My toddler grandson has a favorite question. He asks it about nearly everything: “What happened?”

While I was visiting recently to meet his new baby brother (yay!), toddler and I were in the car running errands. From his car seat, he pointed out the window and said, “Person on roof!”

I answered, “Yes, there is a person on that roof.”

He asked, “What happened, person on roof?”

I explained that the person on the roof was replacing some shingles.

A few minutes later, as I changed lanes, a car behind me honked, causing me to gasp in surprise.

He asked, “What happened—car honks?”

I answered, “I made a mistake and the other driver let me know by honking.”

He said, “What happened, honking? Scawwwy?”

I answered, “No, the honk wasn’t scary, it just surprised me.”

He asked, “What happened, surprise you?”

Many times I answered this question, and many times he repeated, “What happened, honking? Scawwwy?”

My answers—that the sound surprised me, that I heard the sound before I saw the car, that the man was kind of cranky, that this is just the kind of thing that happens in a car—never really went where my grandson wanted the chat to go. Maybe I should have just answered, “Yes, I was scared. Very scared.”

Through the week I spent with him and his family, I came to see “What Happened” as my grandson’s signature phrase.

What’s behind the question?

This got me wondering, what exactly does he mean when he asks “What happened?” I’ve been exploring the possibilities:

1. Conversational practice

Maybe my grandson is just trying to extend our conversation, developing his language skills even though he doesn’t have full enough control over his vocabulary to express exactly what he thinks and wants. Research seems to confirm this possibility.

The back-and-forth exchange between a child and caregiver—what researchers call “conversational turns”—are crucial for brain development. Studies from MIT have found that these exchanges significantly boost children’s language development and brain response to language.

When my grandson asks “What happened?” after I explain something, he’s actively practicing these conversational turns. Each time we go back and forth, he’s building neural pathways that support his language development. Even when he repeats the same question, he’s rehearsing the rhythm of conversation.

2. Information gathering

Maybe his question shows his need for more information about topics like a “Person on Roof” or a “Car honking” and his grandmother gasping. He could be trying to master these concepts by collecting all the data he can.

Research confirms that toddlers’ repeated questions reflect a natural curiosity. Studies looking at preschoolers’ questions found that kids react differently depending on whether they receive what they consider a good explanation. They’re more likely to ask follow-up questions after receiving explanations, and more likely to re-ask their original question after non-explanations—showing they’re actively seeking the information they crave.

When toddlers ask questions, they’re processing things about the world that intrigue them. This shows their curiosity about why and how things work, helping them build knowledge and encouraging lifelong inquisitiveness.

3. Storytelling instincts

Or maybe his question reveals something deeper—that from toddlerhood, we’re wired for story. My grandson may be seeking narratives that explain the unfamiliar or unexpected events in his world.

This idea has strong scientific support. Storytelling is recognized as a basic human instinct, with some researchers arguing that story has even influenced our evolution.

For a child to structure and express a simple story requires an amazing interplay of cognitive and language skills. Research has shown that narrative skill at school entry predicts reading comprehension and writing performance up to ten years later.

Stories affect us physically—we actually “feel stories” in our bodies. As we become involved with stories, brain activity between storytellers and listeners starts to align, and our bodies release chemicals like oxytocin that help us bond.

Author Jonathan Gottschall argues that “stories help us navigate life’s complex social problems—just as flight simulators prepare pilots for difficult situations. Storytelling has evolved, like other behaviors, to ensure our survival.”

Put it all together

My grandson’s constant “What happened?” likely serves many purposes at once.He’s practicing conversation, gathering information, and developing storytelling abilities all at once.

When he asks about the person on the roof or the car honking, he’s trying to create a story that explains these new or surprising events. Rather than just accepting that things happen, he wants to understand *why* they happen—he’s looking for the story behind the event.

Even when I repeat myself, my answers are helping him build essential skills. Whether I provide a factual explanation or lean into the storytelling aspect (maybe I should try “Yes, I was scared because…” next time), I’m helping him develop these essential skills.

His persistent questioning shows he’s actively working to make sense of his world through both information-gathering and storytelling—basic human drives that will serve him well throughout his life.

So the next time he asks “What happened?” I’ll remember that this simple question represents something amazing: his developing mind working to master language, gather knowledge, and create the stories that help us all make sense of our world.

What does it have to do with writing?

All this got me thinking about my own writing and reading—about what makes a novel or short story compelling to me. Many readers are like my grandson, persistently asking “What happened?” as they turn the pages. (I will admit that a close friend of mine once told me she prefers stories where nothing happens. She’s very subtle that way.)

Many good stories answer this question in just the right way—giving readers enough information to satisfy their curiosity, but not overwhelming them with unnecessary details or wandering off track. Readers want to know what happened, but they want it delivered through action and change.

When something unexpected occurs in a story—a character climbs onto the roof, a furious driver honks his horn—readers experience that same instinctive curiosity: What happened? Why? What comes next? Too little information leaves them confused; too much bores them.

Because this is what I look for as a reader, I ask myself while drafting: Would this scene make someone wonder, “What happened?” And am I answering that question in a way that keeps them turning pages, seeking more of the story?

Maybe the best writers are the ones who never outgrow their childlike curiosity—who keep asking “What happened?” and help others understand why it matters.

What’s been happening in my book life recently?

I’ve had a really great time in the past month celebrating the launch of Akashic Press’s Sacramento Noir with the best group of local writers, with readings all over—CapLit, Time Tested Books, Sacramento Poetry Center, Avid Reader, Beers Books, even City Lights Bookstore. And a lot of lovely press, too, including in the wonderful Alta Journal and Solving Sacramento. I’m proud of my story in those pages, “Take as Needed” and I hope you’ll read it.

I also had a great visit in Scottsdale, AZ, where I got to meet two book clubs who wined and dined and entertained me with wonderful discussions. I would love to travel to your book club too. Just email me to start that conversation.