A Story About a Story

There are moments when you sit down to write something…and something else writes itself instead.

That is exactly what happened when I was invited to speak to a group of students about my book, Whillie: The Cart Who Found His Heart.

I remember pausing before I began. Not because I did not know what to say, but because I wanted to say it in a way that felt true. Not rehearsed. Not structured for the sake of structure. Just… real.

So real that I could feel my young audience leaning in, engaged without effort, leaving not just inspired… but as if they had met Whillie, and wanted to know more about him.

And then something unexpected happened.

As many writers do, instead of writing an outline or a speech, I wrote something that felt almost meant to be read.

A story about a story came out.

Not an outline. Not a list of talking points. But something alive. 

Something I wanted to share the same way the book itself came to be.

Because the truth is… Whillie did not begin the way most stories do.

It did not start as an idea.

It arrived more like a voice.

One that does not care about the time of day or night, what you are doing, or what you had planned.

Whillie’s voice was not loud… like it hurts my ears loud..but loud in purpose.

A lot of my writing is what I call automatic. The first thing that comes through is usually the right thing. Not because I planned it that way, but because I have learned to listen before I try to shape. To draw before I know the picture.

Whillie was like that.

I did not sit down and decide to write a story about a cart. Far from it.

I did not map out a character or build him step by step.

He simply… appeared.

And instead of questioning it, I followed. Whillie, after all, has always been on a roll.

Some of the most important moments in this story did not happen at a desk.

They happened in the quiet hours. The kind of hours where the world softens, rules loosen, and something deeper has room to come through.

There is a moment in the book’s dedication that hints at this. The idea of waking in the middle of the night with something that refuses to wait.

That was real.

It did not feel like creating.

At some point, something shifted.

Whillie stopped feeling like something I was building…and started feeling like someone I was getting to know.

That may sound unusual, but if you have ever had an idea that felt fully formed the moment it appeared, you know exactly what I mean.

There is a difference between constructing something…and recognizing it.

And this felt like recognition.

It became something more than a story

What began as a simple idea slowly became a world.

Not just on the page, but in the way I started seeing things around me.

Ordinary moments did not feel quite as ordinary anymore.

A grocery store was no longer just a grocery store.A cart was no longer just something you push.

There was a quiet sense that more was happening beneath the surface. That even the most familiar things might be carrying something we do not always stop to notice.

And that shift… changes everything.

Nothing feels entirely inanimate.Nothing feels like background.

Life begins to breathe… everywhere.

And that is when I realized something important.

Imagination is not always about escaping reality.Sometimes… it is what brings us closer to it.

It does not shrink the world.It expands it.

And that is how this “story about a story” came to be.

When I stood in front of those students, I realized I did not want to simply explain the book.

I wanted to share the experience of how it came into the world.

Because stories are not just something we read.

They are something we feel, follow, question, and sometimes… discover alongside the person who is writing them.

More than anything, I wanted to give those students a glimpse of what it feels like to create without limits.

To understand that imagination cannot be contained.That which appears in their mind is not random… it is an invitation.

An invitation to explore.

To build.To follow.

This blog is a small extension of that moment.

A quiet way of saying that not all stories begin on the page.And they are not meant to end there either.

Some begin with a feeling.Some begin in a voice.And some… begin by asking us to listen a little more closely to what is already there.

A gentle note

If you have ever had an idea appear out of nowhere… something you wanted to write, draw, build, or create…

Pay attention to it.

You do not need to understand it right away.You do not need to shape it perfectly.

Sometimes, the most important thing you can do…is follow.

And maybe… if you are curious about where that voice led me…

Whillie is waiting for you.

GET THE BOOK HERE!

Make magic today

Francesca