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evergreen-dryad · 4 years

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7, 8, 15, and 19? ^-^

(sorry for the late reply! Wifi is rotten and as you can see I thought long and hard for each ask)

My favourite...

7 - quote: ...this is actually quite hard because I don’t have a specific one that springs to mind.

I do store certain quotes though, like from fanfiction or poetry. And I used to copy down quotes into notebooks (can’t refer to them right now though...)

(And there really are a lot of good quotes ranging from advice to celebrating life.)

So to pick one that I live by and is part of me now? Hmm...

The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can't be any large-scale revolution until there's a personal revolution, on an individual level. It's got to happen inside first. ― Jim Morrison

Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction. ― Criss Jami

The above two are so part of me now I nearly forgot they once came from an outside source.

“Perhaps this world no longer needs me, but I believe I need it. The world has its own marvels. Why not make the best of the wonders that already surround us?” ― novalotypo, brilliant lights will cease to burn (by my hand i'll reignite them), chapter 7 (Yorihiko, a god)

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day. ― A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

it’s not the actual direct quote, it’s more of a paraphrase.

To impoverish the world of the birds and the bees is to impoverish it of the bards and the biologists. ― Maria Popova, Brain Pickings

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ― e.e. cummings

Character — the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life — is the source from which self-respect springs. ― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethleham

Perfection is “lean” and “taut” and “hard” — like a boy athlete of twenty, a girl gymnast of twelve. What kind of body is that for a man of fifty or a woman of any age? “Perfect”? What’s perfect? A black cat on a white cushion, a white cat on a black one . . . A soft brown woman in a flowery dress . . . There are a whole lot of ways to be perfect, and not one of them is attained through punishment. ― Ursula K. Le Guin, Dogs, Cats, and Dancers: Thoughts about Beauty

just that entire essay. I wish I could imprint it into the underside of my eyelids and carry it everywhere with me. It is perhaps one of the enduring reasons why I would like to take up dancing.

Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist’s true friend.

In order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here? … Think of those times when you’ve read prose or poetry that is presented in such a way that you have a fleeting sense of being startled by beauty or insight, by a glimpse into someone’s soul. All of a sudden everything seems to fit together or at least to have some meaning for a moment. ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

It seems that a great deal is there, the things we most fear (and therefore deny), the things we most need (and therefore deny). I wonder, couldn't we start listening to our dreams, and our children’s dreams? "Where did you fall to, and what did you discover?” ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Word for World is Forest.

Um, have my current top 11 10 instead? ...It’s really too hard for me to pick just one. The first 4 all originate from fanfiction, 3 of which were quoted in the beginning notes/were the theme of the fic.

8 - type of dream: the type where I’m transported. the type I can remember vividly as I’m released from sleep. But sadly, most dreams I remember are from when I’ve been awoken abruptly in the day.

I think I love most the dreams where I’m floating, or swimming, in a great big beautiful body of water, and there is a new fantastic grotesque exaggerated world tossed up like mismatched pieces to explore.

15 - decade before the 2020s: (*breaks into a wheeze* ”I’m not that old...” I said out loud.)

Decade which I actually lived through: ...I suppose 2000-2010? Things were still quieter, the hill was still green and undisturbed (less land cleared), some people still fished in the large drain (?) and I could look out for the turtles my father told me were there in his time, yes 2008 was the year of the GFC but... my family was still better off in those years. Just less worries overall, far less reliance on electronics. What was internet? Historical decade: ...that would suppose a location as well. I’ve never really been so fascinated by historical eras I want to experience them (too many cons for women in the past lol), but perhaps the time period the Library of Alexandria was still standing, before its decline. So around 200 BC lol

19 - poem: hMM.

I thought it would be e.e. cummings, but surprisingly it’s The Song of Wandering Aengus by William Butler Yeats. And I actually like Robert Frost’s style more than these two. I wish I read more poetry and I keep forgetting to check out haikus but yeah what exposure I get tends to be from fanfiction.

