I guess my love of writing started with one author, Beverly Cleary, whose books I have fond memories of reading as a kid. Ellen Tebbits and her woolen underwear at ballet class. Then Henry Huggins and his beloved dog, Ribsy. Actually, my dream would be to be a children’s author, and I thank her. She is my writing hero.
What I liked about those books, looking back, is the innocence about her writing. Who, today, would write a story about a pesky kid sister, like in the Ramona books? Now a story can’t just be entertaining; it has to have some lesson, like anti-bullying. I’m against bullies, but why can’t a kid pick up a book for fun?
It would be so flattering if Beverly Cleary wrote my biography!! You know that I’m disabled; I can’t walk, speak through an iPad, and have very little function in my hands that stemmed from an illness at age fourteen. Yes, my life is often very frustrating but I’m an optimist: I don’t know why this happened, but I am so blessed to have friends and family who love me in my current state. I would trust Mrs. Cleary not to focus on the gobblygook of my life, but instead write about the many silver linings my life has.