On the Murder of Darlings

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?


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