Tag: storytelling

How theory of mind leads to effective storytelling

Storytelling is all about sharing a point of view. When we read or listen to a story, we’re learning something about the perspective of the storyteller or their characters. Stories can make us feel connected to the protagonist; they can build anticipation for the ending; they can make us question our views of the world. But what is it that that makes stories so effective in triggering these thoughts and feelings?

What is Theory of Mind?

Communicating a point of view in a story starts with theory of mind. Every human has the capacity to put themselves into the mind of another, to consider that someone else might have a different perspective to them. We develop this skill as children, with some of us being better at it than others for various social, environmental and cognitive reasons. The concept of theory of mind relates largely to cognitive perspective taking. This means it relates to interpreting the thoughts, desires and intentions of others, which we use to infer reasons for their behaviour or to predict their behaviour. Psychologists describe it as a theory because it’s impossible to ever truly prove our assumptions about another person’s mind – we’ll never see or experience it the way they do.

Another related concept is empathy, which researchers describe as emotional perspective taking. This is our ability to recognise and understand the emotions of others, basically to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes and consider how a situation might make them feel.

Theory of Mind and the Role of Language

In my previous blog post Why Do We Tell Stories, I wrote about the power of language. We are the only animal that we’re aware of that’s capable of communicating complex symbolic meanings. We are capable of describing events that have never happened, or that we have never experienced, in order to express an underlying message to our audience.

In the same way, this linguistic ability gives us the framework for conceptualising the experience of another person. Other animals have been shown to have some theory of mind, for example, crows are able to infer that another crow may not have the same knowledge as them; chimpanzees and bonobos have shown some ability to infer the intentions and emotions of others. But researchers all agree that the theory of mind these animals evidence is far less than that of humans. We don’t really know for sure why that is, but there does seem to be a strong link between language fluency and the development of theory of mind and empathy.

As we’re teaching our children to speak, often we’re also teaching them something about theory of mind at the same time. For example, when my son starts crying and I ask “Are you sad?, I’m giving him the label that I use to describe that emotion in myself. If I’m combing his hair and pull too hard, I’ll say “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” and he’ll know that what happened wasn’t my intention. When I plan to have toast and realise there isn’t any bread, if I say “I didn’t know you and Daddy finished the bread”, I’m teaching him that my knowledge was different to his until I went into the kitchen. Language allows us to access the inner worlds of other people in a way that just wouldn’t be possible otherwise.

Theory of Mind and Storytelling

Another thing that researchers have found is that our brains are particularly interested in narratives. Partly, this is because they’re easier to remember: they have a structure that we can follow and a context that we can put them in. But it’s also because narratives have a social value. We tell stories to share information about ourselves or our experiences, and we find stories engaging because there’s an evolutionary advantage to being given the information that others want to share. In the past, that might have been information about food sources, or whether other people were trustworthy, or signs of a predator. Now, our stories might be more complicated but we still listen to them to build our social understanding.

Brain imaging studies have shown that when we listen to narratives rather than just unrelated verbal information, different areas of the brain are activated. This extends even to fictional stories. When we are told about the thoughts, feelings and behaviours of a character, our brains work to take their perspective in the same way we would with a real person. In this way, simple stories can be used to help children to practice theory of mind and develop their social and emotional understanding of others, while adults can emotionally connect with characters, allowing stories to take on more meaning and become more memorable.

Point of View

Within storytelling, there are three main points of view that a narrative can take:

First Person:

This is the point of view that you’re most likely to hear in stories told during your everyday life. It is a story where the narrator is also the protagonist and they are telling you about something that happened to them e.g.:

I did the only thing any reasonable wizard could have done. I turned around and ran like hell.

Jim Butcher

Second Person:

In this point of view, the narrator turns the reader into the protagonist, speaking as if the reader themselves were the one who experienced the narrative.

You’re still trying to decide who to be. The self you’ve been lately doesn’t make sense anymore; that woman died with Uche.

N.K. Jemisin

Third Person:

The most commonly used point of view in fiction, third person provides the reader with a camera through which they can see the action happening to the characters in the narrative. This perspective is similar to our usual life experiences: we watch others as they speak and act, separated from them unless they tell us their own first person account.

Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return.