I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire aflame, But something rustled on the floor, And some one called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

Why do I like this poem best:

fantasy-like/fae vibes

‘because a fire was in my head’ -- lovely way to describe overthinking etc which is the state I can typically be found in. Running out to nature to clear my thoughts? Also a thing I do

idyllic life descriptions. I just love the imagery in the first verse. That entire fishing sequence with moths and stars and a silver fish (white white white)? Muah

last verse is our protagonist pining till old age, v romantic

I’m just asdwd at that last two lines. It’s such pretty imagery, and are they implying they’ve found Eden-like perfection by finding the girl? Anyway something about those two lines seize my imagination by the throat. It’s very mythlike.

#joey-yellow-county #asks #about me #thank you for sending one in!#they were very interesting and made me think hard

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thereallonelyagain · 6 years

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1 to 50 for the ask meme! You only have one series so Dislocated souls! Gimme them sweet sweet answers

From the Fanfiction Writer Asks: You asked.

1) 42.2) Dragon Age. And one small original work. I prefer the DA one.3) OCs.4) Fantasy5) DS: Skyhold. It has more opportunity for worldbuilding.6) I really only have one story, in a series, but if I had to delete one, it would be the second piece, Andrew's Decisions.7) Evening to middle of the night.8) Just about everywhere, honestly. Friends, reading, games, tv/movie, nature, history, mythology, etc.9) The reaction to red lyrium. I got to write in Haiku.10) The only ended one is Dislocated Souls, and the destruction of Haven was a pivotal point/climax in the original game. I didn't have any plans to end it elsewhere, as that was a natural stop/pause point.11) Yes. Not because of "I didn't like it", but sometimes because I unintentionally offended or mistreated characters in ways that resonated poorly with people who identified with them.12) I love writing Garalen, an OC of mine. She doesn't talk much, but she's so pivotal to so many things.13) Sera. Not because I don't love her, but because I have trouble getting her voice right.14) Dislocate means to move from its proper place, and it seemed to fit.15) It varies. I look at the general phenomes for canon characters of the same type (race, origin, location), and then create something that fits in.16) I'm not sure. It was mostly a "I can do that" after becoming disillusioned with the other fic offerings available.17) “Tsk tsk.” Lying creature. “For how long do you intend to quote poetry set to music?”18) Nope. THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE.19) Actually, I'm in the middle of the sequel to my first story.20) Not yet. I'm sure that it'll happen, though.21) Comavampure. Or I suppose it's VisceralComa now. She has an incredible way with words, her worldbuilding is top notch, her characters are believable, loveable, and hateable, and she updates regularly for numerous fics in multiple fandoms.22) Not really, though I do cringe at some of the early chapters of my series. I didn't really get into a good groove until the Skyhold one.23) I like music, but it can't be in a language I understand.24) It's fun.25) Yes.26) The reaction to loss. It's hard to convey that feeling of desolation without invoking death.27) A little of both? I'm assured that my bulletpoint notes and overarching theme ideas are much like an outline, but at the same time, I really do go with the flow from moment to moment.28) I don't know. Everything? It's been an exciting ride.29) I only have one series, and it seems to be well-received.30) Not really? I'm glad people like my work. Why would I be unhappy about that? Or insult with eye-rolling?31) You forgot the fic rec, @visceralcoma.32) Not really. Sometimes I'll get specific traits or personality bits, but no one is based off any particular individual.33) Keysmashes. They're amazing. And book report reviews. I love them, because I get to flesh out my very limited POV with background and other information.34) I'm apparently a sexist, racist, horrible person. If I were to take one person's opinion to heart. Luckily, I TRY not to be. We all have our -isms, and the point is to try to be better from day to day.35) Sometimes. I have a close group of friends, (check out Inquisitits here on Tumblr!) and I share a whole lot with them. I also use a lot of worldbuilding, and bouncing ideas back and forth regarding how logical/plausible/likely something is helps a ton.36) The person you think is the hero probably isn't, and the person you think is the villain likewise probably isn't.37) Probably the explicit side.38) Coma, Spell, Kinako, Mayamelissa. I don't collab well, but this would be my shortlist if I had to.39) I write in first person, but actually prefer third person. First person is very limiting, but fun. Third person opens up your options on POV, omniscience, narrator, background information, etc.40) Most people I'm close to know. And people online, of course.41) Cara. She's rarely seen/talked about, but I just adore her.42) I don't precisely do songfic, but I have put songs in my fic. It helps set a mood, or facilitates a memory, or whatever. But I wouldn't just throw song lyrics in for no purpose.43) A few times. I have a few dedicated readers that have figured out some major things.44) “No, I mean maybe, how would I know, but that’s not it.” 45) I don't know? I'm stubborn, maybe? And I really do enjoy writing the story. I have places I want to go, things I want to do with it.46) I'm in the middle of the sequel right now. Feel free to read it.47) You forgot to add the title, Coma.48) Fish out of water.49) I can't, actually. It's been a LONG time.50) Probably smut. Because it's easy to slip other tidbits into it.

