So do you reread your favorite books?

Charlotte had an interesting post up last week about rereading her mother's books and wondered if her sons will someday be rereaders as well:

I doubt my sons will ever want to read my collection of British Girls Books (although if they do, more power to them). But they will be reading their mother’s books, because I have cunningly put lots of them in their rooms already—all my Rosemary Sutcliffe, E. Nesbit, Edward Eager, Jean Craighead George, and many, many, more. I am a bit anxious, however, about the boys seizing my books through eminent domain and disappearing into their own adulthoods with them. But perhaps boys are different, and don’t take their childhood comfort reading off to college with them?

Which in turn leads me to wonder—do boys/men do the comfort re-reading thing in the same way that avid female readers do? My husband, the only male reader whose habits I know, does not. Certainly at this point in their young lives my sons have books that they want over and over again--will that stop?

I've been a rereader all my life but I don't know if my brother is. It's an interesting topic for all you males out there: do you return to favorite titles again and again?

So you want to rule the world ... Part 2: Amusing your minions

The heart of an inferior is always fascinated by a jest. Men know this in the knavery of elections.
Know it now, my pupils, in the knavery of life!
--Paul Clifford, Lord Litton*

Just slip on a banana peel
The world's at your feet
- “Make 'em laugh,” from Singing in the Rain

If you want to rule the world, you’re going to need minions.

And to get minions you need to be charismatic. Today’s minions don’t care about rugged good looks or fancy speeches. Today’s minions want to follow someone funny -- strangely, dangerously funny.

You don’t need a joke book. I’m sure you’re a genius with lots of very clever thoughts in your own brain. But you may need help getting that funny stuff out in a way that other people think is funny -- and not creepy.

You need to read Tricks of the Trade, edited by Jerry Dunn...

The idea here is that people who have perfected an art give you their secrets. Julia Child, for instance, tells you how to cook an egg.

There’s tons of useful information in the book, but what we’re interested in today are chapters from three very funny men -- Jonathan Winters, Steve Allen and Chevy Chase.

Jonathan Winters, who was strangely, dangerously funny before it was cool, has written “How to Improvise Humor:” ..you have to get over your fear of going downtown and acting funny. You have to be willing to gamble…

His chapter includes a real conversation he had with a taxi driver, which I won’t spoil here because it’s positively hilarious.

Sample tip: “Talk to yourself.”

The same book has a section on “How to be Funny” by Steve Allen. His suggestions are a lot more down to earth and you can put them to use right away.

Sample tip: Develop your own joke formula.

This really works. The formula I personally use is, “Sounds like my prom night.” It’s not funny here in print. But the next time someone mentions some sort of disaster, humiliation or revolting discovery, give it a try.

Lastly, we have Chevy Chase explaining “How to do a Pratfall.” This is an amazing chapter. He really spills the secrets here and reveals himself to be a true scholar of slapstick. Check out this tip for bumping into a coffee table: Always hit the leg of the table … with the toe of your shoe only. Hitting with your toe not only prevents injury to your shin, but also checks your motion, giving you some momentum that prompts the rest of your upper body to whip over the table.

This man is a genius. I’d quote more but you really need to read the chapter for yourself.

Tricks of the Trade also has a section called “Master of the Universe,” which among other things offers Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s lesson on the sky-hook. That will come in handy, too, when you’re playing HORSE with Bill Gates and Bono.

The book may be hard to find in stores, so check the library.

* Paul Clifford, by Lord Litton, is not a book I'd recommend, BUT in the appendix is something called: MAXIMS ON THE POPULAR ART OF CHEATING ... BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO THAT NOBLE SCIENCE BY WHICH EVERY MAN MAY BECOME HIS OWN ROGUE.

These cheats are actually more likely to be used by politicians than robbers. Following this list may actually lead to you ruling the world even faster than following my advice.

