Michael Chabon, Neil Gaiman, Edwidge Danticat, and Carl Hiassen are four of a dozen well-known authors who published young adult novels this year. They write much better than celebrity authors, whose fame also leads to immediate publication. But their insecurities about writing for younger audiences have negative effects on their novels.
All but one of these authors flounder because they assume they should write differently for children. In their desire to reach young adults these authors forget some basic principles of good writing. Authors of books for every age should: show, not tell; refrain from preaching and lecturing; harness imagination so the story is believable, and never (especially in the case of young adults) suck up to readers!
In Summerland (Hyperion, $22.95 ; ages 10 and up), Michael Chabon mixes the symbolism of baseball and the myths of many cultures. His hero, young Ethan Feld, is in transition. His mother dead, Ethan and his inventor father are newly arrived in Summerland, Washington. Summerland is a magical place where the sun always shines and baseball is big. Ethan's not good at baseball. He learns under pressure when he enters a parallel world with a feisty teammate, Jennifer T. He must outplay the trickster, Coyote, to save his father and the world.
There are brilliant lines and the classic good and evil theme works well. The dialogue, especially Coyote's, sparkles and defines character wonderfully. But Chabon's 500 page book feels as if it was written by a man restrained by reality for too many years. There's an appearance by every magical creature you can imagine. There are ghosts, giants, tall-tale heroes, ferishers (Native American fey folk), goblins, a Sasquatch, werebeasts, changelings, and more! Each character comes with explanations as complicated as a baseball manual. Their legends mix with Chabon's reinventions in a mishmash of magic. Chabon's razzle dazzle and excess references overwhelm rather than convince.
Celiane Esperance is the heroine of Edwidge Danticat's Behind the Mountains (Scholastic, $16.96; ages 11-13). Celiane's father has left his family in Haiti to seek a better life for them in NYC. When his wife and daughter are nearly killed in an explosion, he sends for them immediately. Celiane has a tough transition.
Danticat has a split-personality when she writes for children. On one hand, she trusts their sophistication and intelligence enough to give them the full beauty of her prose. Celiane writes in her journal, "My Pen is your tongue and I am your voice so you will never betray my secrets." You accept her rather-adult metaphors and perceptions because she's a bright viewpoint character. Besides, the words are so lovely.
Just when you're swept up in her prose, Danticat sticks in clunky hunks of information. Celiane writes, "I learned from my geography lesson that the name of this country, Haiti,comes from the Awawak Indian word Ayiti, which means mountainous land or land on high." Paragraphs of definition shatter Danticat's lyricism to fill children in on the Day of the Dead, or the 1987 election in Haiti. Beautiful proverbs seem sprinkled just a bit too liberally when Danticat feels she must explain them. The duel between Danticat's musical writing and her didactics results in a jarring read.
Neil Gaiman creates Coraline (Morrow, $15.99; ages 10 and up).Coraline is a plucky heroine who saves the day in this spooky story. At the book's beginning she describes herself as bored. Her parents mean little to her until they're parent-napped by the Other Mother. The Other Mother is really an evil force who exists in a frightening parallel world. She resembles Coraline's mother except she's got black buttons sewn into her eyes and has a habit of stealing humans just for the thrill of it. Coraline, adept at adventuring, overcomes this powerful force by using her wiles and wit.
Gaiman wrote this novel years ago, but it was judged too frightening for children. It isn't. Gaiman was right to trust children's steel nerves. Too bad he didn't trust them. Plunging directly into his story would have won young readers over quickly. Instead, they must wade through the Gaiman's child-phobic preamble. He spends almost a third of the book getting chummy with children.
Gaiman works to win his audience, with comments like "Coraline knew that when adults told you it wouldn't hurt, it almost always did." The adult characters are paper-thin stereotypes of disinterested grownups. Coraline's parents are narcissistic and show little emotional attachment to their child. Not that she deserves it. In the book's beginning, Coraline's only use for her parents is their satisfaction of her every whim. This brattiness is the counterpoint for Coraline's growth, but will readers get through the first part of the book? If Gaiman was really buddy-buddy with children, he'd know they have no compunction at closing an uninteresting book quickly.
Carl Hiaasen masters the genre best in his literary romp, Hoot (Knopf, $15.98, ages 9 and up). Children will relate to his hero, Roy Eberhardt. Roy, new to Florida and middle school, runs into a nasty bully the first time he takes the school bus. He's moved a lot and is used to these situations, so he stares out the window and dreams of his Montana past. Then, he sees a mysterious figure--a boy running barefoot with such speed and agility, Roy's fascinated and decides he must find out about this strange child. Hiaasen plays another successful kid-card when he sets up this mystery.
The child is Mullet Hands, an young outlaw who can catch fish in his bare hands, escape bumbling law officials, and won't tell anyone his name. Mullet Hands is determined to protect owls endangered by the construction of a Mother Paula's Pancake House. Hiaasen most definitely has a message. But it's integral to the way Roy grows and changes and mystery definitely comes before moral. Hiassen has kid-speak right. He sees humor easily and knows about bullies. And what child wouldn't love a book where the mysterious underdog places alligators in the bad guys' porta-potty?
Hiassen succeeds so well, he should give his colleagues a little free advice. His fellow authors don't need much, just a reminder to follow the rules that have given them recognition. After all, they probably wouldn't put up with much. Adults like lecturing even less than young adults.
Isabel Allende's main character , Alexander (named after her grandson), is the hero of City of the Beasts (HarperCollins, 19.99; ages 10 and up). When Alexander's close family falls apart because of his mother's cancer, he's shipped off to travel the Amazon with his eccentric grandmother. Alex discovers magical people and places, as well as ancient wisdom and his own strength. Allende's fantasy is somewhat message-bound, but it's more restrained and purposeful than Chabon's.
Joyce Carol Oates' Big Mouth & Ugly Girl (HarperCollins, $16.99; ages 10 and up )stars two characters. Matt Donaghy (Big Mouth) is a young boy who uses humor to amuse his friends until his jokes about blowing up the school are taken seriously. Ursula Riggs (Ugly Girl) speaks in Matt's defense because it's the right thing to do. Other characters are cast as bad, shallow people who are there only to provide a flat backdrop so you notice Oates' noble protagonists.