Happy now, Coma?

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ficdirectory · 7 years

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Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 62

CHAPTER 62

NOW

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Home: 3 years, 2 months and 11 days

“Jesus!” Frankie stage-whispers.

He groans and buries his face in his pillow.

“Jesus! It’s Christmas and Santa came and there’s presents! Even ones for Moms!”

“Yeah, that’s great. Awesome. Go to sleep, okay?” He opens one eye to check the time. “It’s 2 AM, dude. Seriously?”

“Does that mean it’s Christmas?” Frankie whispers again.

“No. Christmas only starts when it’s light out. So go back to sleep, okay, buddy? I’ll see you when it’s light out.”

“I can’t go downstairs in the dark by myself…” Frankie protests.

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you should be sleeping when it’s dark. Wait. How did you know there were presents downstairs if you can’t get down there?” (For a terrifying second he imagines Frankie sledding down the staircase like Kevin in Home Alone.)

“Jude…”

Exhausted, Jesus, pushes back his blankets and feels his way to the doorway to pick Frankie up. He carries her to Jude’s room first. The door is open, but only Brandon sleeps inside.

Carefully, Jesus walks down the stairs with Frankie and looks around.

“Santa and the reindeers eated all of our cookies and milk!” Frankie whispered right in his face.

Jesus can see Jude by the tree and walks up to him. Nudges him with a foot.

“You wake her, you take her,” he says.

But Jude doesn’t move. Jesus listens, and hears him breathing all heavy.

“Who checks out all the presents and then falls asleep?” Jesus scoffs. He sits down on the couch with Frankie, to stare at the tree, all lit. Presents stacked all around.

He snags a blanket and covers Jude, sprawled on the floor. Then goes back to the couch and covers himself and Frankie with the yellow fleece he’d worn down from his room.

“Can we open presents yet?” Frankie whispers.

“Not yet. Look at the tree, okay? See how nice the lights are.”

“I say presents are nicer,” Frankie pouts. But soon her breathing evens out, and she’s snoring. Jesus crashes, too.

The next thing he knows, it’s like deja vu. Somebody else is whispering his name. He opens his eyes and squints in the morning light. Frankie’s still sleeping hard, sprawled all over him. Jesus glares at Mariana.

“What?”

“Jeez, Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Grinch,” she whispers. “I just wanted to know if I could take your picture. You guys look so cute.”

He grimaces. “No. Memorize it. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Callie and I are making cinnamon rolls whenever you decide you want breakfast.”

“Huh?” Jude asks, too loud, jerking up from his spot on the floor.

