On today’s episode of Disney heroines that hold up surprisingly well . . .

Alright, I don’t actually know if I’ll turn this into a series or not. You’ll have to let me know in the comments below whether you think it would be worth my while.

But for now enjoy my assorted thoughts gathered from watching a Disney classic with my siblings.

Classic Disney movies get a lot of flack. And sometimes it’s deserved. Outdated and hurtful cultural representation can pop up out of nowhere. Heroines are subjected to sexist interpretations. And I still want to shake some sense into Ariel’s head. Classic stories can at times be a land mine.

But sometimes, classic films surprise me. Sometimes they seem to know how to craft characters and stories better than we do today, or at the very least, in a different way than we use now.

We live in a different time, and therefore the tools at our disposal and the effect they have are different. But we can still learn a lot from the classics, both things we shouldn’t do and things we should start again.

And I found some in the 1953 Disney classic Peter Pan, of all places.

Before we get started, we need to address that elephant in the room. Or crocodile. Or however you wish to refer to it.

Remember what I said about outdated and hurtful cultural representation? I don’t feel that I can write about this film without acknowledging that this film uses racist caricatures against Native Americans. Despite all her other wins, Wendy and the other characters in the film reinforce these stereotypes. In no way, shape, or form do I condone the caricatures and stereotypes in this film. They were wrong then and they’re wrong now. This is one of those cases where we can learn from what they did wrong, so we can avoid those mistakes in our own writing and real-life interactions.

Now let’s get started. Because this is an article about a Disney heroine that held up surprisingly well in the decades between then and now.

And I’m talking about none other than Wendy herself.

If I’m truthful, Wendy always irked me just a little bit when I was younger. Peter and the other boys got to have sword fights and outsmart pirates and Wendy got to sit there on the rock and watch. It seemed like she was pushed aside and forced to look on while the boys got to have the real fun.

And yes, a Wendy sword fight would have been epic.

But on my most recent watch through, I realized that Wendy is an especially strong heroine, and in many ways counter cultural to the era that she was created in. She might have a few things to say about our own heroines as well. 

The Real Leader of the Lost Boys

If I asked you who the leader and protector of the Lost Boys was, most of us would answer Peter. And the movie likes to pretend it agrees.

But there’s only one person that can get the boys in line with only a few words.

And it’s not Peter. It’s Wendy.

From the very start, Wendy is the leader and protector of her brothers. She sticks up for them against their easily angered father, even when gets her banished from the nursery.

Her leadership and protection extends to the Lost Boys. She reminds the boys of who they really are and what they really want. With only a few words, she reminds them that they really do want to go home. When pirates capture them all, the boys would have caved immediately had she not been there. Wendy rallies them against the pirates and encourages them to stand strong in their beliefs, even when it looks hopeless.

So from the start to the end, Wendy plays a traditionally masculine role in the story, even though it’s never stated outright.

And yet she does it all without becoming controlling, or quite frankly, ending up like Peter himself. Peter has to rule through control and putting others down, while Wendy’s kindness makes her strong.

Wendy is the only person who can see through Peter’s bravado and call him out on it. She is the only person who disagrees with him and questions him. And when it comes down to it, she’s the one who’s willing to outright defy him and leave.

And this movie was made in the 50s! Fifties-era girls rarely got to be the leaders or protectors of anything. Which makes Wendy even more astounding.

Your Mother and Mine

When Disney remade Peter Pan in 2023, I stumbled upon an ill-fated review of the film. The reviewer criticized the fact that Wendy took a more pivotal role and joined in on the fights alongside the boys. “It takes away the core of her personality, her very femininity!” they bemoaned. “Wendy was and always will be a mother.”

I have to wonder if they watched the same Wendy that I did.

(To be fair, I wasn’t a huge fan of the remake either, but that wasn’t the reason why.)

Peter Pan—both the movie and the character—seems determined to push Wendy into the mother role. The only reason Wendy gets to go to Neverland at all—even though she’s the one who believes in it the most—is because Peter thinks she might take care of them.

But Wendy quietly pushes back against this, too.

During the extremely cringeworthy scene in the natives’ camp, Wendy is told that she cannot join the celebration with the boys. She’s told that her job is to gather firewood and clean up after everyone else. And what’s her response? To quietly fall in line?

Nope. She straight up just goes home.

But even as she quietly insists she’s worth more than cleaning up after the boys, she also recognizes and celebrates the immense value of motherhood.

Even as she recognizes that she has worth beyond cleaning up after the boys, she also recognizes the immense value of motherhood. It shapes a pivotal moment in the film and in the Lost Boys’ lives. (Mary Darling deserves her own mention here too as a rare and fantastic example of a Disney mom.)

Wendy can say that she’s not the Lost Boys’ mother even as she celebrates mothers. She doesn’t have to tear down one to lift the other up. That dynamic is becoming a rare and beautiful art.

Wendy recognizes that she has worth beyond what she can do for the Lost Boys.

Wendy’s Wonder                
              
And yet she remains one of the most idealistic characters in the film.

That’s the best thing about her. She doesn’t have to lose any of her softness to be strong. She doesn’t have to lose her wonder to be a leader, or her kindness to be a protector.

Rather, those things are her strengths. Her softness, wonder, and kindness enable her to challenge the norm, to take on that role of leader, and to recognize her own worth.

In the end, Wendy’s sense of wonder saves them all, her stubborn belief that Peter Pan is real and that he will come to save them. She might not pick up a sword and beat off an approaching pirate (although I fully believe she would have thrown hands with a mermaid), but she rallies all the boys to keep believing.

Her wonder is what earns her a spot on Disney heroines who hold up surprisingly well.

So what do you think? Is this worth a series? Who’s your favorite Disney heroine, or any heroine you’d like to see me cover? Let me know in the comments below! 

Hi, I’m Rachel! I write young adult/new adult fantasy novels that walk the line between the darker elements of fantasy and the weirder elements of cartoons. But more importantly, I write the novels I needed growing up—the novels I still need. Novels for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming.

Maybe you need those stories, too? You can get one for free by signing up for my email newsletter via the “HOME” page of my website. It might involve a girl and the magical violin she didn’t want and maybe a metaphor about grief. Plus, you’ll also get email-exclusive updates about what I’m reading, watching, and writing. Sound good? I hope I’ll see you there! 

