Why Do I Write for Kids?

Why is it so much fun to write for kids? I think it's because I can get away with things. Actually, there are two parts to that. I can get away with stuff as a writer, and the kids I write about can get away with stuff too. If my kids fib to me, they get in trouble. If my characters tell outrageous lies about what they're doing when they're actually stranded in an African jungle, well, they get off scot-free. Writing frees me from the constraints of parenting. If I can't be a cool parent, at least I can write one.

Max took a deep breath of his own before dialing his home number.

“Hello? It’s me, mom. . . could I have dinner with Alf tonight?”

“Well, what are they having” his mother asked. She was so nosy.

“ . . . uh, I don’t know, let me check” Max covered the holes on the end of the phone and hissed “what are we having?” to Alf.

“I don’t know!” Alf whispered back.

“Well, what do you usually have?” asked Max urgently.

“Uh, fish tacos?”

“Fish tacos” Max said into the phone, regretting his decision almost as soon as he said it.

“Max, you don’t like fish!” his mom said.

“Well, they make them with . . .”

“Halibut” Alf whispered quickly into his ear.

“. . . Halibut . . . and, uh, I tried some and it’s actually, uh, pretty good.”

“I always figured your not liking fish was mostly for show” his mother said in her most patronizing, motherly tone. “Well, say hi to Dionne for me, and don’t get back too late.”

“Okay, bye Mom” Max finished.

“Bye Sweetie” his mom replied before hanging up.

Max smacked his forehead with his hand, feeling slightly queasy. He hadn’t meant to lie so much—or so badly. He smiled weakly at Alf.

“Well, that’s taken care of. Fish tacos? Really? You eat that stuff?”

“Sorry Max—it’s what we had last night. It was the only thing I could think of.”

--from Max and Merlin