Frankie jumps in her sleep, and whimpers. Jesus pats her back. Wishes his bro didn’t have such weird habits in his sleep. The teeth grinding was enough to have Jesus throwing all the couch pillows at Jude during the last few hours. Luckily he stopped after Jesus threw the last one.

“Cinnamon rolls, nerd,” Mari says, reaching down to set a Santa hat on Jude’s head.

“Mmm,” he says, still half asleep.

By 8:00, Moms are up, which means everybody else is up, too. Nobody can sleep through Mom’s tone deaf performance of Don’t Save It All for Christmas Day, which was another song Jesus has never even heard of before.

They eat cinnamon rolls and it’s then that Jesus realizes he hasn’t showered. He doesn’t want to hold anybody up but a shower on Christmas is more than nice, it’s necessary. So even though everyone’s looking about ready to open stuff, Jesus has to bail.

“I have to shower, guys, I’m sorry. I’ll go quick, okay? Maybe if Moms say it’s okay, you guys can open your stocking presents now…” He’s saying this mostly to hold off a major meltdown from Frankie, who is tired and hyper from all the cinnamon roll icing. (He’d rather not be there when they see the haikus he wrote for all of them. He means them. They’re just private. And if somebody read theirs aloud or passed it around? That would be awful.)

Jesus sends a pleading look Mama’s way. Everybody’s dressed in red or green. (He’ll have to bust out his best long sleeved tee shirt for the day. Does he have a red or green one?) Mama’s got her necklace of holiday lights with the switch that turns them on and off. Jesus loves that thing. It’s holiday tradition for sure.

“Sure, sounds good, bud, if you’re okay with opening yours when you come back…” she says.

“Yeah. Totally,” he agrees.

“Jesus wait,” Brandon says, shocking him. B hasn’t said two words this morning, because he’s used to sleeping past noon on breaks and weekends. 8 AM is still super early for him.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Your Christmas present,” he says, handing him a scrap of paper.

He doesn’t check it out until it falls out of his pajama pants in the bathroom. It’s a YouTube link and a title: Wintersong. Confused, Jesus searches Wintersong and Brandon’s YouTube channel. When he finds the video and hits play, everything makes sense. It’s just an audio recording against a snowy winter landscape. But then the piano starts and Jesus recognizes the song Mariana, Frankie, Brandon and Callie did last night. This isn’t like the impromptu version they did last night. This is different. Sounds professional.

Jesus loops it and jumps in the shower, so easily anchored in the present through something way difficult, by not only Brandon, but his sisters, too. He’s surprised out of his mind almost when he hears Mama and Jude dueting on the “sense of joy” lines, and then Mom holding her own with the short line “As you throw your arms up to the sky.”

His whole family. His whole family did this for him. (How, he has no idea. Maybe when Jesus was in therapy each week?) But he doesn’t care how they did it, just that they did it at all.

Jesus lets the song play through twice, because it’s short, and because he needs to hear it again. He loves them so much. He hopes the verses he wrote for them convey as much, and just how much this means to him.

When he finds them all in the living room, each with a giant Christmas themed reusable bag to hold their presents, and any wrapping paper and boxes picked up, he breathes a sigh of relief. He spots Brandon sitting in a chair in the corner and walks over to him.

“Dude. Thank you. That was epic.” And for the first time since he’s been home, Jesus embraces Brandon.

“I got your poem,” is all he says back, but Jesus can tell his voice has gotten thick. Jesus remembers what he wrote, word for word, to Brandon:

Invisible Boy,

Your music is my anchor.

Make the world better.

And he had. He’s playing piano again. The hug lasts a bit, but it’s okay. When Jesus steps back, nobody comments. He goes to everybody else and hugs them, too. Tells them thank you. Because what they did matters.

Finally, it’s time for presents, which is good, ‘cause Frankie looks fit to explode from the anticipation.

Jesus has a plan to get him through this, too. He’s gonna take breaks. As many as he needs. Moms have told him they won’t pressure him to stay with the family for all of it, and that he can step away whenever he needs it.

