Middle Grade Kids Are Building an Identity

 

One Reason I Write for Kids:  Middle Grade Kids Are Building an Identity Kids ages 8 to 12 still believe stories can make their day. That’s one of the many reasons that I love to write for these kids. Honestly, that belief changes my day too. If you’re a parent or an educator, you’ve probably seen the mood swing that can happen in one afternoon. A kid walks in from recess or home from school upset about a friend, or they bomb a math quiz and decide they’re “bad at school forever.” Then they pick up a book to forget about their problem. Ten pages later, their shoulders relax. They’re back. That’s the moment I’m chasing when I write. Thing is, middle grade kids (in publishing, that 8 to 12-ish range) are in a weird and wonderful stage. They’re not little anymore. They can handle some nuance. They notice hypocrisy. They also still want magic and jokes and big feelings. It’s a great combination.

This is when kids start quietly building an identity. Not the loud “I’m a dinosaur” identity from when they were younger. More like, “I’m the kind of person who…” reads mysteries, loves baseball, always gets picked last, makes people laugh, doesn’t talk in class, helps younger siblings, or worries too much. Stories slide right into that identity-building process. They’re practicing adulthood without the safety rails. I mean, they still have safety rails (thank goodness). But socially? Not always. Friend groups start to solidify. Status becomes a thing. Kids test out sarcasm. They experiment with kindness, too, but they don’t always know how to do it without feeling uncool. When I write, I’m thinking about the kid who’s trying to act okay while their stomach is doing flips. A story can name what’s happening without making them feel “diagnosed.” That’s delicate work. I love it. They can read subtext, but they don’t want lectures. Most people underestimate how sharp 9-, 10-, and 11-year-olds are. They spot patterns. They notice when an author is trying to teach them something. If it feels like a lesson? They’re out. I try to show a character making a choice, messing it up, repairing it, and living with the ripple effects. Kids don’t need the moral spelled out. They want the truth… in story form. So, why I love writing for kids is pretty simple. This age group is learning how to be a person in public. Books give them a private place to practice. And for you, the parent or educator trying to raise a capable, decent human while also getting through Tuesday, a good middle grade story is one of the few tools that can feel like comfort and growth at the same time. That’s why I keep coming back to it.

For 60+ fun activities for kids, check out my Nadavir Kids Club. Every month a new activity is added and announced in my newsletter. Visit my website to sign up! Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir Frigg's Journey to Anasgar Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria https://debcushman.com

 

The Stages of Writing a Journal Entry

(A Totally Serious, Extremely Scientific Breakdown) 

1. The “Nothing Happened Today” Declaration

You open your journal, stare at the page, and conclude that your life is so uneventful it could be used as a sleep aid.

2. The Sudden Overshare

Five minutes later, you’re pouring out your entire emotional history, three unresolved grudges, and a rant about something that happened in 2014. So much for “nothing happened.”

3. The Dramatic Narrator Phase

You start writing like you’re the protagonist of a Victorian novel. Everything becomes “a most curious turn of events,” even if it was just you losing your keys again.

4. The Existential Detour

You pause mid‑sentence to question your purpose, your goals, your habits, and whether you should start meditating or buy a houseplant. You write none of this down coherently.

5. The Tangent Tornado

You begin describing your day, then somehow end up listing your grocery needs, analyzing a dream you barely remember, and planning a future you’ll forget about by tomorrow.

6. The Hand Cramp Crisis

Your hand suddenly decides it has had enough of your emotional monologue. You consider switching to typing, but that feels illegal for journaling, so you suffer nobly.

7. The “This Is Actually Pretty Insightful” Moment

You reread a paragraph and think, “Wow, I’m kind of wise.” You briefly imagine future historians studying your journal like it’s a sacred text.

8. The Abrupt Ending

You get tired, distracted, or hungry and end the entry with something like “Anyway, I’ll finish this later,” knowing full well you absolutely will not.

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria
https://debcushman.com

The Stages of Writing a Short Story

(A Totally Serious, Extremely Scientific Breakdown)

I’ve been working on several short stories that are in various stages of revision. Perhaps it’s my love of short-story writing, regardless of the narrow market to publish them, or it’s my procrastination from work on my next novel. Whatever the reason, I’ve discovered that there are several stages (ten to be exact!) that I must go through to reach the stage when I feel the story is finally finished.

1. The Spark of Genius

A tiny idea pops into your head, possibly in the shower or while avoiding cleaning the oven, and you’re instantly convinced it’s the greatest concept ever conceived by humankind.

2. The “This Will Be So Easy” Phase

It’s a short story. How hard could it be? You imagine yourself finishing it in an hour, maybe two, and then spending the rest of the day basking in your own brilliance.

3. The Blank Page Standoff

You sit down to write. The cursor blinks. You blink back. A tense silence fills the room. One of you will break first, and it’s usually you.

4. The Overwriting Spiral

You write a paragraph. It’s beautiful. It’s poetic. It’s 300 words describing a tree. You remind yourself this is supposed to be short, but your muse is on a roll and refuses to be concise.

5. The Sudden Plot Crisis

Halfway through, you realize you have no idea what happens next. Your characters are glaring at you like, “Well? You brought us here. Figure it out.”

6. The “Cut 90% of This” Revelation

You reread your draft and discover that your “short” story is now 4,000 words too long and contains three unnecessary subplots, two monologues, and a metaphor you don’t even understand anymore.

7. The Editing Frenzy

You slash sentences, rearrange paragraphs, and delete entire scenes with the cold efficiency of a medieval executioner. You briefly consider cutting the whole story and starting a new life on another planet.

8. The “It’s Done… I Think?” Moment

You reach a point where you can’t tell if the story is brilliant or absolute nonsense. You decide it’s finished because you simply can’t look at it anymore.

