Have you ever felt like a unicorn?
The rarity in the herd?
In the children’s book writer’s world, I have.
Unlike many of my contemporaries, I didn’t spend lazy summer days, dark, stormy nights, and every other waking moment of my childhood with a book in my hands, nor did I write my first book at the age of six. I have, however, oftentimes envied them. Especially those
who had hunkered down in bed with the covers pulled over their heads, a flashlight in hand because they couldn’t sleep until they’d uncovered the secret to a garden or learned where Papa was going with that ax. The only place you’d have found a flashlight in our house would have been in the cupboard under the kitchen sink, hidden in a forest of dishwashing liquid, furniture polish, ammonia, Ajax, and bunches of rusty Brillo pads.
Don’t get me wrong. I did love to read. Just Continue reading