The first round of gifts goes okay. Frankie gets a ton of Frozen stuff and a Doc McStuffins mobile clinic that she plays with while turning her back to Jesus. (“So you don’t have to see this and be scared.”)

Everything’s going pretty well. Jesus has taken three breaks. They’re trying to keep the mess to a minimum, and Jesus doesn’t have to worry about a mess too near him because his only gift so far as been the music from the fam. He’s enjoying just watching everyone else, when he realizes they’re nearing the end. Everybody has “big” gifts that come last. Jesus won’t, because he got his already. He got some smaller stuff, but he spent the money Moms would have spent on him on making the stairs work for Frankie.

So, he’s shocked when he’s handed a “big” present with all the rest of the kids.

“These are from Grams,” Mama says, and Jesus opens the coolest long pillow that he could totally sleep next to, or on, or whatever. When he squeezes it, he realizes it’s got that awesome memory foam in it.

He’s about to check out what the other kids got - sees Mariana with some clothes and Brandon with a new luggage set when a sound stops him. It’s familiar. Chilling.

Zzzzzzzip.

Nobody else reacts. Because nobody else has been zipped in a duffel bag before. Just Jesus. (Just Isaac.) He gets up and steps away to the closest room. The kitchen.

So not an ideal situation.

He’s breathing too deep, braced over the sink, when Jesus hears Jude’s voice behind him:

“Whatever it is, I have your back.”

Jesus nods. Shows his hands, out of habit, because they are in the kitchen after all.

“What are you doing here?” he gasps.

“You got all pale and walked out. Wanted to be sure you were okay.”

“Everything okay?” Brandon now.

Jesus turns, angry, but not. “Your damn duffel bag. Sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t know,” Brandon admits. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah… Where’d Jude go?” Jesus asks, to distract himself from the fact that his heart is beating like a damn jackhammer.

“I asked Frankie if I could give you this,” he says, like Jesus’s words have conjured him out of the air. Jude’s back in the kitchen holding a badly-wrapped gift with too much tape. It says:

JESUSFRANKIE

Jesus can’t think. Can’t talk. Just shakes his head.

“I’ll open it in there and come back,” Jude says, running to the living room.

Brandon stays close but doesn’t touch him.

In seconds Jude’s back, holding a bottle of blue glitter. He hands it to Jesus. “She and Mama made it for you. Frankie was so excited she told me about it early. So that’s how I knew.”

“Sit down,” Brandon urges.

Jesus does. Jude puts the glitter bottle in front of him. Brandon sits beside him. “Have you ever tried to watch just one piece the whole time?”

Jesus is trying that, when Jude comes back to the table with the covered plate of pickle rollups Mama made at his request.

He takes three off the plate, and sets them all in front of Jesus, no plate.

“These are yours,” Jesus says, staring at his one piece of glitter until he loses track of it.

“And now they’re yours,” Jude says, nudging them closer.

“Ever hear of a plate? Seriously, pickle rollups on the clean table…” Brandon reprimands lightly. Standing, he goes to the crockpot and stabs some Little Smokies, grabs a plate and brings them over. “In case you wanted something hot.”

“Is it weird if I play the song again?” Jesus asks. “I just need to get the sound out of my head.”

“Yeah, I haven’t heard it,” Jude says eagerly, but he keeps calm, too. It helps Jesus to not get too wound up.

“If you hated the Christmas Eve version, we had something else we were gonna do instead…” Brandon offers, making Jesus laugh unexpectedly.

“That’s a lot of pre-planning…” Jesus manages.

“Hey, you’re worth it,” Jude says easily, and nods, totally confident.

He plays the song again, with the glitter and the food. And it helps. But he still stays in the kitchen until the luggage is out of sight.

“Hey, buddy!” Frankie exclaims. “Did you like my Super Glitter Bomb Blaster I made ya?”

