Today is part one of two where we are talking to Kelsey Ortiz about her novels. Over the next 2 weeks you will hear about writing since 1st grade, taking 7 years to write your first book, finding a narrator quickly after publishing, hiring a cover artist, developing stories from random ideas, promoting your books, copyrighting your book to protect it, and her advice to new authors on setting goals for themselves.

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Kelsey Ortiz was born with a pen in her hand and grew up with a wild imagination that made everyone around her wonder if she lived in reality. The first story she ever wrote, around the age of five, was about a butterfly and a zebra who had to save their friends from the evil tornado that kept his captives locked in a cage. Kelsey currently lives in Idaho with her beloved husband and three dogs who are are her rally team. Nothing makes her more happy than chilly, stormy days, a fuzzy blanket, puppy snuggles, and a good book. Someday, in the near future, the five plan on moving to Germany where they can continue searching for proof of fae and the fantastical.

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Welcome to Freya's Fairy Tales, where we believe fairy tales are both stories we enjoyed as children and something that we can achieve ourselves.

Each week, we will talk to authors about their favorite fairy tales when they were kids and their adventure to holding their very own fairy tale in their hands.

At the end of each episode, we will finish off with a fairy tale or short story read as close to the original author's version as as possible.

I am your host.

Freya victoria I'm an audiobook narrator that loves reading fairy tales, novels and bringing stories to life through narration.

I'm also fascinated by talking to authors and learning about their why and how for creating their stories.

We've included all of the links for today's author and our show in the show notes.

Be sure to check out our website and sign up for our newsletter for the latest on the podcast.

Today is part one of two where we are talking to Kelsey Ortiz about her novels.

Over the next two weeks, you will hear about writing since first grade, taking seven years to write your first book, finding a narrator quickly after publishing hiring a cover artist, developing stories from random ideas, promoting your books, copywriting your book to protect it and her advice to new authors on setting goals for themselves.

Bringer's ascension death is only a release.

Pain is only numbness.

Loneliness is only the beginning.

Tormented by visions of the crushed and burned bodies of her guildmates, ray Lin, the only lightbringer, hasn't stopped running.

Accompanied only by a shadow who protects her from the Brotherhood's control, ray Lin fights against the fate she's been told about since childhood.

But when her guardian steps out of the shadows, the carefully built walls around her crumble into dust.

To rid the world of the corrupt Brotherhood, ray Lynn must trust herself and to not be afraid of who she was born to be.

Now she has two choices to make.

Will she succumb to the darkness in her soul?

Or will she give in to the temptation of falling in love again?

This show is Freya's Fairy Tales, and that is fairy tales in two ways.

Because fairy tales are something that we watched or read or listened to as kids.

And it's also the journey of you spending the weeks, months, years to write your book.

To hold that in your hands is.

Also a fairy tale for you as the author.

So I like to start off with what was your favorite fairy tale when you were a kid and did your favorite change as you got older?

That is a good question.

One that always comes to mind is Sembolina.

I loved, loved that movie.

Same.

It's just so good.

It's a classic.

But I think it has changed a little bit.

It depends on if we're watching something or reading something.

If it's reading, I love Peter Panry tellings.

Not necessarily the spicy ones, but Peter Pan retellings are so good.

But then watching something I always love.

The Little Mermaid.

And so at what age did you actually start writing your own stuff?

So I started writing when I was tiny.

I think it was like first grade or so that I wrote a whole little novelet, I guess, about a zebra who had to go save his butterfly friends with an evil tornado.

It was like a children's book size, I imagine.

Yeah, it was a few chapters long ago.

I think children's books are just children's books.

I don't know that they classify them like we do adult books.

Like my daughter, I mean, we have, like, the little one, the Ron doll ones.

We have those little ones.

But then we also have chapter books.

I just got her Series of Unfortunate Events and a couple of other series.

So those are chapter ones.

I mean, they're all considered children's books.

Just as they get older, the books get longer.

Right.

More in depth.

So you started writing in first grade.

Did you continue to write all through school or did you kind of, like, stop and take breaks or how did.

That work first and took break?

I think I really started picking up writing again about 8th grade.

Okay.

It's kind of funny.

I was in a choir class with two friends who also love to write.

Okay.

And as we were singing, we would be writing in our notebooks the entire time instead of watching the director.

And we'd be, like, exchanging notes and.

Writing little stories, and he's going, what are they doing?

Pretty much, I think that's probably when I started picking it up again.

And from then on, I just always have been writing.

Okay, now you just released.

I was trying to Amazon you.

You have one book out, right?

Yes.

Okay.

So how long did it when did you start?

Is that the first full one, like, full length, grown up book that you've written?

Or did you have one before that that you hit under your bed or whatever?

Yeah, there's one that's hidden under the bed.

I might get to eventually under a pending.

So how long did it take you to write the first full length one?

Beginning to the end before any edits?

Definitely.

I started this one that I've published in 2013.

Okay.

And I didn't finish it until 2020.

Okay.

So that one took me seven years to write the first draft.

Life getting in the way or just took a long time to figure it out?

A long time to figure it out.

I also didn't ever set myself a goal, which is a huge, important thing, but it was always the goal of finish it when I finish and I publish when I publish, which doesn't work.

So you've learned since then?

Yes, absolutely.