J.R.R. Tolkien

How do theory of mind and point of view interact with each other?

Each different type of point of view invites the reader to engage with a narrative in a particular way and each will require different aspects of theory of mind.

In first person POV, we’re being told someone’s story. They’re making a direct attempt to share something of themselves with us. This taps into our social desire to engage with, empathise and understand those around us, and to build human connections.

In second person POV, the narrator asks us to imagine that we are the protagonist, to put ourselves in the narrative. This is a tricky one to get right, if the actions of the character are too far removed from what we think our own might be, but it can have the powerful effect of leaving us feeling like we personally understand the experience of the story.

Third person POV draws on the skills we use every day in observing those around us but often with the added element of access to the internal experiences of the characters, which generally makes us feel more emotionally invested in them.

The point of view that is most effective for the narrative being told is dependent on the aims of the storyteller, but all of them take advantage of our ability to take the perspectives of the protagonists and empathise with their experiences.

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About the Author

Caroline Ashley Author storytelling blog

Caroline Ashley is a clinical psychologist who works for the NHS in Scotland. She loves fantasy in all forms and is fascinated by the ways in which the fantasical can speak to our everyday lives.

Under The Skin

I seem to have lots to update all at once this month!

Wicked Shadow Press have published my horror flash fiction story Under the Skin in their latest anthology: Flash of the Dead: Requiem.

My story is now available for you to read for free on my website but if you enjoy it and would like to peruse the 87 other chilling horror works in their anthology, then you can follow the above link to purchase their anthology in epub format. Anthologies such as these survive through people contributing by purchasing when they can and telling other people about the stories they’ve enjoyed, so please do consider supporting them if you’re able to and are interested in the stories inside.

Under the Skin is about domestic abuse, so may not be for everyone. It’s about all the repressed emotions that come from spending your life trying to make yourself fit with someone else’s view of who you should be. These emotions can build beneath the surface and threaten to spill out in ways that we can’t control.

Let me know what you think!

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The Rise of Nilcaro Syndrome

My horror story The Rise of Nilcaro Syndrome has been published in Issue 94 of Blood Moon Rising Magazine. This issue is available to view for free until next month, after which you’ll need to purchase it in their store if you’d like to read it.

In case horror isn’t really your thing, but you’d still like to read my story in particular, I’ve also uploaded it to my website: The Rise of Nilcaro Syndrome

This story is about a pandemic of flesh eating humans, from the perspective of a teenage boy living in Glasgow. It is a bit gory in places, but it’s mostly a story about how Johnny and his family react to the pandemic as it spreads across their community.

I should be posting details of another published horror story later on this week, so be on the look out for the next update!

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The End of George Square

Writing George Square started as a way to get myself back into regularly writing fiction. It was intended to be a novella that I would finish before I went back to work after maternity leave with my daughter. Instead, it turned into a 69,000 word novel with characters that I would love to explore more. Though, rest assured, George Square is a standalone story, with no cliffhangers waiting at the end!

After I started writing George Square, I began to enter short story contests, paid for a story writing course and have had several pieces of short fiction published. My writing ability has hugely improved in the last two years, so I’m sure that there’s a lot of editing to be done with the earlier chapters and the story as a whole. The editing will begin later this year after I finish editing the adult fantasy novel that I wrote a decade ago and hope to start querying with agents this year. Wish me luck!

So, it is with sadness that I say goodbye to Matthias, Esther, Griff and the others in this last chapter, but I look forward to going back and making their story even better! ☺️

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Merry Christmas!

Spillwords have published a Christmas story of mine called Fireside Memories. This was one of the first short stories I wrote after getting back into writing in early 2022, submitted to a Globe Soup contest to the theme of ‘an unlikely friendship’. I liked the idea of making the story about a man and ‘man’s best friend’, except in a world where that isn’t entirely the case any more. I’ve edited it a lot since the original draft and I also made it Christmassy for the submissions call with Spillwords, so it is a bit different from the first version. I’ve had some lovely feedback from other writers since it’s been published, which is a great little gift right before Christmas.

Finally, today I’ve uploaded another blog post, this time about using Aristotle’s rhetorical appeals (logos, ethos and pathos) in writing fiction. This is an example of The Rule of Three in action – Aristotle separates quite a few of his concepts into three parts, likely because he knew the rhetorical power of things that come in threes. His writing was clearly effective, given that we’re still talking about him more than two thousand years later!