“I do. I always wanted a Super Glitter Bomb Blaster. How did you know?”

“I just know,” Frankie answered cryptically. “Hey, can I have some pickles?”

Moms check in, and he has to keep his distance from Mom because his handcuff fear is at an all-time high. Mariana stays nearby and Callie offers Mrs. Longbottom if Jesus is in need of her assistance. He says no thanks.

They eat a big lunch and that helps some.

They watch the Cooking Channel and that helps some more.

Before he knows it, it’s night, and the day has gotten away in a haze of self care: music, glitter, and lots of food. Frankie crashed by the tree surrounded by presents that she refused to move. Mari takes a picture so she can show Jesus. (He hopes Mariana will delete it after.) But she looks like Jesus wishes he could look. Totally relaxed. Guard down. Surrounded by good memories.

“I loved all your poems,” she told him, after giving them both hot chocolate and candy cane refills.

“You read all of them?” he asks.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you could write like that. I think my favorites were, mine, of course…”

(You may not know this

But you saved me, just by

Never leaving me.)

“ ...but I also really liked Frankie’s...”

(You are my sunshine

On so many cloudy days.

Shine on, Francesca.)

...Brandon’s and Mama’s, too.”

(Where the wild things are

You were so undaunted that

You held onto me.)

Jesus smiles. “You realize that’s over half of them, right?”

“Yes, I realize that. I’m kind of a math genius…”

“I’m gonna probably go to bed...with this…” he says, holding out the cup. He bends down, dropping a kiss on her head. “Night, sis. Love you. Thanks for my present again. I love it more than you know.”

“You don’t love it more than I love you,” she says softly.

“Not possible,” he grins, and walks upstairs. The living room’s picked up, so it’s okay.

At the doorway to his room, Jesus stops and checks his mail. Ruby’s Christmas card had been in there. And some others. But this time, there’s only one envelope. He hasn’t thought to check it since yesterday morning. More mail had come since then.

He brings it in and puts down his haul from the day. Gets comfortable on the giant pillow from Grams, and squints at the envelope in his hands.

A. Martin.

Santa Barbara.

Oh shit.

With shaking hands, Jesus rips open the envelope and and shakes out a piece of yellow legal paper. Reads:

Dear Jesus,

I can’t tell you how much it meant to receive the letter from Ike just in time for Christmas. While my heart is still, and will always be broken, without my little boy, I want you to know it comforts me to know he had a friend like you looking out for him. Enclosed is a photo for you to keep.

Thank you,

Allie (Isaac’s mom)

Hesitantly, Jesus shakes out the picture, flipping it so he doesn’t have to see the image until he’s ready. The back reads:

Ike playing in the snow. South Lake Tahoe. December 22, 2009.

Just three days before he was taken. This is probably one of the last pictures she has of her son, and she sent it to Jesus.

He takes a deep breath and flips it over...and there’s Isaac. He’s laughing, and snow is falling all around him. He looks so alive. So there. So right now.

Jesus smiles, even as tears fall down his cheeks. Song lyrics are there in his head instead of thoughts, because Jesus can’t think past the lump in his throat:

And this is how I see you:

In the snow on Christmas morning.

#fic: disuphere #fosters fic

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newstwitter-blog · 7 years

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New Post has been published on News Twitter

New Post has been published on http://www.news-twitter.com/2017/03/16/la-times-books-not-boys-director-bill-condon-on-updating-beauty-and-the-beast-and-the-whole-princessprisoner-deal-3/

La Times: 'Books, not boys': Director Bill Condon on updating 'Beauty and the Beast' and the whole princess/prisoner deal

One of the most cherished musical numbers in a Disney movie centers on a young woman ostracized from her community because she likes to read.

“Look there she goes, that girl is strange no question. Dazed and distracted, can’t you tell?”

This is how we meet one of Disney’s most progressive princesses: Belle, the girl who dared to read. She’s the nonconformist, the outsider, the nerd.

