And, I don’t read “girl books”
I never considered myself a “writer for girls.” Yet when approaching schools for a visit there are rare occasions when I’m asked: “What about the boys?” I have a problem with this. The questioner assumes boys can’t, or don’t read my books because the main characters are girls and/or because they’re written by a woman. It also assumes boys won’t want to attend a presentation from an award-winning female writer who writes books with female main characters. I think this assumption is wrong, and I’m basing it on my own preferences:
- I read and enjoyed Jack Reacher and Harry Bosch books even though I was never in the military and I’m not a detective.
- I read and enjoyed The Number One Ladies Detective Agency and The Color Purple, but I’m neither Botswanan or Black.
- I read and enjoyed James and the Giant Peach, but I’m not a kid and I’ve never been inside a peach.
- I read and enjoyed Harry Potter, and I’m not a boy, not a kid, and not a wizard.
- I read and enjoy Findlay Donovan Findlay and the author are white women like me.
Do you see my point? A book’s main character or author’s gender doesn’t determine whether I like a book. Gender also doesn’t determine if I’d like to see the author’s presentation, and I’ve attended many presentations.
Sometimes I like to read about worlds unlike my own, people unlike me, and adventures I’ll never go on. And sometimes I like to read about people and circumstances that are close enough to me that I can imagine what it would be like to experience that book’s adventure.
It’s about choice. Sometimes I’m in a James and the Giant Peach mood, and sometimes I want Jack Reacher. Similarly, some days I want strawberry ice cream and sometimes I feel like Rocky Road.
I believe in encouraging and inspiring kids, tweens, and teens to read books regardless of the author or main character’s gender. I understand that this topic easily transitions to book banning, which I also oppose, but that’s a topic for another day.
What have you read that you’re not “supposed to” want to read?
I’ve never had a problem with what I /should/ read, but I’ll confess that there are some books that, having read, I’ve felt uncomfortable about. “The Forgotten Beasts of Eld”, by Patricia A. McKillip, for one, and your own “My Big Heart-Shaped Fail”. I didn’t think them bad, not at all, but they made me feel like Actæon, or Clodius Pulcher sneaking into the rites of the Bona Dea, or a boy who has drilled a hole into the girls’ locker room. “You’re not supposed to be here; you’re not supposed to be seeing this; you’re not supposed to be hearing this. Get your big, stupid male nose out of what isn’t your business!”
It doesn’t mean I don’t adore Jane Austen or “Gaudy Night”—or “Just Add Magic”—but sometimes it happens.
(Full disclosure: I’m 74, and I’ve been happily married for 38 years.)
For whatever it’s worth.
Hi John, Thank you for your interest and for reaching out with this comment. Perhaps in most books we readers are meant to be a type of voyeur? I like this insight. Have a great day. Best, Cindy