Have you watched Black Widow?

My sister and I rewatched it for the second time recently. I still had to look away during the opening credits sequence. We laughed over the jokes we’d forgotten and gasped over moments that caught us off guard.

What surprised me most was how this is a perfect “girl power” story done right.

In a twist that shocks no one, I very much support girl power stories. Some Christian artists tear down any example of “woke feminism,” the mystic and buzzy words that spell doom for most heroines.

Here’s the thing though. As I grew up, and especially during my teen years, I couldn’t relate to the heroines I saw and read. No matter how demure I was forced to look on the outside, inside I never felt like I fit common feminine stereotypes.

So as I made more viewing and reading choices for myself, I craved those heroines who were different. I sought out strong heroines, women who challenged injustice and abuse, women who did the things everyone said girls couldn’t do.

And I found Natasha and Yelena.

Marvel certainly hasn’t always hit the mark with their heroines. Heck, it took them over a decade to get Black Widow herself right. (I refuse to discuss the travesty that is her representation in Iron Man 2.) But they did finally get there. And we're going to explore how--as well as how it works for your own leading ladies. 

No One Gets Pushed Aside

If you’re like me, you might have come here to create a strong female character that isn’t “aggressive” or “abrasive” to your audience.

And we’ll get there. But I also want to challenge that idea. 

With women-led stories, when commentators call them aggressive and abrasive, it’s often code for something else. Aggressive means it steps a little too close to my own pet prejudices, challenging me in uncomfortable ways. Abrasive means that the heroine is too loud, too strong, too something or another, and she makes us feel threatened.

Stories like Black Widow should make me uncomfortable. It’s hard to not cover my eyes when girls are dragged screaming away from the only family they know, and said family watches them go. And I need that discomfort.

Aggressive and abrasive can also mean something else, though, and we’ve all read a girl power story like this. Where the heroine tears down everyone around her, regardless of gender, so she can lift herself to the heights she needs.

Black Widow deals very up close and personally with some very evil men. And yet, never once did they tear down a man to lift their woman up.

I hear you. “But Alexei—” you say.

And it’s true. The characters—and us, the audience—mercilessly mock Alexei. But we don’t mock him because “he’s a man and all men are dumb and stupid.”

No, we mock him because he’s Alexei. He could have been a woman and we would have laughed the same way. His character traits and the things we may or may not mock him for are not tied to his gender. And in the end, he has the chance to choose something more heroic, just like our heroines do, whether or not he ultimately takes it.

There aren’t very many men in Black Widow, but there’s at least one good dude, even if it’s just the guy who gives Natasha a safe house, or references to how Clint Barton has helped her. Which is so important especially when dealing with heavy subject matter like this film does, where the men would and could be villains.

But in making sure the heroines don’t put anyone down, the film also doesn’t allow anyone to put down the heroines. No other character, regardless of who they are, eclipses Natasha and Yelena. The women take center stage here. But they didn’t push anyone out of the way to get there.

Because they didn’t have to push anyone down to get where they are, Natasha and Yelena are actually stronger. They don’t steal their strength from someone else, male or female. And because of that, their inherent strength is more, because they have enough to stand on their own.  

The Female Gaze (alternatively titled The Importance of Pockets)

Just because they included good guys doesn’t mean they downplayed evil and injustice. Dreykov still exists. There’s a reason I cry during the opening sequence. It is brutal and it is heart-wrenching and it captures feelings that touch every woman on this planet in a way.

On the flipside, the film also includes the unique joys that women experience—whether that’s sisterhood or the value of an outfit with lots of pockets. (If you know you know, and you’re probably a woman.)

I should also note that none of their struggles centered around romance. That’s not to say that it wasn’t represented—Melina had whatever she had with Alexei.

But neither Yelena or Natasha can have children, but they don’t treat themselves like they’re broken. Neither Yelena or Natasha are at all interested in romance right now, and they don’t act like they’re incomplete. (Unlike some other Marvel projects I could name . . . cough, cough, Age of Ultron.)

In a culture that, for all the empowering messages it claims, also tells women that they only matter if they’re attached to someone, it’s refreshing to see a film that neither slanders marriage and family but also recognizes that marriage and family is not a woman’s purpose.

If you have a minute to kill (and I’m guessing you do if you’re reading this), here’s a interesting exercise I stumbled upon in the depths of Google one day. Someone placed the Black Widow Avengers poster beside the Black Widow poster for her titular movie. I won’t even say anything, just take a look at them and guess which film was directed by a woman.

Everything from her costume color to her hairstyle to the angle she faces the camera is affected by a women’s viewpoint.

And if you’re a dude and you’re despairing and thinking this counts you out, let me point out that a man wrote the Black Widow screenplay. Learning these angles and ideas is for everyone, not just women.

This Princess Saves Herself

Hear me on this: There’s nothing wrong with a man saving a woman.

But the vast majority of women have had to save themselves. They have had to fight and kick and claw and scream their way out. So stories where a man saves the woman from all her troubles can feel trite and insulting.

This movie allows for that. Natasha, Yelena, and Melina sever their own nerve so to speak to escape Dreykov and rescue the women around them. 

And yet not every woman is an untouchable savior. Melina allowed Yelena and Natasha to be trafficked and even assisted their trafficker. Natasha attempted to kill Dreykov’s daughter to complete a mission. Yelena . . . okay, Yelena is actually fine for now, although she gets into sketchy stuff later in the MCU.

The heroines are allowed to be messy and imperfect and sometimes deeply wrong.

This is why it was so important that Taskmaster was a woman. Her struggle, Natasha’s struggle, and the ways they mirror each other even as they’re hurting each other has a very raw power. We all support women helping women, but women also sometimes hurt women. Watching Natasha make that right, however imperfectly, means something, much more than if Taskmaster was just another male villain.

When all is said and all is done, the movie is allowed to be a story about women and the myriad of relationships between them. But notice that this movie never says “this is a story about women.” There’s no impassioned go-girls speech. Instead, the filmmakers simply let their heroines take the lead and followed them into all the messy, confusing places of being a girl in this world.

There’s not only something beautiful about that, there’s something powerful. 
​

I was twenty-three before I watched my favorite kids’ cartoons.
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To be fair, I got a late start. Due to life circumstances that were out of my control, I was a heavily sheltered kid (which my heavily sheltered friends will know comes with unique pros and cons).