“Never part of any crowd. ’Cause her head’s up on some cloud. No denying she’s a funny girl, that Belle!”

Life in Belle’s poor provincial town, as described in the classic song by the late lyricist Howard Ashman and composer Alan Menken, sounds quite cruel for the bookish heroine.

Not only is Belle labeled a “funny girl,” her inability to fit in is called a “sin.” But despite societal pressure, she reads on. And that passion for education was one of the emotional cornerstones director Bill Condon used to build new plot points and broaden the characters inside the retelling of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” as a live-action film.

“[Reading] defined Belle in the original movie,” Condon says the day after the film’s Hollywood premiere.

Still energized from the positive audience response at the El Capitan Theatre, the director breaks down how he turned animated fantasy into live action reality.

“Books, not boys. And everything that books represent,” he says. “It’s a double thing for her. There’s an escape into the adventure of books, but it’s also just feeding her imagination, and the zeal for knowledge. That’s something that, I think, is important to a lot of us.”

While the animated film’s townsfolk chided Belle’s interest in education as foolish, the new movie (opening in theaters Thursday) goes one step further — they punish her for it. One particularly harrowing scene shows the locals outraged at the sight of Belle (played by Emma Watson) teaching another girl how to read. They are so enraged by this act that they destroy Belle’s clever clothes washing contraption (in this movie, her father, Maurice, isn’t the only inventor).

“What I’m proud of in our movie is that [Belle’s] also become an activist 25 years later,” Condon says. “That she not only has a private interest in [reading], but she wants to share it and figure out how to help other little girls discover books too.”

No longer does Belle sit solitarily reading to disinterested sheep — “Oh isn’t this amazing” — she’s actively trying to get young women involved.

The ramifications of reading are threaded throughout Condon’s feature. The heavily stocked bookshop that the original Belle frequented in her cartoon town has been swapped out for a more realistic representation of the times. New Belle picks from a minuscule collection of reading material housed in the local church.

“There weren’t bookstores in 1740,” Condon says. “It’s as simple as that. The church would have been the center for learning, and she’s found one priest who connects to her. Everyone else thinks it’s just an absolutely crazy thing that a woman would be interested.” This makes the eventual reveal of the Beast’s expansive castle library even more impressive.

Even LeFou, the lackey to the villainous Gaston, gets an illiteracy gag in his climactic solo during the rowdy tavern performance of “Gaston.” It’s a moment not lost on Josh Gad, the actor behind the joke and father of two little girls.

“Right now, my daughter is learning how to read,” Gad says. “To have this character whose superpower is essentially that she devours books and is an inventor is a great thing to hold up and share with them. She is the hero of the movie. I think that now more than ever we need amazing female role models like that, and I’m thrilled to be a part of a movie that has one at its core.”

“Beauty and the Beast” isn’t Condon’s first musical movie adaptation — he spearheaded the two-time Oscar-winning “Dreamgirls” in 2006. Nor is this his first brush with a devout fan base. He put the “Twilight” saga to bed in “Breaking Dawn” Parts 1 and 2. However, this is the first movie that combines massive fandom with an internationally adored songbook. The director is aware he’s playing with a powerful brand of nostalgia.

Full Coverage ‘Beauty and the Beast’ news, interviews, videos, reviews »

Still, Belle’s rebellious reading wasn’t the only part of Disney’s tale as old as time that was due for a little dusting. With a running time 45 minutes longer than the original, Condon hoped that his “Beauty and the Beast” expansion would answer questions fans may have been carrying with them for years. Some new investigations are arguably easier to answer than others, thanks to a little movie magic.

For example, how were the townsfolk seemingly unaware of the existence of a multistory, magical castle in the woods that (presumably) used to house their governing system? Simple: a magical memory wiping incantation directly tied to the Beast’s curse.

