Tag Archive: young adults
By Melissa L.
When a fellow children’s author asked for a book set in ancient Rome and no one could recommend anything suitable, I began to think about periods and places that are underrepresented in historical fiction for kids. A few that immediately come to mind include:
- Ancient Rome, Greece, and Persia. (Especially Persia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a children’s book about that.)
- The Americas before 1492.
- Africa, in any time period.
- China, in any time period.
- The 1960’s and 1970’s (the Vietnam era)
I do think that more Vietnam-era books will be published as we move away from that time and begin to think of it more as history than as living memory. The other places and eras, I’m not as confident about—but they need to be there. China, for example, is a nation that’s quickly becoming a major world player, and a place that young readers definitely need to be introduced to. While the region’s ancient culture could make a great base for historical fiction, there just isn’t much out there.
But would books about these yet-unknown places ever sell? I think they would. As our world becomes increasingly global, schools are focusing more and more on teaching about all regions of the world, not just Western Europe. If you could write a high-quality book about Africa or Asia, I’ll bet teachers and librarians would buy it.
So what areas do you feel are underrepresented in children’s and YA historical fiction? Is there a market for such books?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
By Patricia Elliott
My novel, The Pale Assassin
, is set during the French Revolution. As a writer, what fascinated me during my research was the discovery of how many contradictions this extraordinarily dramatic period contained.
The complex character of the king, Louis XVI: compassionate, but blind to the suffering of his people. His queen, Marie-Antoinette: vain and extravagant, yet one who endured her imprisonment with great fortitude. Then the aristocrats, privileged and wealthy, yes, but many of whom actively supported the introduction of a constitution that would bring equality and the end of the corrupt ancien regime.
Foremost among them was the Marquis de Condorcet, who drafted the first constitution, basing it on the Declaration of Independence – it is said with the help of George Washington. And Robespierre, the most powerful man in the new Republic, who lived a life of moral purity, yet was the cold-blooded architect of the Terror, when thousands were guillotined in order to preserve a “republic of virtue.” The Terror itself was sanctioned by a government paranoid about the enemy within, for, as Jefferson is believed to have said, “The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.” But the majority of the Terror’s victims were not the hated aristocracy but the ordinary, innocent people of France.
Lastly, the most tragic and ironic paradox of all was that in order to uphold the ideals of “liberty, equality and fraternity,” the revolutionaries resorted to a ruthless denial of human rights that was to have its echo down the ages.
Patricia Elliott’s novels for young adults have received critical acclaim. Her newest novel is The Pale Assassin.
Visit her website at patriciaelliott.co.uk.
By Melissa L.
Over the years, I’ve noticed that a lot of the books that have won the Newbery Award (the most prestigious award in children’s literature) are historical fiction. Exactly half of the ten most recent award-winners were historical novels. And while 2010’s Newbery medalist isn’t historical, two of the honor books are—The Mostly True Adventures of Homer P. Figg and The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate.
Why is historical fiction so overrepresented among Newbery winners? Historical titles definitely don’t constitute half of all the books being published, or half the books that customers buy. Some people might argue that the number has to do with the Newbery’s selection process: Winners are chosen by a committee of librarians, who tend to be more partial to historical fiction than the rest of the population.
I think the reason runs deeper than that, though. When you write historical fiction, you have to review your text over and over again just to get your facts straight. And as you go over every single word so many times, your writing improves, too. The eventual result is a highly polished, well-written book.
This isn’t to say that writers in other genres can’t revise extensively and create beautiful stories. They can and they do. But extensive research and revision is a more necessary part of historical fiction, and overall I think this leads to better books.
Why do you think so many Newbery winners are historical? Is it because of the selection process, the quality of the writing, or both? Or is it another factor?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
By Melissa L.
At the end of each year, School Library Journal publishes a list of the best books for children and young adults. I was heartened to see that on the 2009 list, fourteen of the fifty-four featured titles were history or historical fiction—that’s about 26%. While that might not seem like an impressive number, it’s definitely better than 2008, when historical titles made up only 18% of this special list.