This is my last post of 2023 so all that’s left is to thank you for following my blog this year and I hope you continue to enjoy my work next year. See you in 2024! 🥳

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Telling a story with logos, pathos and ethos

One of the main aims of any story teller is to convince their audience of something, whether that be to immerse them in a magical world, or make a theoretical argument, or to build an emotional connection with the characters. So how do you write a convincing story? What elements need to be there for an audience to buy into the narrative?

More than 2000 years ago, the philosopher Aristotle wrote On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse where he laid the foundations for all subsequent ideas about rhetoric and the art of persuasion. Aristotle posited that in order to make a persuasive argument a writer requires three rhetorical appeals:

  • Logos: making a logical argument. In non-fiction, this would mean that the narrative needs to be evidence based and structured in such a way that it pre-empts any counter argument.
  • Ethos: being credible and likeable. A writer needs to be seen as someone that the audience can trust and respect, someone whose argument is worth listening to, or someone whose ideals are similar to their own.
  • Pathos: connecting emotionally with the audience. This is about forming an emotion connection, either by evoking positive emotions for the narrative or negative emotions for the ideas or people who oppose the writer’s argument.

(As an aside to this blog post, this is an example of the power of the rule of three, which I’ve discussed previously. Artistotle breaks quite a few of his rhetorical concepts down to three parts, likely because he understood the power that the rule of three has in helping people to engage with and remember information.)

Aristotle’s ideas have been used to inform written and spoken work throughout the ages. His writings cover far more than just these three elements and are essentially a ‘how to’ guide for making an argument that people will listen to. Being a philosopher and scientist, Aristotle was most concerned with using discourse to communicate theoretical ideas rather than stories, but the basic concept is just as useful for writers wanting to ‘sell’ their fiction to their audience.

One thing that I think is important to note though, is that most writing doesn’t necessarily require all three of these factors to be successful. A not-very-good book by an internationally best-selling writer is likely to still sell a lot of copies regardless. A story that plucks at the heart strings well enough may be forgiven for some factual inaccuracies or internal inconsistencies. And a well-written story with an interesting argument to make may not need to appeal to the audience’s emotions to be remembered.

Logos within Fiction

Logos is all about a story making sense. It doesn’t necessarily have to be completely factually accurate but it the narrative has to flow in a way that readers can wrap their heads around and the rules of the world within the story need to be consistent.

Some stories use logos as the primary focus of the narrative. For example, Fountains of Paradise by Arthur C. Clarke is largely a speculative piece about the feasibility of a space elevator on earth. The characters are fairly two dimensional and forgettable, largely used as a means of progressing his scientific ideas. Another example would be The Martian by Andy Weir, who said in promoting his book that he worked hard to ensure that the novel was as scientifically accurate as possible.

On the other hand, we have the TV series Lost. Those of you who have watched it will remember waiting patiently for explanations for the polar bear that appears in the jungle in Season 1, or what was underneath the hatch, or what the numbers truly meant. Many explanations just led to further questions and by the finale there were several hanging threads that were never tied off. The story was often more about the characters anyway and many fans still felt satisfied by the closure they had by the end. However, plenty of others were disappointed by the lack of cohesive narrative, and the issues with the story have reduced its re-watch value for many fans.

While readers will tend to forgive the odd mistake here and there, or suspend their disbelief for a compelling enough story, it definitely weakens a story and disrupts our immersion if we find ourselves questioning the logic within the narrative.

Pathos within Fiction

If a writer can emotionally connect with an audience through their writing then they’ll create moments that are remembered long after the story is over. The example that sprang to my mind when writing this is from the movie The Never-ending Story. If you were a child when this movie came out, then you may already be picturing Atreyu desperately trying to rescue his horse Artax from drowning in the Swamp of Sadness only to fail and be left to continue his journey alone. The emotional connection that I felt for Atreyu has stuck with me well into my adulthood, cementing my memory of the movie along with it.