But then I got older, and those circumstances changed, and I made my own decisions about my media and entertainment. And along the way, I stumbled across some cartoons that became a comfort.

It was easy. I didn’t have to invest too much time, just twenty minutes here or there. No matter what happened, I knew it would work out (mostly) by the end. It was safe. It was familiar. It was comforting.

But it also brought shame with it. After all, I was twenty-three. A grown person. Other people my age watched mature dramas, and I curled up in the corner with Disney Channel reruns.

I figured it was just because I had a late start. I was living the glory days I didn’t have, and sooner or later I’d find those more mature stories.

And don’t get me wrong, I love mature stories, too. (Six of Crows and Arcane, anyone?)

But the opposite happened. I traveled even further down the cartoon wormhole and found even more shows that I love and will pop on after a long day at work.

More than that, I found other adults who feel the same. I can talk about my favorite cartoons around them and not feel silly or childish.

Cartoons aren’t just for kids anymore, and maybe they never were. More and more, shows intended for kids attract older teens and adults with them. (Consider Gravity Falls—while the show is aimed at kids and aired on Disney, the creator recently released a spin-off book exclusively for older teens and adults.)

So, as I put on my favorite cartoons and wind down, I can’t help but wonder why cartoons—and other kids’ media—captivate adults so much.

Does it say something about how we view adulthood?

THE NOSTALGIA FACTOR

The world kinda lacks nostalgia. 

 We get up early, we go to work to make money, but we can’t even spend that money on fun stuff, no, we pay bills and repair our car and get gas. (Don’t get me started on insurance calls.) We come back home exhausted after a full work day, catch up on a few chores around the house, and by then it’s time to fall into bed and scroll news videos that make us feel horrible, but we somehow feel worse if we scroll past.

Kids’ media brings back those simpler times. Sometimes it’s because we grew up with a show and it takes it back. Sometimes (like in my case) we may have never grown up with the show ourselves, but the vibe brings back our childhood anyway.

Not to use a Gravity Falls example again (but I absolutely will), I was about twelve or thirteen when the first season aired. I never watched the show then, but when I did watch it about ten years later, it transported me back to the twelve-year-old me who could wander the woods for hours in my own make-believe world searching for conspiracies.

(In hindsight, it’s good younger me didn’t watch Gravity Falls. Or Phineas and Ferb. She would have been insufferable.)

I wonder if that’s why we come back to the colorful screens of kids’ cartoons and media. Being grown up isn’t all we hoped and dreamed and imagined, and all we want now is to go back to that simpler time. It’s not that we didn’t have problems then—we did, sometimes really big ones. I can’t quite put it in words, but everything felt smaller and bigger all at the same time.

The nostalgia factor can go beyond screens. Like I mentioned, I felt embarrassed for being an adult and loving kids’ media and cartoons. We all think we know what adulthood should look like, and we all study the other adults around us and think they’re absolutely killing it out there.

But deep down inside, even on our best days, we all feel like three kids stacked in a trench coat.

It seems silly to say it all changed with a meme, but it did. I don’t have the screenshot anymore, but it said something like, “your twenties are for enjoying all the same things you loved as a kid, except you’re not embarrassed about it anymore.”

Once I adopted that mindset, nostalgia and wonder didn’t stay in my screen, they colored my life, too. It was okay to do things just because I enjoyed them, even if those things seemed a little silly. It was okay to read a cheesy book because it sounded fun, or to take a walk even if no one else came along. I’m not perfect at it by any stretch, but I’m learning to be myself and to enjoy things—embarrassment free.

This is why I find kids’ media so powerful. It reintroduces wonder and nostalgia into our everyday life.

SIMPLE STORIES, DEEP TRUTH

Remember how I said our childhoods weren’t without their problems? Well, cartoons aren’t either.

Not all those problems were as big a deal as we thought, now that we look back. A squabble with a sibling, or a lost possession, or a silly fear that wouldn’t quite leave us alone.

But we underestimate how big the problems are that kids sometimes deal with. Kid me dealt with big things, even if I didn’t have words for them at the time. And sometimes those hurts, big and small, follow us into adulthood.

Kids’ cartoons and media have a unique stage that allows them to tackle these problems. The stories themselves are simpler—a bad guy must be vanquished or an adventure must be had, and by golly, these colorful two-dimensional characters will find it!

As stunning as complex themes and questions can be, sometimes we need a simple story.

I’ve used Gravity Falls examples so far, so why stop now? One episode in particular struck me, where the monster of the week waited until the main character was tired and frustrated and hurt by a sibling before he attempts a deal.

I could think of so many times and spaces where I felt tired and frustrated and hurt. And it made me consider what “monsters” might poke at those spaces and attempt a deal.

A simple point. Basic, some might even say. But still powerful.

On the other end of the spectrum, another cartoon I enjoyed, The Owl House, dealt with topics like abuse and manipulation—heavy topics, and topics very close to home for me. But within the borders of this fantastical story, they didn’t feel quite so big, and I could approach them more clearly.

Kids’ cartoons and media create a safe space. They can tackle deep topics so well because they’re simple.

We seek out cartoons to relax, to unwind. Through their structure and predictability, their color and humor, they build a safe space each morning or evening or whenever we press play. They give us a safe space to talk about the things that bother us, maybe things that have bothered us for a long time. Sometimes they put plain words to thoughts that swirl around our heads.

So yeah, I still watch cartoons, even though I’m a grown-up. But now I’m not quite so embarrassed about it. Because at day’s end, there’s something special about seeking out nostalgia and wonder—the wonderful things that God placed here for us to find. I’m pretty sure He didn’t mean for us to drudge through our lives. Life can be hard but there’s still things to enjoy.

And at day’s end, there’s something special about saying deep things in a simple way. We all need those spaces. We all need that wonder.

Maybe, we all need cartoons.

What are your favorite cartoons? Drop them in the comments below—I’m always looking for recs. While I’m at it, I’ll share my faves, too.


Hi, I’m Rachel! I write young adult/new adult fantasy novels that walk the line between the darker elements of fantasy and the weirder elements of cartoons. But more importantly, I write the novels I needed growing up—the novels I still need. Novels for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming.

