It was the moment I fell in love…

kaboompics / Pixabay – Falling in love

 

I fell in love for the first time with a boy named James Winthrop Frayne II.  I was 11 years old and madly in love. He was 16 years old, tall and very smart, with red hair, green eyes and a slightly crooked smile. 

PlushDesignStudio / Pixabay – In love with books.

 

Unfortunately for me, James or Jim, as I lovingly referred to him, was a character in my favourite book series “Trixie Belden”. In fact, my love for Jim Frayne was so embedded into my mind that I ended up marrying another lovely redhead (he says honey-blond) who also happened to have James in his name.  And whilst I was falling in love with Jim Frayne…

I fell in love with reading books. 

Now when I say I love books, I say this as an adult who reads on a daily basis. 

I have never spent a day in my life as far as I can remember without reading or food.  In fact reading and eating are interwoven rather closely in my life. I have eaten my way through many books and I have read my way through many meals.  Even now as a mother of three, dinner table conversations are still second place to a book. So for me, books are a need, like food and water. I indulge that need with classics and new authors; old favourites and popular series.  But series fiction holds a dear spot in my heart. As a child, series fiction gave me Jim and Trixie, Harry and Hermoine, Frank and Joe, Nancy and Bess, Laura Ingalls, Anne Shirley, Lucy, Pollyanna, Heidi, George and Timmy, Darryl and Sally. As an adult series fiction brought me Doc Scarpetta, Tempe Brennan, Ayla of no people, Falco, Jamie and Claire plus many others into my life.  Whilst I have loved the classics and other stand alone titles, series fiction brought me the greatest joy.   

{silence} {crickets} {crashing cups of tea and chairs} {my career as a future TL fading into the sunset}

Yes, as an adult who is also a fledgling teacher librarian, I am voicing out loud my deep and ardent affection for serial stories.  Now, once everyone has picked themselves off the floor and righted their tea cups; I will explain my thoughts.

I acknowledge that series fiction, whether for adults or children, has often been regarded as literary rubbish.  Often viewed as the ‘Mills & Boon’ of literature, series fiction is derided for its repetitive structure, predictive plot and lack of character development (Westfahl, 2018).  Some would even argue that its presence on bookshelves is a betrayal of literary values (Westfahl, 2018). But these people are snobs! Books do not always have to be among the lexicons of literature.  Books, especially fiction books, should be able to satisfy cognitive, emotional and the developmental needs of the reader and series fiction definitely addresses the emotional needs of both fledging and proficient readers.

But before I elaborate deeply on how series fiction changed my life; I would like to clarify a few technical issues.  There are three main types of series fiction. Firstly, there is the progressive series; where a longer narrative is broken down into shorter novels and the sequence of titles is important to the reader and storyline (Wooldridge, 2015).  Then there are the successive series, where the plot repeats itself continuously and lastly, the accidental variety where the author reluctantly writes prequels and sequels to comfort the crazies.  

Rowling’s Harry Potter, Marsden’s Tomorrow when the war began, Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables and Wilder’s Little house books are some examples of progressive series.  These book concatenations had a definite end which saw the characters grow and develop along with the reader.  I was one of those readers that grew up with Ellie and Harry. I devoured John Marsden’s series in a matter of months.  My poor high school teacher librarian was continuously pestered to get the rest of the series once I got hold of the first one. Poor man!  Lucky for him, by the time I discovered Harry, I had a job and a library membership! I was 13 when the first HP book was released and as Harry grew up, so did I.  Harry, Hermoine and Ron were more than just book characters, for me they were friends.  

Successive series examples include the famous Diary of a wimpy kid, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden, Babysitters club, Animorphs, Famous Five, Secret Seven, and Bobbsey Twins.  These series have a foreseeable story patterns with comforting characters and obvious plots (Wooldridge, 2015).  Whilst these books may seem formulaic (they are!), it is their predictability that makes them popular. Series fiction offers children constancy and security in a world full of upheaval (Wooldridge, 2015).  Children develop a sense of trust, an affection with the character and possibly even a relationship with the author (Wooldridge, 2015). So while they themselves grow up through the tumultuous years of puberty, series fiction with its predictability offers an escape, a playdate with an old friend.  

I developed this type of relationship with Enid Blyton after being introduced to the Famous Five. The sheer joy received from reading that series led me to trust her writing style and with it I discovered Secret Seven, 5 find outers and it, Mallory Towers, Twins at St Claire’s, Wishing Chair, Enchanted Tree, Amelia Jane and so many more.  For an awkward immigrant kid with poor social skills, these books allowed me to escape to places where magic and friendship abounded.  My daughter is also a big Blyton fan. Every time she picks up a book authored by Blyton, I know that she will most likely gain the same level of emotional satisfaction that I did and so develop her love of reading.  There is also a great deal of enjoyment to share with her the books of my childhood.

