I just realized how lucky authors are. They get to live out their own story in an imaginary world. They don't just create a story, but live it out with their characters. To me, that concept is incredible, invaluable, because it's what I do, and why I do it.
My two youngest sisters, aged 8 and 10, tried raw pumpkin guts tonight. The 8 yr old didn't like it and spat them out. The 10 yr old liked it. She didn't have more than a taste though, from what I understand. (Hopefully, she doesn't get sick.)