Superman Really Came from Cleveland: A Q & A with Author Marc Tyler Nobleman

Marc Tyler Nobleman has more than seventy books to his name, but lately he's into writing about the superhero underdogs of the world. And I don't mean this guy. I mean---as Marc puts it at his currently "superhero-centric" blog, Noblemania---his current writing interest focuses on those literary figures whose achievements are well-known but whose names and back stories are not.

Take his current title, Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman, illustrated by Ross MacDonald and published by Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers this month. Boys of Steel tells the tale of Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, two misfit teens living in Cleveland circa 1930. Both boys preferred escaping into science fiction worlds and the fellowship of fictional characters in pulp magazines and comic strips---more than socializing in their high school ("Most days, Jerry Siegel slipped into the halls of his high school staring at the floor. He always wished he were going in the other direction---back home"). Shy Jerry wrote his own adventure and science fiction stories (when he wasn't at the cinema), and Joe---also shy, also "mousy around girls," and someone who could have passed for his brother---illustrated them ("No matter the obstacle, Joe found a way to draw. When his family couldn't afford art paper, he made do with wrapping paper from the butcher or the back of discarded wallpaper").

In 1934, Joe and Jerry created a superhero who was everything they were not, crafting a "'science fiction story in cartoons.' It starred a brave, tough man who fought for truth and justice." Approximately four years later, they convinced a publisher to take a chance on their Man of Steel in a new format—the comic book. Superman debuted in 1938: "People wanted a hero they knew would always come home. Jerry and Joe gave them that---the world's first superhero." Nobleman includes an afterword about Siegel's and Shuster's long struggle with DC Comics after they realized they had made a mistake in selling all rights to Superman for only $130. Included in this afterword is the very recent (March 2008) landmark ruling, in which the Siegel family won back half the copyright to all the Superman material introduced in Action Comics #1.

Nobleman's book, to be released this week, has already met with a handful of starred reviews: Wrote Publishers Weekly, "{c}atering to comics junkies, this vibrant and well-researched picture book biography introduces the youthful inventors of Superman...Nobleman details this achievement with a zest amplified by MacDonald's...punchy illustrations, done in a classic litho palette of brassy gold, antique blue and fireplug red."

And in her detailed early-June review, Betsy Bird of A Fuse #8 Production over at School Library Journal wrote, "the next time you have a seven-year-old moaning about needing to read a biography make sure that this book is the ace up your sleeve." But, as I'm wont to do here at Guys Lit Wire, I argue that this is an engaging title for teens as well, especially those interested in comics -- and in those interested in illustration. MacDonald's work has an infectious energy, and---as Publishers Weekly pointed out about his 2002 title, Another Perfect Day (Roaring Book Press)---his design is clean, his pacing spot-on, and his images "ebullient."

I sat down with Nobleman for a short Q & A about Boys of Steel, but I also took the opportunity to ask him about his next project, a book for older readers about the uncredited co-creator and original writer of Batman -- or, as Nobleman puts it at this post, " the co-creator of Batman whose name is not on every Batman story."

Jules: For those who don't read your blog, tell us about the research that went into Boys of Steel.

Marc: Wait, you know people who don't read my blog? :)

The research...I started too late to be able to speak with Jerry Siegel (the writer) or Joe Shuster (the artist) personally; both died in the 1990s. I relied as much as possible on interviews they gave or direct quotations from articles.

My goal was not to uncover any revelations. I simply wanted to tell this story in a new format to a new audience. It ended up being that I did uncover a few revelations--but only after I'd sold the manuscript.

Once we locked in an illustrator, I went to Cleveland to do photo research, which is where I made most of the discoveries. One was the truth about what happened to Jerry Siegel's father---he was not shot to death during a robbery at his clothing store as recounted in an otherwise wonderful book on comics history. I also was the first to dig up photos of the unassuming apartment building in which Joe first drew Superman---a building that the city demolished in 1975 without knowing its significance. I blogged about just how I did that---it was not nearly as easy as walking into an archive and saying "Got any photos of Joe Shuster's home circa 1934?"

