"Talking Truth with Teens" - Jo Knowles
The hardest question I’m asked by teens is whether or not my books are true. In letters, at workshops, at book groups and signings, there is almost always one brave person who raises a hand or writes in an e-mail, “Did it happen to you?”
Every time, I falter. Every time, I struggle with how to answer. Because I can almost always tell–whether by the tone of their voice, the look in their eyes, or the follow-up details in a letter–why they want to know. And it breaks my heart. Because what they really, really want to ask is, “Did it happen to you, too?”
Somewhere in the pages of the book, we have shared a truth, the asker and me. And maybe he or she feels less alone now. Relieved. A little less afraid. I want to honor that. I want to give some secret wink or nod to reassure the asker that he or she is not alone. That I survived, and so can they. But the truth is: It happened to me, and it didn’t.
Fragments of my own truths can be found in all of my books. Feelings. Emotions. Deceits. Joys. Confusions. My wink or nod wouldn’t really mean “Yes, it did happen to me.” It would simply (but honestly) mean: “I understand what you’re going through.” But I think the asker already suspects this by asking the question in the first place.
Realistic fiction requires us to write as honestly as we can. The honesty isn’t literal. It’s deeper than that. It’s universal. I think that many teens who are drawn to realistic fiction are looking for connection. They are looking for entertainment, too, of course. But there is something comforting in recognizing something familiar, even–or maybe especially–when that familiar thing is something they’ve never talked about with anyone. Often, because they’ve been too afraid or ashamed.
I know that was the case for me when I first discovered young adult literature in high school. It was such a relief to read about guilt and longing and fear, even when those things came from far different events than what caused my own. I felt less alone. I felt understood.
But is this the role of contemporary realistic fiction? Or just one of the many outcomes of reading it. I make up fictional stories in an effort to understand true ones: my stories, and the stories I’ve witnessed. And while I (and many others) am often accused of writing about “dark” topics, I hope that by doing so I help to shed light on them in much the same way the stories of my youth did for me.
So what, if any, responsibility do authors have when it comes to honesty and interactions with teens, now that those interactions are so easily made online? What kind of dialog opens up when you answer definitively yes, or no? Is it wise for authors to engage beyond the pages of their books? Are they qualified?
When teachers use contemporary realistic fiction in the classroom, do these same questions and conflicts arise? How do we respond responsibly when “Did it happen to you?” leads to, “This happened to me. Can you help me?”
I’m looking forward to our discussion. :-)
_______
Jo Knowles is the author of the young adult novels Lessons from a Dead Girl, Jumping Off Swings, Pearl, and See You At Harry’s (coming May 2012). She has a master’s degree in children’s literature. Some of her awards include the PEN New England Discovery Award, YALSA Best Books for Young Adults, YALSA Quick Picks Top Ten, International Reading Associations Young Adult Choices List, Tayshas List, and Bank Street College’s Best Books for Children (Outstanding Merit). Jo lives in Vermont with her husband and son.
Links:
Web site: http://www.joknowles.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/