I can't remember really believing in Santa Claus. Probably I stopped when I was 5 or 6. I don't quite remember what I was told and what I believed when I was little enough to believe.
I've been reading a couple of YA historical novels lately. They are full of compelling events. But I do not find myself completely drawn into the events.
The way I understand it, a man who got paralyzed from a police beating made a desperate bid for attention by bombing an airport in China. And in the process he lost his hand. Now that's ironic.
I just attended a seminar on children's literature sponsored by Lingua Franca, a UP English Language majors org. Ironically, most of the speakers chose to present in Filipino.