Jules: Did you see MacDonald's illustrations early on, or was it not until later after you had written every word? What was it like to see him bring your story to life? And did you have any say in some of the wonderful details MacDonald brought to your already detailed text?

Marc: I sold the manuscript in March 2005 and finished revision before we landed Ross (in November 2006). After my Cleveland trip, I sent Ross (via my editor) a CD of dozens of reference images, along with requests and suggestions for each spread, but he and I were not in direct contact until after he was done, as per protocol.

I first saw Ross's sketches in July 2007. It was exhilarating - a feeling similar to what Jerry's when he first saw Joe sketch this character that till that point had existed only in his (Jerry's) head. Ross was very respectful of my most fervent requests (one of many examples: I wanted one spread to include Shabbat candles, though I don't mention them in the text, and Ross obliged) and he added so much more than I could have hoped for.

Jules: How validating is it to be getting so many great reviews (starred, no less) for a book you so obviously poured your heart and soul into? (Booklist writing "this robust treatment does their story justice" must be particularly nice.)

Marc: I'm mostly good things, including flattered and humbled, though I'm also one deadly sin, proud. I was so fortunate to be able to work with my exceptional editor Janet Schulman and Ross. I have been thrilled to see some of the subtle details some reviewers have picked up on.

Jules: Tell us about your Bill Finger project -- and what your next book will be.

Marc: Hopefully my next book is my Bill Finger project! It's a picture book for older readers and has a different tone than Boys of Steel. (I also have several other nonfiction picture book manuscripts in various stages, none related to superheroes, and most on subjects that have never been the focus of a book before.)

Finger is the uncredited co-creator and original writer of Batman. For a reason my story explains, cartoonist Bob Kane is currently the only person whose name can legally be on Batman, but Finger (as even Kane admitted before his death) deserves equal billing. Finger created Batman's iconic look (yes, even though he was the writer), wrote the first Batman story and many of the best stories of his first twenty-five years, created most of the major villains and motifs, and crafted what distinguished Batman: an origin story with a believable motive for fighting crime.

Yet Finger has never been the subject of a book for any audience. His peers considered him a creative genius and comic fans are rabid for some kind of treatment on Finger. His fatal flaw was that he did not have the self-esteem to fight for himself. His story is sad, but vital; kids will be surprised---and perhaps emboldened---to learn that someone who created a character that became so famous still had doubts and fears just like they sometimes do. Inspirational people can be complex.

[Ed. Note: Here's Marc's 7/18/08 blog post on Bill Finger and "The Dark Knight," which opened in theaters last week.]

Jules: What's your advice to future pionerds of the world?

Marc: Like Jerry and Joe, be persistent! And be confident about your work. Sometimes people ask me if I am afraid of my work being rejected and I say I am more afraid of not trying and therefore not knowing if it would have been accepted. It takes only one yes to make 100 nos go away...

Jules: I'd say that's excellent advice, indeed. Thanks for your time, Marc!

Beat the Pied Ninnies

Warning: The book reviewed here contains Shakespeare: talk of Shakespeare, lines of Shakespeare, performances of Shakespeare. You may think, “UGGHH, man, could there be a more dull thing in a book than old and creaky Shakespeare?” I’ll admit that the old English bard is sometimes confusing. Shakespeare can also be dusty and boring. The plays and their antique language are more often daring, fun, and enlightening. The Wednesday Wars, at its heart, is about learning to love Shakespeare, but it’s also about a lot of other things. This isn’t one of those books that wants to slip you some medicine that’s good for you in something grossly sweet like Tang. Instead, it’s a coming-of-age story with real laughs, compelling conflict, and a good heart.

“Toads, beetles, bats,” Holling Hoodhood grumbles, (yes, quoting old Shakes) facing yet another pickle on the pages of Gary D. Schmidt’s The Wednesday Wars. Holling is constantly jumping from one challenge to another. You’ll jump from page to page, wanting to know how Holling gets himself out of his newest pinch.

