
Anyone who thinks of children as sweet little angels, probably hasn’t spent much time with them, remembers little from their own childhood, or might just need their head examined. Often, such a person, already in their forties, suddenly discovers a burning desire to write books for kids. I would wholeheartedly advise against such a plan! While it might win you applause at the family table, it won’t guarantee international success. And it certainly won’t prepare you for the cruelty young pupils can sometimes inflict on a visiting author.
“Do you like to flirt with women?” a seven-year-old boy once asked.
“I do,” I answered, honestly.
“But how, in such ugly shoes?”
Or:
“How ol