I’ve spent the last four days surrounded by writers. Others who write for children. Others who love playing with language as much as I do. I sat next to someone on the first day who said, “Who knows, maybe by the end of the weekend, I’ll realize I shouldn’t be doing this.”
That’s not the case for me. I know I want to write for children. I also know I need to write. It fuels me. It both challenges and delights me. It gives me purpose.
I leave here with a better understanding of my strengths as a writer and new understandings of how to improve. I leave here with more ideas of how to help student writers, too.
I also leave here reminded that this process requires passion, patience, and persistence. Today on the beach, I chose a small shell to represent each. They will find a place on my desk at home: reminders of what I need to keep this writing dream alive.
As Neal Shusterman reminded us the other night, there is power in storytelling. How can writers change the world? One reader at a time.