The first of 8 weekly challenges given to prepare us for our upcoming regional conference was to think about the way a change in perspective alters the voice of the story. We were given the challenge to tell three classic fairy tales, each from a different point of view from the original story. (A 30-minute time limit for writing each retelling kept me from overthinking.)
I will probably post the other two stories later in the month, but for now, please enjoy my retelling of "The Princess and the Pea" from the pea's perspective.
Almost everyone knows the story of the Princess and the Pea.
At least, almost everyone knows the story about the shallow, spoiled prince and
his domineering, stuck-up mother. Chances are, you already know all about how
the pretty, little diva who calls herself a princess “proved” it by feeling a
tiny, little pea through a thick pile of mattresses.
But come on, people! The story is called the princess and
the PEA, for goodness’ sake! Let’s give credit where credit is due, already! I
mean, if it wasn’t for me, that little diva wouldn’t even be a part of the
fairy tale.
It all started when Prince Lazybones decided he wanted to
get married. Of course, he declared that he could only marry the most beautiful
girl in the world, because that’s the kind of thing that princes do.
Queen Bea couldn’t wait to start planning a royal wedding.
It would be the perfect excuse to throw a huge party with flowers and balloons
and fancy dishes, to which she would only invite the Most Important People. Because
everyone knows that the best parties always have a long list of people who are
NOT invited, who can watch from a distance, green with envy, wishing they could
be a part of the in crowd.
But the more the Queen planned for the ultimate party, the
more she worried. She’d noticed a growing trend in fairy tales, where common,
but beautiful girls were winning the hearts of princes everywhere, completely
messing up the purity of the royal bloodlines. She couldn’t risk allowing
Prince Lazybones to marry a commoner. Why, what would her friends think?
So she came up with a great plan. She put me, a tiny,
little, insignificant pea, on the frame of the giant bed in the guest chambers
and piled dozens of mattresses on top of me. Then, she invited the princesses,
one at a time, to spend the night at the castle, in the guest bed.
I was just supposed to lie there, like a lump, all night
long. The princess who guessed I was there would prove she was sensitive enough
to win Prince Lazybones.
Well, do you know how hard it is to get comfortable when you’re
squished underneath a stack of heavy mattresses, topped with princesses who
aren’t always as dainty as they look? By the twelfth night, I couldn’t take it
any longer. I started rolling around, trying to find a comfortable spot to
sleep in.
I guess my tossing and turning woke up the diva, because the
next morning, she announced that she’d had the worst night of sleep ever. She
said that she couldn’t get comfortable, because it felt like there was
something in her bed.
And that’s how I
made the diva Princess a star.
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