Tough Topics for Children's Books

When I started writing for children one of the questions, or concerns I had was if I should have my characters kill people. Monsters are okay, but people? What about criminals? Maybe. But is any of it appropriate subject material? I ask these questions as if children don’t see and experience dreaded awfulness all around them. My internal conflict is somewhat comical and I do laugh at myself over it.

When I expressed my overall cognitive dissonance to a children’s writer that I highly respect, she said that children were capable of handling difficult subject matter and gave me some examples. Her wisdom caused me to reconsider my perspective and that enabled me to expand my point of view. Of course that’s always the mark of a good mentor/teacher.

Continuing to ponder the subject, I free floated over to Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. Now mind you, it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. And I saw the movie, which I felt compressed the story line into an impossibly small space.

The plot is about nine-year-old Oskar Schell dealing in his own way with the aftermath of 9-11 in which his father died.  He believes his father has left him a key that may be a clue to finding the 6^th Borough of New York, which has disappeared. Oskar, who is brilliant in his own way, sets about finding what the key opens, which he hopes reveals a secret message from his dad just for him. But because he is so highly intelligent, he also understands that his adventure is to really find more time with his father. More importantly his quest is to make sense of the 9-11 tragedy, which he’s desperate to do.

The book is excellent and I believe the author truly gives us a unique perspective on how at least one small child tries to explain the unexplainable. But as I cried through both the book and the squished up movie, I ask myself if this topic is one about which a children’s book should be written? I have no firm answer.

Children did deal, and continue to deal with 9-11 in real life, so why not in a book? Would you pick such a book off the shelf and have your fifth grader read it? Please leave a comment and tell me what you think.

A Novel Approach - The Wee Free Men

Terry Pratchett is probably one of the most prolific writers of our time. And if you’re someone who likes to read a series from beginning to end, you’ll find plenty to amuse you in his Discworld series. However, if you don’t like the first book and never read another one, you’ll miss the four books about Tiffany Aching.

In The Wee Free Men we first meet Tiffany at age nine who is a witch-wanna-be. Living in the Chalk with nothing to do but care for her little brother, her most obvious talent is making cheese, which is an odd way to begin a fantasy book about witches. At this point you may say, “I’m not interested in books about witches,” and move on to something more to your liking. However, I think that would be a mistake because Pratchett takes the idea of being a witch in a totally unique direction. How different? It would be as if he invited you to tea and then served Diet Coke instead. If I were to tell you that most of Tiffany’s apprenticeship about becoming a witch is learning to use common sense along with critical and analytical thinking as opposed to magic, you may reconsider, which I encourage you to do.

Mr. Pratchett says it best in the following trailer:

There are four books in the series (A Hat Full of Sky, Wintersmith, I Shall Wear Midnight) and Tiffany is about two years older in each one. The themes get increasingly complex and Tiffany has to figure out what to do to resolve the problem she faces. She gets help from the Nac Mac Feegles, also known has the wee free men, although she continues to insist they keep their distance. These tiny, Scottish blue members of a clan are a delightful side story to Tiffany’s development as a young adult and as a witch.

Each book is extremely well written with lots of humor and adults will find them captivating as well. Pratchett seems to do the crossover thing better than most. The following trailer, done in a charming Lego setting, gives you a synopsis of The Wee Free Men. If you like to listen to books while driving, I think Audible has the very best version.

Keep reading after the trailer for today’s movie tip on The Hunger Games and the link to the ongoing book giveaway contest.



Today’s Hunger Games movie trivia tip:  The boots Jennifer Lawrence wears throughout the movie were personally selected by her. She knew she would have to do a lot of her own stunts, so she wanted to ensure they were comfortable.  Remember to enter The Hunger Games book giveaway contest by clicking on this link. Simply go to the bottom of the post to enter!

Hunger Games Book Giveaway

The King of Clubs

Back in college, which seems like forever ago and a day, I took a creative writing course. Although I loved to read, it seemed to me that turning into a mermaid was easier than writing a story. But I needed a humanities course and it was the only one offered that semester.

I walked into the class and the first thing that struck me was the professor, who looked like a mix between an evil villain and a leprechaun. He was about five feet and some odd inches with hair the color of red clay and a pointy beard to match. His trousers were hitched almost near the center of his chest and he wore wingtip shoes. A pointer was always in his hand, which he rarely used to emphasize any fact, so I figured it was some kind of threat to keep us in line. Right off the bat he scared me, and his opening remark didn’t assuage my fears. It was similar to today’s reality shows. He said, “Only one of you will end up passing this course.” Game on.

I put more effort into the writing homework than I did on statistics, which is really saying something since I spent about 14 hours a week trying to get through that maze of numbers. Nevertheless, I ended up with a final short story entitled, “The King of Clubs.” It was the tale of a young girl in college who squandered her time in a bar down the street from the campus. That described half of the girls in my dorm, so the plot was easy to come up with. Back then I had to write the drafts on a legal pad because there were no word processors. The finished product had to be typed on a manual typewriter and there was no such thing as correction tape. Egads!!!!!!