The book is set in 1967, a time when wannabe flower children in America’s suburbs were beginning to rebel against their conservative parents. The Vietnam conflict was escalating in Southeast Asia, and everyone in America knew someone personally touched by tragedy. War, the Civil Rights Movement, the dramatic clash of identity and changing American culture was narrated by Walter Cronkite on the CBS Evening News, played out in everyone’s living room, and is vividly depicted in The Wednesday Wars.

The first chapter begins by setting up the conflict suggested by the book’s title. Holling is the only Presbyterian in a seventh-grade class full of Jewish and Catholic kids. On Wednesday afternoons half of his class would leave Camillo Junior High to go to Hebrew school and the other half would go to Catechism at Saint Adelbert’s Catholic Church. That left Holling by his lonesome self with his teacher, Mrs. Baker. In the beginning, both loathed these one-on-one afternoons, yet it’s from this time that Holling is forced to discover some hard earned truths. Mrs. Baker introduces Holling to Shakespeare, and it takes time for Holling to run with it. He’s busy trying to not get slammed by bullies or busses, scheming to stay on the good side of a girl he reluctantly digs, and quietly negotiating some family drama. Delving into the plot much more than that would give away this book’s good tricks and treats. A lot of things happen in The Wednesday Wars. In fact, if there’s anything that takes away from the pleasures of this book it’s that so many things happen to Holling and those around him, at such breakneck speed, that it’s hard to absorb the story in its totality.

Gary D. Schmidt, the author, is an English professor at Calvin College in Michigan. The Wednesday Wars and his book, Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, both received a Newbery Honor, which is quite a big deal. (You’ve probably seen Newbery Award and Honor books around—they’re the ones in the bookstore embossed with a round silver seal.) The Wednesday Wars is the only book of Schmidt’s that I’ve read, but I just went out and bought Lizzie Bright. All I know is that it has something to do with Maine, which is where this reviewer lives, and that’s all I can write about it at the moment.

Of course you’ll learn something by the end of The Wednesday Wars. You’ll learn that the quality of a life without Shakespeare is measurably less than a life lived by accepting the challenge of attempting to understand one of the greatest writers in the English language. You’ll also learn that the themes woven into the fabric of Shakespearian plays are also the things we struggle with now: family, love, comedy, and tragedy. The Wednesday Wars is about rising to the challenge of living a life in full. Reading about Holling Hoodhood’s courageous attempts and many missteps in growing up is well worth your own rise to a life, hopefully, in full. It’s all about beating the pied ninnies. If you want to know what that means, you’ll just have to read the book.

If Tesla built a robot....

....it would be the coolest thing ever!

Here's the description:

"In 1923, Nikola Tesla's career is in its twilight until he unveils a robot with automatic intelligence -- Atomic Robo! Granted full American citizenship in return for his participation in a top secret military operation in 1938, Atomic Robo goes on to found Tesladyne -- a think tank dedicated to exploring the fringes of scientific inquiry. After decades of dealing with all manner of weirdness, Atomic Robo and the so-called Action Scientists of Tesladyne have become the go-to defense force against the unexplained."

The creative team behind Atomic Robo describe the series as drawing its inspiration from such sources as Indiana Jones, Ghostbusters, Buckaroo Banzai, Doc Savage, The Rocketeer, and Dragnet.

I just finally got around to reading the free Comic Book Day issue and it was very cool - snarky, wild, totally SF in a steampunk kind of way. Big fun. I'm ordering the recent tpb: Atomic Robo & the Fightin' Scientists of Tesladyne and recommend it if you like those old mad scientist movies crossed with some serious steampunkish fun.

Higher Learning #2

Welcome to the July Higher Learning column! In Higher Learning, College Guys talk about what they're reading, what they read in high school, and what books are important to them now. Since it's July, I held a cyber interview with Thomas, a second year student at Grinnell College, about books and reading.

Thomas is an English major at Grinnell and, because his father's a professor, has lived in many places--North Carolina, England, Grinnell, and, finally, Des Moines for his high school years.* Thanks for talking to Guys Lit Wire, Thomas!

