People assume children’s book authors had dreamy childhoods.

That we frolicked with mermaids, tamed unicorns, and faced down bullies like tiny superheroes.

That we popped out of the womb smiling, confident, and perfectly behaved.

And that’s why we write about happy, confident, perfectly behaved characters.

Right?

Wrong.

Most of us write about flawed heroes, villains who get their comeuppance, and emotions that bruise the ego—because we’ve been there. We felt it. We get it.

Bullies, blunders, and identity hiccups included.

Hi, I’m Sherri Eri. I write stories for kids—and today, I’m pulling back the curtain just a little to share ten quirky little truths that absolutely make me blush.

Some are sweet. Some are awkward. All of them shaped the stories I now tell.

And if you’d still like to believe I’m a 100% normal adult after this, well… bless you.

Ready?

1. I can’t run in front of anyone.

In primary school, a teacher said—loudly, in front of other teachers—“She can’t run. She runs funny.”

From that moment till now, as far as I can get away with it, I’ve avoided running in public. That cartoon-kid version of me—with limbs flailing—still haunts me.

2. I have stage fright.

Thanks to the same teacher.

Before a prize-giving ceremony had even begun, she prepped me, “Curtsy to the audience. But don’t fall. You’re very clumsy.”

So I curtsied.

And fell.

On stage.

In front of every parent and guest.

Never again, I vowed.

3. I stood up to bullies—sort of.

On my first day of kindergarten, a pair of overzealous twins cornered me in the playground. The next day, I came armed and stood my ground… albeit some distance behind. My secret weapon? My older cousin (see post). She was in K2 and had a vibe other kids respected. That showed those twins!

4. I developed short-hair trauma.

To save money, Mum took me to a trainee hair salon—50 cents a cut.

Problem? One side always ended up shorter. Then the other side got shorter to match. And so on. Until my head looked like a fuzzy basketball.

5. I borrowed Mum’s wig.

When my hair finally grew long enough to clip something  on to it, I borrowed Mum’s straight-hair wig--the granny of modern hair extensions--for dress-up. It was my Clark Kent/Superman moment—goodbye fuzzy basketball, hello girl!

6. I swore off marriage at 13.

Then secretly wished for a boyfriend.

Oh, boy. Thanks for being with me those sixish years. 😘

7. I became aware of a bigger-than-usual mole behind my left ear.

My grandma said it meant I was stubborn. I argued with her about that, but… well, that kind of proved her point.

8. I wanted to be a doctor… sort of.

When I was nine, I begged Dad for a Playmobil hospital set -- complete with an operating table, a lamp, and a stiff-jointed pair of doctor and nurse.

I think my dad was secretly pleased -- his daughter wanted to become a nurse or doctor!

But far from it. That operating table was a stage, the lamp was a mic, and the doctor and nurse were Donny and Marie Osmond performing world tours in my head.

Medical school dreams? Not quite. Just a little bit country, a little bit rock & roll. If you’re too young to know who Donny and Marie are, check them out here.

9. I wanted to be blind.

At nine, I met some visually impaired kids. They moved me. I began walking around with my eyes closed in secret, trying to understand what life was like for them.

Years later, I became blind.

Careful what you wish for. Or wish hard enough—and it becomes your story.

10. I couldn’t follow picture books anymore.

After losing my sight as an adult, I asked someone to read me a stack of picture books. I expected comfort.

Instead? Confusion.

The important bits were in the pictures. The words barely held the story.

I felt pouty on behalf of every blind child who ever tried to enjoy a picture book—and couldn’t.

So I decided to write books that don’t leave anyone out. Stories where the words alone carry the magic, the meaning, and the momentum.

So why does this make me blush? Because I feel "paiseh" or shy to do something giants like Julia Donaldson and Aaron Zenz are doing. They inspire me. You can follow their stories with just the words—and that’s what I aim for too with my brand, Picture the Book.

And there you have it—10 blush-worthy truths from my not-so-perfect past.

They’re the little quirks, stumbles, and secret dreams that helped shape the stories I now write.

If your little one has ever felt awkward, unsure, or just a little different—

Welcome. You and they’re in good company.

And I hope the characters in my books feel like good company too.

Thanks for reading.

Check out my titles here!