Stories in a time of crisis

I’m finding that during this time, I’m very conscious of the difference between true stories and fiction. I allow myself one dose of news a day, at six o’clock, because if I consume more I become too agitated and anxious to be a good parent. Instead, I’m retreating into stories, with my two sons, and creating new ones with them as well — in spare time we never seemed to have before, and in media we’ve never tried. 

Today I found myself making a stop-motion animation with my ten-year-old, on an afternoon when he’d usually be playing football. It’s the first film we’ve made together, the first story we’ve authored together. He was directing, I was the flunky. And the funny thing is: the way we made this film — quickly, intuitively, was exactly the same way you’d write a novel. We looked around for a character first, and found an articulated artist’s mannequin. What did he yearn for? A boiled sweet — unearthed on my son’s desk, left over from Hallowe’en. What would stop him from getting it? This yellow truck. Would he reach the sweet or would he fail? Would he overcome his own fatal flaw — you’ll see what that is — in pursuit of victory?

Watch our film to find out…