When I tell people about our program, their first response is usually a look of confusion. And I get it–when we hear “novelist,” we think of a curly-haired, bespectacled fellow with a serious look in his eye crammed into the corner of a coffee shop, brooding.
What is he thinking?
We don’t know.
Probably something deep.
And yet we’ve published 350 novels by humans too small to ride Space Mountain.
How on Earth is this possible?
You know who doesn’t bat an eye, or question the Herculean task of our program?
Our students.
You’d be surprised how unquestioning nearly of our storytellers are in their quest to become authors. They don’t see it as an impossible task. In fact, they’re almost always bouncing off the walls with excitement on how to get started.
Why is this?
When we’re young, the part of ourselves that judges what we can and cannot achieve isn’t fully formed yet, just like every other part of ourselves–which is wonderful! This means that, as kids, we’re able to dive fully into impossible projects without a moment’s hesitation: digging to China, building a sandcastle to space, counting to infinity.
Writing a novel.
Kids show us that by ignoring our self-critical selves, we’re able to achieve what we once thought unthinkable.
So the next time you’re picturing a “novelist,” instead of our artiste, maybe go with the child pulling on her father’s jacket as he’s ordering a cold brew.
Because she can do anything.
