I did a little work on my novel today. I’m rewriting a chapter which starts by describing how my youngest character, 8-year-old Bo, carries his favorite possessions around in an orange knapsack. It requires me to really try to think back to childhood: What was precious to us a third of a century ago?

There are some things that Bo doesn’t want to get dirty or worn out. He leaves them aside from his travels. Some get to go, but only with due precautions. Some – like his sprung slinky and his GI Joe – are rugged enough for off road deployment.

I’m fishing for ideas. Well, really I’d just like to talk about it. What was precious to you when you were little? What did you love? What does that love mean to you now?

I’ll post about this again, after I hopefully get a few comments.