It would be "such a shame" to get published.
Ah, well. We kid lit types must suffer for our art.
Showing posts with label kid lit: no respect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kid lit: no respect. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Maybe Some Day I'll Try to Write a REAL Book
Today's Washington Post Book World has a terrific piece by Lois Lowry, "The Writing Life: In Which a Chronic Liar Grows Up to Be a Celebrated Children's Author." Lowery's article on her childhood proclivity for creating "fiction" is funny and enlightening, a celebration of storytelling in its purist form.
The accompanying sidebar, "Lois Lowery: Making It New," written by Maria Arana, details Lowery's biography and her prolific writing career as evidenced by her 30 published books, including two Newbery winners.
A full page in the Post Book World devoted to a children's writer! Heaven on newsprint for someone like me.
Er, until the second-to-last paragraph of the sidebar, in which Arana for some reason feels compelled to ask: "Has she ever contemplated writing a novel for grown-ups?"
Huh? Am I being sensitive or does that question discount this woman's vocation (and avocation) of writing for children? Why do some people, including perhaps this Washington Post Book World reporter, seem to think "real authors" must write for adults?
Bravo to Lois Lowery for her response to this bit of idiocy: "I'm doing something far more valuable, writing for someone who is wide open -- aged somewhere between 10 and 14. I'm preparing kids to enter the difficult world of contemporary times."
One wonders if Lowery had to bite her tongue to give that answer. She is a better woman than I.
The accompanying sidebar, "Lois Lowery: Making It New," written by Maria Arana, details Lowery's biography and her prolific writing career as evidenced by her 30 published books, including two Newbery winners.
A full page in the Post Book World devoted to a children's writer! Heaven on newsprint for someone like me.
Er, until the second-to-last paragraph of the sidebar, in which Arana for some reason feels compelled to ask: "Has she ever contemplated writing a novel for grown-ups?"
Huh? Am I being sensitive or does that question discount this woman's vocation (and avocation) of writing for children? Why do some people, including perhaps this Washington Post Book World reporter, seem to think "real authors" must write for adults?
Bravo to Lois Lowery for her response to this bit of idiocy: "I'm doing something far more valuable, writing for someone who is wide open -- aged somewhere between 10 and 14. I'm preparing kids to enter the difficult world of contemporary times."
One wonders if Lowery had to bite her tongue to give that answer. She is a better woman than I.
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