FAN MAIL WEDNESDAY #347: Letter from a “Huge Soccer Girl”

From last night’s email: 

SHAKEN will be available in paperback, featuring this new cover, on March 17th.

i just read your book shaken and i am a huge soccer girl and i love reading this book i love how she had a hard thing in her life and kept going on what she loved and i love how much she tried

thank you its hard i had a concussion too it was hard so i loved how i could relate to this book 

T____, 6th grade
pls answer back if you can

 

I replied . . .

T, 
I’m very glad to read your kind note. While I hoped to write a book that was more than “just” a soccer story, I did very much want the approval of “huge soccer girls” like you. 
My daughter Maggie played soccer until knee surgeries forced her to quit (three ACL surgeries and done). One unexpected thing she told me was about the first few minutes of practice, how warm and friendly they were, everybody touching base and connecting before the work begins. I tried to capture that small moment in the book. That feeling of being a team. 
Another moment in the story was inspired by an actual USWNT  soccer star, Claire Hutton, who attended our local high school in Bethlehem, NY. Everyone who followed local sports knew about Claire from a young age. I only met her once, she may have been 15-16 at the time, when I was out walking my dog Echo on a summer day by the high school. Claire was out on the football field, alone, practicing with an assortment of orange cones. Running sprints, ball drills, and so on. I stopped and we chatted amiably for a few minutes. But that scene — a determined athlete, all alone, driven by some inner flame — was all I needed for Chapter 1 of my book. I wanted my character, Kristy Barrett, to have a little bit of the fire that burned inside Claire.

How do you not root for a kid — now a young woman — like this?

I’m sorry but not surprised to hear that you experienced a concussion. Hopefully your recovery went well and you can avoid another incident. The health of your brain is everything. And yet if you are playing the game, and competing, it’s impossible to go halfway. It’s hard to be careful when you are fighting for the ball. 
I wish you luck. My best,
James Preller

BRIEF EXCERPT from SHAKEN: Establishing Kristy, the Soccer Player

My most recent novel, Shaken, ages 10-14, will be out in paperback on March 17th. That’s less than two weeks from now.

In the book, an awesomely talented 7th grade soccer player, Kristy Barrett, experiences a serious concussion.

I more or less pull the rug out from under her. That’s what writers do. We make awful things happen to perfectly decent characters. In the rest of the book we find out what Kristy’s made of. In the first few pages, I needed to quickly establish that, for Kristy, soccer was everything. Her social currency, her primary source of self-esteem, friendship, and identity. 

If “Soccer is my life!” what happens when that hat blows away?

But before the “inciting event” of Kristy’s concussion — which is the engine of our story — I needed to establish the current situation. 

Here’s a few paragraphs from pages 3-4, where we learn something about this young athlete: 

By the time she played her first organized practice at U4, anyone could see that Kristy Barrett was a special player. She was simply quicker and more focused than any other four-year-old on the field. Of course, half of them were clinging to their parents’ legs, or slurping on oranges, or plucking dandelions while Kristy raged up and down the grass like a creature possessed. Amazingly, that dynamic continued on through rec ball and travel, even when they let her play on the boys’ team. In seventh grade, Kristy was starting for the varsity high school team. She was special. That was the word, over and over: a special kid

But wasn’t everybody? 

Kristy didn’t much care what people said. She loved to play. That was all, the whole shebang. But after a video of one of her goals went viral — and was included on ESPN’s “Amazing Plays” Sunday feature, along with a thirty-five second interview — everyone, absolutely everyone, knew. Not long after, a coach from the USA Development Program called, saying, “It wouldn’t surprise me if one day Kristy represents the United States in international play.”

Maybe even a future Olympian. 

Altogether not bad for someone who hadn’t, at that time, turned thirteen. But that’s how it works at the highest levels of sports. When you know, you know. 

THANKS FOR STOPPING BY!

 

The Best Moments in Reading . . .

“The best moments in reading are when you come across something — a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things — that you had thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you’ve never met, maybe even someone long dead, and it’s as if a hand has come out and taken yours.” — Alan Bennett, The History Boys.

In a previous post, where I replied to a piece of fan mail, I tried to approach this idea in my own way — without being familiar with the scene above, written by Alan Bennett, spoken by the actor Richard Griffiths. Of course, together they articulate it perfectly, far better than my own attempt. Which is why I share it here. 

Reading really is quite a miracle. It’s forever astonishing and a little heartbreaking how many people in our world willingly deny themselves this deep source of pleasure and solace. 

 

 

FAN MAIL WEDNESDAY #346: Noelle Inspires a Longer Than Usual Response

 

To get a letter, any letter, is a wonderful thing. 

Here’s one from Durham, NC . . .

I replied . . .