9. The Sharing Panic

You send it to a friend, critique partner, or writing group. Then you immediately regret it. What have I done? becomes your new mantra.

10. The Inevitable New Idea

You swear you’re taking a break from writing for a year or two. A week later, a new idea taps you on the shoulder like, “Hey. What if this happened?” And the cycle begins again.

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria
https://debcushman.com

 

 

The Stages of Writing a Poem

(A Totally Serious, Extremely Scientific Breakdown)

1. The Sudden Surge of Emotion

Something creates an emotion. A sunset. A breakup. A sandwich that was just okay. You are now a poet. The world is waiting to hear about your feelings.

2. The Overly Grand Opening Line

You write a first line so intense it feels like it should be carved into marble. You reread it and think, “Yes. This is how legends begin.”

3. The Rhyme Trap

You accidentally rhyme two lines and now you’re stuck. Every sentence becomes a desperate search for words that rhyme with “orange,” “month,” or “wolf.” You briefly consider inventing new words.

4. The Metaphor Explosion

You start comparing everything to everything else. The moon is a coin. Your thoughts are tangled vines. Your coffee is the ghost of ambition. Nothing is safe.

5. The “Is This Deep or Nonsense?” Crisis

You reread your poem and genuinely cannot tell if it’s profound or if you’ve just strung together a series of dramatic adjectives. You decide to trust the vibe.

6. The Line Break Olympics

You rearrange your line breaks seventeen times, convinced that moving one word to the next line will unlock poetic enlightenment. It does not, but you keep trying.

7. The Title Meltdown

You finish the poem and realize you still need a title. You consider everything from a single mysterious word to a full sentence that explains the entire poem. Nothing feels right.

8. The Dramatic Read‑Through

You read it aloud in your most soulful voice. You feel like a misunderstood artist. Your dog looks concerned. Your cat yawns. Your parakeet has nothing to say.

9. The “It’s Done” Acceptance

You decide the poem is finished, not because it’s perfect, but because you’ve run out of emotional energy and synonyms for “longing.”

10. The Impulse to Write Another One

You close your notebook and immediately get hit with another idea. The cycle continues. You are powerless to stop it.

 

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria

https://debcushman.com

Wake up with Determination

Fantasy gives us permission to stretch beyond the edges of what we know. It insists that wonder is not childish but courageous. When we let our hearts believe, our minds discover enrichment that inspires our progress in this life.

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria
https://debcushman.com

Stages of Writing a Newsletter

 

One of the unexpected joys of being an author is getting to pop into your readers’ inboxes each month like a friendly little book fairy. It’s delightful…right up until you sit down to write the thing and realize you now have to conjure up something your readers will actually want to read. Suddenly the “fun” part starts sweating.

The Stages of Writing a Newsletter

(A Totally Serious, Extremely Scientific Breakdown)

1. The “I Have Nothing to Say” Denial

You open a blank document and immediately forget every interesting thought you’ve ever had. You briefly consider writing about your breakfast, then decide your subscribers deserve better. Probably.

2. The Sudden Flood of Ideas

Out of nowhere, your brain delivers seventeen topics at once. You jot them all down, feeling like a creative powerhouse, then realize none of them actually connect to each other in any logical way.

3. The Overly Ambitious Draft

You start writing one section, then another, then another. Before you know it, you’ve accidentally written a manifesto, three mini‑essays, and a rant about something that nobody cares about.

4. The Ruthless Cutting Phase

You delete a paragraph. Then another paragraph. Then you wonder if you should delete the whole thing and start over. You resist. Barely.

5. The Formatting Meltdown

You spend an unreasonable amount of time adjusting headers, spacing, bullet points, and that one paragraph that refuses to align like the others.

6. The “Is This Funny or Just Unhinged?” Read‑Through

You reread your draft and can’t tell if it’s charmingly quirky or the written equivalent of a raccoon on espresso. You decide to trust the chaos.

7. The Proofreading Spiral

You fix a typo. Then another. Then you find a sentence that makes no sense. Then you rewrite the entire intro. Then you find another typo. Time becomes a spiraling circle.

8. The Terrifying Send Button

You hover over “Send” like it’s a self‑destruct switch. You finally click it, then immediately consider hiding under the bed.

9. The Refresh Frenzy

You check your open rate. Then your click rate. Then your unsubscribe count. Then you check again. And again. And again. You pretend you’re not emotionally invested, but you absolutely are.

10. The “Next Time Will Be Easier” Lie

You promise yourself you’ll start the next issue early, plan ahead, and be organized. You won’t. But it’s cute that you think that.

 

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria
https://debcushman.com

 

Leprechauns Love Fantasy!

 

Leprechauns Love Fantasy!

And why wouldn't they? They are faeries, and you can't get much more fantastical than that!

I didn't write about any leprechauns in Frigg's Journey to Anasgar, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Nadavir is devoid of them! Leprechauns are sneaky little guys who are experts at hiding. Nadavir caves have lots of nooks and crannies where leprechaun trickery and guile could provide some mighty nice camouflage. Although there aren't any rainbows inside a dwarf colony, if leprechauns want to stash their gold coins behind the Nadavir waterfall, I'm sure Frigg would be fine with that.

Have you had any unusual experiences with leprechauns? 

• Maybe you found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. (If you did, I want to hear about it!)
• Maybe you ate Lucky Charms cereal as a child (Or possibly last week!)
• Maybe you found a lucky four-leaf clover. (Leprechauns are responsible for hiding them in clover patches, you know!)

Leprechauns are magical, and they bring a sense of wonder and excitement into our world. Every person should feel magic and wonder from time to time. I hope you have found some joy in your life today! If so, that is your pot of gold, and you can thank a leprechaun. He might be hiding just out of sight.

Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria

https://debcushman.com