Stories, Monsters, and a Lantern in the Dark

When I was little, my biggest fear lived under my bed.
It had twelve eyes, three crooked teeth, and smelled like wet socks.
At least, that’s how I imagined it.
At night, I would tiptoe across my room, avoiding the cracks in the floor, clutching a book in my hands like a shield.
The book didn’t banish the fear — not exactly.
It just made it... smaller. Knowable.
Almost friendly.

Why Children Need Monsters (And Stories About Them)
Fear is part of being human — and being small in a big world can be terrifying.
Children know this better than anyone.
That’s why stories have always been filled with shadows: not to frighten, but to teach.
Maurice Sendak knew it when he sent Max to dance with the Wild Things.
He wasn't just telling a story about monsters — he was showing children how anger, fear, and loneliness could wear a silly crown and become manageable.
In The Dark by Lemony Snicket and Jon Klassen, darkness itself speaks — not with a growl, but with a soft voice.
The story doesn't defeat the dark.
It invites the child to understand it.

And in Brave Irene by William Steig, there’s no monster at all — just a blizzard so fierce it seems alive.
Irene’s courage isn’t loud.
It’s stubborn, loving, full of heart.

Stories as Lanterns
Each of these books holds out a small lantern to young readers:
"Look," they say. "There’s more than fear here. There’s friendship. Strength. Home."
Illustrations flicker and glow in the pages — a monster’s mischievous grin, a snowy world too beautiful to be truly cruel.
Art gives shape to the invisible: the trembling lip, the wide-eyed wonder, the moment a child squares their tiny shoulders against the storm.
Stories teach children — and remind adults — that fear is not a wall.
It’s a door.
And sometimes, behind the door, there’s a wild rumpus waiting to be danced.
​

Not Just for Children
The truth is, we never outgrow the need for stories about fear and courage.
We just hide our monsters better.
Maybe they move from under the bed to the back of our minds.
Maybe they change their shapes: a blank page, a new beginning, a leap of faith.
But stories still offer us the same quiet, stubborn magic they offered us at five years old:
You are not alone. You can face this. You are braver than you believe.


A Final Light
Next time you read a story about a monster, a storm, or the dark itself — whether to a child or to your own heart — remember:
It’s not the fear that matters most.
It’s the light you carry through it.
✨

If you love stories that speak to the brave (and scared) parts of us all, stay tuned — this blog is just getting started. 📚🌟