Threefoot Tales

Who loves kidlit? I do. Because if magic exists anywhere, it exists in the world of children’s literature.

I’ve read hundreds, if not thousands, of grown-up novels in my life. I’ve loved many of them. But it’s the books I read as a child that stay with me as the bearers of life’s greatest truths. The Little Prince. The Velveteen Rabbit. A Wrinkle in Time. Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry. The Summer of my German Soldier. My Brother Sam is Dead. These are titles I’ve never forgetten, and they still make my heart pound when I think of them.

Even among the books I’ve read as an adult, it’s in the world of Harry Potter where I have found¬†my literary home. The best children’s books do that for us — they not only teach us enduring truths, but they offer our imaginations, our inner selves a home.

I’ve been writing children’s stories almost as long as I’ve been reading them. I have a crate of books I wrote as a kid in my basement. I’ve recently found myself approaching 40, in a period of transition, with time to spare for doing things I love.

I love writing, and I especially love writing stories. So, I decided that now is the time to reconnect with the 10-year-old who wrote a choose your own adventure book involving a unicorn (because of course), a cave, and two best friends. I’m writing stories for children. Hopefully, they will one day find a home in print.

In the meantime, I will be writing and, just as importantly, I will be reading. And when I am here, I will be blogging about children’s books that have not only helped me grow as a writer, but which have also enlarged my understanding¬†of truth, or beauty, or empathy.

While this site is under construction, I will still be blogging at Visit me there!