Now most people, during the school semester, are faced with a pretty hefty reading list. Whether an English student tackling Joyce or a Chemistry major faced with stacks of dense textbooks, we're constantly pushing forward and taught to appreciate the difficult works in front of us. But recently, I've been more interested in books stemming from the opposite direction. To be honest, the bulk of what I've been reading is Roald Dahl.
|And look'it the li'l puppies|
|I mean, who doesn't want to read about this fellow?|
And on top of this, a children's author must also:
- teach the child something about moralities or life (i.e., Don't steal; people die but that's a part of life; etc)
- include language that will expand the child's vocabulary without being polarizing and off-putting
- talk about things that kids will be interested in (so maybe, for example, leaving out romance and sex (what?! how?!))
- have an imagination arguably bigger than any other sect of writer
Also, I have just one more parting thought for y'all to chew on: a good children's writer will write books that will encourage kids to read. These kids, having been encouraged, will grow up and become readers of other books, of novels and of adult literature. Most people I know who are avid readers don't remember a time in their life they weren't reading, and it's all thanks to these writers.
And just another side note: the other thing I've been reading is El Desayuno de Campiones, the Spanish translation of Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions. And I'm just going to leave you with my two favorite quotes from that book, the ones that left me curled in the fetal position shouting to Kyle that Vonnegut understands my soul and no one else does. It's really weird reading them in Spanish; they don't hit me as hard because I have to actively/passively translate while reading. The mind is weird, man.
- It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done. I am living proof of that: it can be done.
- "This is a very bad book you're writing," I said to myself behind my leaks. "I know," I said. "You're afraid you'll kill yourself the way your mother did," I said. "I know," I said.