Getting Kids Psyched About Books

Today I'm making good on my promise (from, ahem, more than two months ago) to talk about some of the things I've done to help my kids love reading. So here goes:

I got lucky with my first child. When he started reading aloud billboards as we drove along the freeway, I had no idea that doing such things at age three wasn't normal. I'd like to take credit for his insane reading skillz (and I can take credit for the things I did to expose him to reading and words and books), but truly, he just came wired ready to soak it up.

He didn't learn much in kindergarten, as he was already reading at a fourth-grade level. Comprehension, inference, and some other accompanying reading skills weren't quite that high, but he could decode like a pro.

While I was pregnant with him, I was finishing my English degree, and I spent literally hours reading aloud as I paced our apartment so I could finish the assignments and not fall asleep from pregnancy fatigue. He literally heard volumes of classic literature in utero. I can't help but wonder if that helped form some brain connections or something.

(The other kids heard plenty of books read aloud in utero, but those were Dr. Seuss and other kids books. Link? We'll never know.)

Some things we did to expose him (and his siblings) to reading early:

• Read aloud. A lot. He got several books read to him before every nap, before bed, and at lots of other times.
• Point out easy words and have him learn them. I started with the classic sight words, although I didn't know that's what they were called. (A similar list is HERE.) As a toddler, he knew to expect Mom to point to about one word per page for him to read, whether a simple the, you, or car, or something a bit more complicated.
• Let them help with shopping. Kids love finding "apples" on the list and crossing it out.They enjoy searching for words on labels. Even little kids can learn to identify the signs for the bakery and deli and eventually figure out what the sounds in the letters mean. (The store is another great spot for practicing numbers and easy math.)
• Cook together and point out ingredients, labels, and instructions.

I had a couple of challenges getting him to actually read. One was that most books on his age level were too easy for him. The first books he really took to, thanks to their humor, were the Captain Underpants books. I know some parents cringe at those (potty humor, intentional misspellings, etc.), but to me, hey, he was reading. Those books hooked him. He read them all so much they fell apart. I got a few comb-bound, but eventually, we had to buy a new set.

Which led to my second challenge with him: He didn't like trying new books. Around 4th or 5th grade, he had two series he loved . . . and read them over and over. And read nothing else. Boys are particularly hard to find books for at that age; it seems like there are far more girl titles for the in-between reading ages than for boys.

Finding new books that sparked his interest took time and effort (including asking just about every mom of boys I could find what their kids liked and spending hours trolling the Internet for ideas), but it was worth it; eventually we broke through the block, and he discovered a bunch of other writers and books.

Child #2 learned to read well, and pretty early, if not as fast as her brother. She was always ahead of her grade on decoding, comprehension, and fluency.

But she hated reading.

Which about killed me. Getting the required 15 or 20 minutes of reading per day for school was pure torture (for both us), especially as she got older. By fourth grade, I could get her to read a stack of picture books, but she refused to try a novel, even an easy chapter book.

I was terrified that she'd never enjoy reading. Aside from the joy that reading can be, I was afraid she'd lose out on the skills literacy provides.

Two things finally solved the problem:

• We used audio books along with the hard-copy book. So she read the text as she listened to the book. I got this idea from my teacher-writer friend (and critique group member) Lu Ann Staheli. This technique helped take away some of the intimidation factor. After reading a few books this way, she was no longer afraid of chapter books.
• I noticed that she complained of headaches in her forehead after reading. I remembered that when my dad was young, reading always felt like work because of eye issues. When reading is physically painful, of course you don't enjoy it. A trip to the eye doctor with her confirmed it: while she had 20/20 vision for distance, she had significant astigmatism, which made her eye muscles work extra hard to keep the text in focus. That led to headaches from eye-muscle fatigue, right on her forehead, where her pain was centered. She got reading glasses, and a few days later, I found her curled up on her bed with a novel. I walked away with tears in my eyes.