Maybe you need those stories, too? You can get one for free by signing up for my email newsletter via the “HOME” page of my website. It might involve a girl and the magical violin she didn’t want, plus maybe a metaphor about grief? Plus, you’ll also get email-exclusive updates about what I’m reading, watching, and writing. Sound good? I hope I’ll see you there! 

Alright, guys, buckle up. It’s hyperfixation time.

One of my favorite media pieces that I watched last year was the TV show Arcane: League of Legends. A friend recommended it, so I started it blind with no expectations. It blew me away. Season 1 is one of the best-written stories I’ve ever watched, and Season 2, while more plot-based, still concludes the series excellently.

And why do I have a blog if I don’t give my favorite stories some love sometimes?

(Note: Arcane deals with a fair share of mature/sensitive topics and content. Use discretion if you search it up for yourself.) 
​

Beauty and Brutality

First off, the art is absolutely gorgeous. I have never seen anything like this animation and art style. This show could have zero plot and I’d watch it just for the animation. Everything is high quality—the music, the sound design, the writing. And all those pieces come together flawlessly.

The beautiful imagery contrasts with the absolute brutality of the topics they approach. This show doesn’t shy away from hard topics. Amidst the gorgeous images, the show captures impoverished cities and the aftermath of war with an unflinching eye. It made sure this contrast haunted me long after I clicked past the final episode.

One instance that stuck with me ever since the first episode is a scene where the protagonists fight a rival gang. During the frenetic combat, it slows down and shows us the fight through the eyes of a small girl cowered in the corner.

Similarly, when poisonous gases flood a rival city, for a brief moment, it cuts to the kids who watch and point at it like a fireworks show.

Moments like those did more than a thousand other images. It reminded me that sometimes less is more, especially when it comes to hard topics. I don’t remember which author said it, about how when you write about war, you don’t need every gritty detail, you show a child’s sandal abandoned in the road. Arcane did this expertly.

This show chases the places where those two concepts—beauty and brutality—intersect. It finds the beautiful in brutal things and the brutal in beautiful things. 

Choices and Characters

One of my favorite things to ask people who have seen the show is who their favorite character was. I love seeing how different people gravitated to different characters.

I connected so deeply with some of these characters, deeper than I have in a long time. And even the ones that I felt less in common with still drew me in through their emotions and experiences. I understood why everyone did what they did, even when I hated what they did. Season 1 connected me so well with these characters that when Season 2 (which is much larger-scale and more plot-focused) rolled around, I kept coming back.

And every character has amazing things about them and horrible things about them. They can do both amazing good and incredible evil. They could have the best intentions and execute them in the worst way, or vice versa.

No one is ever truly the hero or ever truly the villain in Arcane. And that’s the most important thing about this show to me. I watch these characters make choices—sometimes small, some big, some good, some bad—with far-reaching consequences. 

And all those choices are rooted so deeply in their desires, the very desires that made me relate to them. 

It forces me to make the leap from the choices I watch on screen, to the points where I relate to the characters, to the choices I make in real life. Because realizing why I connected with my favorite characters shows me myself and my thinking. And the choices I see my favorite characters make force me to look hard at myself.

Sure, this is a far out and fantastical world. Sure, I’ll likely never face some of these choices.

But what about me? Would I make the same choices? What choices do I make—good and bad—and where might they lead? It forced me to examine the wants and needs that drive me—and how far I would go to get those.

It also shows how an innocent choice that you make can affect all those around you. While that idea can induce a bit of anxiety, it also emphasizes that you choose how you react. Sometimes things happen to you that you cannot control, things that you don’t want and you never asked for. But everybody chooses how to respond to it, how to take it back and make it their own. Sometimes good, sometimes not.

That’s why Arcane works. Beauty and brutality, choices and desires, it dives deep into the things that make us all human.

And that’s why it’s so beautiful, why it’s so brutal. Because a storyteller can create the most stunning images, they can nail all the story mechanics, but if they don’t hide a piece of themselves in it, it’s hollow.

That’s the whole reason we make art. To probe those deep dark places that we won’t open to anyone else. To feel a little less alone. To explore the world and everything that makes us us.

Sometimes it’s good to have a story that I can absolutely lost in for a few hours. But it’s even better when I can come out of that story not only having grown and learned as a writer, but as a person, too. That’s what Arcane did for me.

Have you watched Arcane? What did you think of it?

Even if you haven’t watched Arcane, what have you been watching and reading this month? Let me know in the comments! I’m always looking for a good recommendation. 

​At the beginning of the Christmas season, I went housesitting for a week, then dogsitting for the next. Since I had the house to myself, and it was Christmas after all, I spent the evenings watching Christmas movies. I tried out a few I hadn’t watched before, with one of those being Disney’s Godmothered.
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If you haven’t seen or heard of Godmothered, imagine Elf but with a Fairy Godmother instead. Was it terribly original? No. But it was sweet and funny enough that I was engaged.

The movie drew to a close, the sort where because this is not a terribly original movie, the titular Fairy Godmother would rather obviously declare the moral before the crowd. Throughout the entire movie, she’d been trying to help her assigned child (who now was a grown woman) to find her true love and live happily ever after.

Essentially, she boils it down to, “I’ve been so busy trying to force her to live happily ever after, that I forgot about living happy. Who am I to say what true love looks like? Maybe instead of telling others what true love looks like, we should let them show us.”

It was sweet enough, I suppose. But it left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth even after the movie had ended. It confused me. I had enjoyed the movie, so what was the hold up? Was I just being overly uptight?

Christmas movies can be like that.

Over the past couple weeks, I’ve watched some very wholesome Christmas movies. Of course, there are classics that have been around for a while. And there are family favorites that I have back at my house. But I’ve also tried out some newer titles that turned out to be equally good.

In fact, many of the Christmas movies that I love the most never mention Christ in any way. But even if they’re fanciful stories about Santa Claus or reindeer or elves, they still manage to point back to Him. (I’ve written about some of them, which you can check out in the Christmas category on the right.)

But every so often, one comes along that as much as you enjoy watching it, there’s just something missing in all the sweet. They say that the season is full of love and joy, but there’s no center there. Where is all the joy and love coming from? Are we simply expected to manufacture it? If I’m not happy at Christmas, am I simply not trying hard enough? What if the person who’s supposed to love me doesn’t?

