All my life, I have been drawn to stories of heroes. As a child, I moved from Narnia to Hogwarts to Middle-Earth. I love Andrew Peterson's Wingfeather Saga and T.H. White's epic retelling of King Arthur. I have so many memories of rooting through my grandparents' wardrobe and pretending to find Narnia and of creating fantasy lands with my brother, battling the evil Cold Misers of our imagination in the backyard. All these worlds I have inhabited throughout my life share one thing in common: they feature characters fighting through the scariest of nights, holding on to the hope of some good left in the world. Now that I am (somewhat) grown and aspire to write for children one day, I find myself wondering what it is that compels us so strongly to these sorts of narratives, even at such a young age. I could spend a long time writing about how we all love a good hero, but it's more than that. Beyond the adventure, beyond the pure delight of exploring a new world, ther