Child #3 is a perfectionist. When she first started reading, if she couldn't sound out a word the first time around, she fell apart. "I'll never get it! Waaah!" Tears and meltdown.

No amount of explaining that everyone makes mistakes made any difference. We had to back up, go to easier levels that she'd already mastered, and let her have lots of success with those easier books. Then, when she felt ready, we worked up to harder ones.

She didn't like doing that, because she's also an over achiever, and she wanted to be on the higher levels, faster. She eventually managed to jump ahead, but I think it was because of the confidence she developed early on.

When she struggled with the transition to chapter books, I spent time reading aloud with her. I read one page, and she read the next. This helped her get through harder books with support at her side (and reading only half the text). But it also helped me hear what words and concepts she struggled with, so I could help her over some of those hurdles.

This year, her sixth-grade teacher required the students to read 35 books each, in a variety of genres. My daughter's goal is to double that number. With about 6 weeks left in the school year, she's going to make it pretty easily. (And these aren't small books; most are quite thick, in the 300-page range.)

Child #4 falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. She's been surrounded by reading all her life, so it was a natural thing to pick up and strive for. I admit that as the youngest, she got read to least of all the siblings (she got maybe one book at nap time instead of four like her brother), but she got something else: instead of only picture books for bedtime, she heard a lot of novels, since I began reading to everyone at night, and her siblings were past the picture-book stage.

So while I'd still read her picture books, at a pretty young age, she was also listening to much longer, more complex books. She didn't always follow the stories or understand them (and often spent that time on the floor next to us, doodling with paper and crayons), but I really think it's helped in her comprehension, vocabulary, prediction skills, and more.

In fact, I have friends who crack up at her vocabulary because it's so advanced for her age. I think her ability to think, speak, and process at a high level is a direct result of being the youngest and being surrounded by bigger words at a younger age.

Other things we've done:

Participate in library story times for toddlers and preschoolers.

Participate in library summer reading programs.

Have family reading parties.

Nearly always buy something from book orders and the school book fairs. The only rule is that it must be a BOOK, not a toy or game. (This rule is getting harder to keep as book orders veer away from books more and more. Drives me batty.)

The kids are guaranteed to get at least 3 books as gifts during the year: at Christmas, birthdays, and in their Easter baskets. One year, when #3 was a toddler, on seeing her Easter basket, she cried out, "Oh, cool! A book!" Not, "Oh, cool! Candy!" I cheered inside. They save their gift books and treasure them.

They see Mom reading and know that Dad listens to lots of books.

We often talk about books: what we like; what we don't like. Ideas. Recommendations. Predictions. And so much more.

Sometimes we read the same books (like last summer, with the Hunger Games series), which allows for great discussion.

I let them borrow my Kindle. I make this into a very big deal, so they know it's a treat.

Every child is different, and every child will have his or her own challenges (and I'm not touching the category of learning disabilities).

Bottom line:

• Never, ever give up.
• Find out what the underlying reason might be for not liking books.
• Search out the right book (because boredom might be the problem).
• Make reading FUN and something to look forward to.
• Make books and reading valuable, something kids can own.

Body Movies--Yes!

My daughter's fascination with how snails poop has moved on to bigger and better anatomical concepts.

Not long ago, she asked me how we talk. I had to dig to figure out what she meant, which boiled down to:

How do our bodies actually make the sounds of speech?

I tried to explain about vocal chords, how our tongues form sounds, but that wasn't enough for her. So we went to computer, where I searched for videos of vocal chords in action, including the famous clip of Steve Perry's wonder chords banging together at an insane rate as he belts out that falsetto note he's famous for. (It took me forever to find the clip before; I'm not searching for it again or I'd link to it!)

Fascinated by the video, she stroked her neck in wonder. "Mine look like that when I talk?"

A few days later, she asked how our bodies move. A simple explanation about muscles wasn't enough for her. She wanted more. (I mean, really. She's in kindergarten. It's not like she's little.)

Before she was satisfied, we'd gone through discussions of ligaments, tendons, and signals from the brain.