The notion presented in those sticky sweet films isn’t entirely wrong. True love does manifest itself in a lot of different ways through family and friends. And it is good to be selfless and set aside our own desires in order to see someone else’s point of view. But rather than feeling empowering, the idea that we make the rules of what true love looks like just seemed . . . sad.

The longer I thought about, the more I realized that if I depend on someone else to show me what true love looks like, then I will forever be depending on other people to feel loved. Like it or not, I have to find true love for myself.

Luckily, I have found it. And I found it in Christmas.

Christmas is a season of love for a reason. Because on Christmas we celebrate when the Son of God, Who lived a life we can never imagine, left all of it in order to come save us. To endure a life in this dirty world and die in the most excruciating of ways. And not to leave us alone afterward, but to stay with us, loving us.

My love for others or others' love for me doesn’t keep my feet on the ground. God’s love for me does. And once I’ve got that, then I can show others true love, and allow myself to be shown love back. And it will be a non-fickle kind of love. It’ll be a love that lasts through the hard and the crazy and the sad. It’ll be a love that elevates the happy and the sweet and the good. It affects my writing, it affects my work, it affects my home. It affects every aspect of my life. 

I think the difference between the stories is where its love and joy comes from. In movies like Godmothered, it comes from within us, and we’re responsible for keeping it going.

​But in the movies and stories that have truly endured, even if they can’t quite name it, it comes from somewhere outside themselves, something bigger than themselves. 

Welcome back to the Springtime in Surrey blog swap! Today, Andrea Renee Cox, author of The Cottage on the Hill, helps us think about compassion versus apathy. Let's get to it.

Apathy is unfeeling disinterest in others’ problems, worries, and situations. Everywhere I look these days, I see evidence of this lack of tender care for my fellow human beings. In the movie The Book of Henry*, a young character declares that apathy is the worst thing in the world. That line has stuck with me for years, because it’s the truth and I’ve seen evidence virtually every day since I first watched that film.
 
I have to wonder, can anything overcome such a dark and uncaring choice as apathy?
 
Every time I read the Bible and spend time with Jesus, I know the answer is yes. Yes, something is more powerful than apathy. God is bigger and stronger than everything on this planet, but there’s something we humans can choose that is stronger than apathy as well, if we follow His lead.
 
Compassion is greater than apathy.
 
Compassion is seeing other people’s plight and feeling their pain with them. It’s choosing to care about people and whatever trial or tribulation they might currently be going through. Compassion is not easy, because it means being vulnerable to wounds the world might wield against us. But I’m here to tell you that choosing to be compassionate is always worth it. In fact, Jesus commanded us to “love one another” (John 13:34 NKJV). He went further to say that His followers would be recognized by their “love for one another” (John 13:25 NKJV).
 
Loving one another is choosing compassion over apathy.
 
Often, I wonder if I’m doing enough to infuse an abundant amount of hope, cheerfulness, and especially compassion—all traits of love—into my community to counteract the apathy that is so prevalent in the world around me. What I’ve learned over these years of intentionally choosing to care (and show it!) about the people in my life is that every delicate moment matters. The incredible thing is, God can use even one person’s kindness to make a humongous impact in the world. The ripple effects can spread out in waves for a longer time than we can imagine, because of God’s work behind the scenes. This, to me, makes every attempt at showing love to those around me completely worth it.
 
This theme of showing compassion to the people around us is spotlighted in The Cottage on the Hill, my novella in Wild Blue Wonder Press’s debut anthology, Springtime in Surrey. When Adrian sees Moira crying into her afternoon tea, he wonders why. The neat thing is, he doesn’t stop at mere curiosity. Instead, he takes up the challenge of making her smile. His creative efforts throughout the book give her chance after chance to rediscover hope and joy. Even when he doesn’t know if she’ll ever feel comfortable enough with him to divulge her troubles, Adrian goes to great lengths to let Moira know that someone cares about her, that someone sees she’s hurting and chooses to do something about it.
 
How many times do we see people going through hard times and rough days but keep on walking by, not giving them more than a pitying glance?
 
What do you think would happen if you paused to give that person a helping hand or encouraging word?
 
Let me tell you from experience: Both the person you help and you will be blessed in the moment you reach out to connect with another member of humanity. Whether it’s encouraging a harried mother of three rambunctious children in the grocery store or helping a tearful, lost toddler find their parents or assisting someone in picking up items that spilled from a purse or split sack—or a thousand other scenarios—I challenge you to take a few minutes out of your busy day and infuse some compassion back into your community. Beyond that, I encourage you to take Jesus’s advice and “love one another,” so that people will recognize you as one of His compassionate followers.
 
It takes action from each one of us to make sure that compassion remains greater than apathy.
 
*Some content (language, thematic elements) in The Book of Henry is not suitable to all viewers. Discretion is advised. I suggest parents preview the film before sharing with any child under 18.

Good morning! I'm kicking off the first stop on my blog for the Springtime in Surrey blog swap today. (For more details on where to find other articles by all the authors in the anthology, check out this schedule: https://andreareneecox.com/2023/07/01/blog-swap-information-and-schedule/) Today we start out with Grace A. Johnson, author of Her Heart's Home, who will get us thinking about what Hallmark can teach us about character interactions. Let's get to it!

When someone says Hallmark, the first thing that comes to mind is what not to do. Don’t be cheesy. Don’t be cliché. Don’t be unrealistically happy all the time. Hallmark is rarely—if ever--the gold standard (heck, it ain’t even the bronze standard) for good storytelling. Not even for romance. (Some of their older, circa the 20th century, films, yes. Their newer stuff? Nope.)

But if there’s one thing Hallmark has actually managed to do decently in a lot of their productions is create engaging, meaningful character interactions.

I know that sounds crazy, but I’m serious! I’ll be using their two most popular series--Signed, Sealed, Delivered and When Calls the Heart--for examples, just to prove it to you! (Speaking of, beware of spoilers for these two shows! If you’ve already seen them or don’t care to ever watch them, you may proceed. Otherwise, caution is advised.)

Even though Hallmark is visual, you can still learn a lot from their methods and apply it to your writing, from utilizing nonverbal communication to enhance dialogue and creating unique character voices to tailoring your dialogue to the story and being intentional with every moment!

