Reflections Quotes

“When I say "narrative", I do not mean simply the plot, I mean considerably more. Plots and their shapes--the bare outlines of stories--were something I know J.R.R. Tolkien himself was interested in. When I was an undergraduate, I went to a course of lectures he gave on the subject--at least, I think that was the subject, because Tolkien was all but inaudible. He evidently hated lecturing, and I suspect he also hated giving his thoughts away.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“I hate dialect. It gets in the way. If there is a need for dialect, you can render it quite easily by reproducing the rythm of that form of speech. Then you don't need to bother with silly spellings”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“Granny was truly marvellous; five feet of Yorkshire common sense, love, and superstition. She was always saying wise things. I remember, among many sayings, when one time she had given me a particularly good present, she said, "No it's not generous. Being generous is giving something that's hard to give." She was so superstitious that she kept a set of worthless china to break when she happened to break something good, on the grounds that breakages always came in threes and it was as well to get it over. I would have been lost without Granny, that I know.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“I remember passing the tomboy, sitting in her special place of punishment opposite the bully. She was blazing with her deed, as if she had actually been touched by a god. And I thought that this confirmed all my theories: a child in her position is open to any heroic myth I care to use; she is inward with folktales; she would feel the force of any magical or divine intervention.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“A good children's book, written by someone aware of the responsibilities, tries to follow the pattern of the mind when it is working properly. Very early on it will say "what if?" and proceed with enjoyment and wonder to run through the possibilities resulting from that. It may go to surprising lengths here, and there will be things half heard and only hinted at, possibly, as people's minds have the built-in tendency to respond with excitement to mystery. The "what if" often (though not invariably) entails fantasy, and it is over the element of fantasy that many writers, not only those who say imagination drives you mad, get the wrong idea. They assume that because a thing is "made up' it is unreal or untrue (disregarding the fact that any kind of story except the most factual biography is always "made up"). They see a child reading a fairy story, or constructing his or her own fantasy, and they at once conclude that the child is retreating into make-believe simply to get comfort in a melancholy situation”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“They knew that if, as a child, you do pluck up the courage to hit a bully, it is an act of true heroism--as great as that of Beowulf in his old age.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“Obviously, we have to start with some basic definition of the hero and the heroic ideal. [...] I was saddened to find that, as an eldest child and a girl, I was barred fro heroism entirely--or was I? [In Scheharazade's The Arabian Nights] The log of wood was a girl, and she most heroically set things to right. Good. It was possible for a girl to be a hero then.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“It just lies behind the slightly more normal things I do do. This sense that most people are crazy, if you look deep enough. Adults particularly, and children have to deal with them.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing

“You took a social problem--parents divorcing, mother a nymphomaniac, father drunk or gay (or both), brother on drugs, child crippled or bullied, a moron in the family, epilepsy, poverty (but only if you were stuck for a problem; poverty was too easy)--and you wrote about this Problem in stark, distressing terms. Then--this is the Rule--you gave it to the child with that problem to read. The child was supposed to delight in the insight and to see his own parents (or brother or disability) as a joyful challenge.”
― Diana Wynne Jones, Reflections: On the Magic of Writing