These statistics tell me that 2009 was a year when lots of great historical titles were being published—and, more importantly, that many of them were being recognized as some of the year’s most outstanding books. History and historical fiction are genres that often don’t get a lot of attention (except, of course, on Wonders & Marvels). By placing so many of these titles on their list, the editors of School Library Journal are giving them the recognition they deserve.
Furthermore, wider recognition for historical titles can also lead to a wider audience. The editors and reviewers for School Library Journal are mostly librarians, and if they’re recognizing these titles for their excellence, they’re probably also buying them to put on their shelves. The more these books are in the libraries, the more they can get into the hands of young people.
What do you think about the year 2009 in history and historical fiction? Were there any titles that were especially great? And finally, what more do you hope to see in 2010?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
IMAGE:
By Melissa L.
The diary is a narrative form that’s especially popular in historical fiction for children. The best-known example is probably the Dear America series, which was published by Scholastic in the late 1990’s. The format is very difficult to pull off—your narrator’s voice has to be perfect, and since you’re writing about specific days in history, attention to detail is vital. Still, I personally enjoy diary stories if they’re done well.
I’ve met some librarians and history teachers, though, who don’t care for this format. One teacher told me that she didn’t want her students, who were learning about primary and secondary sources, to read the Dear America books. She was afraid the kids wouldn’t realize that the novels were fiction and would confuse them with actual primary sources.
Personally, I think that children who are old enough to be reading novels like Dear America should be able to understand the books aren’t real diaries, though teachers should definitely clear this up if it’s confusing. I also think that these books provide a valuable historical experience for kids. Young readers may not be quite ready to tackle the archaic spelling and grammar of many primary sources—but a mock diary written in more modern language can still give them a good feel for the times.
So what do you think about the diary format for historical fiction? Is it confusing for kids? Is it a good way to teach history? Or is it just another way to tell a story?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
IMAGE: Courtesy of Wikipedia public domain
By Melissa L.
Today I’m going to continue last week’s post on language in historical fiction. You’d think that after deciding what to do about foreign words in your novel, you’re pretty much safe. You can just write the rest of your novel in regular English, right? Well, not exactly.
A few years ago, an editor critiquing one of my historical novels said she felt the characters sounded too contemporary. Specifically, she had a problem with their use of contractions. I eventually chose to leave most of the dialogue intact, but her comments made me think: How do you translate a foreign language into English so that it sounds right for the time period? In other words, how do you make your characters understandable without making them sound too modern?
Almost all writers will agree that modern slang has no place in historical novels, but there are many areas where language is much fuzzier. For example, in any language, there are ways for people to drop syllables, run words together, and in general speak more casually than they do in formal situations. Are these speech patterns contractions as we understand them in English? Probably not. But in a novel written in English, I do feel they can translate into contractions on the page. Still, I don’t use contractions as liberally in historical novels as I would in a contemporary setting. I also find that overall, my historical characters tend to sound a little more stilted.
So what’s the best way to handle these language problems in historical fiction? How do you communicate that your characters are regular people speaking in a casual setting without making them sound too much like modern Americans? It’s quite a dilemma, but I’m sure there are many ways to solve it. What do you think?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
By Melissa L.
Language is a really tricky issue in historical fiction. The point of historical novels is to transport your readers to another place and time, but chances are good that people in that place and time didn’t speak English. You have to communicate whatever language they did speak while not confusing your readers.
There are a couple of ways you can deal with the language issue in a historical novel. Some authors choose not to use any foreign words at all. The characters certainly don’t talk like modern Americans—their language tends to be more formal and stilted—but even if they’d speak Chinese or Latin in real life, the novel is entirely in English.
Personally, I dislike this approach—I think language is an essential part of a historical setting. I prefer to pick a few key words and phrases (five or six at most) and repeat them throughout the story. If there aren’t too many words, and if you clearly define them in context, your readers will understand them fine. Some authors use a larger number of foreign words and provide a glossary at the back of the novel. This technique can work, but I’m not overly fond of it because I find it annoying to flip to the back of the book every time I come across a word I don’t know.
