"a bit odd..."

"We may want children to learn science and languages, but our societies regard children and adults who enjoy doing that as a bit odd."

"The rhetoric in the field doesn't distinguish between 'the child reader' (roughly understood as any child given a book and told to read it) and 'the reading child' (from whose hands you have to remove the book so that they can eat.) And it doesn't distinguish between what different children read for or take into account that SF readers might have different criteria and priorites than the reader of realistic or fantasy fiction." 

--- from Farah Mendlesohn's article in the Horn Book about SF for teens, The Campaign for Shiny Futures

As a child and adult reader of SF, I have to agree. If a SF book doesn't have a cool IDEA at the heart of it, then meh, meh, meh.  You can have lovely characters, great plot, emotional turmoil, but if the idea being explored is trivial or plain stupid, then it isn't speculative fiction. The whole point is the speculation, the playing out of the "what if" in a creative way.  

Here are some books that I read quite awhile ago, and while the plots and characters may be hazy in my memory, the "what ifs" are not. I've linked to GoodReads so you can see the variety of reactions to these titles, which clearly reflect individual readers responses to the ideas in the books more than their literary merits. 

Beggars in Spain, Nancy Kress: What if certain members of the human race didn't need to sleep? And suffered no ill effects because of it? 

Native Tongue, by Suzette Haden Elgin:  What if linguists ran the world and a language exclusive to women became a secret weapon? 

Enchantress From the Stars, by Sylvia Louise Engdahl:  What if you were so culturally ahead of an alien race that they looked upon you as a magical being? What are your obligations to a "hero" who puts his faith in you? (Newbery Honor, 1971)

Bellwether and/or To Say Nothing of the Dog,  both by Connie Willis:  How does chaos theory play out in love and in real life?

I'm not saying that a great SF book can't have intriguing ideas and fully-formed characters and marvelous literary qualities. I'm saying that without the shiny idea, a SF book doesn't even get off the ground.  And in SF for teens, this so important that if the idea is shallow or missing those YA readers go elsewhere---straight to the adult shelves. Brava to Ms. Mendlesohn for saying this out loud.

You've Got Mail

Sometimes I get email from individual readers.  I always answer those.

Sometimes I get email from groups using Letters From Rapunzel for a book club or class project. I always answer those too. 

I have never gotten email from Johnny Depp expressing a deep need to meet me for chocolate-filled croissants, strong coffee and a discussion of his role in inspiring Letters From Rapunzel, but if I did, I would always answer. Every time.  (I would have to lie about his inspiring me to write or work in any way. He's nothing but a time waster.)

I thought I'd share a letter I wrote to one book club.  It's become my template for replies to groups. (I also answer the individual questions they ask, but this serves as a good introduction.)  I recently sent it to a class in Georgia who read Letters From Rapunzel as part of the Georgia Book Award program. Their task is to make a commercial for my book, promoting it to other readers and convincing them to vote for it. (Oh, yeah, I'm completely in love with this idea.)

I still have to answer their wonderful extra questions (that's my homework!) but here's the letter:

Dear Readers,

On page 173 of Letters From Rapunzel, Cadence says “an author should thank YOU for reading her book, and not the other way around.” I agree with her! Thank you so much for choosing to read Letters From Rapunzel.

When I first began writing the book, I didn’t know if anyone would ever read it. I was having a hard time getting started, mostly because I had written short stories and poems, but never anything as long as a novel. So, to trick myself, I decided to pretend that all I was doing was writing a letter. Letters were something I knew how to do.

Before email and computers, I used to write lots of letters, and when I wrote them, it was as if I were having a long, honest conversation. In person, I could hardly ever be that honest. I was always too worried about what the listener would think of me. But on paper? Watch out!

Sometimes, readers ask me if I am Rapunzel. Did I do those things? Did those things happen to me? Yes and no. 

I used to write in class when I was supposed to be paying attention. I still have some of those old stories and notes. That “freewrite” about snot? That’s word for word from my current journal. (But I never dared read it out loud until it was part of the book!) 

The bridge? It’s real, but I never saw it. I found an ad for a bridge for sale in my local paper, and I saved it because I'd never heard of such a thing. One day, it showed up in my story.

Rapunzel’s Dad’s Evil Spell? That’s real too, except it was my sister who experienced depression. 

Did I ever hit a boy with an English book? No, but once I “accidentally” punched one in the nose. And I poured a can of root beer over my future husband’s head. 

The fortune cookie messages? I taped one to my computer monitor while I was writing the book. It says: You should be able to undertake and complete anything. (Recognize that from page 175?)

In a way, writing my book was like writing you a very long letter. I’m glad you found my words. Having you read them makes me feel less like Rapunzel, writing alone in a tower, and more like a writer in charge of my own story.

I hope you will each write yourself your own Happy Ending. You are the only one who can.

Sincerely,

Sara Lewis Holmes

Readers, start your story engines...

A blog tour for literacy

 "Share a Story - Shape a Future"

(Logo by Elizabeth Dulemba)

The full schedule (it's amazing!) is here.