YA Historical Fiction: An Opinion

There isn’t enough new YA historical fiction. I was told, at a recent writing conference, that in general, the only YA historical fiction novels being sold today are earlier classics.

Of course this is an exaggeration. But sadly, not much of one.

I’d like to make an argument for more YA HF.

Look at the books that are selling.

Dystopian fiction. On topics like war, plague, social class conflict.

Hello? All this exists in historical fiction.

I recently read the novel How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff. It reminded very much of a paperback book I read in middle school about two teens knocking around London during the Blitz.

At the Whidbey Island Writers Conference this past week, one of the writers participating in my Create Your Own Character class invented a character who had lost his family during the Plague.

The rest of us weren’t certain whether it was set in the past or in the future.

I LOVE YA historical fiction.

I remember falling in love with Ann Rinaldi’s The Last Silk Dress. And Eloise Jarvis McGraw’s Mara, Daughter of the Nile. And Sally Watson’s Witch of the Glens. I read Johnny Tremain twice in a row in the seventh grade and yet again before the class test. I’ve read Margaret by Jane Claypool Miner at least seven times and Bargain Bride by Evelyn Sibley Lampman just as often. I read the entire Sunfire series back in high school (all thirty-two books). And quite a number of other teen paperback HF series as well.

YA historical fiction introduced me to the tragedies of the Johnstown Flood, the Great London Fire, and, of course, the chaos of Tudor-era England. Authors like Linda Crew introduced me to local history. And I set my travel itinerary of dreams based on my favorite novels. Places I would love to see: Egypt, Boston, The Great Glen.

History, I believe, is an even richer and more vibrant world than the greatest fantasy. Because there are always more layers. More relationships. And more ways to tell the story. More voices that have never been heard.

And teenagers! Teens were the adventurers of the past. The slaves, sailors, soldiers, and southern belles. Sacagawea was 16 during the Lewis & Clark Expedition! Lady Jane Gray was 17 when she was named queen. And executed. Clara Barton began teaching school at 17. And of course, hundreds of thousands of soldiers in many, many wars throughout history, have been teenagers.

So I’d just like to offer my thanks to the authors and publishers who are writing & printing new YA historical fiction.

People like . . .

Mary Hooper

Susanne Dunlap

And Ruth Tenzer Feldman

And to say that we, the YA audience, are definitely up to the challenge of reading more!

Happiness is . . .

An orange kitten curled under your chin
A gray mama cat sleeping on your feet
A winter’s morning cup of hot chocolate

Freedom

To plan the day, the week, your life however you see fit.
Then mess it up.
And mix it up.
And . . .

Sending you all over to read the rest on my friend Elizabeth's blog. She sponsored a whole month of "Happiness is . . ." posts by female voices.
http://www.elizabethfarrar.com/2012/01/happiness-is.html

The Battle Scene: The Hazards of Listening to Your Source

My main character and I have just conquered our first battle scene.

This challenge made me nervous. While I am a fan of epic battles in fantasy—especially the one in King’s Shield by Sherwood Smith (If you have not read that book, you are missing out on one of the most amazing battle scenes in fantasy literature), I am not a great fan of wartime nonfiction.

My "Source," however, whom I introduced to you in a previous blog, has probably read ninety percent of the non-fiction Civil War and World War II books currently published.

Naturally, I called my Source. “Hello,” I said, “So I’m writing a battle scene and this is what I think should happen. Yada yada—”

The Source interrupted. “I don’t they would really do that—”

“Oh,” I said.

“This is what they would do,” said the Source.

“Oh,” I said again. “I suppose that would be the clever way to do it. But what about . . .”

“No,” said the Source. “They wouldn’t want to do that.”

“Oh,” I said again. “But I can have this, right? And this? And this?”

“I suppose,” said the Source.

“But I have to change this?”

“I’m not telling you that you have to change anything. I’m just telling you how someone in that situation would have fought the battle.”

“Oh, but—”

And at this point my Source had had enough and hung up the phone.

Drat. You see, I always draft a scene first before consulting my source. (There’s no point in pestering someone about a scene until you actually know you want to keep it). And I was feeling pretty good about the chapter. Before that phone call.

This was going to be a major revision. Which one never wants to do, but one feels like one should. Otherwise why consult the expert?

So . . . I rewrote the scene.

It didn’t work. You see the problem was that the general within my book is not an expert. In fact he isn’t a general at all, but someone given the title of “captain.” And he wouldn’t fight this battle like an expert. If he did, he might have a chance to win. And I don’t want him to.

He is going to die.

Which is exactly how my chapter felt after I rewrote it.

Dead.

Nine days on the same twelve-page chapter, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. I was frustrated. My source wouldn’t talk about it anymore. And my main character was furious.

Finally I consulted my other main character. You see this hadn’t occurred to me because this character isn’t in the scene. He is off suffering emotional damage and other tragic events during this battle. He doesn’t show up until after it’s over.

“At which point,” he told me, “I am appalled by how stupidly this battle was fought.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Oh! I realized. I don’t have to fight the battle the way the experts would have fought it. I just have to let this character explain afterwards how they should have fought it.

I scrapped the whole revision, and wrapped up the chapter in twenty-four hours.

Always consult your other main character.

Kidnapped!

Clearly, I have been kidnapped.

"By what?” you might ask, as you have undoubtedly noticed my pathetic failure to blog over the past month.

I could lie. I could accuse sixth graders, the flu, or fall report cards.

I could even be more creative by accusing Title I meetings, state testing trainings, make-up conferences, collecting special materials for students’ Egypt projects, pre-observation forms, fighting with the copy machine, post-observation meetings, SIOP inservices, cutting squares for Roman mosaics, IEPs, baking chocolate chip cookies for family meetings, or ordering flashcards.

“You could not,” Aurelia says, “I would never allow you to neglect our blog on account of these trifling excuses. Tell them what you have been kidnapped by.”

Ambition.

This year I am both a freelance writer and a freelance teacher (a profession often maligned & more often described as “substitute teaching”). Ultimately, this frees me to do a lot more writing-related teaching, writing events, and venturing into the great unknown.

AKA earning more writing-related income.

Sadly, blogging does not fall under this category and has, therefore, been woefully neglected as I work my way up the steep learning curve of applying for writing events, following-up on e-mails, signing contracts, and even braving the world of subbing in kindergarten—yikes!

However, fear not! My characters have been collecting plenty of ideas for us to blog about in the future.

See you again soon!