Book two is already done and almost.

About to get published because I saw you also have an audiobook, so you did that at the same time, or did you wait a little bit after publishing?

Pretty much at the same time?

So I published it, and then right before I published, I ended up hiring Nicole James for the audio narration, and then she started recording in September, like, a few weeks after I published it.

So it was pretty much all at the same time.

Okay, let's rewind a little bit.

So you take seven years to write a book, then, once you type I mean, that's not the longest that I've heard, so don't worry.

So what did you do once you typed the end or finished or whatever you put at the end of your book, what did you do after that?

What was the next step that you took before you published it?

Definitely, yes.

So the next step that I took, I took a huge break from it.

That was one of the first things I did.

Okay.

But I ended up finding someone to read it as just a friend, as a beta reader, which, you know, isn't necessarily suggested to have beta readers be friends, but I did, and it was okay.

She was fantastic.

She was the first person ever to read my book, and it was great.

That's pretty much what I did next.

So I think the frowned upon thing is sending it to a friend who's just like, oh, my gosh, this is so amazing.

If your friend gives you, like, constructive criticism, I think that's okay.

Yeah, that's kind of the job of a beta reader, is like, constructive criticism.

So is your friend the oh, my gosh, it's amazing, or actually helpful version?

A little bit of both.

Okay.

She definitely I feel like I mean, that draft was a garbage fire.

It was horrible.

She loved it, though.

She talked it up to other people, so I know she was definitely on that side of it.

It's amazing.

But she did add a few scenes that I ended up putting into the final draft that she suggested.

So she helped a lot with that.

Kind of like a, hey, a scene about this would be helpful.

Yeah.

Or this scene just wasn't enough.

You should do this with it instead.

She helped quite a bit with some of that, which I did.

So you had her look through it, and then what did you do next?

Next, then I went through and self edited as much as I could.

I actually, at the time, was planning on traditionally publishing.

Okay.

So I was looking into querying, looking into all of that, putting it off because I was so scared to start any of that, but I ended up just finding a few other random beta readers, one who I've been really good friends with now since I had a few more beta readers.

And then it just like, one day hit me that I needed to self publish instead.

So did you ever end up querying?

No.

Honestly, I'm, like, looking at my own stuff and I'm like, I think I'd be okay if a publisher came to me, but I don't want to go through all the time and effort of the query process.

Exactly.

I have a lot already going on that just sounds like too many things.

It's a lot kudos to people who do it, honestly.

Yeah.

So you decided to self publish.

Where did you get, like, your you had beta readers go through it.

Did you have an editor also go through it, or do you use them kind of as your editors?

A little bit of both.

So one of the beta readers, I actually ended up hiring as a developmental editor.

Okay.

This was her first book to ever do it, so she's brand new to the field, but she did a really good job.

And then after I had her few more beta readers, she went back through it again.

She probably went through that book seven or eight times.

I felt so bad for her.

So the only people that know it better than you are her and your narrator.

Absolutely.

I go to her for questions in book two.

I'm like, okay, now this character in book one, did they do this?

And she's like, no, Kelsey.

She pulls out her notes and she's like, okay, this is what.

Hey, that is helpful.

It is.

So you did that.

How did you do your cover?

Google Facebook.

I joined so many cover Facebook groups, and I'm still in all of them.

But there was one cover artist who I saw this most beautiful, vibrant, like a butterfly garden fantasy scene.

Okay.

And though that cover never would fit my dark contemporary genre, I was obsessed with that cover and I wanted to buy it outright.

And so I ended up hiring that artist.

And yeah, that's kind of just how I ended up finding her, is because that cover just spoke to me even though I never got it.

Another author bought it for from.

Have they published their book, do you know?

Yes.

I believe that first one is now published.

Okay.

Yes.

I just feel like there's some things, like, I'll audition for an audiobook and then I'll get noticed, like, someone else got it.

And then I'll come across it'll be one of my narrator friends on TikTok.

And I'm like, hey, no wonder I lost out, because they're amazing.

It's like it's part of the job.

So you find the perfect cover artist and have your cover made.

Since you decided not to query, I'm guessing you kind of figured out, was it more Facebook groups that helped you actually get it published?

Like up in all the locations to sell.

How did you go about that process?

Yeah, so it was actually a Facebook group, specifically a messenger group that I ended up joining.

Okay.

That I come insanely close with all the authors.

I think there's only like twelve or 13 of us in this messenger group.

Okay.

But I joined last June ish thereabout, and we talk every day.

They talk every day.

I chime in once or twice a week.

I feel like that's how I am with Discords.

It's like, I'll chime in when I think about, like, oh, you haven't been on Discord in a while.

They're the ones that really scared me.

Okay.

I'm guessing you have people of varying publishing status in that group.

Yes.

Where do the ideas for your stories come from?

So, for this one, it started with just a simple idea of a girl being tossed around like a chess piece and being thrown into a game.

Now, that has changed much, so it's quite different from that original idea, but that's where it came from, honestly, is I just wanted to write a story about a protagonist who was being used as a pawn.

And even though that is still an underlying theme throughout the whole series, it's quite different now.

So how did that idea come to you?

I think I was reading a book, and I'm not 100% certain what I was reading, but they were playing chess, and they were just talking about, like, the strategy behind chess, and it was some fantasy novel.

