Tuesday, August 30, 2011

So Here's the Story ...


Yikes! I wasn’t going to write today, but an email from a reader changed that plan in a New York minute. The question he posed was this -- what did I write that was so terrible? Was it pornography? I’d laugh except I can see after reading over my last post how he might have reached that conclusion. I guess I should have been clearer on the subject, so okay, here goes -- I’m finally ready to dish. The truth is I wrote CHILDREN’S books.

Surprised? Yeah, well, don’t think that lessens the problem because it doesn’t. I wrote these books for Christian publishers which meant I had to sprinkle gratuitous religious stuff into the story just in case the kids were too stupid to get the point that if you want to grow up and not be a jerk you have think about the choices you make. One of the most important things about writing for kids is to respect their intelligence. Any “morals” should derive organically from the story and the characters. Just as with fiction for adults you want the reader to recognize transformation as it occurs not after it’s been slammed over his head with a two-by-four. Writing these books also took me to places where no nice liberal woman from Medina (there’s an oxymoron) has any business going. So, you see what I mean here about selling out? It’s not even about ideology as much as it is about people thinking I was something I am not. In my own defense the only thing I can say is that I had no idea I would have to DO anything after I wrote the books. Boy, was I ever wrong about that. I gave enough talks to have shoved FDR right out of his spot by the fireside.

But something did come out of all this that may actually be good. After I decided I would come clean on this to you guys I got out two of the books – one from the teen series and the other, Gimme An A! from the little kid series and forced myself last night to read them both, something I have not done in years. The verdict? The teen series is every bit as dreadful as I recalled. So dreadful that it was actually painful to read it. (Where’s a morphine drip when you need it anyway?). Part of the problem was it was a work-for hire-situation which means I had to use their plot and characters and turn out the novels in a month’s time if I wanted to earn top dollar. So I cranked ‘em out and here I am living to regret it.

BUT! Here’s the real surprise. The basketball series I wrote for little boys is actually not too bad! Amazing. I am stunned. Skip the preaching and they are REALLY NOT THAT BAD. Holy cow! My head is spinning over this. For all these years I’ve felt like crawling in a hole and pulling the hole in after me and they aren’t even as terrible as I recalled. I actually laughed out loud a couple times as I read. I also thought back to working with the people at this particular publishing house and realized that I had LIKED them. Despite the differences in our world view we had gotten on great. The editors weren’t the problem – they were sincerely doing their job. The problem was ME. Back in high school I remember being asked to write a life motto. After much deliberation I quoted Shakespeare, “to thine own self be true.” And there’s the problem in a nutshell. I wasn’t true to mine own self and it distorted my vision so thoroughly it knocked me right out of the writing game.

I’m no Pollyanna, so I am not about to undermine what I felt. Believe it when I say there was a lot of pain and anguish involved, so, right or wrong, that still stands. But I admit that I had forgotten something huge. This publisher and the very nice, talented woman who edited my books offered me a contract for eight novels and agreed to work with me even though my track record consisted solely of nonfiction for adults. They believed I could write a novel and they actually paid me to learn how to do it. What a gift! I also remembered something else that was really cool. I think it was the first fall after the initial books were released and I was at the Buckeye Book Fair signing right before the holidays. A woman came over and bought a copy of every title I had and asked if there would be any more. When I told her the series was to include eight books she beamed brighter than a lighthouse searchlight You’d have thought Harper Lee had promised a sequel to To Kill A Mockingbird.

Turns out, she was a city librarian and had been trying to find books of interest to a man in his 40’s who was just learning to read through a literacy program called Project Learn. Most books for middle grade kids didn’t hold his interest. But he loved basketball and there wasn’t a lot of stuff available at his reading level, so she gave him my first book Sixth Man Switch. He loved it. Then he loved Spider McGhee and the Hoopla and Muggsy Makes An Assist. He didn’t even mind reading them over and over, but he couldn’t anymore because somebody had stolen them from the library.

A few years ago my friend Nancy who does PR for a school for children with high-functioning autism told me another cool thing. There had been a reading contest and the winner and his or her family got to go to an Akron Aeros game driven in a fancy rented car by Nancy. It included an awards program at half time (does baseball call it half-time? I haven’t a clue), hot dogs, snacks, the works. On the ride over to the field which is in downtown Akron she asked the winner, a girl, to name her favorite books .

“I don’t think you ever heard of them,” she replied. “But I love the Slam Dunk! series by Tess Kindig.” Imagine when Nancy told her that she was close friends with the author.

Okay then. So I have had a bit of an epiphany and feel somewhat better. But the big question remains. “What’s it all about, Alfie?”

Damned if I know. But I’m still thinking.

6 comments:

Cheryl said...

You confessed that you wrote them and I confess to not putting them in the school libraries which I ran!

tess said...

Yes, and of course I know why -- the same reason I have been berating myself for ten years!

Saturday Evening Post said...

No, Tess, there is no halftime in baseball. sigh......

tess said...

No halftime, huh? Well, I know they stop for awhile because once when I was a kid I danced an Irish hornpipe during this stopping point in the middle of the big ball field in Cleveland which is now Jacob's, but was then something else. This stopping point has to be called SOMETHING! Please enlighten me.

Saturday Evening Post said...

Well, there's a spot at the end of the first half of the 7th inning, called the "seventh inning stretch", when the spectators stand up and, uh, stretch. But it's not long enough to do much. These days they sing God Bless America. And it could have been between games of a double header - they played double headers on Sundays and holidays, back in the old days. Or maybe it was a football game. Football has halftimes. God this is boring!

tess said...

No, it was not football. It was in the summer because it was very hot and I had to wear a wool costume. May be it was a double header. It had something to do with something Irish, but I haven't a clue what. I need you to educate me on these things, so your input is appreciated.