So here it is, my philosophy on what and why I write to kids. I think it'll eventually turn into my Master's Thesis...so, welcome to this poorly constructed sneak-preview. ;)

A friend made this comment, which I address in the rest of this blog: "The years have made me want to be too honest with children."

The world was not intended to be an awful place. I believe this with all my heart. Yet at the same time, I don't believe in lying to kids, by saying that it's only awful or that it's only good. I think that children don't understand why bad things happen. (Heck, most people, including me, struggle with the question of "Why do bad things happen to good people" up until they're 6 feet under.)

Most of the time, kids internalize the negatives, believing they're at fault for the bad things around them. Counselors often discover this in divorce and abuse cases when kids believe that if only they'd been better behaved, their parents would still be together or they wouldn't have been beaten.

I intend to write stories in a way that helps children to see that they aren't the ones to blame for the evil in the world. Stories that will inspire them to do what they can to "make the world a better place" (Yes, that's a cliche'), to motivate them to explore the world around them, to inspire their creativity, to give them a reason to enjoy life since so much of life isn't pleasant.

The last thing I'd want to do is sugar-coat life or give kids such a bleak view of the world that they no longer want to wake up in the morning. I think that showing the world the way it is, but also showing that there can be hope, is what will be the best for kids. And not only best for kids, but for everyone. Truth encompasses the whole of reality: what is good AND what is bad. Anything less is just a substitute form of a life.

But of course, one of the most precious things about kids is their ability to set aside the Real, to walk in the Imaginary, and to have a total blast doing it. Just watch 3 and 4 year olds play make-believe.

Children are fragile in the sense that their minds and souls are so new, so ready to soak up information, so longing to learn, to know. They're still forming the filter through which they'll forever see the world.

Much of our worldview--our "filter"--is formed by the time we're four years old. For thousands and thousands of years, cultures have passed on their mores, morals, codes of ethics, histories--in other words, their worldview--in story form. Parents told stories to their children that reflected their own values. We can all attest that it's much more fun to learn through a story!

What kinds of stories are we reading to our babies and toddlers? What behaviors are we modeling for them? How do we train our kids to think and believe when they're in elementary and middle school? What are they being taught in school? What are they reading and watching on TV or in the theatres? Do they know how to discern philosophies, do they know how to ask questions? Better yet, do they feel safe asking those questions? How much will they need to "unlearn" as they grow up, as they realize that some of their ideas and beliefs have destroyed parts of themselves or stunted their growth?

Just take a look at fairy tales, at picture books, at cartoons. What are the "morals of stories"? Don't be afraid of them, but at least be aware. (Another time, after I've done some more research, I'll get into this discovery of just what stories were intended to teach.)

So it's with both excitement and somberness that I write for kids. After parents, it's children's authors and teachers who are the mind-molders of tomorrow.