I know that.

And it just, like, struck a chord with me.

I was like, oh, I just want to write about a girl who's a pawn.

Simple idea.

So you said you already have book two written.

Once you published book one, what did you do afterwards?

How did you find Nicole to do the audiobook?

What did you kind of do once you would hit publish on it?

Yeah, so published it.

I mean, once you publish it, it's out.

It's just scary.

But I found Nicole through TikTok.

I went through, looked up voice narrators.

I never came across you.

I only went down, like, four or five.

But as soon as I heard Nicole's voice, I just emailed her and said, all right, can you be my narrator?

It's one of those, like so I got into narrating in August of 2021.

I'm scrolling through, and I joined TikTok late because I think I didn't join TikTok until, like, July of 21.

Like, it was it took me forever to join.

So I was scrolling through and came across, like, a clickbait.

Those job ones were make some ridiculous amount of money doing this job that, you know, people with brains that think logically know that's not actually it might list that as an amount you could make on there, but, you know, like, normal people don't make $1,000 an hour narrating audiobooks or everybody would be doing it.

So I'm like, let's search some actual narrators and find actual people that do the job.

And found Natalie nadis.

And there's on TikTok.

His name is Tom voiceover and they actually had at the time, they had both just done a here's how to get started series of videos.

Oh, awesome.

Within a month, I had my little closet here set up.

Not the same microphone set up.

I started on the cheap because it was like, well, if no one ever hires me, I don't want to spend.

A ton of money.

So I have not had a break since I started.

Beyond the vacations I scheduled for myself, I have not had a break.

So I'm like, we're doing good.

But, yeah, it was the same.

I searched narrators and I came across, like, a few, and I was still relatively early into the narrators being on TikTok things, so there weren't a lot on there at the time.

And it's crazy because now I consider myself, like, small time narrators, and there's these big time narrators like Andy aren't, who's on audible, like, hall of fame for narrators.

She joined TikTok and followed me almost immediately, and I'm like, oh, my god, someone big.

But then also, I'm always slightly like, man, I hope they don't comment on my video.

Like, why are you doing that?

It's the same with writing.

Like, you just hope that you don't get someone critiquing your process or whatever.

I'm just going to stay in my corner.

You can stay over in your corner.

Like, it's okay.

What works is what works.

So you were scrolling through TikTok specifically looking for narrators to narrate your book?

Yeah, I had no clue about find a way voices where you can audition acx.

I had no idea you could actually go through post something and a bunch of narrators would audition for you.

So I just found one place that I liked on TikTok.

Luckily, she was already a narrator.

I had, like, one person reach out to me, and they're like, I gave it very much obvious that I am in the industry thing.

And they're like, oh, you're a narrator.

I'm like, how did you find me?

Oh, you commented on my post in a narrator's facebook group.

I'm like.

Okay.

The logic was not working well that day, apparently.

But if you found me in a narrator's group, why did you not figure out that?

Like, I don't I don't know.

Do not equate apparently.

Apparently they did not.

It was also, like, 1030 at night at this time, so I'm like, I'm tired.

Maybe you're tired, too.

I don't know.

So you find her, you get her to agree to do your book.

That would have been around the time that we were all doing the fem takeovers and stuff.

Yeah, because, like, November no, it started in July.

I think there was one in November.

I've missed a bunch of them because of life.

My mother in law was in town, my very Christian mother in law.

And I'm like, if I get a bunch of spicy books, I'm having to narrate these scenes for that is not going to work.

That can work.

I think at the time, though, I was narrating an erotica in my closet while she's staying with us.

So I'm like, Oops, that's awesome.

Just don't ask questions.

She knows I narrate.

My entire family knows that I narrate.

I do not narrate under my legal name.

This is not under my legal name.

I'm like, we will separate things so that they never know.

Exactly.

Same with books.

Same with books.

I separate those out.

So you had the developmental editor come in, you wrote the first book, you hit publish, you had the audiobook done.

How long did it take you to write book to four months.

Well, that's much shorter.

Get your process down.

Absolutely.

And did you have the same developmental editor or have you gone through any of that process yet?

No, not yet.

I am changing things up, just trying to figure out different ways to go about it.

And I'm going to try this time doing a lot more beta readers.

Okay.

And see if that works.

Okay.

I think I'm going to try the same thing.

Yeah, that's kind of my thinking, too.

I'm not opposed to hiring an editor, and I've actually found one that I love her videos and like her thought process for things.

So I'm like if I use one, that's who I want to use.

But I'm also like money.

Exactly.

The good thing is my narrator is free.

I mean, I just have to pay myself in food and time.

So your time is not free, but you are free.

Yes.

Yes.

So I'm going to try to do like you did where they release it around the same time, but that also depends on, like, my other audiobook schedule.

But also it's taking me forever to write the book because of everything else.

So I'm like, hopefully I wanted to publish last year, but time wise, that was an unrealistic goal.

So I'm like, maybe this year we'll see.

I've made myself right every day so far this year.

Not for long.

I can commit to ten minutes a day.

We're going to commit to that.

That's good.

And build on it.

Exactly.

You've got to commit to at least one goal, and then you'll be good.

So what is your, like, writing process look like?

You just kind of I don't know.

What is your writing process look like?

You had the idea.

