Who We Are

For all my ranting about love and how terrible it is to watch the hearts of our children break when they’re let down (probably a number of times throughout their childhood), I also have to admit that these experiences tend to be defining moments—the ones that make us who we are or will grow up to be. Yes?

Heartache tends to make the strong stronger, and the weak, well, weaker. And it’s not so much about how our hearts are broken or by whom, so much as how we handle it and what we choose to do with the experience.

Watching my kids has taught me a lot about life. Say I’m teaching them to roller skate. They fall down and get hurt, skin their knee or something and most of the time, all they need is a kiss from their mom or dad to take the pain away (and okay, maybe a doctor visit on extreme occasions). And then, once they’re healed, they get back up and work twice as hard to figure out those dang shoes with wheels. They don’t forget about their hurt or what caused it, but instead choose to learn from it. Sometimes they’re able to avoid or prevent similar situations, and sometimes they aren’t. But at least they know how to deal with whatever comes. And so do I.

Or, okay, if we don’t know how to deal with it, we know how NOT to deal with it. Yeah?


Guess I have something in common with Forrest Gump's mother, who said, "Don't ever let anyone tell you they're better than you, Forrest. If God wanted us all to be the same, he'd have given us all braces on our legs." 

I understand that this might even be an unusual way to look at life’s ups and downs. But I’m an optimist, an idealist even. And I believe that learning how to deal with heartache is half of life’s biggest battle. (The other half being that we learn how to deal with love.)

Do you agree? Not agree? Am I off my rocker?

A Position of Trust

Okay people, it’s Friday, and as promised, I intend to tie into Monday and Wednesday’s posts and what broken-hearted children have to do with writing.

Two things, actually.

First, when it comes to writing for or about young adults, moments or situations like the ones I mentioned Monday tend to be crucial turning points in the lives of our youth. And depending on the person, one situation can bring about any number of different outcomes.

It all depends on who that person is, what they stand for, what they want, who supports them, and what they do next.  Situations like this? Birth of all contemporary YA novels.

Yeah. (And you wondered where story ideas come from!)

Okay, second. Real life kids—aka readers—have certain expectations from our content. They expect not only a compelling story with characters they love and an interesting plot, but they expect a realistic and satisfying outcome. They expect our fictional characters to help them figure out what to do in their very real lives, how to act and react. (But if we preach, they’re gone.)

But most importantly, they expect that we—the trusted adult author—will not let them down. That by the time they get to the end of our book, they will have figured out how to conquer high school, relationships, parents, and very possibly, the world.

All in ninety-thousand words or less.  No problem!  (See Wednesday’s post if you need a pep talk.)

Stories like this line bookstore and library shelves, float around in backpacks, purses, and lockers. They walk the streets and head to class and shop at the mall. They’re everywhere.

They’re today’s kids. And they’re nothing less than perfect.