Original. Unique.

Those words are inadequate.

She is sixteen. 

I could have written some of this about her when she was ten. Or twelve. Or fourteen.

I have suggested she is a living embodiment of Scout (from TKAM), and I stand by that description. 

At once: witty, determined, laser-focused on the world around her, opinionated, and in possession of an ability to cut right through the bullshit to the heart of the issue.

I’m not saying she’s always exactly right or that I agree with her completely.

But that is what makes listening to her so intriguing and important.

She is uniquely and irrevocably her own person.

Her focus is scientific, beginning with her early focus on the lives and behaviors of birds. And yet, there has always been a fictional narrative structure to her imaginative world. The world populated by train cars and the family automobiles was real–so real, that she worried every time one of our vehicles went to the auto repair shop for routine maintenance. Her aunt’s car had a name–Olga–that made the narrative even more immediate and believable. 

Nowadays, her imagination propels her into exploration of science fiction at an analytical level. Her sense of logic (even present in her earlier fictive worlds) quickly singles out and sidelines any element not in accord with the established canon of Star Wars. This has led to numerous family discussions over dinner since her opinion is at odds with other family members.  

I’m noting all of this because I can understand why she is a singular and discerning person in the narrative audience. Which is why she is content to be a confident opinion group of “one” amid many differing opinions.

She’s writing. 

She enjoys writing. 

That day has come as I always thought it might.

And that brings me to this:

“Perhaps I write for no one. Perhaps for the same person children are writing for when they scrawl their names in the snow.”—Margaret Atwood