I guess let's start with book two, because you would have had the process down a little bit at that point.

Yeah.

Frying process.

I don't know if I really have one per se.

I sit down when I feel like I want to write, and I have a word goal count that I wrote.

Word count goal that I want to meet.

So is that an every day?

Once a week?

Yeah, every day for book two.

Basically every day you burn out really quickly.

Yeah, there was a few times coming.

Exactly.

There was a couple of times.

I took a two or three day break pretty much every day I just tried to write 2500 words and then it worked.

You got the next one done much, much faster.

We're about to go into the editing process.

And so this one when are you planning to?

Do you have a goal or some kind of a goal set for having the second one done?

Yeah, sorry, my song scratching at the door.

Let me let him in.

I wonder what that was.

It's a weird sound.

He wants in.

All right.

But, yeah, I'm hoping to have that published by the end of May.

Okay, so about, what, eight months between books?

Yeah, they're about okay.

And you already have Nicole on standby?

Yes.

She knows she's hired for book two.

I don't know if I'll be able to get it out as quickly, though, this time.

Okay.

Well, she's been pretty steadily busy, it seems.

So busy.

Back to back.

I love watching the voiceover and the narrators and all that.

Like, their videos of them doing it.

Even the authors.

Like, I come across authors doing lives with, like, them just, like, basically group writing with all their author friends.

So what are you doing to promote your book at this time?

Mostly pick tok.

Right.

Just because book talk is fabulous.

But I've been going through the last two weeks a five day author like Amazon Ads challenge.

Okay.

So I'm really learning a lot in depth about Amazon ads.

Surprising by how complex they actually are.

So that's basically it.

TikTok and Amazon ads.

So your book is exclusively on Amazon, right?

As of right now, yes.

Okay.

Mine's the audiobook, of course.

So I've done not book advertising yet, obviously, but I've done, like, podcast advertising.

And I feel like Facebook ads used to be the go to, but now there's so many getting hits on.

Usually people would comment on my podcast videos and it would be, like, rude people all the time.

I'm like, really?

Like, Gosh, you sound so robotic, or, Gosh, basically they just don't like my style of narrating.

And I'm like, well, go somewhere else.

You don't have to leave a rude comment.

Oh, my goodness.

Now, for some have you read through your reviews?

Yeah, I don't have very many, so yes.

And are you one that takes them constructively or gets a little offended?

It depends.

It depends.

The type of review.

The lowest I've gone is three stars, which isn't bad.

That's pretty good.

Yeah.

So far I'm only at 22 reviews.

You so, I mean, it's really not bad.

But one review, one thing that I don't take too well is when someone says my writing just outright sucks.

This is like my new career.

Right.

That goes a little bit critiquing the story, critiquing the characters critiquing, anything like that.

I'm totally fine with the book wasn't for them.

That's totally fine.

Yeah.

But one of the reviews did say she was like I just did not like the writing style at all.

It just was horrible.

And I was like.

That'S also pretty.

Depending on if they only like thriller books or if they only like nonfiction books and they stumble into a fantasy.

Yeah, that's going to be not a good style for them.

I've had a couple of audiobooks where I got like it would be like one literally the day it came out, it got returned.

Like, someone bought it and returned it and left one star.

But the book itself I'm like, plus it was early just learning how to narrate fiction days for me.

And so it was like some of my early stuff.

Now when I get bad reviews, I'm like, yeah, about I started narrating fiction in February of last year.

I have a daily fiction podcast as well.

So I was doing fiction for that starting in October of 21.

But then I didn't really start learning how to narrow it.

I would do it, but it was like dipping your toe in and kind of like getting comfortable with the reading.

So I started actually putting audiobooks onto Audible in February of last year.

And so some of my early stuff, I would say the summer is about when I finally hit my like, okay, now you're an actual narrator.

Yeah.

And so, like, anything prior to now, there's one book that I did and it was like my second or third book.

And that one I did a really good job on.

And the other ones I'm like, why were they so weird compared to that one?

But I mean, it is what it is.

I'm not going to go back and rerecord everybody's book for a year.

Oh my gosh, that would be horrible.

I listened back to some of the early stuff, though, and I'm just like, when I get a bad review on it, I'm like, fair, I didn't know what I was doing.

Nowadays, I'm like, man, I did an awesome job.

Why didn't you like it?

But the reviews now are less mean.

They're more like, this narrator.

It's ones that it's just I'm not their style and that's okay.

Or I'll do a duet, like a dual POV by myself.

And they don't like that.

I wasn't a male for the male chapters.

Like, well, you know what, author paid me on royalty share and you can't split that three ways.

Anyways, some of them I just laugh at, and I've gotten like some on the podcast and stuff that I just laugh at.

Some of them and my husband will be cracking up because I'm just like, really?

I had one.

I think it was for this no, it was the fiction podcast.

So I was doing The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, which is by El Frank Baum.

And it's a super cool story.

He's the guy that wrote wizard of Oz.

And so it's like a story about it starts with Santa as a baby and these fairies and elves have to take care of him.

And it's like his life growing up to being old and then making him immortal.

And there's one part where he's describing how he makes the reindeer harnesses and I'm describing how to make a reindeer harness.

So you're not going to get this nice fantasy flowing prose with it.

It's leather harness, for God's sake.

