The Unwritten, Vol. 1: Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity

We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves.

You read any Greek myths, puppy? The one about the gorgon Medusa, particularly? I used to wonder what could be so terrible that you couldn't survive even looking at it. Until I got a little older and I figured out the obvious answer. Everything.

It does no good to run. And it does no good to hide. But I know what it's like. Your brain shuts down, and you follow your instincts. Or, at least, you think you do. But you know what you're really doing? When you flee through the night, or crawl into your little bolt-hole? You know what's really guiding you? Controlling you? Pushing you on? Genre conventions.

I learn about how stories work for the same reason that soldiers learn how to strip a rifle. You should, too.

Fear is a serviceable tool, I suppose. Like the stalls in a battery farm. If you want to keep people from their collective strength, make them too afraid of each other to ever meet or talk.