One way to use pathos to good effect, is to establish well-rounded characters that we can empathise with. By exploring their thoughts and feelings, their vulnerabilities and strengths, the audience starts to feel close to them, which leads to the reader feeling happy when life goes their way or upset when it doesn’t. Equally, writers can elicit more complex feelings by exploring different themes or dilemmas that might lead to the character making choices that readers might disagree with, eliciting their ire but still also forming an emotional connection with the story. One example of this is with Severus Snape from JK Rowling’s Harry Potter series. He is largely presented as an unlikeable character, who had fought for the villain Voldemort and was cruel to Harry in his time at Hogwarts. But he was also revealed to have been in love with Harry’s mother and working as a spy for the enemy in the present day. Many readers have been divided over whether his good actions outweigh the bad and whether his love for Harry’s mother and desire for redemption really make up for his behaviour toward Harry throughout the books.

Pathos can also be driven by the events of the story. If the characters are placed in a situation that the audience would find frightening or overwhelming, then the moment itself can trigger similar emotions even if the characters aren’t well developed yet. Horror movies take advantage of the power of pathos in this setting all the time. Often character development is limited but these films will draw on our fears of the events that are happening to the characters in order to keep us emotionally invested in the rest of the story.

Budding writers are told to ‘show, not tell’ in their narratives and pathos benefits the most from this technique. Research has shown that trying to picture a scene in our minds eye triggers activity in the same brain areas as when we are experiencing events ourselves. So the more we are immersed in the sensory experiences or the internal process of a character, the more connected we will feel with what is happening to them.

Ethos in Fiction

For storytelling, there are two ways in which ethos can apply. Firstly, within the story itself. A writer can demonstrate their credibility by writing well. If you start the first page and find spelling errors or clunky dialogue or figurative language that doesn’t seem to work, then you start to question whether their ideas are worth the time. Simply by making sure that their work is well-edited, a writer can demonstrate that are capable of telling a story and the audience is just that bit more likely to continue. All of the different storytelling techniques that writers try to learn, like the use of point of view, or story themes, or characterisation, or sentence structure, all combine to make them seem more credible to a reader.

But there are also factors outside of the book itself to be aware of. If an author is already well established then we trust that their content will be worth reading. We buy the next book in their series not based on any recommendations for that book, but based on our knowledge of the books that the writer has previously produced. This only takes a writer so far of course – if their audience reads the book and decides that its not on par with their previous work, then they’ll be less likely to buy the next story.

The importance of ethos is the reason why many writers are now on social media, posting about themselves and their work. If a reader feels that they know the writer, that they understand the writer’s point of view, then they’re more likely to pay for their work. Even before social media, books always had a blurb about the author, telling us something personal about them: unnecessary for enjoyment of the book, but sometimes those little details help us to decide whether a book is for us or not. I remember thinking that Jim Butcher was someone who might write my kind of fiction because his blurb said that he enjoyed playing tabletop games. I stuck a postcard of Terry Pratchett with rats on his shoulders up on my noticeboard because I loved my pet rats growing up and enjoyed the idea that I might share that love with one of my favourite writers.

Building credibility or likeability as a writer generally takes time. The Harry Potter series didn’t start to get big until it was three books in. Jim Butcher spent time on the convention circuit trying to make contacts in the literary industry before he found representation for his first Dresden Files book. Andy Weirposted his novel in a serialised format on his website and then self published it online but he had already spent years posting a web comic and short fiction on his website, building up the audience he needed to make his novel a success.

How does it all add together?

To go back to Aristotle, he believed that the most important element of these three concepts was logos, driven as he was by his attempts to convey rational, scientific argument in his work. When it comes to fiction, all three can play an important role in the success of a story. For a narrative to stand the test of time, any good writer will have considered how they are using each of these elements to contribute to the narrative that they want to sell to their audience. This doesn’t necessarily mean giving equal weight to each concept though – as already noted, Arthur C. Clarke wasn’t always very good with pathos but his stories carried scientific ideas that stood the test of time; and The Never-ending Story is remembered more for the emotional impact of the events on the characters. In terms of ethos, some writers work to sell themselves as much as they do their books, building connections with their fans, while others prefer not to be under the public eye, relying on the quality of their writing to establish their credibility. Each approach may build an audience, though it will likely be composed of different groups of people, drawn to the type of story that most appeals to them. The most important part for a writer is to consider their work and who they want their audience to be, so that they can use these three elements to help make their story a success.