And they're like, she sounds like a news reporter.

It's awful.

And I'm like, you try to describe a reindeer harness and make it sound entertaining for days afterwards.

I'd be like a reindeer harness, and my husband would just start laughing.

Sometimes I feel like you have to laugh at it because at the end of the day, you don't know if they were just having a bad day, if you just weren't there.

It's so terrible being in like an artist space where it's like, you're not going to be everyone's favorite.

Right, exactly.

It's going to happen.

So you're trying not to take them to heart.

Yeah, I'm trying my best.

And honestly, most of the reviews have really nice critiques and then that I'm grateful for.

But I just sent out 46 audiobook copies to people to technically arc read and I'll start getting those reviews in soon.

It's not arc if it's already come out, is it?

Technically, yeah.

I don't know what to call it, though.

Free copies to get it.

I don't know.

I can't get people to take them, so I haven't figured out what to call them yet.

I'm like, I will give them for free and no one ever bites.

So I'm like, yeah, whatever.

I'll keep them until one day when I'm big and famous and everybody wants my freaking audiobooks.

Yeah, the audiobook codes, I've had some people say like, oh, I got it.

The publisher must have given them a code.

And so say reviewing this, which with those ones, depending on how they got it because there's actually like I think there's this for books, too, but there's platforms for audiobooks where you pay, I don't know, a certain amount for each title.

And you can put your codes on there.

So you're getting like random people that just get free codes.

I feel like you're more likely to get people that don't like your genre that are listening to it, where you're like, well, yeah, I'm going to get a bad review.

If they only ever listen to mystery books or whatever, or you'll go look at their other reviews and they only ever review two stars, maybe they just don't like anybody.

Can you do that for Amazon reviews?

Can you look at the book reviews and see what other ones they've reviewed?

Because you can on Audible just by clicking their name.

I actually don't know.

I mean, same thing with Goodreads.

You can click their name and see all their reviews.

But I don't know about Amazon.

Okay.

Yeah, I've never tried I've done it through Audible.

I've never tried through Amazon.

Yeah.

I always kind of figure with like and I would like to say I'm going to take the same approach with writing.

But my thing is if people are reviewing and it's like a consistent, like, oh my gosh, this person does this and that needs to be fixed thing.

You get coaching to get that thing fixed, but the reviews are always like, oh my gosh, I hate this person.

And then the next review will be like, oh my gosh, I love this person.

Exactly.

But like, with writing so narrating, you're looking for like, they're boring or I'm awful at accents, so I don't try.

So one of my bad reviews is they were like, I wish you would have done the accents.

And I'm like, no you don't.

They would have been awful and you would not have liked that either.

Things to work on this year.

So for books, I would like to say I would take the same approach.

Like, look for a consistent one person saying, I don't like her writing style.

That's one person's opinion.

Everybody saying, this is a terrible written.

Book, then that might be something to consider.

That's when you take it down and you send it to another editor to look it over or more beta readers or whatever.

Kelsey liked Thumbbolina growing up thumbbolina is a literary novel bedtime story fairy tale written by the famous Danish author Hans Christian Anderson, first published by CA Reichel on 16 December 1835 in Copenhagen, Denmark, with the naughty boy and the traveling companion.

In the second installment of Fairy Tales told for children, thumbbolina is about a tiny girl and her adventures with marriage minded toads, moles and c*** chaffers.

She successfully avoids her intentions before falling in love with the flower fairy prints just her size.

Thumbbolina is chiefly Anderson's invention, though he did take inspiration from tales of miniature people such as Tom Thumb.

Thumbbolina was published as one of a series of seven fairy tales in 135 which were not well received by the Danish critics, who disliked their informal style and their lack of morals.

One critic, however applauded thumbbolina.

The earliest English translation of Thumbbolina is dated 1846.

The tale has been adapted to various media, including television, drama and animated film.

Today we'll be reading Thumbbolina by Hans Christian Anderson.

Don't forget we're reading Lemore today.

Arthur the story of King Arthur and of his noble knights of the Round table on our patreon.

You can find the link in the show notes.

Little Thumb lena there was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child.

She went to a fairy and said, I should so very much like to have a little child.

Can you tell me where I can find one?

Oh, that can be easily managed, said the fairy.

Here is a barley corn.

It is not exactly of the same sort as those which grow in the farmer's fields and which the chickens eat.

Put it into a flower pot and see what will happen.

Thank you, said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve shillings, which was the price of the barley corn.

Then she went home and planted it, and there grew up a large, handsome flower, somewhat like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves tightly closed as if it were still a bud.

It is a beautiful flower, said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden colored petals, and as she did so, the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip.

But within the flower, upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden.

She was scarcely half as long as the Thumb, and they gave her the name of little Thumb, or Thumbbolina, because she was so small.

A walnut shell, elegantly polished, served her for a cradle.

Her bed was formed of blue violet leaves with a rose leaf for a counterpane.

Here she slept at night, but during the day she amused herself on a table where the peasant wife had placed a plate full of water.

Round this place were wreaths of flowers with their stems in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip leaf which served the little one for a boat.

Here she sat and rode herself from side to side with two oars made of white horse hair.

It was a very pretty sight.

Thumbbolina could also sing so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard.

One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad crept through a broken pane of glass in the window, and leapt right upon the table where she lay sleeping under her rose leaf quilt.

