Still a Little Kid
Aug 19th 2010Madeline HunterGoddess Classics & Madeline Hunter
I went to Disney World this summer for a few days after the RWA conference. I had not been in a very long time. Half a lifetime, in fact. Much was as I remembered it, but it took me a while to get in the spirit. The thing is, in order to really enjoy Disney World, you have to become a little kid again.
So I did, more than I thought I would. I insisted on doing rides that I knew would make me sick now, and let myself be mesmerized by the 3D stuff in some of the shows. But what fascinated me were all the adults I saw who really turned back into little kids completely. They were really into it. They wore their Mickey ears all day. They talked to each other like Donald Duck. They clamored to be photographed with the characters walking around. They were as happy as any child in the park, but many of them were not with kids, aside from themselves.
This got me thinking about the parts of me that are still a kid. There are ways I have never given up that side of me. There are expectations I have and routines I require that are still those from my childhood.
I still expect Christmas to be magical, and am still a little deflated when it is over, for example. Just like a little kid. If there is a good snow I want that sled ride, even if it will take a crane now to get me up at the bottom of the hill. And, right now, this very day, I am going through all the end of summer/beginning of school mixed emotions that I had as a child. Part of me is frantic that freedom is slipping away, and part of me is relieved to be getting back to a “normal” routine and new experiences.
I suspect that my careers drew me in part because the kid in me saw a chance to stay alive. I still have a school year in my day job, and every year I live that calendar of activities and vacations we knew as children. And as a writer, I not only have a job that is a series of beginnings and ends instead of one long seamless stretch, but I also get to indulge my imagination—-just like a little kid.
What makes you feel like a little kid again? Do you insist on doing certain things certain ways so that you will feel like one?
Is there someone with whom you can happily regress back to childhood?
Can you still talk like Donald Duck?
****I am giving away an ARC to Sinful in Satin, my forthcoming book (9/28/2010) to one poster today










(Author’s announcement: LOIS LANE TELLS ALL, my latest Glory, NC book, hits the shelves today!)
Several years ago, I met a woman who devoted herself to saving abandoned animals. Not just cute puppies or fluffy kittens, but aged turtles, crooked iguanas, cats with no tails, sick parrots, shy ferrets, feeder rats, one-eared rabbits, dogs with no teeth … you name it and if it was pet-like or had the potential to be pet-like, she rescued it. She even had a rescue tarantula. She spent all of her spare money on food and vet care, worked hard to rehabilitate and train these animals so others could adopt them, and put a lot of her life on hold providing for them.
I left the safety of a normal-job-with-benefits to give this you-have-to-be-crazy writing gig a try and I love it. Even when I’m up at three in the morning and I’m wrestling with a particular scene that is fighting me tooth and nail, I still love this job and find that I have endless energy and fascination. I’m always trying to write stronger characters, develop better and more multi-layered plots, and– well, the list is endless. And so is my determination and energy, all because of my passion for this process.
As for the house, I was a nomad for almost 15 years and now I’ve settled down and I am passionate about making my home an oasis of calm and comfort. The day we bought it, I walked around each room and touched every wall and door and window, unable to believe they were ours … that thought still makes me grin like a loon.