 

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About the Author

 Caroline Ashley is a clinical psychologist who works for the NHS in Scotland. She loves fantasy in all forms and is fascinated by the ways in which the fantasical can speak to our everyday lives.

 

Trickster stories and why we need them

In my previous blog post The feral child archetype: stories and themes in real life and fiction, I introduced the concept of character archetypes that keep arising across different societies. Carl Jung believed that these archetypes represented elements of our psyche, coming to life within the stories that we tell each other.

Because archetypes are found in so many stories, everyone holds certain expectations about how these characters will behave when they are used in fiction. Writers can use these expectations as a tool to strengthen a narrative by using archetypes that speak to the themes that the writer is trying to convey. However, if they’re used poorly, a writer can risk their story simply sounding clichéd and derivative.

This blog post is about my favourite character archetype: The Trickster. They are the black sheep of the family; the jester in the court; the cause of the landslide falling down toward the village below. They are characters who are often morally ambiguous. If your life was made better by the trickster’s behaviour, was that intentional or just a by-product of them achieving their own goals? In folklore, tricksters aren’t the kind of gods that you welcome into your village, because you never know what chaos will follow them. You’re as likely to see your house burned to the ground as you are to see any benefit of their presence.

What is the trickster archetype?

The concept of the trickster is so endemic across society that Carl Jung listed the character as one of the archetypes that live within our collective unconscious. Jung’s Trickster is said to represent the irrational and chaotic elements of our personality. His role is to bring these elements to the surface. In doing so, he highlights the inconsistencies and humour in the lives we live.

Within folklore and mythology, the trickster character is a study in contrasts. Tricksters are rogues and thieves but they are also lovable scoundrels who bring a sense of playfulness and joy to a story. They are cunning and duplicitous but they are also often outsmarted and punished. They straddle the boundary between right and wrong, stability and chaos, and it depends on the story which side of the boundary they will fall.

Tricksters also speak to the absurdity of life. We live in a world where life inevitably leads to death; where pain and suffering are as endemic as happiness and laughter. Within stories the trickster often speaks to the unfairness of the world, but he laughs about it along the way, softening the underlying message of our lack of control over an uncaring universe.

Tricksters from myth and fiction

Tricksters can be found across the world, some more well known than others.

Loki – if you’re a fan of the MCU then you’ll already be familiar with Loki, the Norse god of mischief. Loki could change his shape and his sex. He was sometimes known to work with the gods and at other times he worked against them, the definition of disorder within Norse mythology. He frequently uses his cunning to solve problems for the gods, though on several occasions he had caused the problem in the first place. He becomes increasingly antagonistic toward the gods, eventually being bound and tortured until Ragnarok, when he would escape and contribute to their defeat and the rebirth of the world.

Maui – A Polynesian folk hero who was brought into mainstream awareness when he featured in Moana. Maui’s stories were told across most of Polynesia: he was known for bringing fire to humankind; pulling the islands from the ocean with his hook; and slowing down the movement of the sun. Maui’s stories frequently have him outwitting the gods to change the world for the betterment of humankind.

Anansi – the spider trickster of West African myth, Anansi is a crafty trickster who can fool humans, animals and gods alike, generally for the purpose of making his life easier and others’ lives more difficult. Legends say he helped give humankind the sun, moon and rain, as well as writing and agriculture.

Coyote – across Native American myth, several animals have trickster stories associated with them, including Raven, Bluejay, and Rabbit, but the most well known is Coyote. Not all Coyote stories agree with each other, but they all speak about a similar character. Coyote is known for such things as impatiently tossing the stars into the sky to form the milky way and making death permanent because he believed there wasn’t enough food for everyone to live forever.

Eris – the Greek goddess of discord. She is most well-known for starting a fight between the other goddesses after she wasn’t invited to a wedding, which ultimately led to the Trojan war.

Matilda – a child-friendly trickster story of a clever girl with special powers who uses her cunning to play pranks on the abusive adults around her. Their crimes are found out and she ends up living a happy life with her teacher.

Jack Sparrow – in Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow takes on the role of a trickster. He is a cunning character who cares only for his own self interest. He helps others when it benefits his goals and he always seems to escape any significant consequences for his actions.