Kelly Herold: What are you reading at this very moment?

Thomas: Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie.

Kelly: Is Midnight's Children typical of the books you like to read?

Thomas: Yes, it has the detail and allegory that are really appealing to me now as an English major as well as the excellent storytelling and elements of fantasy that have appealed to me since I was younger.

Kelly: Okay, let's go back to Middle School. What were you reading in, say, sixth or seventh grade?


Thomas: Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials (The Golden Compass, etc), Harry Potter, Anne McCaffrey's Dragons of Pern books, Sabriel by Garth Nix. A lot of fantasy lit, essentially.

Kelly: What was the first life-changing book you read? A book that made you think 'Wow' for the first time when reading?

Thomas: That's very hard for me to say. I've been a voracious reader for as long as I can remember and books have always had a huge impact on me. I would say that The Golden Compass probably marked my transition from fun, escapist books to really powerful books. The scope of Lyra's adventure was something else and the social commentary about religion was probably the first time that I really started to understand some of the subtext of a book and didn't just enjoy it for the storyline. It was also sobering for me because of all of the death and sadness. I think that it's a perfect book to transition from children's books to heavier adult literature.

Kelly: What about High School? What did you read for school and what did you think about required reading?

Thomas: My first year in High school I read so many wonderful books! I love One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Brave New World the most, probably. Later I really enjoyed The Catcher in the Rye, Great Expectations and The Awakening. I had a love hate relationship with required reading. Most of the time I enjoyed it, but sometimes I'd get into ruts where I didn't enjoy anything that I was reading. My Junior year I actually almost failed AP English because I felt like I wasn't getting anything out of the reading and just stopped doing the assignments. I think that Edith Wharton's Ethan Frome was the greatest object of my hatred. We spent about 4 weeks on it and I just couldn't stand it. Now of course, I realize that that wasn't productive. I'd encourage anyone to go and talk with their teacher and let them know if you're not enjoying the required reading. I finally had to go to mine and beg for forgiveness. She was a wonderful lady and wanted to know exactly why I wasn't doing the work and didn't feel like I was getting anything out of the class. We talked things over, she let me make up the work for half credit which eventually got me to a B- which wasn't failing, but was my lowest grade in High School. If you need extra help from your teacher to be engaged you definitely shouldn't hesitate to ask for it.

Kelly: Did you do much reading for fun when you were in high school? What did "reading for fun" mean to you?

Thomas: I actually tried to read a short story from The New Yorker every week in High School. I had a hard time reading novels in my free time because when I got busy with my academics I'd go weeks without doing pleasure reading. New Yorker short stories are relatively quick reads and expose you to many different kinds of writing. Sometimes I didn't get into them at all and sometimes they were mind boggling and wonderful. For me fun reading is reading that I would do purely for my own enjoyment and not out of any sense of obligation. I have to confess that I've grown to love a lot of the classics and academic reading though, so my perspective may be a little skewed.

Kelly: Now you're an English major--so that means lots of Shakespeare, Milton, and, you know, the classics. What do you read when you want to escape the "good stuff"?

Thomas: Going back to my answer to the last question I often read other books by authors who I really enjoyed in class. I read Midnight's Children for example, after I read Shame (also by Rushdie) for a class this spring. I also read the collection A Good Man is Hard to Find after reading a Flannery O'Connor short story in high school. Recently I've been reading On the Road, which is exhilarating and really an excellent read. I wanted something different and I certainly got that from Jack Kerouac. Don DeLillo and J.D. Salinger also have books that I think many people would really like outside of what's usually taught in the classroom. I also like to go back and reread books that I enjoyed in Middle and High school when I want lighter reading.

Kelly: Okay, last question: Young Adult literature--ever heard of it? What is Young Adult literature?

