Last week, I went with my girls to see the new Disney movie Brave. I really thought the topic of courage would be more obvious in this kids flick, but the movie examined several different situations that called for different types of courage.
First, there was the dad’s type of courage. He battled a giant bear and lived to tell about it. Tall and strong, he adopted the icon as his logo, decorating his castle with stuffed examples of his bear-hunting exploits. His courage didn’t penetrate any depth of character, but stayed on top in a he-man, I-can-do-anything sort of way.
A second type of courage fell to the mother in the story. Though the dad didn’t have much of a kingly attitude, she exhibited queenly behavior at all times and expected the same from her daughter. Her courage probed deeper into her character. Believing that she must always be at her best, she had the boldness to rebuke a whole roomful of warriors with utter silence. She stood up to her champion husband as well. Not like an argumentative vixen, but more like Jimeny Cricket, the conscience that her husband lacked.
The third type of courage displayed lay ingrained in the main plot of the story. Princess Merida wanted to be her own person and displayed a willingness to do whatever required to gain that goal. This wasn’t quite of the same flavor as the disobedient, headstrong Little Mermaid. Merida made mistakes, but sincerely sought a way to establish her personality while still pleasing her mom.
I do recommend Brave – my teenager and pre-teens liked it okay. Witch’s work, curses, and the magic of legends can be a turn-off for some folks. And the attacks can be frightening for the very young. (Had a two-year-old near us that cried several times.)
The movie got me thinking about my own dreams and am I brave enough to push through and accomplish them. At this point, 40 pages from the end of my re-writes, I don’t know. I promised my sweet hubby that I would shop my novel as soon as I completed the rewrites, but now that time is so near.
But if I don’t try to sell my books, I’ll never know if I can sell them. The noose tightens.
Do you ever feel that way? Like you have to go forward, but you don’t want to see what’s in the next room for fear that whatever is there is worse than what you have? Welcome to my summer. So what do you do about it?