The last main type of series fiction is the accidental variety.  These are books that the author only planned on one, and then somehow their popularity has meant sequels and prequels were soon requested by adoring fans.  George M Martin’s Game of Thrones is such a series, spawning an TV run that lasted several years and ended before the last book has even been published.  Diana Gabaldan’s Outlander series is currently stalled at the near publication of its 9th book and only time will tell if the tenth book will ever eventuate (especially since the first book was published almost 20 years ago!).  Other accidental series include Baum’s Wizard of Oz, Norton’s The Borrowers and P. L. Traver’s Mary Poppins.  Because these series were accidental and not planned, their storylines do not always make sense and can appear a bit jerky at times.  Sometimes they abruptly end if the author or readers lose interest.  

Series fiction has been around for a long time. As much as some literary snobs would hate to admit, there are some current classics that used to be serials.  Dicken’s Pickwick Papers and another seven of his other titles as well as Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes started off as series but then were condensed into a novel several reprints later (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018).  Even further back to the folklore stories such as mythical twelve tasks of Hercules; the thousand and one stories of Scherazade and adventures of the Round table are varieties of series fiction.  So to all those literary snobs that believe series fiction are rubbish… well… pffft to you.  

If you think about it from a practical viewpoint it makes sense if you have a recipe that works to use it!  Edward Strathmeyer had such a recipe back in the boom days of series fiction. He planned outlines of books and then organised cheap ghost writers to write the stories, and oh boy… did it work!  The whole Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys production is based upon this magical recipe (Westfahl, 2018).  The recipe had some key ingredients. Characters are kept the same age; have the same small town holistic upbringing; go on amazing adventures, travel the world but always come home safely to a loving family.  These books allowed children and teens (mainly aimed at Caucausian middle class Americans) an avenue of escape from their groundhog day lives. As these book characters all suffered from perennial Peter Pan syndrome, they have never lost their appeal even in its trillionth reprint nearly ninety years after the first copy (Finnian, 2013).  I will mention here that whilst racial demographics and family structure has evolved significantly since the first Stratemeyer book was published in 1927, their popularity has not changed.  The plot pattern remains the same but the settings and dilemmas have evolved with the times.  Obviously the recipe still works!

So what is the benefit of series fiction?  Besides emotional satisfaction, series fiction allows the reader to build their literacy skills.  McGill-Franzen & Ward (2018) believes that the predictable plots assist in developing word recognition which in turn boosts vocabulary and reading confidence.  The formulaic story pattern allows the reader to easily identify any explicit reading conventions present. This expanded vocabulary and confidence then allows the reader to successfully use their increased literacy skills in other areas. 

Series fiction makes it simple for readers to identify titles they are willing to read because they identify with the author.  Reluctant readers are more likely to pick a book they are familiar with by the same author; than a title by a new author. They are also more likely to try other titles by that author because of the relationship that was previously established.  A great example is John Flanagan, author of the fabulous Ranger’s apprentice series.  Teens who enjoy that series often move onto the Royal Ranger series as well as Brotherband because they trust the author. The same can be said for Rick Riordan and the plethora of books he has published.  

The impact of series fiction is clear.  Children and teens who read more books end up being more adults who read.  Remember, committed adult readers were hooked onto reading as children by series fiction (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018).  And whilst reading of insightful novels that provokes critical thinking complements a wide reading program, it cannot replace it.  Pushing the classics onto children and teens before they are ready is unlikely to work. But offering them an opportunity to connect with an author or a series they can engage with may put them onto the pathway towards literature.  After all, children do age out of one series and into another (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018). They grow from Blyton’s Magic Faraway tree to Rodda’s Rowan of Rin, to Rowling’s Harry Potter to Marsden’s Tomorrow when the war began to Davis’ Falco, Cornwall’s Scarpetta and Reichs’ Bones and Hume’s Arthur and Merlin series and eventually they reach the classics. Why do I know that?  Cos I did just that.  

I fell in love with reading as a child.  I have stayed in love with reading as an adult.  Are you in love with reading? If so, when did it happen?

REFERENCES

Finnan, Robert (2013). “Unofficial Nancy Drew Home Page”. Retrieved 14th March 2020. 

McGill-Franzen, A. & Ward, N. (2018). To develop proficiency and engagement, give series books to novice readers. In D. Wooten, B. Cullinan, L. Liang & R. Allington (Eds). Children’s literature in the reading program: Engaging young readers in the 21st century, (5th ed., pp. 153-168). Retrieved from Proquest Ebook Central.