Thomas: I think that Young Adult Literature is a term created to make reading seem less scary to teenagers. I think that that's a really good goal, of course, but I'm not sure that all Young Adult literature is a good thing. I'm certainly an advocate of reading books outside of the classics and the canon but I'd say that it's also somewhat patronizing to assume that Young adults can't handle Adult literature. They're not going to understand it all of course, but then again I suspect that the same is true of lots of adults. When I read One flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest when I was 14 I certainly didn't understand all of it but it was powerful and working to understand it was one of the most satisfying projects I've ever undertaken, at least in terms of reading. I've looked at lots of things marketed as 'Young Adult Literature' in bookstores and while a lot of it's enjoyable I think that it wouldn't be fulfilling to read all of the time. Sinking your teeth into something that's challenging should be be both enjoyable and rewarding.
-----------------

* Thomas is an English major for a number of good reasons. He explains, "I chose English because the most satisfying class discussion that I've experienced by and large have been in English class. Because language is the way of communicating about everything else in our lives I find that pretty much every topic imaginable comes up in English classes. If I could, I would major in being a well rounded liberal art student, but I find that the English department is the best place to achieve that. I'd really like to be a professor and I think that teaching English would be the best places to start really enjoyable, intense and productive conversations."

Futuristic Flying Villages Anyone?

I have a thing for stories that happen in the sky. Funny, because I'm a paranoid, nail-biting, "was that the sound of an engine shutting down?" type of flier. Yet flight features prominently in some of my favourite books: Airman, Airborn, Skybreaker, Harry Potter, Larklight. I expected to enjoy Monk and Nigel Ashland's new book, Kaimira: The Sky Village, since a flying village, suspended by a web of connected hot-air balloons, features prominently in the story. I wasn't sure how I would like the strong Sci-fi aspect of the book, but I was surprised how easily I "got into" the Kaimira world.

You'll find a rich and complicated plot in The Sky Village - really two stories in one, in fact. The story takes place in the future, during a time in which humans, beasts and powerful mechanical monsters are in conflict. First there is Mei, a young girl whose mother has been kidnapped by fearsome metallic creatures known as meks. After the attack on her village, Mei is brought by her father to the Sky Village, to live with her mother's people in relative safety above the dangerous earth. As a land walker, Mei finds it difficult to prove herself to her bold celestial relatives. So much about the Sky Village is strange and even frightening to her, and Mei is determined to find her mother and rescue her from the meks. At the same time, far away in the ruined city of Las Vegas, a young man named Rom is trying to eek out a meager existence for himself and his sister Riley. When Riley is taken by demonic creatures deep into the caves under the city, Rom must follow. He becomes involved in gladiator-style fighting called "demonsmithing" in which fighters conjure mechanical-beast demons to battle each other for the entertainment of gamblers. The fates of these two characters are in fact intertwined, since they communicate through a magical text known as the Tree Book. As well, both Mei and Rom carry the kaimira gene, which means that elements of beast and mek are a part of their genetic identity. They struggle to understand what this might mean for their futures, and to control the potentially violent and unpredictable aspects of themselves.

If you love to read novels with complex, unusual and well-realized futuristic societies, you will likely enjoy The Sky Village. It's clear that Monk and Nigel Ashland put real heart into developing a believable and intricate world. The episodes in the Sky Village itself were my favourite parts of the story. I could really imagine this huge floating city drifting above the Chinese landscape. I'm sure that there will be many fans Rom's plotline, as the demonsmithing scenes are dark and thrilling. This is a story for guys and girls, for anyone who loves tales of adventure and other worlds. I interviewed Chris Rettstatt (aka Monk Ashland) on his recent blog tour. Head over here to find out all kinds of stuff about Chris' inspiration and favourite books. There is a cool interactive website at www.kaimiracode.com where you can really dig deep into the world of the story. Oh, and don't worry. This is the first in a five-book series, bound to please a whole lot of Sci-fi / Fantasy lovers and lots of other folk besides.

Kaimira: The Sky Village is published by Candlewick.

After the mission is accomplished, the war begins...

