Do Parents Care About the Story, or Just That It Has a Dino?

“Does it have dinos?”

I had just finished explaining the subtle nuances of my book’s story and the character growth I had painstakingly worked into it, when the family looked at me and asked that question.

“Does it have dinos?”

And just like that, I had been humbled by the marketplace. It got me thinking.

Do you write the story you feel called to share, or do you write the story you think will sell?

That is a surprisingly difficult question for me.

I am an author, but I am also a husband and a dad. I make my living by selling books, and those book sales help keep a family of four fed. So, yes, I care about what people want to buy.

But I also care deeply about what I put into the world.

I don't want to add another book to an already overflowing marketplace simply because I discovered that children like dinosaurs, trucks, unicorns, or whatever the current favorite happens to be. I want to write stories that actually mean something to me.

At the same time, I don't want to write children's books that feel like homework disguised as a story.

There are plenty of books that essentially say, “Here is today's lesson. Now let's all learn it together!”

And while there is absolutely a place for those books, that's not what I want to write. I want to write something closer to a fable.

Give me the story first. Give me interesting characters, a little adventure, some humor, maybe a little danger. And somewhere underneath all of that, let there be something deeper.

Something the child may not even realize they are learning.

Maybe they don't understand the lesson today. Maybe they don't need it today.

But years from now, when life puts them in a situation where they do need it, something from that story comes back to them.

That's the kind of children's book I want to write.

The lesson you didn't know you were learning

Think about The Lord of the Rings.

You might love those books because you love fantasy. You love Middle-earth. You love Hobbits.

Who doesn't love a good Hobbit?

But imagine years later you're sitting across from a friend who is going through something incredibly difficult. They're hurting, and you're listening.

And somewhere in the middle of that conversation, you suddenly think of Samwise Gamgee.

You remember his words to Frodo: “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.” And suddenly, something clicks.

Maybe those books weren't just an incredible adventure. Maybe they taught you something about friendship, loyalty, and carrying someone else's burden.

You realize that simply sitting there and listening to your friend is, in some small way, carrying them.

That's powerful. And that's what I love about great stories. The lesson didn't stop the adventure. It was inside the adventure. That's what I'm aiming for with my own books.

I want a child to enjoy the story because it's a good story. Then, maybe years later, something happens in their life and they suddenly remember a character or a moment from one of my books.

Oh. That's what that meant. That would be a much greater compliment to me than someone telling me my book taught them a lesson.

So... what about the Dino?

Which brings me back to that family.

Should I start putting more dinosaurs in my books?

Should I look at the characters children constantly ask me about at school visits and vendor markets and start building stories around them?

Should I tweak my ideas toward what I already know people want? I honestly don't know.

Part of me wants to say absolutely not. Write the story. Stay true to the idea. Let the right readers find it.

But another part of me wonders if I'm making the question more complicated than it needs to be.

Because maybe a great story isn't dependent on the characters.

My son recently had the chance to rewrite the old fable The Mouse and the Lion.

His version?

The Mouse and the Mosquito.

And you know what? It worked.

The characters were completely different. The inciting incident couldn't have been farther from the original. But the story still worked. The heart of the fable was still there.

That got me thinking.

Maybe the idea, the spark, the thing that makes me feel like I have to tell this story doesn't always have to come packaged exactly the way I first imagined it.

Maybe the story can wear different costumes. Maybe a great idea can become a mouse.

Or a mosquito. Or... a dinosaur. So I'm going to try it.

Not because I want to chase whatever happens to be popular.

And not because I think children don't care about stories.

But because maybe there is a way to take a story I genuinely believe in and tell it through characters that make a child say,

“Wait... does it have a Dino?”

I'll let you be the judge.

Maybe it will work. Maybe it will completely flop.

Either way, I think I'm going to have some fun finding out.

Until next time,
A. B. Wade
Children’s Book Author