Worlds Collide (The Land of Stories #6)(3)



“How interesting,” Mr. Quinn said. “So you’re saying the series is successful with children because it was conceived by one.”

“Precisely,” Mr. Bailey said. “Children will always be drawn to stories written in their own language. And as children’s authors, it’s our job never to lose touch with that language.”

“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to write for adults, but you’ve always stayed in the realm of middle grade. Why do you enjoy writing for children?”

“I suppose I just like children more than I like adults,” the author said with a shameless shrug. “No matter how much the world evolves, the children of the world will never change. Every child is born with the same need for love, respect, and understanding. They’re unified by the same fears, compassion, and convictions. They’re tormented by an endless curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, and a desire for adventure. The greatest tragedy in life is how soon children get robbed of these qualities. We could accomplish great things if we held on to such a fresh point of view. Think about how wonderful this world could be if we all saw it through the eyes of a child.”

“What would your advice be for aspiring authors?” Mr. Quinn asked.

It was a very important question to the author, and he went silent for a moment while he thought of a worthy answer.

“Always let the world inspire and influence you, but never let it discourage you. In fact, the more the world discourages you, the more it needs you. As writers we have the profound privilege and responsibility to create a new world when the current one takes a turn for the worse. Storytellers are more than just entertainers; we’re the shepherds of ideology, the street pavers of progress, and the scientists of the soul. If it weren’t for people like us, who imagine a better world and are brave enough to question and stand up to the authorities that suppress them… well, we’d still be living in the Dark Ages I was born into.”

It became so quiet the crowd could hear the ticking of a clock. At first the author was afraid he had said something to upset the audience, but once they’d had a few seconds to process his words, the event space erupted into another thunderous round of applause.

“I’m afraid to follow that answer with another question, so why don’t we open the questions to our audience members?” Mr. Quinn proposed.

Nearly all the hands in the room shot up at once. Mr. Bailey chuckled at the sight, tickled by how many people wanted to ask a question of an old geezer like him.

“Let’s start with the woman in the brown shirt,” Mr. Quinn said.

“The Starboardia series is much darker than most of your work, especially the history about American slavery. Were you worried that might be too much for your younger audience?”

“Not once,” Mr. Bailey said. “I will never sugarcoat history so that certain people sleep better at night. The more we shed light on the problems of the world, past and present, the easier it will be to fix them.”

“Now let’s go to the boy in the front,” Mr. Quinn said.

“How many of your characters are based on yourself?”

“All of them—especially the villains,” Mr. Bailey said with a wink.

“Now we’ll go to the young man in the middle,” Mr. Quinn said.

“What inspired you to write the Fairytaletopia series?”

The mischievous twinkle in the author’s eye grew so bright, it practically shined like a searchlight.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was all autobiographical?” he said.

The crowd giggled, and Mr. Bailey’s children collectively sighed at their father’s remark—not this again. However, Mr. Bailey’s twinkle never faded. He looked around the room as if he was disappointed the audience wasn’t taking the answer as seriously as the others.

“It’s true,” he said with conviction. “This world is full of magic if you choose to see it, but it’s a choice I can’t make for you.”

The comment inspired a little girl in the third row to stand on her seat and wave her hand energetically in the air. Whatever her question was, she was more desperate to ask it than anyone else in the room.

“Yes, the young lady wearing pigtails,” Mr. Quinn said.

“Hello, Mr. Bailey,” she said. “My name is Annie and I love your books. I’ve read all six Fairytaletopia books a dozen times each.”

“I appreciate that more than words could describe,” the author said. “What’s your question?”

“Well, it has to do with what you just said, about Fairytaletopia being true,” she said. “Everyone knows Fairytaletopia is about a pair of twins who travel into the fairy-tale world, but I bet a lot of people don’t know you’re a twin yourself. I looked you up online and saw you have a sister named Alex. So I assume you based Alec and Connie Baxter from Fairytaletopia on you and your sister.”

The question took Mr. Bailey off guard. His readers were usually so invested in the worlds he wrote about that they rarely asked him questions about his personal life, especially ones about his family.

“That is both creepy and correct, Annie,” Mr. Bailey said. “I’d say you have what it takes to be a private investigator some—”

“That’s not my question,” the girl said. “According to my research, Alex Bailey attended school in Willow Crest until the seventh grade, but then she vanishes from all public records. I’ve looked everywhere but can’t find a single document about where she went or what became of her after that. So I guess my question is less about the books and more about your sister. Whatever happened to Alex?”

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