I consider myself more of a "make-believer" than a writer. While I've only been writing for a few years, I have more than thirty years of experience and memories in the make-believe department.

I remember my feisty grandfather, the family patriarch and avid outdoorsman—"a man's man," if you will‹letting me shampoo his hair in the kitchen sink while I pretended to run a beauty shop one afternoon. I remember the amazing puppet theater and soda fountain he and my grandmother made for us grandkids, and the hundreds of hours we spent putting on shows and serving up pretend milk shakes to the various aunts, uncles, and cousins who were always our faithful customers.

I remember my older sister, Sherry, and I playing "school" every afternoon when she came home from kindergarten. She would diligently recreate the class for me, teaching me everything she had learned that day. It came as no surprise when Sherry became an elementary school teacher years later‹she'd been in training for the job since she was five.

I remember my mother putting us to bed every night and being the "voice" of our favorite dolls. It didn't occur to us until we were adults that my mom had given those two dolls personalities that were the opposite of our own. My kind, quiet sister's doll was a bit of a saucy smart-aleck, while my own doll was a patient, soft spoken angel (which will tell you what kind of child I was!). I remember feeling smug that my baby was the sweet one, and I know Sherry was secretly thrilled that her baby was the spitfire.

Now that I have two young sons of my own, it's my turn to indulge their imaginations and take part in their make-believe. Not that it's always easy. One of the first make-believe games my older son ever suggested went something like, "you be the hill, Mama, I'll be the bulldozer." As I hesitantly rolled myself into a ball and waited for him to bulldoze me, I wondered just how far I was willing to go down the rocky road of pretend.

Fortunately, my sons don't have to rely on me for all their imaginary games. They have an extended family network of expert make-believers to play along with them, just as I had when I was growing up. I wrote "Manny's Animals" (February 2002 Ladybug) for, and about, my son and his grandmother—two dedicated partners-in-pretend. Watching them play often feeds my own imagination, and before I know it, a story's simmering and percolating in the nether regions of my brain. Finding a way to transfer that story to paper is the hard part, and usually requires a dozen rewrites and revisions before I get it right. But when I succeed—when I'm able to engage the imagination of my readers‹then I know that being a writer is the best job on earth.

Julia Durango lives in Ottawa, Illinois, with her husband and sons. You can find out more about her writing at http://www.juliadurango.com.

Guess which sister is featured in 'Day of Grace"!