So how does a man capture the spirit of a young girl?

After my friend Debbie read the chapter called The Butterfly Years from my first novel Angel and the Ivory Tower she asked how I could have captured the essence of a young girl. An example of what Debbie was referring to would be this section from the chapter:

- "In early July, Bud found an old collapsed shack in the tangled woods above the lighthouse. It was buried deep from sight and sometimes hard to find, but the timbers were perfect for the raft, with very little wood rot compared to those we had found in the dump.

“Shortly thereafter, some of us went up to drag the timbers out to our ‘shipyard. ’Tommy found the site first and began to fight a long board through the tangle of trees and brush. I found Tommy before the others and took the end of the board to help. We had to move the board up and down and twist it every which way to move it through the woods. Finally Tommy decided I needed a break, so we stopped to catch our breath and I sat on the board.

“As I sat, Tommy stood there with his arms dropped to his side. He had been carrying the board a little longer, and I’m sure his arms ached even more than mine.

“Then he did something strange. He looked at me and without asking my permission, sat down very close to me. We both nervously looked straight forward into the woods, and Tommy thanked me for helping him. His voice shook as he said the words, and I shook hearing them. Then he let his shoulder touch mine and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

“We heard a snap in the woods, and Tommy shot to his feet. It was the other Alice, the youngest in our group in both age and nature. She had gotten lost in the woods and was tearfully glad to find us. I was relieved as well, and also somewhat sorry. That night at supper my mother asked me if I were ill. -

This does sound like something that would have been more likely written by a female. So how should I answer Debbie's question?

The answer is fairly simple. While men and women traditionally have their unique strengths and differences, they are also meant to blend - thus the continuation of the species. While we are somewhat different, we have so much more that we share. A good example would be my wife, Sue, who made my life complete and whole. I feel that very acutely now that she is gone.

As for the young boy and girl? Well, having reared two teenage girls I have some perspective of that transition of life, but I can also easily remember that moment in my young life when I would be packed into a car full of Baby Boomer kids and would be sitting next to a girl. I can remember being nervous and somewhat afraid. I can remember feeling a spark travel through my skin to my heart - even if we hadn't quite touched. Would a young girl of that age feel any differently?

Maybe that's why so many readers have told me that the characters in Angel and the Ivory Tower, The Pencil Man, The Art of Freezing Pickles, Satchel at the Second Chance, and Lawrence of Lawrence seem so real and relatable. My readers look at these books and say, "That's me."

How much better would it be if we were to come within "spark" range of each other, to speak to one another, and to see in each other, "That's me."

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