I spent a lot of time here . . .
|The Northeast Regional Library in Philadelphia. (The children's department was in the basement.)|
I made friends with Mr. Popper and his penguins. I enjoyed the adventures of Ben Franklin and his trusty mouse, Amos, in Ben and Me by Robert Lawson. But it was Wanda Petronski in Eleanor Estes' The Hundred Dresses that made me feel understood. Less alone. Like I had a friend. Wanda was broke. She didn't have a lot of clothes. Or friends. But she was imaginative and creative. She was like me. I was like her.
I hope the books I write help young readers feel less alone. More understood. Provide a few hours or days or a lifetime of literary friendship.
That's why it's such a delight when I open my P.O. box and find (not mail for the previous owner) but a letter from a young reader or a large envelope of letters from students at a school, which is what happened last week.
Here are some gems from 7th grade students in Illinois who read How to Survive Middle School:
"I would like you to write about in your next book, maybe about a boy that is having girl problems and doesn't know how to deal with them. I would want it to be a comedy." (Idea noted!)
"I really enjoyed this book. I hope you make a squeal to this." (How sweet is this misspelling?)
"It was one of the few books I could read, and not bore me. The only bad part was how many characters there where. If you fixed that then this book would be perfect. I guest that nothing is perfect." (My future editor.)
"I did not really connect to any of the characters." (Love the honesty. The young reader went on to tell me all the reasons he enjoyed the book.)
This letter from Emily, had me tearing up . . .
"I relate to David because, just like him, I got bullied. After Tommy gave him a "birthday gift," he said "Even though I could turn on my computer and read dozens of fan messages from people all over the world, I feel more alone than ever." To me, that was the saddest part of the book, but the most relatable because when I was bullied, it seemed like I was all alone, and no one cared or understood what was going on. I felt like no one knew how to help. After I read that part of the book, I realized there is someone who is feeling the same way, and someone who was hurt just as bad as I was. I learned not to give up hope."
Thank you for your letter, Emily. It's why I write for children.