The Young Protagonist MUST Solve Their Own Problem

Another writing “principle” to question

photo by author

Back in the day, works for children were intended to be instructive — how to be in the world, AKA listen to the wise adults. In the past, many children’s books read more like historical Sunday School papers.

John Newbery (1713–1767), for whom the Newbery Medal is named, while still maintaining the didactic piece, added the idea of “play” to works for children. (Interestingly — sadly? — it was often in the form of what we would now call “merch.” It’s a slow evolution to joy.)

Often, in the sphere of writing and publishing for young people, I feel the (publishing) pressure to preach’n’teach. Writing for the young has always been politically charged — even as we go through times when we manage to pretend not so. (Alas, the alternative appears to be meaninglessness.)

Yet work that focuses on instruction of ‘how-to-be’ does nothing more than work that merely entertains — two extremes. Full-on entertainment and full-on didacticism.

The books that endure, though, tend to hold a sense of wonder, a sense of real inclusion, as in I have a place — and things to respond to and create — on this surprising, terrifying, and wondrous planet.