Deadpool – the fourth-wall breaking anti-hero of the Marvel Universe, Deadpool often sits on the edge of good versus bad, his actions generally driven by his own impulsive urges rather than any long term plan. He has a regenerative healing factor so he throws himself into danger, with little need to care about the consequences. Deadpool often speaks to the audience in his stories, cracking jokes and making fun of the narrative as well as the wider comic universe.

The features of a trickster

There are certain features that tend to define tricksters across the world:

Their motives are ambiguous or fickle

Often they make impulsive choices based on their own needs and wants, and it’s never clear how much they intend to help or hinder those around them. In African myth, Anansi decided that he wanted to become wise, so he gathered a bit of wisdom from everyone in the village, storing it in a gourd. He tried to climb a tree to hide his wisdom with the gourd on his belt. When his son saw Anansi struggling, he suggested wearing it on his back. Anansi realised that even with all that wisdom, his son was still wiser than him, so he cast the contents of the gourd away, thus spreading wisdom all across the world.

They play tricks

Tricksters are cunning and devious. Their stories often involve them manipulating those around them, sometimes to meet their own needs, sometimes to make fun of their victims and knock them down a peg or two. Esu, an African god, once intervened when two farmers promised never to argue. He wore a hat which was black on one side and white on another and after causing the farmers to argue over the colour, then turns it inside out and tells them it’s red. There is a Coyote story where he goes to the Frog People, who hold control of all the water. Coyote doesn’t like this, so he asks for a drink, which they allow, but while his head is under the water he makes a hole in the dam, allowing the other animals to drink freely and creating all the rivers and waterfalls.

They are masters of disguise

Some tricksters, like Loki, are shape-shifters who change form to trick those around them. Others, like Coyote, might use disguises to hide who they are.

Messenger and antagonist of the gods

Tricksters often have a close connection with the gods but whether they help or hinder them very much depends on the trickster’s mood during that particular story. Take Loki, for example, in one story he cuts off the goddess Sif’s golden hair as a prank but when he is caught, he travels to the dwarves and lavishes them in praise and false promises so that they will produce a cap of golden hair to replace it.

Their actions disrupt the status quo

Often after a trickster story, something about the situation they were in has fundamentally changed, like fire being stolen from the gods by Maui, Prometheus or Coyote; or wisdom being shared with humanity by Anansi. There is a story in Norse mythology where Loki causes the death of Baldur, a god of light and purity, known for his kindness and wisdom. There was a prophecy about Baldur’s death and his mother tried to avoid it by making every entity vow not to harm him. She didn’t ask mistletoe though, and when Loki heard this he tricked Baldur’s brother into firing a mistletoe arrow and killing Balder. Baldur’s death, the death of light and truth, is the first step towards Ragnarok, where the world will be destroyed, to rise again renewed and cleansed.

What are the themes in trickster stories?

Even the smallest among us can change the world

One example of trickster stories being used to inspire comes from Anansi. With the rise of the slave trade, Anansi became a symbol of slave resistance – the representation of a strategy to turn the tides on powerful oppressors. Anansi’s stories were also a connection to their African heritage and a means of retaining their identity. By telling stories about a character who could shape the world despite not being powerful, slaves were able to hold on to a small piece of their agency in a time when their slavers sought to take it from them.

Those in charge aren’t always right

Trickster stories tell us that conforming to society’s rules isn’t always the best thing to do. By breaking the rules and challenging authority, sometimes we can create a better world to live in.

You don’t have to conform to be happy

tricksters throughout the world stand out from the crowd in various ways. They change shape; they’re promiscuous; they’re impulsive; they don’t think about the consequences of their actions. And yet, they are generally happy characters. They are content in who they are and find power in being different, often actually looking down on those who do try to conform to the rules and boundaries that the trickster is often breaking.

There is a cost to challenging authority

Trickster stories also warn us of the consequences of being the one who challenges the status quo. Even when tricksters succeed at their goal, they can be ostracised or punished for their actions by the gods, animals or people they have tricked. Maui dies trying to achieve immortality; Loki is tortured until Ragnarok; Prometheus is cursed to have his liver perpetually eaten by an eagle. There is a freedom to acting on your impulses, to doing as you please and having no respect for authority, but it also makes you an outsider. People generally don’t like change and they may not thank the person who causes it.