Westfahl, G. (1999-2018). Series fiction. World of Westfahl. Retrieved from https://www.sfsite.com/gary/ww-ref-series01.htm

Woolridge, T. (2015). Series fiction and Sallly Rippin’s Billie B Brown series: The ‘Most important continuous reading children do on their own’. mETAphor, 3, 30-35. Retrieved from https://www.englishteacher.com.au/

 

Once upon a time… 

Ramdlon / PixabayA

An expression that is almost universally known by both adults and children alike.  The mere mention of this phrase is enough to perk my offspring’s heads and ears like meerkats on high alert.   Like most children, my three girls love story time in all its forms. In their eyes (and ears) it is irrelevant how the story originates.  Depending on my mood and their persuasive power; the mode and delivery of the story will vary. Sometimes it is a retelling of an old favourite or a re-read of a treasured classic; other times it is the most recent offering from a library; and occasionally, it is a spuriously invented pudding-headed story to bring silly smiles to little faces.

Cornett (2014) theorised that stories and storytelling developed from a need of the ancient peoples to understand their world.  Stories are how cultural traditions and practices were passed down the generations and it is still the most common method in which communities celebrate and immortalise important events.  After all, most families have embarrassing stories that get retold at every family gathering and eventually they become familial folklore.  The Indigenous peoples of Australia have a rich history of oral traditions and as such, much of their cultural histories are embodied and immortalised in storytelling.  But even for societies that no longer possess such a strong emphasis on oral traditions, storytelling is still the most basic and simple way we learn about language, our identity and the society we live in (Ross Johnston, 2014; Cornett, 2014). 

So what makes a story so special?

Besides being a vector of traditions, stories and storytelling play key roles in language acquisition in children as stories expand their vocabulary repertoire (Cornett, 2014).  Infants and toddlers do absorb nuances of language from their daily life from conversation but reading stories increases the variety of words available. This means that when exposed to literature as adolescents there is already a familiarity with language, which improves comprehension and fluency. 

Besides language acquisition, stories also assist with identity formation (Ross Johnston, 2014).   To put it simply, stories often contain didactic language that belongs to a particular sub section of society and thus stories can connect individuals together in society and or inform others of another society.  A great example of this is Mem Fox’s ‘Possum magic’ with its inclusion of terms such as vegemite, pavlova and lamingtons. Australian children resonate with this story as the language used within is familiar to them and they can connect to the familiar animal characters.  Whereas children from other countries could find this language both exotic and a novelty. Similarly, Rod Clement’s ‘Olga the Brolga’ brings together Australian fauna with its fabulous illustrations and rhyming text. Children who are exposed to stories like this discover local vocabulary and in turn unearth aspects of their own country and culture. 

Stories are more than just words in a book.  Stories reflect societal norms and allows children to gain information about the world they live in.  They expand the mind, broaden values, teach empathy and show us what another viewpoint is. Most of all, stories teach us to reflect on who we are as individuals and what we can become.  For all these reasons, stories and storytelling are indispensable to adults and children alike. 

PublicDomainPictures / Pixabay

REFERENCES.
Cornet, C. E. (2014). Integrating the literary arts throughout the curriculum. In Creating meaning through literature and the arts: arts integration for Classroom teachers (5th ed,) (pp144-193) USA

Ross Johnston, R. (2014). Literary literacies: Digital, cultural, narrative, critical and deep literacies. In G. Winch, R. Ross Johnston, P. March, L. Ljungdahl & M. Holliday (Eds.), Literacy: Reading, writing and children’s literature (5th ed., pp. 556). Retrieved from Proquest Ebook Central.

 

The good, the bad and the ugly of Roald Dahl

Authors are magicians. 

pendleburyannette / Pixabay  – Magician or Author

 

They capture your imagination with words and imagery. 

Similar to a siren singing her tune, an author draws the reader in with stories of heroes, villains, mysteries and magic.  There are several writers that come to mind when one thinks about  perspicacity at understanding a developing mind. Enid Blyton comes to my thoughts immediately, as it was her books of Faraway trees, Wishing Chairs, Mallory Towers and the adventurous children that beguiled and transformed me into a certifiable bookworm.  Other authors with these same mystical powers include Emily Rodda, A A Milne, Dr Seuss, C. S Lewis, Beatrix Potter, E.B White, Lewis Carrol, Eric Carle, Rick Riordan, J K Rowling and of course, Roald Dahl.

Dahl’s popularity has enthralled generations of children with his fantastical tales.  Even 30 years after the publication of perspicacious Matilda, the lure is still strong according to Kelly (2019) who recently published an article in the Sunday Times just short of the author’s birthdate.  Dahl’s books have inspired generations of children to read.  His stories of redemption and resilience appeal to both children and adults.  I found it particularly interesting that the books often seem to be narrated by the child protagonist.  By doing so, Dahl places the reader in the central position and thus immediately engages their interest.  The books often place the child in the role of an underdog and their eventual vanquishment of the bigger and older (usually an adult) enemy gives great satisfaction.  Darby (2016) believes that this narrative style is appealing to children as it makes them feel like “someone is in their court”.  