At one point, I casually mentioned that if she had other questions about her body, we could probably find more answers and more videos online to answer them.

"Yes! Body movies!" she exclaimed, and jumped.

For the next two days, she hounded me. Several times a day it was, "When can I watch more body movies?!"

One morning on my way to the shower she begged again, so I gave in to keep her happy. I found a site with several (on the Discovery Channel site, I think.) It had about half a dozen video clips about the human body. As I showered, she watched them. And she re-watched the one about a brain bank several times, fascinated.

When I emerged from the bathroom, she told me all about what a healthy brain looks like versus a diseased brain and how the brain bank people were cutting up the brains for study. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Her older siblings looked ready to wretch from disgust.

"Can I watch more body movies?" she begged. "I want to know how hair grows. And how food goes through my body. And how my heart works."

The next day we sat at the computer and searched out one answer at a time. One medical site had clips about all kinds of things. I read through them, and she'd light up when I hit on a topic she found interesting.

We watched several bits about digestion. Another about the heart. We viewed a colonoscopy. She leaned forward in absolute fascination during the tape of an actual brain surgery while the patient was awake. (That one made me flinch.) An hour later, I had to put a stop to it so we could get on with the rest of the day.

At our next trip to the library, she asked if she could check out a movie. Sure, I said, expecting her to trot over to the kids' section and look over the Arthur tapes.

Oh, no.

"Body movies!" she demanded with a hop.

You'd be surprised at how few they had. I searched the entire video collection and found two. (They had plenty of educational videos, but most were about geography, history, or animals, not the human body specifically, which was a prerequisite.) We left the library with those videos, and she watched them right away.

The next time we visited the library, she didn't care so much about finding new Berenstain Bears books like she usually does. Instead, she wanted (what else?) body books. We ended up with an armful that explained everything from how hair grows (we never did find a good video clip she understood about that) to how our ears work, why we sneeze, and what happens when you hiccup.

Thanks to a book about bones, she can now point to her patella, scapula, and femur.

"Maybe you'll be a doctor when you grow up," Dad suggested.

"No," she said with a shake of her head, laughing (as if Dad were being truly silly). "I'm going to be an artist."

"Artists need to know how the body works and moves," I told her.

"Really? Yes!!!" She pumped her arm.

I was with Dad, thinking that this body fascination would go beyond perspective and shading.

But then the other day, she showed me a picture she drew and explained that it looked just like lungs. Scary thing? It did. She looked so proud of herself that she knew what lungs looked like and what they did.

So for now, no matter what she ends up doing in the future, we'll try to feed her curiosity. While her siblings continue to think that body movies are just gross.

("A brain? Ewww!")

I've Been Hagged

My local library has a lot of fun throwing parties for families. They do at least two every year, and they're quite the productions.

For years they had a Harry Potter party each summer around Harry's birthday. (Last year's in celebration of the final book was mucho cool. Totally blew me away.)

And there's the an annual princess ball, which they always connect to a neat theme (this year it was Chinese new year).

Kids often dress up for these things, and there's always a ton of fun activities connected with the theme. Families come in swarms. It's a big deal.

This year the fantasy party focused on a new series. Yesterday, the library turned into Fablehaven. The lengths to which they went for the celebration were stunning. Among the features of the night:

• A decorated archway marking the entrance to Fablehaven.


• A search for different fairies as well as Olluch and the Gatekeeper's keys


• Human Foosball (based on Kendra and the Sphinx playing the game)


• Chickens to feed (kids got to guess which one was Grandma)


• Nymphs shooting kids with water guns


• Hags handing out curses (Things like, "Every time someone says your name, yell out a pizza topping." Curses could only be broken by a fairy kiss . . . Hershey's kisses handed out by one of several cute high-school girls dressed up).


