Throughout April, I’m tackling 26 A to Z topics related to children’s literature. It’s U Day, which means it’s time to address one of my favorite kid lit-related topics: unplugged imagination!
I am going to begin with a disclaimer: I think technology is great. I use it in some form all day, every day. Whether it’s texting my husband to ask him to pick up toilet paper, using my laptop to write, or ordering books online, technology makes life pretty darn good.
But technology is like cake. One slice is really good. Mmmmmm. Two slices are a real treat! Three slices can make you really full. But four slices?
Urrrrrgh. Talk about a belly ache.
Just like we limit how much cake we eat, it’s a good thing to limit how much time we spend glued to technology. Which is why one of the values promoted in the Sarah & Katy books is unplugged imagination.
What is unplugged imagination?
Unplugged imagination is the term I use to describe activity and play that doesn’t include batteries, chargers, cords, or plugs. Such activities could include:
- Reading (*physical books, magazines, or newspapers — no e-readers)
- Playing outdoors
- Make-believe games
- Crafts
- Drawing or art projects
- Writing a story
The benefit of unplugged imagination is that children exercise their imagination without using technology as a crutch. Instead of playing a video game, where the story is laid out and predetermined, children can create and act out their own stories in worlds they’ve created.
My nieces, Sarah and Katy (who inspired the Sarah & Katy series) are champs at the unplugged imagination. During one visit to my house, their imaginations seized upon a paperweight on my desk. It was a glass, diamond-shaped desk ornament, but to them it was the crown jewel in a museum. From there, their imaginations ran away with a full plot and cast of characters that became the subject of a previous blog post.
It’s OK to be inspired by technology. For example, one of Sarah and Katy’s favorite make-believe games to play with me is Escape From Bowser. Whenever the whole family is gathered at my parents’ country home, there’s a good chance we’ll end up in the backyard playing a game in which Sarah, Katy, and I are a blend of characters from the Mario Bros. games, Legend of Zelda, and Star Wars. Sometimes we’re Peach, Zelda, and Amidala. Other times we’re Daisy, Sheik, and Leia. The bad guy is always Bowser.
Even though the game borrows from movies and video games, the girls exercise their imaginations in creating their own plots and situations. A bonus: They’re outside running around. (Well, it’s a bonus for them … I’m usually huffing and puffing to keep up by the third or fourth time one of them screams, “Look out! Bowser!” and we go running to the other end of the yard.)
The same goes for older children who dabble in art or writing. Want to draw a picture of Link wielding his sword? Great! Want to write a Doctor Who fan fiction piece? Go for it! The point of unplugged imagination is to create and exercise creativity. Imagination is like a muscle — it needs a good workout a few times a week. The more it gets used, the more ideas and creative solutions a brain is able to make.
Unplugged imagination reading suggestions
I can be a bit of a broken record when it comes to my go-to list of reading recommendations, but here are a few books (including my own) that feature the unplugged imagination at work:
- Sarah & Katy and the Imagination Blankets
- Sarah & Katy and the Book of Blank
- Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
- The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Andrews Edwards
- The Dot by Peter H. Reynolds
- The Nowhere Box by Sam Zuppardi


The path to getting the quilt all began in Mrs. Wilkinson’s third-grade class. (There I am, in the middle of the third row.)
Once the artwork was finished, we turned in our squares for Mrs. Wilkinson to stitch into a checkerboard pattern of alternating illustrated squares and deep blue squares. The finished product featured a classic children’s library; our quilt featured titles like “Charlotte’s Web,” “Old Yeller,” Black Beauty” … one overachiever even illustrated “Moby Dick” (the Illustrated Classic version, not the unabridged behemoth).
(Incidentally, the “Moby Dick” artist was my goodnatured rival for being top student in the class. I spent 10 years of school competing with classmate Nick Madison for straight A’s. It lasted right up to high school graduation, in which we both were vying for valedictorian.)
Almost two decades later, my third-grade teacher happened to be on the library board at the same library where my sister worked. Their conversation turned to my children’s writing one day, and Mrs. Wilkinson mentioned to my sister that she still had the kid lit quilt my third-grade class created. She said since I was writing children’s books of my own now, perhaps I’d like to have the book-themed quilt my class created. She passed it along to my sister, who in turn passed it over to me.