I was one myself. Yup. I know how it is to be 11 or 12, with all the freedom and restrictions, joy and pain it involves. So when I write, I feel like that young person, and for a while I become her. I wake up to the smell of toast my mom is making, feel the pebbles through my runners, hear my bike’s tires on the road, taste the warm, ripe blackberries, see spooky shapes in the trees at night.
Writing is the most exciting thing I do. I’m never so alive, for such an extended period of time, as when I’m in my young protagonist’s body and mind, living her life. That’s why I write.