In the midst of the brouhahas we tend to get into, about “why children’s books aren’t valued enough or taken seriously enough” and other silliness like that…
I want to offer an amazing example of why we should never even bother worrying.
I may never win a Pulitzer, or get to stay at a fancypants colony. I may never get a job teaching at an MFA program. I may never get a review in the New York Times.
But I get other things, things serious grownup authors will never get.
I get to peek into the future. I get to remember what it felt like to fall in love with language. I get to connect with kids.
And that is, as I get older, the single most important thing in my life, on so many levels.
I am so so so lucky.