Written by Santiago Nader
Medically reviewed by Jazmin Galdino (Psychologist, Childhood Sleep Neuroscience and Perinatal Mental Health Specialist)
Writing in childhood sparks imagination, nurtures thinking, and opens space to express emotions. Here’s how to support it without correcting or evaluating.
You don’t need to be a writer to write—especially not at seven or eight years old.
A blank page can be many things: the perfect home for imaginary beings; a haunted house with unknown rules; a place to say what’s hard to say out loud. Even if children don’t know what a narrator is, or why a comma is used.
And that’s perfectly fine. That’s partly the point.
It’s not about writing “well,” but about finding a way to express themselves. Discovering—through play and intuition—that putting words on paper can help them make sense of what they feel (or what they don’t yet know they feel).
Today’s children are surrounded by screens and constant stimulation. Writing quietly becomes a powerful tool for growth, reflection, and emotional expression. For creating a personal and intimate space.
If you have a child nearby, sometimes it’s enough to leave a blank notebook and some pencils within reach, and simply see what happens.
Creative Writing to Help Children Think and Feel
Writing is also a way to process; to organize what’s happening inside.
Research shows that creative and expressive writing helps children identify emotions, reduce anxiety, and strengthen self-esteem. A study by the National Library of Medicine reveals that spontaneous writing has a positive impact on children’s emotional well-being and their ability to self-regulate.
It also helps organize thought: arranging ideas, connecting causes with effects, and paying attention to details. Writing activates areas of the mind that require language—but also pauses, contemplation, and a little space.
Sometimes, offering a writing experience simply means listening closely to what a child wants to say but can’t yet express—and, with some creativity, giving them the right medium to explore it.
How Inventing Characters Builds Inner Worlds
For a child, writing is playing “let’s pretend.” It’s a game: a way to try out voices, inhabit other bodies, and create possible worlds. It’s a chance to simply be—without conditions—expressing their experiences, needs, and desires freely through those characters and universes where anything can happen.
Secret diaries; stories that begin and end in nonsense; haikus about what they see in the park. Introducing children to creative writing expands and shapes their imagination. Ideally, this should be done without correcting. Without overexplaining. Just letting it emerge.
Children’s author Mary Amato points out that when children write without rigid rules, they develop narrative intuition, confidence, and expressive freedom.
You don’t need anything special—just paper, a pencil, and a little uninterrupted time. Most importantly, you need to create the right moment to invite them into the practice.
Sometimes the simplest gesture is also the most generous one: asking, “What story’s in your head?”—and listening with curiosity.
Why Writing Beats Endless Scrolling for Children
In a world where almost everything happens on a screen, writing offers something different: a slower rhythm; an inner time.
Compared to digital consumption, inventing a story requires making choices, imagining, and building. There’s no instant reward or applause—what there is, is a process that’s doubly valuable.
Writing is a slower game—but also a deeper one.
And what if, every now and then, you suggested turning everything off and writing something together? Even just a few lines. Even if it doesn’t make any sense.
Supporting Children’s Creative Writing
Don’t correct. Don’t evaluate. Just read and write together.
Many children stop writing because they feel they’re doing it “wrong.” Early correction or comparison shuts them down. Instead of opening possibilities, it closes them. Supporting their desire to write also means not judging or interrupting a process that’s just beginning.
Instead of tasks, try games: chain stories, absurd lists, letters to imaginary characters. Stories that don’t need tidy endings. Beyond “writing well,” the priority is sustaining the space where writing becomes possible.
The National Literacy Trust notes that children who write for pleasure develop greater confidence in themselves and others, stronger storytelling skills, and a deeper capacity to explore their inner world.
You can start today. Suggest a piece of writing you can read together afterward. Without rushing. Without correcting like in school. With the joy of seeing what they’ve invented this time.
When a child writes, they are also testing themselves; naming themselves. And in that process, something often transforms. It also becomes a form of assertive communication—marked by unconditional acceptance—that gives parents a more accessible entry into their children’s worlds, allowing them to accompany them consciously and, therefore, more fully present.
Even if those words remain in a notebook no one will see, or on a crumpled napkin, the simple gesture of opening that door leaves a lasting mark—and unlocks a powerful, one-of-a-kind tool.
