Friday, May 6, 2016

Writerly Acts of Violence

I'm sitting here trying to decide whether or not to break someone's arm.

It's a fictional someone. I can do that--break this child's arm--or not, however I like.

Heck, even just sitting here, it occurred to me that I could break someone else's arm, too.

Recently someone asked me, in a joking, happy-go-lucky offhand way, what was the weirdest thing I'd researched lately.

I said, "Why people no longer commit suicide by putting their heads into ovens."

That sort of killed the joie de vivre.

It was true, and also the answer is interesting, but I think that when they hear I write children's books, many people assume I write bunny books. Or sweet bedtime stories about fairies.

Nope. Sorry. It's all real over here. Excuse me now, I'm off to break someone's arm.

Or not. Still can't decide.

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