Studiolarsen / Pixabay – Victory at last

 

Some people assert that Dahl’s books are macabre and filled with violence, racial slurs, misogyny and vindictive behaviour.  Anderson (2016) argues that the books caused great disturbance among adult readers when they first started being published in the late 60’s. Stories where witches turn children into mice, people are fed worms and or eaten by giants, and let us not forget principals that swing cute girls by their hair like a discus and push children into nail studded cupboards.  

In fact, “James and the Giant Peach has been lambasted for its racism, profanity and sexual innuendo” Anderson (2016) states.  

punch_ra / Pixabay – Just Peachy

 

It appears Dahl was provoking everyone, as he offended numerous demographics in equal measure.  But I am starting to believe that the provocation is what lured children to read and re-read his books.  It was just that little bit naughty and disgusting. Just enough to make children feel superior and more wise than the character, but not too much as to disengage the reader.  Arguably this is probably what explains Dahl’s longevity as an author. Nice clean stories such as Wilder’s Little House series has its staunch clientele but it does lacks the Dahl’s drawcard in that the majority of children do not identify with these characters.  Kole (2018) suggests that it is when the reader can draw upon their own experience with the subject matter that engagement with the text occurs. This could be contended similar for L M Montgomery’s Anne or White’s Charlotte’s Web. All extremely well written and received books, but not as far reaching as Dahl.  Whilst their stories do have points of personal travail, they simply are not dark enough.  

KELLEPICS / Pixabay – Looking for the Bogeyman

 

This need for darkness is important for children’s literature

as Anderson (2016) and Kole (2018) further elucidate.  One can only think of the popularity of the Grimm fairy tales, Rowling’s Harry Potter, Collins ’Hunger Games and Meyer’s Twilight to realise that the desire for grim has not changed in centuries. The adage about literature reflecting life is the underlying support for this need for fear and fright in children’s books.  Stories of children overcoming great difficulty has the ability to build great resilience and empathy in the reader.  

johnhain / Pixabay – Empathy on your mind?

 

We are all aware of how reading builds empathy.  Readers identify with the characters in the story and thus the feelings from one are juxtaposition-ed on the other .  But reading fictitious stories of giants, witches and wizards, whilst unrealistic, also gives children an important cathartic release according to Bettelheim (2010).  Rochelle (1977) whilst dated, firmly believes that adults and children both require fantastical literature to interweave the complex strains of good and evil in humanity.  Fantastical tales give children innate strength to overcome hurdles life throws at them, no matter how bizarre it is (Kole, 2018).  Children are aware that these stories are unreal in the fantastical sense but the situation that the characters are facing are very real indeed (Rochelle, 1977). Wakefield (2014) agrees and points out that fairy tales are there to protect rather than terrify, as the protagonist is forced to seek inner strength to overcome the villain.  The stories illustrate that these situations can be overcome, and in that, give hope and possibly a way out. 

Fantastical tales are more than just entertainment.  In their own way, they give children (and adults) the ability to fight demons in both the real world and in their dreams. After all, the lives of children are not always filled with rainbows and unicorns.  Many children live in shadows. Reading stories such as Dahl’s encourage children (and adults) to go past their grim quagmire and find their inner strength.  

So this Roald Dahl day on September 13, read a fantastical story… and at the same time, gain some humanity.

References.

Anderson, H. (2016) The dark side of Roald Dahl. BBC Culture. Retrieved from http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20160912-the-dark-side-of-roald-dahl

Bettelheim, B (2010) The uses of enchantment; the meaning and importance of fairy tales. New York: Vintage Books. Vintage Edition. 

Darby, S. (2016). 15 Must read children’s authors. BNKIDS blog. [blog]. Retrieved from  barnesandnoble.com/blog/kids/15-must-read-childrens-authors/

Kelly, L. (2019). Roald Dahl clan to share £6m dividend from licensing rights. Sunday Times. Retrived from https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/roald-dahl-clan-to-share-6m-dividend-from-licensing-rights-bdtdt6qfd

Grinstead, R. (2016) Happy Roald Dahl day. Medium.com [blog]. Retrieved from https://medium.com/@rhysgrinstead/its-roald-dahl-day-here-s-how-he-influenced-me-844a4e75bc19

Kole, K. (2018). The role of fairy tales in affective learning: Enhancing adult literacy and learning in FE and community settings. Australian Journal of Adult Learning, 58(3), 365-389. Retrieved from https://search-proquest-com.ezproxy.csu.edu.au/docview/2250950746?accountid=10344

Rochelle, L. (1977). The search for meaning through fantasy. The English Journal.  Vol. 66, No. 7, pp 54-55.  Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/814365

Wakefield, M. (2014). Why scary fairy stories are the best. The Spectator.