I have discovered that when I am writing I am not reading as much. I was shocked to see that I had gone a week without posting here and yet a week it is. I am trying to get two completed books illustrated and working on a third. Of course working may not be applicable as work used to mean eight to ten hours a day at the office. Now work is when I can find the time to sit down at the computer and blather out my thoughts. My current thought is that I am fortunate to be able to have the time and wherewithal to be able to write. Perhaps even more fortunate is that people are buying my books.
Perhaps it is delusional but I strive to write something that might help someone else, primarily young someone elses. As an adult I often find life a bit confusing and perplexing. I look at international affairs and wonder if any of the world decision makers have ever read a history book. I despair over how mean spirited we can be to each other even on something as mundane as a daily commute. I have decades of life to filter the events of a tumultuous world where children have little or no experience to bring to bear on the daily mysteries they face.
I am often asked why I write books for children and the simplistic answer is that I have never grown up so I am really writing to my peers. My heart's desire is that perhaps I can make a difference, that I can ease the path or clarify the situation that a child might face. I look at my books and feel that one book written, one child helped is a terrific balance. If more than one child has a situation demystified or has found themselves escaping on an adventure that puts a smile on their face, even for a short time, I have exceeded my expectations.
Life rocks when you exceed your expectations!