Anytime a new idea pops in my head, I always think, “Should this story be from a girl’s point of view or a boy’s?” Obviously, a girl’s perspective comes naturally. I was once a teenage girl myself. On the flip side, I’m surrounded by hubby and three sons so everything around me screams BOY! My oldest son is eleven and you would think after all these years I would have some insight as to what goes through a boy’s mind.
And then this happens:
They’re covered in mud, if you're wondering what's all over them. That is oldest son, middle son and a cousin. It’s incredible how often my boys show up at the back door looking just like this. And no amount of time spent with them makes me understand why this happens. Or why they love doing it so much.
So I end up sticking with what I know. Which is writing about girls who don’t always understand why boys do what they do.
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