Are tricksters still relevant today?

Here in the 21st century, there is still a need for someone who helps us to find our voice within the crowd. In the public sphere, there are debates over transgender rights and we question what it truly means to be a man or a woman – or whether the distinction is even necessary. This is something that trickster stories have been touching on for centuries. Many tricksters are male but they are often shown to be comfortable in female form (Loki, in fact, while generally presented as male, is also a mother to the eight-legged horse Sleipnir). This crossing of the boundary between male and female showed that societal expectations for men and women were as subject to challenge by the trickster as any other boundary and no more static than any other aspect of society. In this modern world where gender definitions and expectations are increasingly varied, perhaps a trickster, who has no concern for gender or for societal expectations of sexuality, is the kind of character who might speak most strongly to those trying to work out how they slot into society.

The same might be true for neurodiversity. We are more aware of neurodiversity than ever before and diagnoses of ADHD and ASD are at an all time high, but what those labels mean in terms of who we are and how we fit in the world is still unclear for a lot of people. The tricksters can be impulsive, hyperactive, unconcerned with social niceties, more concerned with their own agenda than anyone else’s and often live on the edge of society. They are the odd ones out and they don’t care, because they are comfortable with who they are. Characters who show us how to be confident may lead the way in helping us find confidence for ourselves.

Linking back to Jung’s theories, there are parts of the trickster archetype in all of us. The trickster inside demands that we rail against discrimination; that we challenge those in authority to accept our differences and to move with the times; that we give into our impulses and just do as we please. But the trickster also knows what it costs to take on that role and that society at large will not always accept difference – it takes a level of bravery, and sometimes foolishness too, to not care what others think.

In the end, we write stories about tricksters to help us to reconcile those two sides of the coin – characteristics of the trickster are necessary to prevent our society from stagnating, but they are also to be feared, because who knows what the consequences of those actions might be?

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About the author

Caroline Ashley author red hair

Caroline Ashley is a clinical psychologist who works for the NHS in Scotland. She loves fantasy in all forms and is fascinated by the ways in which the fantasical can speak to our everyday lives.

Spillwords interview

Spillwords have published an interview with me that you are welcome to read on their website. They also published a shorter interview that I had completed before becoming author of the month, but which actually came out a week or so afterwards. I’m not really one for chatting much about myself, but I guess if I want to eventually sell my writing, part of that will involve sharing some of myself with my audience. Thank you to Spillwords for pushing me out of my comfort zone! 🙈

Globe Soup also announced the winners and finalists for their 2023 open contest at the beginning of the month. My story made it into a finalist place, which was amazing and another huge boost to my confidence as a writer, but also makes me feel a bit of a bridesmaid – when do I get to be the one who takes home the prize? 🤣 That said, the winners were very well written and their prizes well-deserved, so if you’re looking for something short to read, you can’t go wrong with checking them out 😊

In terms of my plan for the next few weeks, I should be posting my next Storytelling blog post within the week. Wish me luck!

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Author of the month!

When I started trying to get my work published online, Spillwords was one of the first places to accept a short story of mine for their website. This month I’ve been nominated as their author of the month for October 2023!

I’m never usually someone who wins popularity contests, being the introverted nerd that I am, so I’m very proud that my work has inspired people to vote for me 😊 If you haven’t read my stories on Spillwords, you can find them on my Spillwords author page.

I’ve just finished a long month or so of writing short stories for the Globe Soup genre smash followed by pulling another story together for the Commonwealth Short Story prize. My brain now feels like mince 😅 But despite that, I’m about to start working on the final chapters of George Square – started when my 19 month old wasn’t even born yet, I’m excited to get to the finale. There are already things that I’m desperate to edit but overall I’m really happy with what I’ve managed to accomplish. ❤️

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The woodsman and the witch

I’ve fallen a bit behind on my updates so this is a couple of days out of date!

Spillwords have published a micro fiction piece of mine called The Woodsman and the Witch – a dark little story to get people in the mood for Halloween 🎃

I also published my latest blog post earlier this evening: Using simile and metaphor to write effective stories

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