When I was a kid, I loved playing at fighting. I had army men, I played assassin and hunter and capture the flag. But actual violence always terrified me--not in the way it does my mother (she can't stand the thought of it)--but because of what it did to me, how it got my blood boiling, and how, if I thought I was in the right, I would lash out at bullies or whoever. There was a part of me that thought this violence was justified, and something about that false righteousness burned in my gut like glory.

And THAT is the thing that terrifies me the most.

Two recent book deal with that horrible aspect of war: Deogratias by J.P. Stassen (translated by Alexis Siegel) and The Road of Bones by Anne Fine.


I've written about The Road of Bones before, specifically it's cover. What a great book. This account of Yuri, a young man attempting to survive a Stalinist-esque regime, aptly shows the damage to an entire society a fanatical and authoritarian regime can do. Yuri's struggle is not that of a character against other characters, but a character against political and social structures as monumental and inescabable as to make his fight to survive as primal as any man vs. nature tale.

Early in the book, Yuri, a young man of twelve or thirteen, makes a simple mistake. And, though Yuri's offense is slight, he knows the officers will come for him. So he sets off to escape, with some successes and some failures. Along the way, we get a survey of how the oppressive government has transformed the very hearts and souls f the people. And, ultimately, how even though Yuri survives terrible, terrible things, his heart, his soul, remain in jeopardy. Not for what people have done to him, but for what the basic act of surviving has done to his spirit.

In Deogratias, J.P. Stassen uses the graphic novel form to explore recent events in Rwanda. Like Fine, Stassen is interested in getting under the skin of what long term violence can do to the psyche of a people. Deogratias, the Hutu boy at the center of the book, has survived horrendous genocide, but at what cost? He is mocked and derided by everyone, he wrestles with demons of memory and guilt, and has been driven half insane by what he has gone through.

Deogratias is a much more violent, brutal and complex book, but it's core vision is similar to that of Fine's book: How does war--not battles, but long term, socially and culturally devestating war--affect a people. Not soldiers, not captains, not politicians, but the everyday people hoping to simply work and live an ordinary life?

Most especially, how does war like this affect young men with simple hopes and dreams, like going to school, meeting a girl, nothing more than simple things?

Seen through the eyes of these two excellent books, the answer is that it shrinks the spirit and warps the soul.

If only Holden Caulfield had an evil clone: Everything I know about literature I learned from comic books.

I was an apathetic student in high school. Algebra was my regular nap period. Instead of reading The Return of the Native like I should have, I wasted my time pouring over The Amazing Spiderman and Uncanny X-Men until I’d memorized every POW! and SNIKT!

But I wound up winning an English scholarship in college, then publishing two novels of my own.

GLW’s mission is encouraging teenage boys to read. Since I was a teenage boy who became, not only a voracious reader, but such a fancy-pants writer I’m going to use the word “lyceum” in the next paragraph, I’m offering myself as a case study. So how did it happen? It was the comics all along, or more exactly, the constant, hydra-headed chatter of comic fandom.

My personal lyceum wasn’t English class, it was the comic shop--creatively named The Comic Shop--where I hung out after school. If you’ve never been in one, you need to understand that comic book stores are essentially bars for nerds, one of the few businesses that encourages customers to hang out.

Walk in, and people will be slumped on the big stinky couch (there’s a stinky couch in every comic shop I’ve ever gone to) and propped up against the counter. You won’t be sure who actually works there at first. Everybody has a nickname like Possum, Ha-Ha, or Creepy Dave. Regulars wander in with bags of fast food and no intention of buying anything. They’re just there to kick back on the stinky couch, kill an hour or two, and talk.

And talk and talk and talk.

You also need to understand that comic fans aren’t passive consumers. They may love a particular issue or hate it, but they’re going to be vocal about it either way. They’ll dissect plot arcs, character developments, and the internal logic of a comic, changes in costume and changes in tone, all the basic building blocks of a narrative. They will cite back issues as precedent. 


