While you won’t get me to admit to their coming off the page and plopping themselves on the chair beside me, I do often feel attached to the illustrations I’m creating. The ones that really speak through me can even have names. (yes, it’s true ~ please don’t judge me).

This little guy, the one in the grass on the book up there, is one of my favorites. He makes me smile. I smiled all the while “bringing him to life” ~ and that’s what happens. There’s some kind of unspoken dialogue that goes on between the artist, the ethers, the pencil and the page. The same when writing ~ characters can feel very much alive. There’s a thin line between real and imagined, and a spark that alights.

It’s that inexplicable sparkle of energy that usually results in the best work. You’re tuned in. Engaged. It flows. That’s the best. Even better … is if that energy translates for the reader. There’s the real magic.

Books open so many doors and windows ~ I can’t fathom a life without them; without stories and all their pains and glories and hilarities and knowledge and mystery. They teach, they excite, they take us to a thousand lands and lead us to wander and wonder and think and feel. They make us richer.

(And who knows if a happy goblin might not spring up from the pages sometime? Or maybe we’ve forgotten how to see them… :  ) )

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