Yesterday, I was in the car with two of my kids, when Jonah (boy, 7 years old), proclaimed he was going to be a writer. I smiled and told them I also have that dream since I was five.
Baukje (girl, 10 yrs old) was surprised and curious. So I reluctantly told them about stories I’ve written when I was their age (a never ending fairy tale about a magical flower and a series about a flying teabag. I know, I was a brilliant kid, haha).
I admitted it was still my dream and they were very interested in what I was writing now.
The conversation went something like this
Me: ‘It’s a story for teens about a girl that is half devil/half human. Her father is the devil (who’s retired for the time being) and her mother, well she’s a bit of a criminal. ‘
Jonah: ‘Cool’.
Me: (surprised they were still interested) ‘The girl protects the gate to hell which is in Paris and only has to do this for a couple of days, because she has done it for years. But then a terrorist starts bombing sites in the city.
Baukje: ‘Really?’ Does this really happen?”
Me: “No love, it’s just a story.’
Baukje: ‘Isn’t it too scary to write?’
Two things happened:
- Summarizing your story can do wonders for your understanding of it
- I realized children are the best. And I love them so much
(Jonah and Baukje being cute, standing on the Eiffel Tower).