I found an interesting article on author Margaret Wise Brown today, who wrote Goodnight Moon. It spoke of how she wasn’t particularly fond of children, but was more like a child herself. From the article:
Is it possible that the most inspired children’s book writers never grow up? By that I don’t mean that they understand or have special affection or affinity toward children, but that they don’t understand adulthood, and I mean that in the best possible sense. It may be that they haven’t moved responsibly out of childhood the way most of us have, into busy, functional, settled adult life.
If this is so, I think I’ve found my calling in life at long last. Get ready for it, kids. The Cat Who Robbed Things is about to take your nursery by storm.
It would be about cats…