a fairy! Just because I don’t have wings...”
Mary stopped dancing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can be a fairy if you want to.”
The Dullahan just cried louder. He hammered his hands on the floor. He kicked and kicked and had the biggest temper tantrum Mary had ever seen. She reached up her sleeve and pulled out the tissue her dad put there every morning. She walked over to the Dullahan and held it up to where she thought its nose might be.
“There, there,” she said. “Have a good blow.”
The Dullahan did, making a noise like an elephant.
“I’m sorry,” the Dullahan said. “It’s just the other fairies don’t like me.”
Mary nodded. “Is it because you’re big and don’t have a head.”
The Dullahan nodded. “And no wings.” It gave a big sigh. “Even the ugliest fairies have wings. But not me. I never had any wings. They all laugh and point and call me names.”
“I thought fairies were nice,” Mary said. She couldn’t find a bin for the tissue, so she put it back up her sleeve.
“Not if you don’t have wings,” The Dullahan said in its voice like thunder.
Mary thought about this. She walked around the Dullahan, who was sitting on her teddy bear. It looked scary in its big, black coat, with nothing where its head should be, but it sounded so miserable.
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