So what do you think is the best way to cope with foreign languages in historical fiction? Should you use foreign words, and if so, how should you communicate what they mean? Or is it better to just abandon foreign vocabulary altogether and let the language come through in another way?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
By Ann Burg
I grew up during the Vietnam War. Veins stuck out of people’s neck when they argued, and sometimes those peaceful demonstrators with flowers in their hair seemed the angriest of them all. My high school pep rallies often turned into peace rallies. Instead of cheering, we’d sing “All We Are Saying Is Give Peace a Chance.” The evening news brought a series of maps and battles, punctuated by body bags and a never ending stream of angry protesters. I often wished I were a child of the fifties instead of the sixties, wearing bobby socks and white skirts with pink poodles on them. I gave my childhood to the Vietnam War, I sometimes lamented to myself.
Then one day when I was in my early twenties, I was walking through Washington Square Park, wearing my favorite blue cotton dress with the pinched waist. Under the arch sat a burly, wheel-chaired veteran. My clicking heels accentuated his uncovered leg stumps. Flashes from the TV screen flooded back. A village in flames. A soldier weeping. My face flushed with humiliation. I had given up nothing.
Writing All the Broken Pieces was like listening and jotting things down, or sitting at a loom and weaving together the frayed, forgotten strands of history. Hoping to create something worthwhile, something like a healing quilt.
Maybe that’s the best of what historical fiction does. Recreate a moment in history so that in remembering, we might find a way to heal the wounds.
Ann Burg is the author of All The Broken Pieces
, a young adult novel about a boy who was airlifted out of Vietnam.
By Melissa L.
On a discussion board for writers of historical fiction, I recently came across the question “What qualifies as historical?” It’s actually a lot trickier than it sounds. Everybody agrees that ancient Egypt and World War I are historical, but what about the Vietnam War? Where do we cross the line from history to modern times?
It’s always important to note that kids and adults have very different perceptions of history. You probably think of the events of September 11, 2001 as fairly recent, but the 8 to 12 year olds you’re writing for don’t remember that day—if they were even born. Furthermore, kids are learning about events like this in history class, and what seems like yesterday to you might as well be the Middle Ages to them.
At its most basic level, historical means “set in the past.” I take the definition one step further, saying that a book is only historical if it needs to be set in the past for the sake of the plot. If you’re writing about soldiers wounded in Vietnam, it’s fine to set your book in 1973 and say it’s historical. Similarly, if your plot cannot take place in any year other than 2001, I would call that a historical novel. What you should never do is set your book in the past because that’s when you were young and you don’t know what it’s like to be a kid today. If your story could take place in 2009 as easily as 1985, go do some research about the modern day.
In the end, we need to think about what the term “historical fiction” really means. Is it simply about the date? (And if it is, is there a particular year that should be considered a cutoff?) Or is it about the way the time relates to the story?
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
By Melissa L.
While we don’t have a specific title for today, here’s a look at an author we hope to feature soon at Wonders and Marvels.
Lisa Klein is the author of multiple novels for young adults. Her first book, Ophelia, retells the story of Hamlet through the eyes of his ill-fated lover, weaving in additional backstory while remaining relatively true to Shakespeare’s text. Her second novel, Two Girls of Gettysburg, shifts the focus to the American Civil War. Through the eyes of two vastly different cousins, this novel portrays the Battle of Gettysburg from both the Union and Confederate sides.
Klein’s third book, Lady Macbeth’s Daughter, will be officially released on October 13th. With this novel, she returns to the realm of Shakespeare retellings, this time centering on the premise that Macbeth and his wife had a daughter who was abandoned at birth. Raised by three strange sisters in the Wychelm Wood, Albia knows nothing of her real parents. But when her father, Macbeth, comes to seek knowledge of his fate, she is forced to make a series of painful choices.
Look for a guest post from Lisa soon at Wonders and Marvels!
Melissa L. is the YA Editorial Assistant for Wonders and Marvels. You can read more about her here: Editorial Staff.
438 members