• Fairy crafts


• "Magic" milk provided by Meadow Gold (and their giant, inflatable cow as Viola)


• Seeds to plant your own fairy garden


• Fablehaven posters awarded to a handful of attendees


• A magical well with creatures inside (condensed sponges that turned into animals in water)


• and more

The big draw of the night was the author of the NY Times bestselling series, Brandon Mull, showing up to talk and then sign books for an insanely long line.

As in the past, I was once again roped into helping with a library party, and this time I got to be one of the hags running around, doling out curses. (As soon as some kids realized that chocolate lifted the curse, they kept coming back for more curses. I had to put a limit on how many times I'd curse the same kid.)

I struggled at first on what to wear, but finally put together something I thought worked okay. You can't see all the glory in this picture (the huge rusted earrings, the thick gray witch stockings, the torn and ragged shirt, the moles, the blackened teeth). But as I trotted out to my kids to get opinions, they all shrieked.

I guess it did the trick:

A lot of people showed up in costume (mostly preschooler girls as fairies), and my family came to enjoy the evening as well.

When Brandon himself arrived and mulled around, I thought I should go say hello, because while we're not exactly close friends, we had met before when we sat at the same table at the Whitney Awards dinner in March. And I don't know about him, but fellow writers are always a happy sight for me.

But I don't think he recognized me. I mentioned my name. Nothing. That we were at the same Whitney table (WHEN YOU WON. REMEMBER THAT NIGHT?!). Nothing seemed to turn on a light bulb. I think he was stuck staring at the black teeth and icky eyebrows. He just smiled and nodded.

It was all I could do to not tell him that while I think Fablehaven is a really great series, that no, I'm not a weird fanatic woman who dressed up like a hag just for his party like most of the six-year-old fairies running around had. I was there working as a vol-un-teer.

And I'm a fellow writer. We have a ton of mutual friends. Oh, and I was a Whitney finalist too. That night, I presented one of the awards. Ring a bell? Rob Wells mentioned during the ceremony that I came up with the name of the award?

Hmm. How about: I was the only one at your table who didn't take home a trophy?

Never mind. Next time I'll be sure to talk to a fellow writer (NY Times bestseller or otherwise) when I'm, oh, not sporting two gigantic moles on my face.

But hey, I got my daughter's book signed. Before the actual book signing. So there. :D

My Funky Reading Habits

I’ve gotten better about not always finishing books that I start, which is a very good thing. Feeling compelled to finish a book I don’t like has been a bit of a curse for me—a curse I’ve had hanging over my head since high school.

Case in point: One year in English we were running out of time to read a novel before the end of term. Miss Drummond (whom I idolize; it’s because of her I’m a grammar fascista) summarized something like ten chapters and then told us to skip ahead.

I COULDN’T DO IT. I had to read the whole thing, which necessitated a few long nights of extra homework so I wouldn’t fall behind the rest of the—sane—class.

I know. I’m a sad, sad person.

Part of my obsession with finishing books is getting personal "credit" for them, because for many, many years, I’ve kept a running tally of the books I read. If I don’t finish a book, I can’t very well put it on my list of books I’ve "read" for the year, now can I?

Well, for 2008, I decided to make a sub-list: "Partially-read Titles." I cannot tell you how liberating that list has been. So far I’ve added half a dozen books to it in just the first five months of 2008. That is UNHEARD of for me.

Yippee! What freedom!

My other reading habits are still a bit odd, and I’m the first to admit it. The other day my husband noticed me swapping between various books and teased me about leaving four—yes, FOUR—books on the couch, all with bookmarks in them.

"Exactly how many books are you reading right now?" he asked.

"Oh, not that many," I assured him, with a dismissive wave of my hand. And then I began counting.

I always have at least one book in my purse or in the car. Ya never know when you’ll have time to read in a waiting room, lobby, or whatever. A car book is a MUST. That’s one.

There’s the one I’m reading to the kids at bedtime. That’s two.

The novel hubby and I read together before bed. That’s three.

The book I read a page or two of each night as I brush my teeth. That’s four.