The day the final paper was due, I practically crept up to his desk to add my creation to the ever-growing stack of fiction, only one of which would pass his final inspection. Harry Potter’s cloak of invisibility could have come in handy because I didn’t want him to actually see me and associate my face with failure. Nevertheless, "The King of Clubs” made it to the grading pile. I walked back to the dorm that day as if I were walking down a gangplank.

That class met on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Wednesday night of finals week, my stomach was like a rock tumbler. I didn’t want to be one of the 39 out of 40 that would fail the course. But I wasn’t going to feel any better until I knew my fate and at ten o’clock the following morning I started out to the final session of that creative writing course.

He was one of those instructors that folded papers in half long-wise, so you had to open each one like a greeting card to find out your grade, with all the associated comments and strike outs in stunning red. But most of the greeting cards today were going to offer sympathy. I prayed I would get the one that read, “Congratulations.”

He always arranged our papers in alphabetical order by last name. Mine began with “C,” and the moment he began the walk to my desk was predictable. As the paper finished its return journey back to me, my rock tumbler stomach was going a mile a minute. I paused before I slowly opened my card and nearly lost my breakfast over what I read.

“Nice work, Holly. Not only do you pass, but you get an A. I’ve never given an A. Never.”

I slapped the paper shut, not wanting anyone else to see my grade, or the bold red comments, just in case the other students would want to take the winner into a back alley.

All these years later, I still remember that instructor and that moment. He pushed me harder than I have ever been pushed, yet because of the grade on that paper, I continued writing.

As far as “The King of Clubs,” well, I lost that paper somewhere along the paths of my life. And that’s okay except that I sure do wish I could remember its ending.

So, What's the Deal With Poetry?

No, this isn’t a recap of a Seinfeld episode, although I wonder if it could have made for a good script. Today’s blog is about poetry vs. prose.

Back in the early 2000’s I attended one of the annual weeklong writers workshop at Antioch University in Yellow Springs, Ohio. I camped, in a tent, at the local John Bryan State Park, which was kind of a cool experience and possibly the subject of future posting which I’ll bear in mind.

During that week I wanted to get feedback on my writing. Prose writing. Not poetry. But I quickly learned on day one of that sweltering July week that a prose writer was somehow a second-class citizen. It was the first time I was the subject of phrases like, “beneath the pale” and “just south of center.” No one was really interested in reading prose and as it turned out there were few seminars all week for us minority redheaded stepchildren who allegedly lacked the intelligence or creativity to understand poetry, let alone write it. The bias was unmistakable.

In advance of the workshop I had paid an extra hundred bucks to obtain a one-on-one critique of my writing by a published author. Wouldn’t you know that author was a poet. Ashamed to submit my prose, I quickly wrote some poetry back at camp and handed that in instead. Yes, I succumbed to poetry pressure. I really did. Shocking, isn’t it?

I’d love to say I don’t remember her feedback, but it would be a lie. Her comments are burned into my memory, along with the hazelnut colored picnic bench where we sat while she correctly decimated my work. I remember what we both we wearing and even our sitting positions. Included in that memory etching is the oil slick colored trashcan that looked like an oversized pencil sharpener where I crumpled up and tossed all of my poems once the session was over.

Later that blistering afternoon she practically tackled me in the parking lot. It seems she had forgotten to mention her poetry anthology book was for sale and would I like to buy one. I don’t know what’s worse. That she tried to do it or that I actually bought one.

I’m sure she never thought another thing about that afternoon, but all these years later, I still do because it taught me something about writing what I know in the way I know it. To quote (somewhat adjusted) Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy from Star Trek, “I’m a prose writer, Jim, not a poet.”

Is There Life After Harry Potter?

A few months ago a friend of mine saw the last Harry Potter movie. Shortly after that he announced he wanted to re-read the books. In order. Start to finish. But he didn't have all the books at his disposal. So I accommodated his objective by giving him all of mine. Every last one. As a bonus for him, I included all the movie CDs, books analyzing the series, and some articles on J.K. Rowling. I am a Harry Potter junkie.

Two weeks ago he handed me back all of the materials. He admitted he ignored all the ancillary materials, but proudly announced that he had read all seven books. In order. Start to finish. His next goal is to re-read the Tolkien series in order – for the fourth time. The man has an appreciation for a good yarn.

Harry Potter shows us that a well-written story with magic, action, conflict, and character development can capture our interest, regardless of the age group for which it is crafted. But what comes after Harry Potter?

I suggest Matched by Ally Condie, a New York Times bestseller written for young adults. In that dystopian society, young men and women are perfectly paired to one another. Or are they? Do the methods of that society work any better than our own contemporary dating services? From the beginning of the book, Cassia finds herself in conflict. Can she be certain that the mate selected for her is the right one? If she refuses, what happens to her? We care about Cassia and the choice she makes because even as adults we can relate to her confusion. What if her soul mate isn’t the perfect match at all?

Pick up the book and its sequel, Crossed. I think you’ll enjoy both.