What a pretty little life this would.

Make for my son, said the toad, and she took up the walnut shell in which Thumbbolina lay asleep, and jumped through the window with it into the garden and the swampy margin of a broad stream.

In the garden lived the toad with her son.

He was uglier even than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed, he could only cry, Groke, Groke, Groke.

Don't speak so loud or she will wake, said the toad, and then she might run away, for she is as light as a swans down.

We will playthrough on one of the water lily leaves out in the stream.

It will be like an island to her.

She is so light and small, and then she cannot escape.

And while she's there we will make haste and prepare the stateroom under the marsh in which you are to live when you are married.

Far out in the stream grew a number of water lilies with broad green leaves which seemed to float on the top of the water.

The largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest, and the old toad swam out to it with the walnut shell in which Thumbbolina still lay asleep.

The tiny creature woke very early in the morning and began to cry bitterly when she found where she was, for she could see nothing but water on every side of the large green leaf and no way of reaching the land.

Meanwhile, the old toad was very busy under the marsh decking, her room with rushes and yellow wildflowers to make it look pretty for her new daughter in law.

Then she swam out with her ugly son to the leaf on which she had placed porthambolina.

She wanted to bring the pretty bed that she might put it in the bridal chamber to be ready for her.

The old toad bowed low to her in the water and said, here is my son.

He will be your husband, and you will live happily together in the marsh by the stream.

Croak croak, Groke, was all her son could say for himself.

So the toad took up the elegant little bed and swam away with it, leaving Thumbbolina all alone on the green leaf where she sat and wept.

She could not bear to think of living with the old toad and having her ugly son for a husband.

The little fishes who swam about in the water beneath had seen the toad and heard what she said.

So now they lifted their heads above the water to look at the little maiden.

As soon as they caught sight of her, they saw she was very pretty, and it vexed them to think that she must go and live with the ugly toads.

No, it must never be so.

They gathered together in the water round the green stalk which held the leaf on which the little maiden stood, and nodded away at the root with their teeth.

Then the leaf floated down the stream, carrying Thumbalina far away, out of reach of land.

The Molina sailed past many towns, and the little birds in the bushes saw her and sang, what a lovely little creature.

So the leaf swam away with her farther and farther, till it brought her to other lands.

A graceful little white butterfly constantly fluttered round her, and at last alighted on the leaf.

The little maiden pleased him, and she was glad of it, for now the toad could not possibly reach her, and the country through which she sailed was beautiful, and the sun shone upon the water till it glittered like liquid gold.

She took off her girdle and tied one end of it round.

The butterfly fastening the other end of the ribbon to the leaf, which now glided on much faster than before, taking Thumbbolina with it as she stood.

Presently a large cockshafer flew by the moment he caught sight of her, he seized her round her delicate waist with his claws and flew with her into a tree.

A green leaf floated away on the brook, and the butterfly flew with it, for he was fastened to it and could not get away.

Oh, how frightened Thumbna felt when the cockchaffer flew with her to the tree.

But especially was she sorry for the beautiful white butterfly which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could not free himself, he would die of hunger.

But the cocktails did not trouble himself at all about the matter.

He seated himself by her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat, and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least like a c*** chaffer.

After a time, all the c*** chaffers who lived in the tree came to pay Thumbbolina a visit.

I stared at her, and then the young lady c*** chaffers took up their feelers and said, she has only two legs.

How ugly that looks.

She has no feelers, said another.

Her waist is quite slim, poo.

She is like a human being.

Oh, she is ugly, said all the lady c*** chaffers.

The cockchaffer who had run away with her believed all the others when they said she was ugly.

He would have nothing more to say to her and told her she might go where she liked.

Then he flew down with her from the tree and placed her on a daisy, and she wept at the thought that she was so ugly that even the cocktails would have nothing to say to her.

And all the while she was really the loveliest creature that one could imagine, and as tender and delicate as a beautiful rose leaf.

During the whole summer poor little Sambalina lived quite alone in the wide forest.

She wove herself a bed with blades of grass and hung it up under a broad leaf to protect herself from the rain.

She sucked the honey from the flowers for food and drank the dew from their leaves every morning so passed away the summer and the autumn.

And then came the winter, the long, cold winter.

All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly had flown away, and the trees and the flowers had withered.

The large shamrock under the shelter of which she had lived was now rolled together and shriveled up.

Nothing remained but a yellow withered stalk.

She felt dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn, and she was herself so frail and delicate that she was nearly frozen to death.

It began to snow too, and the snowflakes, as they fell upon her, were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us, for we are tall, but she was only an inch high.

She wrapped herself in a dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle and could not keep her warm, and she shivered with cold near the wood in which she had been living with a large cornfield.

But the corn had been cut a long time.

Nothing remained but the bare, dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground.

It was to her like struggling through a large wood.

Oh, how she shivered with the cold.

She came at last to the door of a field mouse, who had a little din under the corn stubble.

There dwelt the field mouse in warmth and comfort with a whole room full of corn, a kitchen and a beautiful dining room.

Horsembalina stood before the door, just like a little beggar girl, and asked for a small piece of barley corn, for she'd been without a morsel to eat for two days.

You poor little creature.

Said the field mouse, for she was really a good old mouse.

