A bridge over a beautiful waterfall

A bridge over a beautiful waterfall
Nature brings magic
Showing posts with label ya books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ya books. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Reading YA and younger books

I've been reading a lot of books lately, many of them adult grade fantasy dealing with adult situations. They're fun and I love them, but I found myself looking for a simple read that had nothing to do with angsty teens and hardcore fantasy. So I went to the library and perused the juvenile books. These are books that are a little lower level than YA books. I found two of my favorite books from when I was a child: Anne of Green Gables and Little House in the Big Woods. I decided I was going to reread both series. I checked out the first three books in Anne's story but Little House on the Prairie wasn't there so I just got the first book.

These books bring me good memories. I had a much simpler view of life at the time I first read these, even though things were not very good in my life. They gave me a chance to escape into a world of the past that I didn't have any concept of.

Both of these authors drew on their own life experiences, and those of people around them, to spin these worlds. I haven't started them yet because I want to finish the last two books in the series I'm reading now. Then I'm going to immerse myself in a simpler world.

You've probably all seen the article linked here. It's been all over Facebook and Twitter. I wholeheartedly disagree with the author of this article. YA books aren't just for teens. They can provide a release, a quick read when you're looking for something that isn't as intense as an adult book. Though I'll admit that some of the YA books I've read recently can give adult books a run for their money in conflict.

I always tell people to read what they enjoy. I also say if a teen wants to read, let them. Let them read what they want. If they have questions, answer them. There's nothing wrong with reading something that makes you think. Some adults I know read the Hunger Games series and found themselves asking questions about how the world could get that way.

Do you read YA? Or sometimes books for a younger crowd? What do you read when you need a break?

Sunday, September 23, 2012

How books changed my life

Books. Books changed my life. Books were what gave me my peace and my freedom.

Let me explain what I mean.

I was a very withdrawn child. I didn't enjoy playing with the neighbor kids. Frankly, they terrified me. Part of it was their habit of terrorizing the other kids in the neighborhood (never me or my siblings though...I think they were scared of my mom). Part of it was even at that very young age I was an introvert with social anxiety. In an adult this is bad enough, but as a child this was terrifying.

When I was 3, actually a few months shy of my rather memorable 4th birthday (I'll share that memory one day as it's one of my clearest pleasant memories of my childhood), I remember going up to my dad and asking him "What does this word say?" I was holding the advertisements for our local grocery store. He told me what it was and then I pointed to the picture and said "That word means this."

A whole new world was opened up to me. I started grabbing the ads out of every paper. When we went to the grocery store I would look at the signs and make sure that they matched up with what was beneath them. I was learning to read.

On my 4th birthday, I was given the greatest treasure of all: books. I didn't know how to read them yet but I was determined to do so. At first I just made up stories to go along with the pictures. But my dad sat down with me every night and pointed to the words on the page and read them to me so I understood the sounds and the marks on the page correlated with one another. Soon I was reading my books by myself.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted more.

More books came my way, inherited from when my next oldest sibling was still learning to read. I devoured them. By the time I was 5 - just one short year later - my dad tells me I'd read every child's book appropriate for my age in the house at least a dozen times. I didn't always understand the books but I'd read them.

Kindergarten came and we were taught to write our names. I thought this was a little silly because I already knew how to write my name. I could read words. I wanted to know more. I'd actually skip recess and sit in the classroom and read the books the teacher gave me. My teacher was awesome. She connected very early on that to force me to socialize was to send me into a tailspin of anxiety that made me sick. I socialized while we were together in the classroom, but when it came to recess, she let me sit and read. She gave me books for the 1st graders and let me read those. They were a little better, but I still wanted more.

Then I left kindergarten and I no longer had the ability to read during recess. So I read at every other possible moment. I was doing my assignments as fast as possible to be given the time to read before it was time to move onto a different lesson. I used to get my books taken away from me because I wanted to read rather than pay attention to my teachers.

This went on for a time, where I read every book that was recommended for my grade level and maybe a few books for the more advanced grade levels - though my teachers discouraged that saying I wouldn't understand them. Meanwhile at home my mother was using vocabulary lists to push my reading comprehension to a higher level. By third grade I understood and could put into context words from a sixth grade vocabulary list.

Then I got Mr. Murphy for fourth grade. On the first day, he threw the reading list into the trash and said that as long as we did our assignments in a timely manner and weren't so rude as to read while he was talking, he didn't care what we read. I jumped on this. I read every book in his classroom, and not all of them were at the fourth grade reading level. He even had some high school level books in there that were just begging to be read.

In fifth grade, Mrs. Johnson introduced us to the Hobbit. I read all of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings on my own in the space of a month. They were interesting but it still wasn't enough. At least when I was reading, though, my parents left me alone so I read a lot.

