Every time a child says, "I don't believe in fairies," there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead.
Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie.
Children have an amazing ability to believe. They read Dumbo and believe he can fly. That there are mermaids living under the sea. That animals can talk. And if you wish on a star your dreams come true.
Then children grow up.
We know an elephant can't really fly. We don't believe in magic, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny or Santa. We learn to look for the logical explanation behind something we don't understand. Sometimes we even stop believing in our own dreams.
As a writer, I like to think the only thing that can hold us back is the ability to believe. I need to believe in the words I weave, the worlds I create, and the characters who live there. Because (even though I know they aren't real) I have to believe in my characters. If I don't why would a reader?
And maybe, when I write, I'm still that child who believes.
So I'll clap for the fairies... just in case.