Find the story, Granny Weatherwax always said. She believed that the world was full of story shapes. If you let them, they controlled you. But if you studied them, if you found out about them… you could use them, you could change them…
Miss Treason had known all about stories, yes? She’d spun them like a spiderweb, to give herself power. And they worked because people wanted to believe them. And Nanny Ogg told a story, too. Fat, jolly Nanny Ogg, who liked a drink (and another drink, thank you kindly) and was everyone’s favorite grandmother… but those twinkling little eyes bore into your head and read all your secrets.
Even Granny Aching had a story. She’d lived in the old shepherding hut, high on the hills, listening to the wind blowing over the turf. She was mysterious, alone – and the stories floated up and gathered around her, all those stories about her finding lost lambs even though she was dead, all those stories about her, still, watching over people…
People wanted the world to be a story, because stories had to sound right and they had to make sense. People wanted the world to make sense.

– filters for the world |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith