

As you can see, Doris is a reluctant hero. She didn’t believe that there were such terrible creatures in the world and that the bad things that the fairies talked about could actually occur. She doubts and doesn’t want to be the one to do something about it because that meant the small fairies living in her huge home would discover it was messier than most, and that her kitchen appliances and artwork were out of date.
Seemingly everywhere I go, I encounter ordinary people who’ve accomplished extraordinary things. Profiles in courage, towering love, and passion, these people’s transformational stories all have one thing in common––they lifted themselves out of their own pain by lifting up others. But before they could do that, they discovered and embraced the art of being themselves, […]
Doris’s innermost cave is how her hospitality will work to create peace for the bats and the fairies that have inhabited her home. There is a pause in the action here for the reader to feel the stakes. Will the bats be angry that the honey caused them to stay silent? How would the bats react to laughter of the fairies? Would the bats have a sense of humor? Would her “perfect” canary-inspired idea of baking honey cakes for the bats with the crunchy centers turn into a nightmare? Would Doris be more of an outcast than ever if the bats AND the fairies looked down on her silly ways and ideas? She thought she had it bad just being a duck-sized fairy, but now the stakes are higher.