“Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window frame.” The Queen from Snow White
As with all creativity, first there is the wish, the dream, the idea. The Queen spells out the picture of her perfect child.
But, when Snow White is still a child, her mother dies. Enter the wicked stepmother who measures power 
and lovableness through her appearance, using a mirror to see that, at least on the surface, this Queen is indeed the fairest in the land.
Yet, as Snow White grows, she becomes more beautiful with each day. And each day, as the mirror reflects back the girl’s growing beauty, the Queen’s confidence and power is threatened. Jealousy grows.
Jealousy is a terrible thing, arising out of comparisons. As Shakespeare wrote, comparisons are odious. With comparisons come self-doubt, self-sabotage and jealousy. Imagine if the Queen had gone about her work, never asking the question of the mirror. Yes, she could see how beautiful her stepdaughter was but why was that such a worry when she was 7 or 11 or 15? The Queen was the Queen; she had the power of her position.
Jealousy throws us out of our work and our integrity and makes us do dumb things like create work that isn’t true to our vision, or speak badly of other creatives, especially successful ones.
Jealousy from others is the poison we ingest that immobilizes our creativity, our willingness to take creative risks and grow in our work.
In the earlier (pre-Disney) form of the story, the Wicked Queen tries three times to kill the older Snow White. The first time, disguised as a peddler woman, the Queen sells Snow White laces for her corset, offering to lace her up and doing it too tightly. The second time, the Queen in her disguise sells Snow White a comb that when placed in her hair again renders her lifeless. Each time, the dwarfs return from the mines, search Snow White’s body and discover the problem, restoring her to life.
Comb and laces deal with surface appearance. And when we get caught up in that, our creative innocence and growth is suffocated. Fortunately, those issues are quickly and easily dealt with.
But the third time…the third time, the Wicked Queen gives Snow White a poison apple, something that she actually takes into her mouth, into herself. And this time the dwarfs see no sign of what has cast the evil spell that renders her dead.
Here Snow White’s innocence and naiveté does her no favors. Even after being repeatedly warned by the dwarfs not to let anyone in because the Wicked Queen will find her, Snow White lets in the disguised Wicked Queen three times (always a magic number). In this way she is like the heroine my writer friend Anne calls TSTL (too stupid to live)! After all, if you had a Wicked Queen after you who wanted to eat your heart, wouldn’t you be just a little wary?
Apparently not. After all, think about it. How many times have you opened yourself up to criticism in one form or another from people whose intent comes from a place of jealousy or ignorance, or a misguided place of wanting to protect you from failure and disappointment?
In the earlier version, the prince comes upon the glass bier of Snow White surrounded by the dwarves who mourn and guard her. He falls in love with the beautiful girl. But he doesn’t kiss her. Instead he begs for and is granted permission to take her home with him. In transporting the bier from one place to another, the bite of apple is jostled from Snow White’s mouth and she awakens, lifting the lid of the glass coffin herself, emerging back into life.
Each time you take a bite of the poisoned apple, ingesting the poison of someone’s jealousy or criticism, how long does it take for it to be jostled loose so that you re-awaken to your own creative power and the beauty of the gifts your creative work offers to the world?
So, are you offering the poisoned apple or are you biting into it?