Nancy Drew enticed me to write my own mysteries, but never did I include parents. Nancy had her dad and housekeeper; the Hardys’ their dad and aunt – mine? Nope, they hatched from my mind.
I never thought about why I never wrote with parents. The Famous Five had them, so did Trixie Beldon. Mine? Never had any interest in them.
I wanted to be the lead without the oversight or protection of a parent. My own were okay. But we read to escape and as a tween and teen, even I wanted away from the adults. Forget that my characters had to be legal enough to drive and go away without a parent/adult.
I do have a story developing, a couple now that I think about it, where I’m bringing in parent figures. Maybe it’s because I’m a parent, parent adult, who can still see the child’s view as well.
Reminds me of my reaction to the movie, Steel Magnolias. I never cared for it until after I became a mom and then saw Shelby through both eyes – the parent, the child.
Now I understand why I can write parent or not, for me I can now see through both freely without guilt or need to escape. Guess this means mom and dad might pop in sometime. I think my grandfather already has.