During the 90s, a new writer made Spiderman a more brooding character, often crouching on rooftops in the rain, following the then-current trend of more “grim and gritty” characters. I hated this new Spidermen and might have left it at that if one of my friends hadn’t challenged me. I liked other dark characters like Batman and the Punisher, he pointed out. What made Spiderman different? Why couldn’t he brood every now and then.

It took ten minutes to mumble a half-articulate answer, but it boiled down to, Spiderman can’t brood because Spiderman loves being a superhero. He cracks jokes during fights and introduces himself as “your friendly neighborhood wall-crawler.” Despite being a genius, he’s never built a supped-up car like the Batmobile because swinging through the city on web ropes is way more fun.

Other characters like Batman and The Punisher have been formed by tragedy. Other titles like the X-men focus on being persecuted for being different. But a central theme of Spiderman, as essential to the character as his costume, has always been that having superpowers would rock.

But my friend countered: Spiderman was formed by tragedy. His Uncle Ben was murdered. His shoulders sag heavy under the knowledge that with great power comes great responsibility.

My brain starting to hurt, I conceded this was true, then counter-countered. When Peter Parker first got his powers, all he wanted to do was show off. Because superpowers rock. When he sees the police chasing a thief, he doesn’t help since it’s not his job. Only after that thief murders Uncle Ben does he see that with great power comes great responsibility.

Both themes have been in play since the beginning. Tip the balance too far in one direction, and Spiderman stops being Spiderman. Hence, broody, rooftop-crouchy Spiderman blows.

I had to lay down for awhile after that. But by sixteen, without quite realizing it, I’d learned to break a story down to its component parts, turn them over in my mind, and say what worked and what didn’t, and most importantly, why. Once I could do that with comic books, I could do it with capital-L literature and eventually my own stuff.

Then there’s symbolism. By necessity, comics depend on signifiers to identify their characters, the silhouetted bat on Batman’s chest or the Joker’s white, green, and purple color scheme. The symbols aren’t static, though. They play off one another and pop up in unexpected places. At their best, they become a language of images.

The cover to the left trumpets, AT LONG LAST THE SECRET REVEALED! But even without any words, Superman’s red ‘S’ and Clark Kent’s black glasses are both so iconic, most people could immediately grasp the story promised inside.

In my own writing, I tend to rely heavily on reoccurring symbols. The pack’s combat boots in Unleashed and the phrase “leave everything behind” in Tripping to Somewhere appear over and over, but their exact meaning constantly shifts. This tendency came directly from years of reading comics.

Beyond a few tricks and concepts, though, the best thing I got from hanging out at The Comic Shop was being surrounded by people who loved stories. A comic that took 15 minutes to read could lead to hours or weeks of back-and-forth.

I drifted away from comics after high school, partly because I grew annoyed with how many of them fell back on cheap plot twists, killing a major character to generate buzz, then bringing them miraculously back to life whenever sales started flagging again. Nowadays, I’m finally reading stuff my English teachers would have approved of.

But when I finish a good book, and nobody’s around to praise it to or argue with, only silence, it always feels like something’s missing.

What do awards mean to teen readers?

Okay, here's a question: do teen readers care if a book has won awards or not?

This came up in a comments discussion last week and I'm thinking the answer is no. I can never remember caring the slightest if a book won an award. I know the Caldecott and Newbery award winners are always easier to find in bookstores, but I don't know that I cared about that when I was a kid.(And now the Prinz winners are there too.) I know awards matter in terms of books that are ordered by stores and libraries and as far as placement on reading lists but will they make the average 15 year old pick up a book?

Hmmmm.

Beyond the big awards, there are tons of smaller ones, regional ones, genre ones, etc. Again, these matter in terms of ordering and assignment by adults (especially the regional ones I bet) but do teens care? I'm not saying that awards are unnecessary - I think it is nice to be recognized by your peers - but I wonder for teens in particular (who might be choosing their books without adult input) if an award that is chosen by adults would ever be the deciding factor in getting a book.

And in terms of sharing out thoughts on books here, should we care about mentioning awards? If our readers aren't looking for them - should we?

Thoughts, please........