When I was younger, I spent a lot of time alone.
Well, not entirely alone. I had plenty of friends—just not the kind anyone else could see.
I’d spend hours having swashbuckling misadventures with a colorful cast of friends derived completely from my imagination. Sometimes, the six boys who also spoke English in our tribe would join in–my brothers and the four sons of our coworkers.
You see, I grew up in the middle of the jungle, in a remote tribe called Siawi. Without an internet or television connection, my friends and I spent a lot of time out of doors. Playing on the wooden swing set our parents had put together, we pretended to be pirates or sometimes magical beings.
As I grew older, I was soon having my adventures through the pages of books, and the stories they held lit my imagination and fueled my soul. They taught me that there was so much more to life than the immediate. That anything was possible—and to believe in the Impossible.
I still look fondly back on those early years, and the simplicity that lay there. My love of the written word, and vivid imagination were definitely sculpted during that time, and have impacted my writing tremendously.
That thirst for something more than the immediate—to take a situation that may have not been ideal and even lonely, and turn it into something beautiful. Something filled with adventure and longing. Something more.
There’s a C. S. Lewis quote that I adore, and it expresses that idea better than I ever could:
Those themes of other worlds, imaginary friends, and believing the impossible have always played a part in my storytelling, but are especially evident in my new novella, The Girl Who Could See.
In fact, the inspiration for the story itself came in two simple phrases:
Every child had an imaginary friend.
Mine never left.
After those sentences crossed my thoughts one day, I had to discover the story behind them. Thus, The Girl Who Could See was born. With every story God’s placed on my heart, it seems there’s always one significant lesson that the main character, and this author, has to learn. While the novella has changed a lot since its inception, that core truth has stayed the same:
Sometimes you have to trust in the Impossible—even when the rest of the world refuses to believe it exists.
Time and time again, I find myself doubting in the most fundamental of these radical truths. That I am seen. That I am loved. That I am of worth because of the One who created me.
If only I had that same childhood faith that could spend hours conversing and playing with a friend I knew didn’t exist. How much more could I rest in assurance of the One who does?
Sometimes faith is blind. And sometimes those who are blind, are the only ones who can truly see.
Did you have an imaginary friend as a child? What ways have you had to step out in blind faith? Do you believe there is more to see than what your eyes can view?
THE GIRL WHO COULD SEE
Find out about the novella here on GoodReads!
If I can get the book added to 50 To-Read lists before the end of the month, then I’ll release an early sample chapter. It’s already been added to 24 TBR lists—so we’re almost halfway there!
So go, my bookish people! Add it to your lists and recommend to anyone you think might enjoy this speculative adventure that holds more than meets the eye.