Then, the summer before my sixth grade year, I got my hands on Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey. That was it. I was gone. I was an immediate fan. For those of you who don't know, Anne McCaffrey was the brilliant author who wrote the books detailing the lives of the dragonriders of Pern. Ms. McCaffrey died before I could thank her for the wonderful gift she gave me. But she wasn't the only author to open my eyes to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I could write books too.

Then came the Andre Norton books. I read a few of the Witch World books and then I moved on into others. I read the Rowan books by Ms. McCaffrey. Though I didn't understand some of the themes I knew they were good stories. My parents owned every book written by both of these authors that were available at the time (this was in 1989). I also discovered the books of Tamora Pierce at this time. I suddenly had three female authors who I adored (and possibly worshiped in a sense at that time) and who were successful writers. Most of the books I can remember reading as a young child were written by men so I didn't realize until that point that a woman could write books and be successful too.

It wasn't until I was in 8th grade that I started actually writing down some of the stories that floated in my head. I patterned them after the three women who were so heavily influencing me and came up with my very first fan fic crossover mash up. It was...horrible. But at least I was writing. I haven't stopped writing for any serious length of time since, though I've had a few dry spells over the last 23 years.

If you have never read a book by any of these women, I suggest you go to your library or to Amazon or SOMEWHERE and get their books. I can happily recommend the Alanna (Song of the Lioness Quartet) and the Daine (Wild Magic Quartet) books by Tamora Pierce. I haven't had the opportunity to read any of her other books, though my niece swears by the Keladry (Protector of the Small) books. If you want to read Anne McCaffrey you can either read Dragonflight which is the first Dragonriders of Pern book she wrote, or you can read Dragonsdawn which is a later book but actually the events predate Dragonflight as you discover the origin of the dragons. Andre Norton...just pick one. I can't recommend any specific book, though her Witch World are my favorites.

Without reading in general, my childhood would have been a lot harder than it was. I wouldn't have had my escape. Without these three women, I may never have first set pencil to paper and crafted my own words. I hope one day to meet Ms. Pierce as sadly my other two idols have passed on. I want to thank her for her gift with words and her inspiration to me.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

WSJ has no clue #YASaves

I've dragged my soapbox out again.  And I'm not afraid to use it.  Recently, there was a post in the WSJ that irritated several people.  Such as KD SargeChuck Wendig, and even another author at the WSJ Christopher Farley.  I was curious, so I went looking for the article in question.

This irritates me.

Let me explain why: I'm one of THOSE children.  A child who slipped through the cracks and was pretty much forgotten by everyone except bullies...and my middle school and high school librarians.  Those librarians saved my life by directing me to books that they hoped I'd love.  And not all of those books were sweetness and light.

I talk about my mum and how awesome she was.  And she was awesome, once I became an adult and moved away for a few years.  But when I was growing up, my mum was trying to come to terms with being raised by abusive parents and undiagnosed mental illness.  In plain English, mum was an abusive tyrant.  My dad was never there.  Even when he was there he wasn't THERE.  If not for the librarians and the books they shoved into my hands, I think I'd probably have killed myself.

The books they suggested gave me hope.  They showed me there was a way to escape my hell.  Not only by reading and vanishing into someone else's reality, but by finding a way out of the darkness.  My parents were ultra religious.  I didn't even understand myself because they expected me to fit into their mold and when I didn't I was punished severely for it.  The books showed me new ways of thinking, of dreaming, of existing.

Many of those books were dark and had a lot of overtones of violence, sexual content, and the darker aspects of human nature.  They were not fluffy books.  Fluffy books didn't appeal to me because they were so unrealistic that they made me angry.  To this day I still can't pick up books that are super fluffy because I'll just chuck them at the wall or something.

I'll admit there are more books on the market that deal with the darker subjects than there were when I was growing up.  To be perfectly honest, I wish these books had been around.  They're more to the point than the books I was reading were.  I'd probably have skipped more classes if I'd been able to read those books though, so it might be a good thing that they WEREN'T around when I was growing up.

The tripe about how adolescents don't need books like this is just disgusting.  These books perform a service that some parents don't have time to: they offer hope.  They show that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that they can find a way out.  They go on to show that there are people who can be trusted.  They help teach empathy, a skill many adults would be better off for learning.

YA literature today is what I wish it had been when I was growing up.  I'm proud to support the YA writers I've met and will continue to support them.  Don't try to sugar coat things for teenagers.  One thing I've learned from helping to raise my niece and nephew (who are well adjusted adults now, for the most part, even though they read a lot of these darker YA stories): teenagers have that uncanny knack of knowing when you're feeding them fluff and for many of them, that's the biggest insult there is.

*climbs off soapbox & goes back to regular blogging activities*