Growing up in “some town” in Connecticut wasn’t very exciting. So some kid making a poop mess all over the bathroom in kindergarten, telling a bully that her face looked like a cow’s butt, and getting chased by chickens in the woods really meant a lot to me. As an aspiring children’s book author, I kind of have to keep these memories fresh. You can’t write for children if you don’t remember being one, amirite? Admittedly, this blog isn’t really for children. Firstly, because I don’t write it in a child’s voice. I am in my twenties and looking back on my childhood. Secondly, I don’t think they’d appreciate it. It isn’t really a “secondly”, because they wouldn’t appreciate it because it’s being told by some “grown up”. I refuse to think that’s what I am, but I suppose to a child, I am, and it is what it is.
Anyway, I’m Hannah.