9/2/10

madrobins: It's a meatloaf.  Dressed up like a bunny.  (Default)
Sarcasm Girl (who is not 13), incensed and in her special brand of High Dudgeon, pointed me to an article called Are Your Kid's Books Rated R?. In fact, the author, Tony Buchsbaum, seems to think that if they aren't, they should be. Buchsbaum starts out with a point of view and seems genuinely pleased that people are responding to the article--for a while. And then he starts to get testy and condescending. I suspect he was expecting a groundswell of parents saying "Oh, thank God, I'm not the only one!" Instead he mostly got people saying that he's out of touch with the way teenagers think and read, and his snowballing defensiveness tips over into snark pretty fast. The best, and most effective, response came from Emily, a self-identified 13-year-old who eloquently responded to the article point by point. My favorite, point 7:
7. Seriously, a rating system? Do you know what an R rating on the front of a book cover would scream to 10, 11, 12, 13 year olds? It would scream READ ME. It would scream I AM CONTRABAND. It would scream YOUR PARENTS WOULD NOT APPROVE. And, therefore, it would fly off the shelves.
She makes more points in her second post immediately following.

The discussion, like most such in the Wonderful World of Teh Web, goes on and on; most of it is civil, occasionally it's not. Me, I'm a big fan of letting kids read what they want, but having the sort of relationship with them where they can come talk to you if they're troubled. It's what I grew up with and what I think works--certainly it's what we've done with the girls. But rule number one is always: Know Your Kids. And Buchsbaum seems to think that he knows his kids, but isn't sure about the rest of us.
madrobins: It's a meatloaf.  Dressed up like a bunny.  (Default)
So I finished up the whole entire text for part one, and am now knitting together the disparate parts of part two. I seem to be missing some disparate parts, which is annoying; must check notebooks to see if they were written long hand--I remember writing them, just not how/where.

In the meantime, I'm in slog mode. Which is: writing the connective tissue, smoothing it out, making sure that everything in the bit I've joined to the whole fits with everything else I've already written. I feel like I'm up to my hips in smelly mud, but I got 1250 new words done today, plus polished some other stuff. At this rate, it might just be a book.