Come into my warm room and dine with me.

She was pleased with Thumbalina, so she.

Said, you are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter if you like, but you must keep my rooms clean and neat and tell me stories, for I shall like to hear them very much.

And Thumblina did all that the field mouse asked her and found herself very comfortable.

We shall have a visitor soon, said.

The field mouse one day.

My neighbor pays me a visit once a week.

He's better off than I am.

He has large rooms and wears a beautiful black velvet coat.

If you could only have him for a husband, you would be well provided for.

Indeed.

But he is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest stories.

The Molina did not feel at all interested about this neighbor, for he was a mole.

However, he came and paid his visit dressed in his black velvet coat.

He is very rich and learned, and his house is 20 times larger than.

Mine, said the field mouse.

He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he always spoke slidingly of the sun and the pretty flowers because he had never seen them.

Thumbbolina was obliged to sing him lady Bird, Lady Bird, Fly Away Home and many other pretty songs.

And the Mole fell in love with her because she had so sweet a voice.

But he said nothing yet, for he was very prudent and cautious.

A short time before, the mole had dug a long passage under the earth which led from the dwelling of the field mouse to his own.

And here she had permission to walk with Thumblina whenever she liked.

But he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which lay in the passage.

It was a perfect bird with a beak and feathers and could not have been dead long.

It was lying just where the mole had made his passage.

The Mole took in his mouth a piece of phosphorescent wood which glittered like fire in the dark.

Then he went before them to light them through the long, dark passage.

When they came to the spot where the dead bird lay, the Mole pushed his broad nose through the ceiling so that the earth gave way and the daylight shone into the passage.

In the middle of the floor lay a swallow, his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides, his feet and head drawn up under his feathers.

The poor bird had evidently died of the cold.

It made little Fumblina very sad to see it.

She did so love the little birds all the summer they had sung and twittered for her so beautifully.

But the mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs and said he will sing no more now.

How miserable it must be to be born a little bird.

I'm thankful that none of my children will ever be birds, for they can do nothing but cry, tweet, tweet, and must always die of hunger in the winter.

Yes, you may well say that as a clever man.

Exclaimed the field mouse.

What is the use of his twittering if when winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death?

Still, birds are very high bred.

Dumbbellina, said nothing, but when the two others had turned their backs upon the bird, she stooped down and stroked aside the soft feathers which covered his head and kissed the closed eyelids.

Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer, she said, and how much pleasure it gave me.

You dear pretty bird.

The mole now stopped up the hole through which the daylight shone, and then accompanied the lady's home.

But during the night Thumbbolina could not sleep, so she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet of hay.

She carried it to the dead bird and spread it over him with some down from the flowers which she had found in the field mouse's room.

It was as soft as wool, and she spread some of it on each side of the bird, so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth.

Farewell, pretty little bird, said she.

Farewell.

Thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all the trees were green and the warm sun shone upon us.

And she laid her head on the bird's breast.

But she was alarmed, for it seemed as if something inside the bird went thump thump.

It was the bird's heart.

He was not really dead, only been numbered with the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life.

In autumn all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens to linger, the cold ceases it, and it becomes chilled and falls down as if dead.

It remains where it fell, and the cold snow covers it.

Thumbalina trembled very much.

She was quite frightened, for the bird was large, a great deal larger than herself.

She was only an inch high.

But she took courage, laid the wool more thickly over the poor swallow, and.

Then took a leaf which she had.

Used for her own counterpane, and laid it over his head.

The next night she again stole out to see him.

He was alive, but very weak.

He could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Thumbalina, who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand, for she had no other lantern.

Thank you, pretty little maiden, said the six swallow.

I've been so nicely warmed that I shall soon regain my strength and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine.

Oh, said she, it is cold out of doors now.

It snows and freezes.

Stay in your warm bed.

I will take care of you.

She brought the swallowsome water in a flower leaf, and after he had drunk, he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn bush and could not fly as fast as the others, who were soon far away on their journey to warm countries.

At last he had fallen to the earth and could remember nothing more, nor how he came to be where she found him.

All the winter the Swallow remained underground, and Thumblina nursed him with care and love.

She did not tell either the Mole or the Field mouse anything about it, for they did not like swallows.

Very soon the springtime came and the sun warmed the earth.

Then the Swallow bade farewell to Thumbalina, and she opened the hole in the ceiling which the Mole had made.

The sun shonen upon them so beautifully that the Swallow asked her if she would go with him.

She could sit on his back, he said, and he would fly away with her into the green woods.

But she knew it would grieve the field mouse if she left her in that manner.

So she said, no, I cannot.

Farewell, then.

Farewell, you good, pretty little maiden, said the swallow, and he flew out into the sunshine.

Zumbolina looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes.

She was very fond of the poor swallow.

Tweet, tweet, sang the bird as he flew out into the green woods, and Thumbbolina felt very sad.

She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine.

The corn, which had been sowed in the field over the house of the Field Mouse, had grown up high into the air and formed a thick wood to Thumbbolina, who was only an inch in height.

You are going to be married, little.

One, said the Field mouse.

My neighbor has asked for you.

What good fortune for a poor child like you.

Now we will prepare your wedding clothes.

They must be woolen and linen.

Nothing must be wanting when you are.

The wife of the Mole.