Nonverbal Communication

There’s not much about Hallmark actors that set them apart from the crowd...but you gotta admit, they have the most expressive faces! With just the bat of their eyes, they can convey a million emotions, and it’s mesmerizing!

Even though books don’t have the capability of showing you the characters’ faces, you can still use changes in facial expressions and small gestures to enrich or even replace dialogue!

To enrich dialogue: Include action tags or breaks in the character’s dialogue to show their actions or expressions. Sometimes, just a gesture or a blink can reveal more about your character’s thoughts and emotions than their words can! Let’s take a look at a few examples...
 
Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?” The line of dialogue is so simple that it could be anything from sarcastic to angry; adding the change in her facial expression indicates that she’s surprised.

“Did Joey mention when he was coming?” he asked, his foot tapping on the floor. Again, the dialogue is vague, and we could easily add an adverb after “he asked” to clarify that he’s impatient, but adverbs don’t give the readers an image or add any motion to the scene. So having his foot tap adds movement and clarification without telling!

To replace dialogue: Substitute a line of dialogue or any small talk with an action. Actions speak louder than words, after all, so in tense or active moments or with quiet characters, consider trading most of your dialogue for actions. In fact, in any dialogue-rich moment, try cutting out a few lines and turning them into nods or sighs and see how her scene comes to life! For example…

She held up the missing necklace, and he lifted his eyebrows at the sight of them. A simple gesture or two can convey what clunky dialogue like this would: “Oh, look, I found the necklace,” she said as she held it up. “Where did you find it?” he asked.

He glared at her. Even an entire argument or rant could be summed up in an expression, which makes characters seem more alive and genuine, as well as making your scenes flow smoother and faster instead of dragging them down!

How Hallmark did it: They used every facial feature and body movement to convey a thought or emotion. They kept the character’s personality in mind too, making both their dialogue and action authentic and their interactions natural.

One of my favorite moments is in When Calls the Heart, where the typically-bubbly Rosemary Coulter just looks for a minute, her expression solemn and her dialogue limited to just an “oh,” after Dr. Carter tells her she’s probably pregnant. Seeing this happy, peppy character reduced to such a sober state is so poignant, and it’s all done through nonverbal communication.

My other favorite moment is Shane and Oliver’s (Shane’s the heroine and Oliver is the very dashing hero *winks*) first on-screen kiss in Signed, Sealed, Delivered...or, actually, the interactions between them leading up to it! Shane’s motions and expressions are so powerful and emotional, enhancing her dialogue, which would’ve been dull and mundane without her amazing performance! And even though Oliver isn’t very expressive, the smallest movement on his face can say a lot, sometimes even more than his words!

How you can do it: Practice by imagining your characters as actors. You can use clips from your favorite movies, task your friends with acting out their interactions, or just studying your expressions in the mirror to find the right ways to communicate different words, thoughts, and emotions non-verbally! I also recommend paying attention to how other people react in real life, and how you see or understand others based on their nonverbal communication. After all, 93% of communication is nonverbal, and 55% of first impressions are based on what we see—whether that’s their expression, their clothing, or the way they walk or shake hands!

Unique Character Voices

One of my favorite parts of reading and writing are the unique character voices. (This is apparent due to the fact that I will spend three months developing their voices and no time plotting or actually writing.) Some authors simply excel at making their characters come to life through their distinct narratives and dialogue, and so does Hallmark.

Even though their voices are real, verbal voices, they all begin as dialogue in a script, and I’ve noticed Hallmark has actually done as pretty good job making them unique and distinguishable—especially in Signed, Sealed, Delivered.

All four of the main characters—Shane, Oliver, Rita, and Norman—as well as the secondary characters like Ramon and Ardis, have voices, tones, speech patterns, and preferred phrases so original and them, that I could easily tell them apart just by reading their lines!

The fun fact is that the stark contrast in how everyone talks is even addressed in the show, when Shane starts making comments that sound eerily like what Oliver would say! Even without making mention of it, the audience could easily pick up on the change in Shane’s lines when she began talking like Oliver, as well as just how different the entire cast is according to what they say.

How Hallmark did it: They stayed attuned to the characters’ personalities and background while writing their lines, making their dialogue sound natural and authentic to the characters, as well as unique. They also stayed consistent with specific speech patterns and preferences, like Oliver’s tendency to quote Shakespeare and the Bible, or Shane’s blunt, no-nonsense attitude.

How you can do it: Think of your narrative (especially if it’s first-person) and dialogue as lines in a script. How would your characters say the words? Would they sound natural or forced? Would they repeat themselves because they’re shy or ramble because they’re hyperactive?

Ask yourself if your characters have any specific speech or thought patterns, impediments, or preferences. Keep a list of any phrases or quotes they might use continually, or any accents or hindrances they have. Remember that their culture, how they were raised, what time period they live in, and their current lifestyle have an impact on how and what they say.

For example, I’ve been raised in the South by godly parents, and I live in a rural area with lots of farmland, poor whites, and African-Americans. Because of my specific culture, I have a Southern accent, I use a lot of slang, I talk fast (no, Southerns do not drawl around here, believe it or not), and I’m often quoting Scripture, making idle threats, or using sayings that make absolutely no sense. (Y’all ever seen a chicken run around without a head? No? Yeah, me neither.)

So, some of my nonsensical sayings would be interspersed throughout my narrative; my dialogue might be phonetically spelled with a lot of missing consonants; and my internal monologue might just be a bunch of run-on sentences. And just like that, you can incorporate different aspects of your characters’ personalities, lifestyles, and cultures into every aspect of your writing to make them stand out!

Tailored Dialogue

I’m not quite certain how to describe this, because I don’t believe I’ve ever heard someone talk about it in specific terms. But one of my favorite things in books/movies is dialogue that is meaningful and actually tailored to the story. And I don’t just mean dialogue that goes beyond the realms of small talk—I also mean things like inside jokes, catchphrases, pertinent questions, etc.!

Like what I mentioned above about the continuity in the characters’ voices and how they were tailored to their personalities, Hallmark has done a fabulous job at tailoring the actual words to the story! Characters from past episodes/movies are brought up, specific quotes are repeated, nicknames are reused. Sure, it takes a bit to keep track of everything, but it’s worth it in the end when your dialogue flows as smoothly and naturally as a real-life conversation!