And the classic I’m slowly working my way through (it’s not one you can sit down and absorb hundreds of pages of in a sitting, but I do love it). Five.

The library book I need to get through because it’s due in a couple of days. Six.

And don’t forget the one that #2 and I started awhile back and haven’t gotten around to finishing. Seven.

And the audio book I’m listening to via iPod. Eight.

The non-fiction book I pick up when I have a few spare minutes. Nine.

Not to mention two writing books I’ve cracked open a bit here and there but haven’t really committed to reading. I don’t think I should count those, though. Not until I have actual bookmarks in them.

I did have two books I was going through for research, but that project is on a backburner, so I'm not finishing them right now.

(No, I don’t have a book in the bathroom. At least, not right now. I have read plenty of books that way in the past, though. For now, that’s where I do my magazine reading. Of course.)

I have a stack of other books waiting for me on my dresser. I have two big cardboard boxes stuffed with books that I’m "storing" for my parents while they’re away. (In reality, Mom let me raid her bookshelves before she packed them up prior to their latest mission. She’s got some of the coolest books ever.) Then there’s the huge list of books I plan to read that grows faster than I take away from it.

Hubby asked if keeping all the stories and writing styles straight isn’t a bit difficult. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I suppose it is a bit odd to flip between Victorian literature, Fantasy, Non-fiction, LDS literature—and a couple of other genres—in the course twenty-four hours.

Or maybe I just have a short attention span.

Hey, look! What’s that over there?

Book Shopping Spree

I got my family doctor nearly thirteen years ago, well before I ever got published. As a result, he's sort of been watching my publication journey from the back seat. In addition to delivering all of my children, he knew when I got my first book contract and always asks about my latest projects any time I come in.

He's also the head of our local library's "Friends" organization. A few years ago, he needed a judge for a writing contest the Friends were sponsoring. I agreed to be one of the judges, and have done so each year since.

You can probably see where this is going. Pretty soon being a judge became being a part of the Friends of the Library. I now attend periodic meetings that the Friends of the Library hold every couple of months. We host events and do other neat things for the library. It's a pretty neat organization.

A week or so ago I was at another Friends meeting. The head librarian wasn't in attendance, being at another meeting doing Head Librarian things. The children's librarian was there, plus my doctor, and several other Friends board people who had been roped into membership by whatever means.

One of many decisions we made was way cool: to add a collection of digital audio books on these iPod-like devices, one book per device. You check out the little device, add a battery and your own earphones, and off you go. They're very cool, and much less likely to be destroyed than CDs so they'll last longer, yet they cost about the same per book.

The trick was deciding which titles to start with. The library needs about 50 to get the collection up and running. The children's librarian didn't want to pick the titles, being as she's swamped with other duties and just doesn't have the time.

Everyone else at the table seemed to have a deer in the headlights look, sort of a, "Don't look at ME!" expression.

But me? The idea sounded like the ultimate in book shopping, like walking through a bookstore with an unlimited credit card. Are you kidding me? I get to shop for FIFTY books? Any fifty on this list? COOL! Maybe it's the English Major in me. Maybe it's because I've read a lot and that I know a lot of books. I don't know. But I thought it'd be neat.

They practically threw the list at me. I trotted home with the list and showed my husband.

He glanced it and said, "As long as you don't pick Bleak House," and grinned.

He knows I love Dickens.

I couldn't wait to sit down with a bunch of chocolate and look over the pages. The only tricky part was not picking just my favorites (which was tough--I mean, there were THREE Jane Austen titles on the list. Must . . . be . . . strong . . .).

I had to be fair. This wasn't just for me, after all. This was for the library. I had to pick a selection that a lot of people would enjoy.

That meant both adult titles and YA titles, classics and new releases, fiction as well as non-fiction. So I did some searches on amazon.com to check some books I was unfamiliar with, made sure I got a several award-winners, some that were plain-old must-haves, and so forth.

The result, I think, is a well-rounded start.

And yes, I threw in Bleak House. I couldn't resist.