Dumbbelina had to turn the spindle, and the Field Mouse hired four spiders who were to weave day and night.

Every evening the Mole visited her and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over.

Then he would keep his wedding day with Thumbalina.

But now the heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth and made it hard like stone.

As soon as the summer was over, the wedding should take place.

But Thumbbolina was not at all pleased, for she did not like the tiresome Mole.

Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it went down, she would creep out at the door.

And as the wind blew aside the ears of corn so that she could see the blue sky, she thought how beautiful and bright it seemed out there, and wished so much to see her dear friend the Swallow again.

But he never returned, for by this time he had flown far away into the lovely green forest.

When autumn arrived, Thumbbolina had her outfit quite ready, and the field mouse said.

To her, in four weeks the wedding must take place.

Then she wept and said she would not marry the disagreeable Mole.

Nonsense, replied the Field Mouse.

Now don't be obstinate, or I shall bite you with my white teeth.

He's a very handsome mole.

The Queen herself does not wear more beautiful velvets and furs.

His kitchens and sellers are quite full.

You ought to be very thankful for such good fortune.

So the wedding day was fixed on which the Mole was to take her away to live with him deep under the earth, and never again to see the warm sun because he did not like it.

The poor child was very unhappy at the thought of saying farewell to the beautiful sun.

And as the field mouse had given her permission to stand at the door, she went to look at it once more.

Farewell, bright sun.

She cried, stretching out her arms towards it.

Then she walked a short distance from the house, for the corn had been cut and only the dry stubble remained in the fields.

Farewell, farewell.

She repeated, twining her arm around a little red flower that grew just by her side.

Greet the little Swallow from me if you should see him again.

Tweet tweet sounded over her head suddenly she looked up, and there was the Swallow himself, flying close by as soon as he spied dumbbelina.

He was delighted.

She told him how unwilling she was to marry the ugly Mole and to live always beneath the earth, never more to see the bright sun.

And as she told him, she wept.

Cold winter is coming, said the Swallow, and I'm going to fly away into warmer countries.

Will you go with me?

You can sit on my back and fasten yourself on with your sash.

Then we can fly away from the ugly Mole in his gloomy rooms, far away over the mountains, into warmer countries, where the sun shines more brightly than here, where it is always summer and the flowers bloom in greater beauty.

Fly now with me, dear little one.

You saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark, dreary passage.

Yes, I will go with you, said Thumbbolina.

And she seated herself on the bird's back with her feet on his outstretched wings and tied her girdle to one of his strongest feathers the swallow rose in the air and flew over the forest and oversea high above the highest mountains covered with eternal snow.

Then Molina would have been frozen in the cold air.

But she crept under the bird's warm feathers, keeping her little head uncovered so that she might admire the beautiful lands over which they passed.

At length they reached the warm countries where the sun shines brightly and the sky seems so much higher above the earth.

Here on the hedges and by the wayside grew purple, green and white.

Grapes, lemons and oranges hung from trees in the fields, and the air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms.

Beautiful children ran along the country lanes playing with large gay butterflies, and as the swallow flew farther and farther, every place appeared still more lovely.

At last they came to a blue lake, and by the side of it, shaded by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace of dazzling white marble built in the olden times.

Vines clustered round its lofty pillars, and at the top were many swallows nests.

And one of these was the home of the swallow, who carried dumbbelina.

This is my house, said the swallow, but it would not do for you to live there.

You would not be comfortable.

You must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers, and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you can wish to make you happy.

That will be delightful, she said, and clapped her little hands for joy.

A large marble pillar lay on the ground, which in falling had broken into three pieces.

Between these pieces grew the most beautiful large white flowers.

So the swallow flew down with Thumbalina and placed her on one of the broad leaves.

But how surprised she was to see in the middle of the flower a tiny little man, as white and transparent as if he had been made of crystal.

He had a gold crown on his head and delicate wings at his shoulders, and was not much larger than was she herself.

He was the angel of the flower, for a tiny man and a tiny woman dwell in every flower.

And this was the king of them all.

Oh, how beautiful he is.

Whispered thumbbolina to the swallow.

The little prince was at first quite frightened at the bird, who was like a giant compared to such a delicate little creature as himself.

But when he saw Thumbbolina he was delighted and thought her the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen.

He took the gold crown from his head and placed it on hers and asked her name and if she would be his wife and queen over all the flowers.

This certainly was a very different sort of husband from the son of the toad or the mole, with his black velvet and fur.

So she said yes to the handsome prince.

Then all the flowers opened, and out of each came a little lady or a tiny lord, all so pretty it was quite a pleasure to look at them.

Each of them brought Thumbbolina a present.

But the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings which had belonged to a large white fly, and they fastened them to Thumbbolina's shoulders so that she might fly from flower to flower.

Then there was much rejoicing, and the little swallow who sat above them in his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he did as well as he could.

But in his heart he felt sad, for he was very fond of Thumbbolina and would have liked never to part from her again.

You must not be called Thumbbolina anymore, said the spirit of the flowers to her.

It is an ugly name, and you are so very lovely.

We will call you Maya.

Farewell, farewell, said the swallow with a heavy heart as he left the warm countries to fly back into Denmark.

There he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer of fairy tales, the swallow, sang tweet tweet and from his song came the whole story.

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