Attempt Uncertainty in the Hope of Publication: A Novel for Children
A tree house in a restaurant’s backyard was featured in an editorial I wrote a few years ago. The building is entirely constructed from repurposed wood, with some of the lumber still displaying the original wall paint, logos, or posters that were once on it. A strong barrier, constructed from the tree’s branches, haphazard two-by-fours, wooden signs, and even two moose antlers, encircles the spacious platform.
With a screened door and two screened windows strategically placed, the ‘home’ may be readily peered into from below or out over the neighboring parking lot. It’s tall enough for children (but not adults) to stand up within. The room is suitably furnished with a green padded bench that appears to have originated from a diner. Children can launch themselves into the thick blanket of hay on the grass from the rope swing that hangs beneath the tree house.
The next thing you know, it’s summertime. The eatery refurbished the entire backyard, down to the tree house. A new railing system with uniform boards spaced three inches apart has been installed. A real staircase, not a trapdoor and ladder, leads to the residence.
A number of limbs on the tree have been cut back to prevent climbing, the screen door is no longer present, and the windows are adorned with glass. The fact that the rope swing is no longer there, says my 10-year-old, is the worst thing. In Matthew’s words, the entire building was “boring.” Children nowadays are not as free as they were in bygone eras. There is increased regulation over their lives, which is attributable to both parents’ anxieties about an increasingly hazardous world and the widespread belief that children need to have their lives planned out from the time they are infants if they are to become productive members of society.
There are numerous potential sources of danger, such as random strangers you might meet on the way to school (who might actually be a neighbor walking his dog, but you never know) or “enriching” activities that take up your leisure time. However, I believe that children require an element of risk in their daily lives. They must push themselves to their limits in order to master skills such as climbing a ladder and navigating a trapdoor. The easiest way for them to learn not to fall flat on their faces is to throw themselves into a bale of hay. Children won’t learn to be independent if adults always tidy up after them. Nothing will ever give them the joy that comes from doing something completely unique to themselves—trying something a little bit risky, something that their parents might not be watching.
Reading is one of the few mediums that allows children to freely explore their imaginations. A tale can be a safe way to test out new ideas or take a leap out of your comfort zone. However, many adults share the desire to regulate their children’s reading material. Some parents refuse to read Winnie the Pooh because Christopher Robin has poor spelling skills, while others despise the ever-popular Junie B. Jones chapter books by Barbara Park because they believe the independent heroine isn’t a suitable example to set for their children.
Additionally, I’m aware of many writers who, out of fear that editors won’t publish their mildly provocative works, avoid writing them altogether. The problem is that for every parent who thinks their child should only read “safe” books, there are at least two more who think it’s fine for youngsters to explore more mature themes in fiction. Books that might be viewed as slightly uncivilized or more fun than informative are all I’m referring to here; I’m not suggesting murder mysteries for preschoolers. Here are a few well-known instances:
Picture books for kids are great, but when I saw Walter, the Farting Dog—written by William Kozwinkle and Glenn Murray and painted by Audrey Colman—I thought they were going downhill fast. My perspective shifted, though, as it began to garner accolades and inspire sequels. Farting is funny to kids, that much is certain. Your joy should be doubled if your little one finds this book absolutely hilarious. Children must be aware that making a lot of noise when using the restroom is rude in order to understand the humor. One of the advantages of being a kid is being able to laugh about them. Have no fear; it will pass.
Already generating excitement is the upcoming December release of 17 Things I’m Not Allowed to Do Anymore, a picture book written by Jenny Offill and drawn by Nancy Carpenter. Things like “I thought it would be a good idea to staple my brother’s hair to his pillow” are spoken by the protagonist. You have forbidden me from using the stapler. In addition to showing Joey Whipple her underwear, she affixes her brother’s rabbit slippers to the floor with glue.
Two resounding nos Parents who prefer their children to learn the hard way about the consequences of their actions and those who are content to let them experience life through the eyes of an imaginative, naughty character will both find plenty to love in this brilliant tale. Coming out later this month from publishing behemoths Maurice Sendak, Arthur Yorinks, and Matthew Reinhart is a pop-up book that empowers kids to confront and conquer their inner monsters. While searching for his mother, a little boy in Mommy? stumbles into a spooky home where he meets Frankenstein, a mummy, and goblins. The youngster, instead of cowering in terror, plays practical jokes on the monsters, demonstrating that wit always triumphs over fear.
Speaking of terrifying, you should read Lemony Snicket’s wildly successful middle-grade novels, The Series of Unfortunate Events, if you haven’t already. With titles like “The Bad Beginning,” “The Miserable Mill,” and “The Penultimate Peril,” along with author warnings like “If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book,” it’s evident that these stories are not for grownups. But within, kids who are bold enough to open the covers will discover stories filled with exciting twists and entertaining characters. The bright orphans from the Baudelaire family are heroic because of their unique talents: Violet can invent, Klaus can read and research, and infant Sunny can bite.
Lauren Myracle delves into the exclusive realm of adolescent discourse in her YA books TTYL and TTFN. Some parents might be suspicious just by looking at the titles; after all, they won’t understand the acronyms unless they’re experts in instant messaging. The novels are structured around three high school girls’ talks that take place in various forms of electronic communication, such as emails, text messages, and instant messengers. The characters use computer lingo, which includes acronyms and unusual grammar, to express themselves. You may find the books challenging to read if you aren’t an IMer. However, our group is not intended to view this. The themes are typical upper-young adult fare: relationships, family pain, peer pressure, and even drugs and alcohol—handled believablely such that characters evolve by the end of each story. However, the format can make adults wary of reading too closely.
As a writer, you should feel free to explore the slightly naughty, dark, or subversive aspects of childhood in your works if the mood strikes you. Think outside the box and do things that aren’t just safe, light, and code-compliant. Kids need safe spaces where they can explore on their own without constant supervision. The protagonists will always return home safely if the adventure takes place in a book. Also, think about this if you’re not persuaded: The tree home in the restaurant’s garden is deserted presently. The books I mentioned earlier, though, are selling like hotcakes.