I've spent a good portion of the past two days reading entries for an annual story contest for 3rd and 5th graders. With a stack of about 600 stories to read it felt a good bit what I imagine editors feel when faced with a slush pile - only for them it never ends. Yikes!
From each pile there were only two were great and ten or so others that stood out. And yet I loved reading them. Such insight to young minds. You can tell, or guess, what issues the children face at home and at school. Just fascinating. Of course, thinking back to the story I created in third grade (I'd fall asleep every night thinking about it) you'd've probably thought my mother was dead. Maybe I shouldn't read into the stories after all.
I'm certainly glad I'm not literary agent, editor or intern.