Dear Noelle,

It is a kind and generous thing, to sit down and write a letter. Especially in these times, when letter-writing feels like a thing of the past.

In our whirlwind of days, it is the gift of time and thought and presence and, yes, words. And for that letter to be sent to an author, after reading a book, it’s all the more meaningful.

So thank you, Noelle, very much. It means a lot.

When I think about it, I’m amazed by how books connect us through space and time. We can read a book written 150 years ago and somehow co-exist with that writer —- who lived a life very different from our own. A different time and place. And yet by reading we are linked.

Books are remarkable, don’t you think?

You have an Etsy shop! Holy wow. At 12 years old! And you crochet?

From that I gather that you are not the standard edition, everyday, run-of-the-mill preteen. You might even be, I suspect, quite extraordinary.

You asked a few questions: I can’t exactly remember how long it took to write The Courage Test. Less than a year. I know that it required quite a bit of research. I had much to learn about Lewis and Clark’s journey. I sent away for river maps, read up on hotels, had to figure out where Will and his father might actually go for breakfast, on and on and on. But at a certain point, a writer has to push the research aside and start writing, despite never knowing enough.

On that note, you might enjoy this post.

Or this one.

The one true thing I’ve figured out is that the only way to learn how to write a novel . . . is to write a novel. If you wait until you know enough, until you’ve got it all nailed down, you’ll never get started. The learning is in the doing.

Your questions touch on support and guidance and inspiration. Those are important things. It’s so valuable in life to have someone who believes in you, who roots for you, who thinks you can do it — even when, or especially when, you yourself have doubts. Don’t we all? It may be a teacher, a parent, a friend, or someone you meet in a book. Whoever it might be, hold onto that person for dear life.

For myself, I can think of different teachers I’ve met over the years. Co-workers, friends. As for my parents, I can’t say that they ever encouraged me to write, or were particularly interested in the arts. They never dragged me to museums or asked me to watch foreign films. They weren’t big readers. But I grew up the youngest of seven children. I saw so many living pathways, directions I could take. And the gift that my parents gave me was the sense that it was all available to me. I was swimming in the world of the possible. I could do what I liked, dream my own dreams, and no matter what they would love me and support me. They wanted me to find my own way.

.


What more could I ask for?

Thanks for reading my book and inspiring me to sit down with my thoughts, and a blank screen, and put down some words. Sorry I prattled on so long!

My best,

James Preller

SOME REVIEWS . . .

“Preller stirs doses of American history into a first-rate road trip.” — Booklist, starred review.

“There is plenty of action . . . A middle grade winner to hand to fans of history, adventure, and family drama.” — School Library Journal.

“Whatever young explorers look for on their literary road trips, they’ll find it here.” — Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books.

 

THE COURAGE TEST WAS LISTED AS ONE OF “THE BEST CHILDREN’S BOOKS OF THE YEAR,” 2017 EDITION, BY BANK STREET COLLEGE. 

IT WAS ALSO A JUNIOR LIBRARY GUILD SELECTION.

That Iconic Scene from “ALMOST FAMOUS” Should Have Been Cringe-Worthy — But Succeeds Spectacularly

I recently read Cameron Crowe’s very entertaining memoir, The Uncool, and it inspired me to rewatch his film, “Almost Famous,” which covers much of the same ground. 

I liked it the second time around just fine. 

There’s a great scene where the band, weary and fractured, rides the bus to yet another town, another gig. The future feels uncertain, relationships feel shattered, youthful ideals crushed. Then Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” plays and, one by one, the characters come to life, joining in on a group sing-along. 

It’s an iconic moment, an absolute highlight of the film.

And it’s the corniest thing on earth. I mean, on the page, this should not work. It’s so sentimental and sappy and full of what could easily be regarded as false emotion.

Here, take a look:

And to be clear: I absolutely love it, and have remembered it fondly since the film first came out in 2000. 

In fact, I just teared up watching the clip (but, caveat, I tear up over everything). 

In less capable hands, this scene could have been a disaster. Klunky and forced, too pat and tidy. Cringe-inducing.

But again, wow. It’s a home run. It’s everything. 

And it took courage, I think, especially in today’s cold, cynical, skeptical world. That’s kind of Crowe’s strength, actually. He swung for the fences, risked being sincere and earnest and so very uncool — and knocked it out of the park. 

There’s in lesson in this, I think. 

Much credit, too, goes to the song, a masterpiece in its own right. It is exactly the right song. The right idea. Because it is the love of music that unites these disparate characters. Hat tip, Elton John. Hat tip, Cameron Crowe, for pulling this small miracle of a moment in film. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

James Preller's Blog

News, Notes & Inside Info from a Children's Book Author

Skip to content ↓