So, it seems that I write stories that have kids in them. Not every story, and not every time, but enough for me to notice. Enough, even, for me to kick out a few ideas that would need child in the mix to tell them.
It’s natural to me to want to tell a story from a point of view where the world can still hold magic, where the things under the bed just may slither out a hand or claw out to graze your ankle if you wander off to the bathroom for a glass of water. To me, that’s a child’s point of view.
How many stories are in us?