I write books for kids and teens. I try to put little bits of encouragement in my books and I try to balance good and evil in a way that can be compared with our daily battles – battles kids are going to face in today’s world (in a fantasy setting, of course). Kids have problems, too, ya know! Their problems may not seem like a big deal, but to the one that’s hurt, it could be the worst situation they’ve ever gone through. They’re affected by the same feelings we have as adults. I suppose I could write for adults, but that would be less fun for me. I have enough adult problems as it is, so why write about more?
Now, see this picture? Imagine driving down a road and seeing this on the side of that road. What would you do? Would you stop, or would you keep going?
I remember being this kid. I remember being in his place and no one ever came to ask what was wrong. Why? Because I was young. “What kind of problems can a twelve year old/fifteen year old have?” Right?
I suppose it was ok in the end that no one bothered to ask what was wrong… yes, it hurt. Yes, not feeling “good enough” was often distracting in school…but it changed me. I would see kids in school with the same sadness or fear in their eyes that I knew well, and I remembered what it was like to be ignored or passed by. I remembered the pain of no one caring and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, so I would sit next to the kid and ask them what’s wrong. If they didn’t want to share, I would offer a smile and sit with them until they either told me to leave or the bell rang. More often than not, that bell would ring and I was never asked to leave.
Sometimes, that’s all a person needs – another soul beside them. You may not understand their issue(s). You may not agree with them. You may never even be told what the issue is but the fact that you cared enough to sit with them could mean the world.
I feel like this is a big problem in today’s society – kids are ignored. Their problems are ignored. Their parents don’t talk to them. They don’t help them see the world as the painful place it can be and at the same time, the wonderful place it can be.
With my writing, I try to be the voice of a person “sitting with” a kid or teen in pain. I don’t know if I do it well but that’s the purpose I put behind my writing, besides creating a world of escape. But, that’s just a whole other world of comfort – escapism – isn’t it? I suppose it’s my way of being comforting in a world that feels like it’s going to Hell so often.
I’m not even sure how to end this post. I didn’t intend on it turning into anything like this. I initially just wanted to post some inspirational thought I got from that picture but my emotions just sort of choked and spewed all these words.