My Inner Two-Year Old

My two year old is wearing a pink frilly dress, blonde hair up in pigtails. But that doesn’t stop her from getting dirty, or stripping down to a diaper (or less) for true freedom. She’s already a night owl, staying up late to play with her toys, telling stories about her Little People.
 
She is scared of dark places, like under the porch. Her older brothers’ friends are so big and make her nervous. [Just like the big publishers.]

My writing is best when I strip down the conventions, stop listening to outside forces. My inner two year old puts on the charm when she gets attention, such as from a good response to my writing. She loves to know others are entertained.
 
She hides from the darkness, the unknown, of the blank page. She has a hard time moving forward without all the corners being lit. Which explains why I outline, plot, and brainstorm before putting anything down on paper.
 
She doesn’t have many tantrums. Rather, she is more likely to hide. If someone doesn’t like her (or her writing), or she feels ignored (which happened too often in a big family) she gets hurt and hides in a corner or cupboard. It takes a lot of coaxing to get her back out again.

My passion is fantasy. My inner two year old loves to create different worlds, and bring fantastic creatures into our own. One of my childhood “imaginary friends” was a unicorn, and I think that unicorn has been inspiring me ever since.