This book stumbled into my lap because of another book. I’ve noticed as I write these that this is a common theme for me.
Stars started because my writing buddy and I were freestyling some ideas about why Tinker Bell needed a magical orb to keep kids in Neverland immortal, and that turned into a very… hmmm… dark story.
Neverland Again
Once the Dark Neverland idea manifested, it was impossible to get rid of. I started dreaming of Neverland again, something I hadn’t done since I was a child, but this was not the same Neverland I had known.
This place was full of blood and teeth and things that wanted to kill you. Most especially Peter Pan.
Kensy is everything I was as a child: studious, polite, distracted by shiny objects, and most importantly, thrown into a world she didn’t fully understand.
My Tinker Bell
I have never liked Tinker Bell. I know that may be a hot take, but Disney’s version of her bothered me. I loved book Tink, but movie Tink? The worst. I’m sorry if you disagree, but it’s how I feel.
That being said, I knew I didn’t want my Tink to be like that. Mine may be unlikable, but she has a reason. She’s TRYING to be unlikable. She doesn’t care who likes her; she’s surviving in a world where the boy she gave her heart to cast her aside like tiny, glowing, musical trash.
She’s been through a lot, and she’s not on top.
Yet.
I Needed a Bird
Kensy’s path to independence is also not unlike mine. I was forced at a young age to grow up, to be the adult in the dynamic. I was forced to be the one who made hard choices. But I didn’t want to be.
I wanted someone to hold my hand, look me in the eyes, and say they could handle the scary stuff.
I needed a Bird.
I never got one.
Instead, I became that for others. Others who needed guidance, support, strength.
So writing Kensy… well, that was hard. But it was worth it. This girl is a part of my heart, and looking back at her story as I published it chapter by chapter to Wattpad was an experience that I won’t ever forget.
I’m so proud of her for what she overcame, and I suppose, by proxy, a little proud of myself.