I remember when my kids were small, seeing boys driving in their cars sporting the tell tale P plates on the front and back windows, and my immediate thought was that they were hoons. If I passed a group of these boys in the street, I would feel uneasy, not knowing what was going on inside their heads. I wasnt a writer then.
But my own son, Ren turned 17 and my whole attitude changed. He began to walk with the same swagger, wear his hair long and scruffy, his jeans halfway down his bum and he began driving a beat up old car with a big stencil across the back window.
Since becoming an author, I have learnt to keep my mind wide open to people, places, events. Now I sit in my curbside café and watch and listen and record. I wish I could see the world through the eyes of a child but this is impossible. But I do observe and wonder and ask why.
Jumping to conclusions, being critical, judgemental, impatient are all enemies to a writer.