How to Raise a Reader, Part 2

Okay, so little Chumleigh or Dot can read, but he/she doesn't love it. How can you make your child (or student) love books?

You can't. Can you make me love football? No. We are all different and, theoretically at least, we appreciate that, right? Richness and variety and all that jazz (which I'm not so fond of. I prefer pop, to be honest). Yeah, well, we love the diversity of life until someone we love doesn't love what we love. Did you follow that? I love romance novels, therefore my daughter must love romance novels. I keep giving them to her, but she just won't give them a chance. I know as soon as she does, she'll love them, just like I do. Right? Meanwhile she wastes her time on short stories. What's up with that? You get no time to fall into the story and it's over. Ick.

Do you understand how ridiculous my position is? You can't make your child love reading just because you do, or even worse, just because you think they "should."

Stories on the other hand -- well, I believe story is one of the strategies humans use to make sense of the world. Luckily there are plenty of places to get stories outside of books: music, movies, theater, tv, jokes, video games, art, play, storytelling. The list goes on and on. Encourage telling stories with your children -- tell stories to them, help them tell their own, talk about the stories in songs or games, talk through what's going on with LEGO and building blocks and cooking and dress-up and . . . and . . . and.

It's true that in our culture reading fluently is crucial. I'll admit that. The way to become fluent is to practice. So the way I interpret that first question -- how do I make my kids love reading -- is to ask how do I get my kids to read more, to read fluently? Choice. See "How to Raise a Reader, part 1."

Thanks to J.K. Rowling, fantasy reigns right now in the publishing world. That's okay. So what if little Chumleigh won't read anything else? Who's he hurting? If you want him to try a little historical fiction, read it out loud to him. Invest your own time, if it's that important to you. Don't ask him to give up what little choice and free time he has just because you want to expose him to historical fiction.

What if little Dot doesn't read in her spare time at all? Is she a fluent reader? If so, then who's she hurting? If she isn't, you making her read a whole book isn't going to help. Meet her where she is -- soccer rules, iPad user guide, song lyrics, blogs, even -- gasp -- gaming cheat codes. Talk about what you are reading; share recommendations and listen to hers. Share your stories with your kids and ask them to share theirs with you.

In short, relax. Enjoy your children and students. Talk about and share stories, encourage them and trust them to find out for themselves what they love and why.

How to Raise a Reader, Part 1

As school librarians, we are often asked how to make kids read more. Here's my answer based on years in a school library as well as having raised three grown children who all love to read. The most important thing is choice. Let them read what they want. I'm going to say that again.

Let. Them. Read. What. They. Want.

Got it? That means if they love to read comic books, let them read comic books. If they will only read horse stories, let them read horse stories.

If you are concerned that your child won't try anything new, remember that reading is a hard skill to learn and  practice makes perfect. They are practicing. Familiarity with the plot or format means at least one less thing to worry about as they read. Have some faith that your child's reading tastes will progress. Honestly, do you know any adults who still read the Hardy Boys for their own pleasure?

Absolutely introduce new stuff. Make variety available by borrowing library materials on your own account. You must be willing to invest your own time and resources in this endeavor, or your child will wonder just how valuable it is. Read new books or genres out loud to them. Miss Manners had a brilliant strategy to get kids to read: read out loud to them until you get to a cliff hanger, then perkily say, "Okay. Lights out." Of course you have to make sure they have a working flashlight first.

I'm a big advocate of reading aloud, but it's important that it is pleasurable for both parties. Years ago, I had read three Redwall books by Brian Jacques out loud to my then 9-, 10- and 12-year-old children. It was great; I did the voices and we relished every feast day menu, going so far as to plan our own, until they realized Deeper-n-Ever Pie was made out of vegetables. By the end of number four, the fun had worn off for me and I told them it was time to read them themselves. "But," whined my 9-year-old, "I can't read that well." "You're going to want to practice then," I said without pity. There were just so many great stories to share with my kids, I didn't want to spend any time on books that weren't fun for me too.

Read aloud with your kids as long as they will let you and schedules permit. I'm pretty sure that we read our last novel together the summer my oldest son got his driver's license, but 15 years later we still take turns reading aloud picture books on Christmas Eve.

If you need strategies for opening up a non-reader's mind to new stories, try making bargains -- "I'll read Knuffle-Bunny (even if it's for the umpteenth time), if I also get to read one chapter of The Children of Noisy Village." The bargain must be reasonable (i.e. one chapter, not the whole book) and you must have read Knuffle-Bunny or whatever so often that you both have it memorized. Trust that their tastes will change, and that all too soon you'll be wishing you had even one more snuggle with a contented, sleepy preschooler and Mo Willems.

