Possibility

I had the most wonderful lesson on writing courtesy of Baby Girl tonight. She is a character in my new trilogy, and she read four chapters, found a typo (a future editor!), and was overall delighted by the book and can't wait to read more. But she taught me the wonder of children and writing YA, the wonder of books.

You see, I need to add a trait or two to the descriptor for her character. A familial trait in the book are pale eyes, but she needs something more to distinguish her. I suggested flecks of violet in her eyes. But she wanted a tattoo since birth on the palm of her hand.

"What? Who would give their kid a tattoo?" (Asks me . . . the ever-vigilant mother.)

"Here," she pointed. "A tiger's eye in the palm of her hand." (Her character has a familiar, a tiger, who protects her.)

"A tattoo?"

"More like a birthmark. Something she was born with."

"A tiger's eye?"

"Yeah."

Case closed.

And there it is. Baby Girl doesn't need logic, she doesn't need to explain it. The character would simply would be born with it. Just as Baby Girl didn't ask HOW it was her character has a Siberian white tiger obeying her every command. She doesn't ask HOW she can sleep with a tiger without getting eaten. It simply is.

Children do not wonder how, so much as accept the realm of possibility and fantasy. They live in a world where things simply are, just as they think the world is fair. Eventually, they learn it isn't, but for a time, the world can be a fair place. For a time, being a good person can be enough. Wishes can come true. Magic is real. Fairies can be real. So can Santa.

We could all use a dose of possibility. Dream it. Don't ask how. Just know it's possible. Maybe that's why I became a writer after all. I never wanted to grow up. And you?