How Hallmark did it: They stayed continuous. From the episodes of When Calls the Heart, which are literally back-to-back and always include a recap, to the movies of Signed, Sealed, Delivered, which sometimes have two-to-three years between installments, Hallmark is always continuous. They kept track of characters—even the minor ones from only an episode or two—and made sure to bring them up in conversations. They were aware of the themes and stuck with them. They allowed the storyline to impact the characters’ discussions, emotions, and actions.

For an unrelated example, Hallmark’s A Perfect Bride film duology stuck with the theme of perfection. In the first film, the hero Nick’s fiancee wanted her everything about wedding to be, well, perfect—including the groom. Naturally, those expectations were entirely too far-fetched, and the wedding fell through. But when the second movie came around, Hallmark stayed true to the characters and their situation and let the Nick’s ex-fiancee’s decisions influence how he and his new fiancee, Molly, moved forward. They were constantly quipping about how their wedding could be good, but not perfect, and they avoided even saying the word! This theme played out even more, and it was so fun from a writer’s perspective to see how the screenwriters made that unfold so effortlessly, especially just through their dialogue!

Another moment I love is when Oliver and Shane have a bit of a spat . . . but they use the context of their current case at the Dead Letter Office in reference to themselves! 

How you can do it: Keep track of your characters, scenes, and previous conversations—even if that means making a list or two! (Can never have too many lists, in my opinion. *winks*) Be aware of what your themes are and how they will continue to unfold throughout the story. Focus on how the plot/premise affects the characters and influences what they say, do, think, and feel.

I highly recommend reading over the last scene or two you wrote before you move on to the next one. Consider it your “Previously On…” moment, and let the story linger on your mind as you write it. Remember important aspects of previous books, too, and how characters could still be joking—or arguing—about them months later!

For some quick examples, whenever my characters do something impulsive or stupid, they say they “did an Elliot” or “Ellioted” the situation, in reference to my notoriously impulsive character—you guessed it—Elliot. And my heroine Rina always brings up her quartermaster Keaton’s role in an attempted mutiny whenever she’s miffed with him or feels like teasing him. (Even though he was only pretending to go along with it, there’s still a few hard feelings, of course.)

There’s something about being specific and intentional in your dialogue that makes the story so much more authentic!

Intentionality

Speaking of intentionality (which my writing software says is not a word) . . . Hallmark has learned the hard way to make every moment count. Their movies and TV series are often short, compacting an entire romance into 90 minutes, let alone countless conversations and character interactions.

But there’s never a dull moment in a Hallmark movie; there’s always something going on or being said that moves the characters’ relationship forward! Just as their growth is never stagnant, their conversations are purposeful and intentional. No time for small talk here!

And as important as small talk and fluff can be in fiction (they really aid character development), intentionality is key. Every interaction should do something, whether that’s twist the plot, spur the character on, or provide key insight to your characters, world, etc.

How Hallmark did it: They kept their focus on the task at hand. With time constraints, there simply isn’t time to get caught up in random conversations or monotonous scenes, so they—and their characters—stayed on track and kept the story progressing in some way at all times!

Try watching any episode of When Calls the Heart, and you’ll find characters constantly asking questions or bringing up subjects that are pertinent to the plot. Same goes for Signed, Sealed, Delivered, in which every scene is either focused on their dead letter case, developing the characters’ relationships, or one of the few side plots! Even a standalone movie is a great example of how every moment has a purpose and contributes to the story (most of the time, the romance) in some way!

How you can do it: The first and last step to being intentional with every scene or interaction is actually the same—edit. If you write a line of dialogue that has nothing to do with what’s going on, delete it and try again. If you read back over a scene that’s just fluff and no substance, cut it. If you have a few paragraphs of unnecessary rambling, shorten it and make your point in a sentence or two instead.

Of course, staying focused while you write makes editing a lot easier. Keep an outline of your scenes or, if you’re a pantser like me, brainstorm what should happen and how important it is to your story before you get started on the next scene!

And don’t forget to stay balanced. You’ll need a few more moments of fluff than a Hallmark movie, and those moments can be very beneficial for character/plot development and overall reader experience. Just keep in mind that it has to contribute to your story, so balance anything extra with moments that really move the plot along!

So, the next time your mom forces you to sit through a Hallmark movie with her, pay attention to how the character interactions play out! Watch how the actors’ expressions and movements bring their dialogue to life; focus on how each character’s voice stands out; listen to their inside jokes and references to past movies/episodes; and take note of the purpose behind each scene!

You’ll find that your character interactions are stronger, more meaningful, and easier to write when you utilize nonverbal communication, craft unique character voices, tailor the dialogue to your story, and are intentional about every moment!

Did you go see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 last month?

Before going to see it, I wouldn’t have said I was a huge fan of the Guardians. They were definitely fun, enjoyable watches. But when all was said and done, that was it. Fun.

But Vol. 3 was in theaters, and my sisters and I wanted to go see a Marvel movie in theaters for the first time. By all the trailers, this one looked like it was going to be a great one (which, when it comes to Marvel, are getting more and more rare). So we took our chance and off we went, and it was worth it. I could go on and on about how great a movie this was, but that’s not what you’re here for.

After that, I went back and watched the original Guardians of the Galaxy, seeing it in a new light after Vol. 3.
One of the things that struck me the most in a rewatch, was just how unlikeable most of the Guardians truly were. (Well, with the exception of Groot.) By Vol. 3, they had quite a bit of character development under their belts.

But in the original, all of them were criminals, whether that was for murder, theft, or whatever Peter Quill was up to. They’d stab anyone in the back to get what they want—it’s pretty much how they all wound up in jail together. And even when forced to work together to escape, they spent most of the time fighting and shouting at each other.

But then they discovered that orb they were all squabbling over had the power to wipe out entire cities. And then, thanks to one of their members, that orb fell into the hands of a very wrong person. And the only people that could get it back were the most unlikeable.

As Peter put it, a bit less eloquently, the universe was asking them to care for once.

That particular chance that was handed them may have been just that—chance. Or maybe it was a nod to something deeper. Sprinkled within all that fighting and shouting and galaxy-saving, I spotted grace.