Granted, the larger questions Condon attempts to answer (how did Belle and her father wind up living in a village where they’re complete outsiders, and what happened to Belle’s mother?) are clearly more complicated and will forever change the back story to this Disney staple. But most pressing, according to the director, was expanding the relationship between Belle and the Beast (played by Dan Stevens).

“You’re asking an audience to believe that Emma Watson is falling in love with this big hunk of fur,” Condon says. “So you want to make it absolutely recognizable in human terms.”

That also meant addressing the Stockholm syndrome issues with the classic story’s prisoner/princess relationship. When questioned about the problematic nature of the duo’s courtship, the director immediately lists his leading lady as a champion for this change.

“That’s where having Emma Watson as a partner, as a collaborator, was so crucial,” Condon says. “Because she’ll always know more than I do about this, because she’s leading the life of a strong role model for women in the 21st century.”

In fact, both Stevens and Watson worked with Condon on their dialogue in hopes of refining and reshaping their complicated affair in an attempt to steer it away from victim and kidnapper.

“To me, the crucial line is when they finally connect, and [Beast] says, ‘Could you ever be happy here?’ [Belle] thinks about it and says, ‘Could anybody be happy when they’re not free?’ ”

“She’s not falling in love with him. She understands the terms of what he’s done, she reminds him of it, and he feels ashamed of it,” Condon says. “She very clearly sets up those boundaries. And it’s only when he actually does free her, and long after that, that she kind of lets herself open up to her feelings for him. That scene, which probably has only 10 lines, it’s sort of like haiku. We kept refining, word by word, to make sure that moment, that line, packed a real punch.”

Whether the evolution of Belle and the Beast will alleviate modern minds troubled by the questionable romance remains to be seen, but one thing that took most by surprise was the outing and subsequent backlash at the sexuality of the aforementioned LeFou. After it was announced that LeFou would be Disney’s first gay character, a Henagar, Ala., drive-in theater said it wouldn’t screen the film — specifically citing LeFou’s sexual orientation. Overseas, Disney has decided to pull its Malaysian distribution of the film rather than censor the few minutes of content the country’s film censorship board regarded as unsuitable.

Condon spoke vaguely about the reaction at a press conference in Beverly Hills last week, noting that this too is another expansion of a character for the modern age, “What has this story always been about for 300 years?” he asked. “It’s about looking closer, going deeper, accepting people for who they really are. And in a very Disney way, we are including everybody. I think this movie is for everybody, and on the screen you’ll see everybody. That was important to me, I think, to all of us.”

The backlash has already received plenty of backlash from the rest of the cast. Ian McKellen (who plays Cogsworth) labeled the controversy “rubbish” in an interview with CNN at the New York premiere. And Ewan McGregor (Lumière), at first joking that “there is a lot of gay sex in this cartoon” on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert,” turned serious when he told Colbert, “He’s a gay character. It’s 2017, for … sake.”

It’s only too perfect that one of the many themes in this timeless fairy tale that doesn’t need updating is the proverbial sentiment: “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Condon encourages his audience to look beyond Beast’s intimidating horns or the beautiful filigree of the castle’s magical inhabitants and take in the big picture.

Only then will you realize in the live action opening number that the only children marching into the school are the boys, while the girls are stuck doing the laundry.

More about “Beauty and the Beast” . . .

What happens when you put ‘Beauty and the Beast’ stars at a piano with composer Alan Menken? Disney magic

Review: ‘Beauty and the Beast’ remake is a gilded monument to the more-is-more principle

‘Beauty and the Beast’ won’t be shown in Malaysia after Disney refuses to cut gay scene

Why ‘Beauty and the Beast’ will be the biggest box-office hit of the year so far

From the archives: A ‘Beast’ With Heart — Kenneth Turan’s review of the 1991 animated ‘Beauty and the Beast’

‘Beauty and the Beast’s‘ Alan Menken takes pride in carrying the vision of his songwriting partner Howard Ashman

See the most-read stories in Entertainment this hour »

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