The Dangerous Side of Children’s Booksby Laura Backes
In an editorial several years ago, I described a tree house in
the backyard of a local restaurant. I wrote, "The entire
structure has been pieced together from recycled lumber, much
of which still bears the paint, logos or posters of the
original walls from whence it came. The generous platform is
ringed by a sturdy fence that includes branches of the tree
itself, random two-by-fours, wooden signs, and even a pair of
moose antlers. The 'house' is more of a lean-to, tall enough
for kids (but not adults) to stand up inside, with a screened
door and two screened windows positioned so occupants can
easily spy on the diners below or out over the adjacent parking
lot. A green padded bench that looks like it had once belonged
in a diner adequately furnishes the space. Underneath the tree
house hangs a rope swing, from which kids can fling themselves
into a thick layer of hay on the grass."
Fast forward to this summer. The restaurant revamped their
backyard, including the tree house. The railing now consists of
uniform boards about three inches apart. The house is reached
not by a ladder and trapdoor, but via a bona fide staircase.
The screen door is gone, the windows are covered in glass, and
several of the tree's branches have been pruned back to
discourage climbing. But the worst part, according to my
10-year-old, is that the rope swing has disappeared. Matthew
declared the whole structure "boring." In today's world, kids
have far less freedom than in previous generations. Their lives
are more controlled–sometimes because of parents' fears of an
increasingly dangerous society, but often because we've somehow
come to believe that to grow into successful adults, children's
activities must be channeled, scheduled and programmed from
infancy.
Danger comes in many forms, from a stranger encountered on the
way to school (who may be a neighbor out walking his dog, but
you never know), to free time not filled with "enriching"
activities. But, in my opinion, kids need a little danger in
their lives. They need to test their boundaries, to learn how
to climb a ladder and squeeze through a trapdoor. They need to
hurl themselves into a pile of hay and learn it's best not to
land on your face. If grown-ups clean up their world too much,
kids will never learn how to push themselves. They'll never
have the satisfaction of trying things that are a little scary,
a little off their parents' radar, and accomplishing something
that belongs just to them.
One of the few places kids can still push their limits is with
books. It's possible to step outside your safe life with a
story, or try new ideas on for size. But many adults want to
clean up their kids' reading choices as well. I know parents
who abhor Barbara Park's perennially popular Junie B. Jones
chapter books because the spirited Junie isn't a good role
model, or won't read Winnie the Pooh because Christopher Robin
can't spell very well. I also know a lot of authors who are
afraid to write books that are slightly subversive because they
worry editors won't publish them. But for every parent who
insists on only "safe" reading for their child (and it's every
parent's right to do so), there are at least two parents who
believe it's okay for kids to wade into the danger zone through
fiction. I'm not advocating murder mysteries for preschoolers
here, just books that might be considered slightly uncivilized,
or more entertaining than educational. Let's look at some
popular examples:
When I first saw Walter, the Farting Dog by William Kozwinkle
and Glenn Murray, illustrated by Audrey Colman (a picture book
whose plot needs no explanation), I was worried that children's
publishing might be sinking a little too low. But as it started
winning awards and spawning sequels, I changed my opinion.
Let's face it: farting makes kids laugh. And if your child
finds this book hysterical, you should be glad. In order to get
the joke, kids need to know that noisy bodily functions are
considered impolite. Laughing about them is one of the perks of
childhood. Don't worry, they'll outgrow it.
A picture book coming out this December that's already creating
a buzz is 17 Things I'm Not Allowed to Do Anymore by Jenny
Offill, illustrated by Nancy Carpenter. The heroine utters such
statements as "I had an idea to staple my brother’s hair to his
pillow. I am not allowed to use the stapler anymore." She also
glues her brother's bunny slippers to the floor, and shows Joey
Whipple her underpants. Both big No's. This ingenious story
should satisfy two camps of parents; those who want kids to see
consequences for inappropriate behavior, and those who don't
mind letting their kids live vicariously through a curious,
mischievous character. A pop-up book due out later this month
from three publishing powerhouses–Maurice Sendak, Arthur
Yorinks and Matthew Reinhart–lets young children face the
monsters hiding in their closets and come out on top. In
Mommy?, a young boy wanders into a haunted house looking for
his mother and encounters creatures like a goblin, a mummy, and
Frankenstein. Instead of running scared, the boy pulls pranks on
each monster, deflating their power and showing how humor
conquers fear every time.
Speaking of scary, if you haven't read any of the enormously
popular Series of Unfortunate Events middle grade novels by
Lemony Snicket, do so. With titles like The Bad Beginning, The
Miserable Mill, and The Penultimate Peril, and cautions from
the author such as, “If you are interested in stories with
happy endings, you would be better off reading some other
book,” these are clearly stories where adults dare not tread.
But children brave enough to venture between the covers will
find hilarious plots full of nail-biting twists. The
intelligent Baudelaire orphans have unusual skills (Violet for
inventing, Klaus for reading and researching, and baby Sunny
for biting) that make them admirable heroes.
Lauren Myracle enters the private world of teen girl talk in
her young adult novels TTYL and TTFN. The titles alone might
raise some parents' suspicions because unless they're
well-versed at IM (instant messaging), they won't know what the
abbreviations stand for. In fact, the entire novels consist of
conversations between three high school girls written in
emails, text-messaging and IM's, using the standard computer
shorthand that includes abbreviated spelling and quirky syntax.
If you're not an IMer yourself, you'll find the books somewhat
difficult to read. But you and I aren't the target audience
here. And though the format might keep adults from examining
the books too closely, the plots are standard upper young adult
fare–relationships, family trauma, peer pressure, even drugs and
alcohol–handled in a believable manner that conveys growth of
character by the end of each story.
As an author, if you’re inspired to delve into the slightly
dangerous, dark or subversive corners of childhood with your
books, feel free to do so. Don't limit yourself to all that's
bright, safe and up to code. Allow kids places where they can
wander away from their parents' watchful eyes and have an
adventure. If the adventure's in a book, they'll always come
home safe and sound. And if you're still not convinced,
consider this: In the backyard of the restaurant, the tree
house now sits empty. But the books I've described above are
flying off the shelves.
This article excerpted from Children's Book Insider, The
Newsletter for Children's Writers. More information at
http://write4kids.com
About The Author: Laura Backes is the publisher of Children's
Book Insider, the Newsletter for Children's Writers. For more
information about writing children's books, including free
articles, market tips, insider secrets and much more, visit
Children's Book Insider's home on the web at
http://write4kids.com
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