Grace is defined as “free and unmerited favor.” You get something good just because. Not because you did anything for it—in fact, usually because you didn’t do anything for it—but just because the giver chose you.

Gamora attempted to kill him, but Peter still risked his own life to save Gamora in a prison fight.

Drax called the villain on them and caused them to lose the power stone, but the Guardians still took him back.

Groot sacrificed himself to save the rest of the Guardians, even though none of them had done anything that would make anyone care.

Rocket cruelly mocked Drax’s grief for his family, but Drax still chose to comfort Rocket when he lost his friend.

Nebula was an active villain throughout the first film and much of the second, but the Guardians (Gamora especially) still chose to reach out to her and give her the love she so desperately wanted.

A lot of days, I don’t feel very likeable. I know I do things that are wrong. Some days I hate it, some days I just don’t care. Even at my best, I’m bound to do something that might annoy someone somewhere. I don’t like making mistakes. I don’t like being unlikeable. I’ve been known to fight and shout in my own ways.

“For while we were still helpless, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly. For rarely will someone die for a just person—though for a good person perhaps someone might even dare to die. But God proves His own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:6-8, CSB)

The Guardians didn’t come together when they were a family largely healing and learning to treat others with grace. They came together and held each other up when they were in prison for trying to kill, kidnap, or at the very least steal from each other.

Jesus didn’t come for the version of me that I will be someday. He came for the mean version of me. He came for the version of me that makes mistakes. He came for the version of me who gave Him no reason to care. The version that tried to kill Him. But He cares anyway.

The Guardians didn't just accept the grace given to them and go on with business as usual. Grace changed them. The Guardians at the end of Vol. 3 are wildly different than the ones at the beginning of Vol. 1. They care more about each other. They trade in crime for protecting the galaxy. They give more grace themselves.

Jesus didn’t come and save me and then leave me to my own devices, He sticks with me, even though I make wrong choices over and over again and I’m just not quite there yet. But we will get there one day.

Grace is free, unmerited favor. I didn’t expect to find grace in Guardians of the Galaxy. Then again, I wouldn’t have expected to find grace towards me. But it’s still there.

If you’re feeling unlikeable today, maybe this is the time to remember that Someone still loves you no matter what you do or say, and that He has placed people around you who will extend you the same grace. And hey, maybe it’s time to rewatch Guardians of the Galaxy while you’re at it. You know, if that’s your thing.

*Who's your favorite Guardian? What did you think of the movies? Share your adventures in the comments below!*

Last month, I went to theaters for the first time in a good long while to see the movie Jesus Revolution.

It was more than worth the price of admission. This movie is beautiful. It is unapologetically Christian, but they focused on telling a good story first.

In case you haven’t seen it yet, Jesus Revolution tells the story of the Jesus Movement in the 1960’s. It’s the story of Pastor Chuck Smith who (albeit reluctantly) invited a hippie into a church that was more focused on keeping themselves safe and unspotted. And that invitation sprouted something big. Revival spread through thousands of teens and young adults, including a lonely boy named Greg.

Whether or not you’re a Christian, I think Jesus Revolution is an important movie, especially for my generation.

Jesus Revolution shows just how much young people matter.

The majority of the Jesus Movement was made up of teens and young adults, because the majority of hippies were teens and young adults.

(While I'll be writing mainly to young people, don't tune out if you come from another generation, because this applies to you too. Age is just a number.)

They looked at their world and saw something truly wrong and broken, but they also looked beyond it to the world that they thought they could make. They’d been silenced and overlooked enough. Enough was enough. They were going to do something about it.

But they’d seen enough fighting and lecturing to know they wanted nothing to do with it. So they set out to find the thing they’d been deprived of for so long—love.

I believe that each generation sees things that the others don’t. I believe young people in particular have a unique perspective and gift to see the broken things others may have become comfortable with. To see creative ways to solve those problems. To see what could be.

We’re not so different from the hippies of the sixties. We’ve seen some truly hard and horrible things, sometimes things that others want to deny we’ve seen. And we won’t allow ourselves to be silenced. We have the heart and the fire and the energy that forces us into action. We can’t sit still. We have to do something.

But many of us are done fighting. We’ve seen enough fighting. We’re war-weary, even though we’re young and most people say we have nothing to be weary from. We want to embrace love, but all the things we think are love fall through.

The hippies made some pretty big mistakes in how they tried to pursue peace and love. Very little of what they did would ever be advisable.

But they tried. They were willing to take that risk.

That’s another special thing young people have. We have the energy and the willpower and the courage to try something wildly different, completely out of the blue.

So when someone came along and truly loved them, they could fit all the puzzle pieces together. They found that the love they’d been searching for was found in Jesus. And since they’d found what they were looking for, they couldn’t keep silent.

The Jesus Movement spread because teens kept coming into churches and bringing friends and sharing Christ whenever they could. Because young adults kept coming forward to be baptized. Because teens kept proposing solutions to problems they saw in the church. Because young adults were willing to lead.

God worked crazy mightily because a group of young people wouldn’t stay silent.

The world today largely dismisses young people. You have nothing of importance to say. You’re stupid. You had best sit down, shut up, and let someone else take care of it. Gen Z is treated as a fun joke in TV and film, because what’s funnier than a caricature that only cares about making TikToks and protesting for a cause they don’t even really know what it’s for?

But we’re not a joke. God crafted each one of us uniquely, with a special way of seeing the world, something important to say, and a fire deep inside.

And when young people, especially Christian young people, realize that, incredible things can happen.

We can fight all we want. We can speak all we want. We can try over and over again. But none of it matters unless we work alongside Christ. He guides us all different directions—one to write books, another to a job in their hometown, another to a career in science.

You and Jesus are the two ingredients that might start a fire wherever you are.

It’s believed that about 100,000 people were involved in the Jesus Movement. That’s just the ones who were actively involved, not all the people who were impacted or touched by it.

That is the power of our generation. And it’s just waiting for us to realize it.

We have something that could change the world for the better. We have the most important thing there could ever be, a very real God who loves every one of us. We can’t stay silent. We can’t sit still.

If we stand up and speak, there will be another Jesus Revolution. And another and another on into eternity.

That's not just true for young people, but for every generation living and breathing on this earth right now.