The point is that when reading is pleasurable, they do it and they'll keep doing it. Kids stop reading because it becomes work: textbooks and class reading and beautiful passages analyzed to within an inch of their lives. Of course there are things that we have to read, but that's not what makes us fluent. Being fluent is what allows us to read the necessary stuff. Encourage reading fluency in your children by honoring their choices.

Comfort Reading

What do you turn to when you need comforting? I'm partial to re-reading a familiar book. A book that will delight, but not surprise me. It can have a bittersweet ending (84, Charing Cross Road, by Helen Hanff) or be unabashedly romantic (Beauty, by Robin McKinley). It can be heartbreakingly sad (Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams) or laugh-out-loud funny (Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott). I'm going to choose the book depending on whether I need tears or laughter, and I'm going to get what I need. Predictability is key with comfort reading.

I have to love the main character, and I do mean LOVE. I have to know who that person is and that this ending is right for them at this point in their life. In Izzy, Willy Nilly, by Cynthia Voigt, the protagonist is a 15-year-old cheerleader squarely on her way to becoming one of the popular kids. A single date with a senior changes everything and propels her development from shallow Izzy who chooses to go out with a boy for the status to Isobel, a young woman learning who she is apart from friends and family. She doesn't "get the guy" in the end. No, she gets something more; she gets what she needs -- herself.

Humor is good. It can alleviate whatever it is I'm distressed about, and even my saddest comfort reads have moments with laughter, for example Carol Shields's Unless. Reta Winters is a successful translator and author whose oldest daughter disappears. As Reta tries to make sense of her daughter's choices she views them through the lens of her own experience and blames the patriarchy. Peppered throughout the story are the scathing letters Reta has written but not sent, hilariously pointing out the idiocy of our blatantly sexist culture.

A couple movies have sneaked onto my comfort list -- I adore Jane Austen. I've read her novels several times each, but when I'm depressed she's little too much work. So then I pull out Persuasion with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds. Anne Eliot's transformation from worn spinster to vital and desirable woman is subtly and masterfully portrayed by Root. It's not that Anne changes; no, she is steadfast. It is that the people around her (and the viewer) begin to recognize her depth. Closeups of hands and shifting focal points heighten tensions, felt but unspoken. I know everyone thinks Colin Firth is THE quintessential Austen hero, but I'll take Hinds as Captain Wentworth any day. All action and certainty only barely concealing devastating heartache.

I've experienced every one of these stories -- watched, read or listened to -- too many times to count. And every time they help me through whatever emotional wreckage I'm mired in. It's the familiarity, the absolute rightness of the ending, the humor that helps me through . . . and it's allowed me to stop sucking my thumb.

The statistical improbability of young love lasting

Having just read two well-written YA romances, I am thinking about what it is about young love that transports saps romantics like me. Almost certainly, the strength of the attraction is heightened by its novelty, and I think adults like to be reminded of how that first experience with love felt. Look at Romeo and Juliet. He's someone who wants to be in love, right? When we first meet him he's pining over some other girl and only goes to the party to catch a glimpse of her. Romeo's infatuation with Rosaline pales to what he feels for Juliet. Yes, the language is poetic, there's humor and drama, unforgettable characters -- all the things that make Shakespeare great. And added to that is the amazing rush of young love which we have experienced and crave.

So I get why grown-ups love these books, but why do we write them for teens? It's not like we want to encourage them to settle down with the first person they love. I would never dismiss those intense feelings as puppy love, and I'm not the most experienced 58-year-old, but I do know that a deep and abiding attachment is not always enough for a lifetime of living together. In If You Come Softly by Jacquelyn Woodson, Ellie says, "I think only once in your life do you find someone that you say, 'Hey, this is the person I want to spend the rest of my time on this earth with.' And if you miss it, or walk away from it, or even maybe, blink -- it's gone." She's 18; she gets to think that, but I hope the reader can understand it's coming from a very limited perspective.

The first novel I remember reading about teenagers falling in love and trying to make that love last was Mr. and Mrs. Bo Jo Jones. I know -- excellent title. It's by Ann Head and was written in the late 60s, pre-Roe vs. Wade. July and Bo Jo are high school sweethearts who become pregnant and decide to raise their baby together. Bo Jo gives up his college scholarship; July drops out of school. They are still, intentionally, together at the end of the book, but they are also still teenagers, so who can say what the next 5-10 years will bring?

Well, whatever, I still love these stories. I love being swept away by the rush of emotion. It should have more than just that going on, of course -- Shakespeare's language, Woodson's characters -- but I love being reminded how I felt that first time. That people are nicer, that colors are brighter, that everything will work out fine.

Here's my top please-let-them-make-it list in YA:

If You Come Softly, by Jacquelyn Woodson
Impossible, by Nancy Werlin
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, by Jennifer E. Smith
Eleanor & Park, by Rainbow Rowell

What would you add?