Middle Grade Review: The Summer of Bad Ideas

 

Title: The Summer of Bad Ideas

Author: Kiera Stewart

Publication Info: HarperCollins, 2017. 304 pages

Source: Library digital resources

Publisher’s Blurb:

In this funny, big-hearted friendship story, perfect for fans of Wendy Mass and Linda Urban, twelve-year-old Edie and her impossibly cool cousin, Rae, set out to complete a mysterious list of “Good Ideas for Summertime” that their eccentric late grandmother wrote back when she was their age.

But good ideas? Most of them seem like bad ideas. Reckless. Foolish. Ridiculous. Still, by accomplishing everything on the list, rule-abiding Edie feels certain that she can become the effortlessly brave adventurer she dreams of being, just like her daring cousin and bold grandmother. For this one summer at least, bad ideas are the best shot she has at becoming who she wants to be.

Bad Idea Number One: It’s time for a new set of rules.

My Review:

I took my sweet time finishing this one, but that was because of distractions (like driving across the country), not any real problem with the book. I did seem to be easily distracted in the first few chapters, but that's pretty normal for me.

Edith--Edie--is a likeable and relatable heroine. I could certainly relate to the geeky misfit aspect of her character, though not to the over-protective parents problem (my parents were blessedly trusting and liberal, as were many in the 1960s and 70s before we all became paranoid). In a way, there are two issues being developed here: Edie's need to learn to accept herself so that she can make and have friends (and her need to discover that she's not really so very unique with her anxieties and failings), and her need to break out of the fear-limits that have been in part developed out of her mother's over-protective parenting. Honestly, someone should have shaken that woman a long time ago, but with luck it's not too late for Edie. 

Some of the things on Petunia's (the grandmother's) list might be bad ideas, and most lead to trouble, but the idea behind the list is a good one: push your limits and find out who you are, or make yourself who you want to be. Of course, that's easier said than done, and doesn't Edie know it! In a different sort of way, this is a coming-of-age novel that has something for everyone, as we watch Edie discover herself and learn what makes a real friendship.

My Recommendation:

Ages 9 or so and up (the issues Edie faces are somewhat particular to middle school, but the friendship-insecurities start much younger for many). This is required reading for any geek who is scared of the outdoors, and anyone who thinks that she is the only not-cool kid around. It might also be required reading for any parent who is afraid to let their 7th-grader go to the store by herself. 

Full Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of The Summer of Bad Ideas from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."    

Helping Kids Grow Up

This week, for the Kid Lit Blog Hop, I'm tackling Part II of the discussion I started last week on Middle Grade Fiction and how authors give kids room for autonomy.  We can see the reasons kids in those books often have no parents, or are somehow separated from parents (everywhere from Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket to Gary Paulson and classic tales like the Narnia books or even Huck Finn).  And while the level of adulthood to which those kids rise is sometimes unbelievable, and the stresses put on them obviously not what we want for our kids, I can't help looking at them and thinking about the level of self-sufficiency my own kids have (or don't have).

We live in a world (at least here in the US of A) where kids are more and more protected, and less and less allowed to wander freely and discover the world on their own.  I grew up in a time and place where from a pretty young age (when we were all three pre-teens) my brothers and I were allowed to wander on our own.  But that was mostly in the woods, not in the city (we never lived in anything like a city, or even much of a town).  We learned to do stuff, both fun stuff outdoors and, because both my parents worked (at least part of the time), we learned to do stuff at home--like cook.  Being poor may have helped--we had responsibilities that mattered, unlike the heavy consequences of my boys forgetting to take out the trash or fold the laundry.  (Of course, if they don't learn a little more cooking in the next few years, they'll find that there are unhappy consequences to that ignorance).

We've done our best to give our kids the freedom to do what we did as kids, but now we live in the city (more of an urban suburb, really), and while I don't worry too much about safety, frankly the place just isn't as interesting as the forests and beaches my brothers and I explored.  So I can give them freedom, but will they take it?

And what about the bigger challenge: teaching our kids to be more self-sufficient, encouraging them to learn the skills they need to get by on their own?  Short of dumping them out of a crashed plane in the middle of the Canadian North (Hatchet), how do we get them to take responsibility?

And do we think that reading about kids who are very capable and independent helps our kids to think about becoming that way themselves?  I'm pretty sure it did for me.

So what do you do to make sure your kids develop at least a small part of the self-sufficiency of the Pevensies or the Famous Five?  Not to mention Laura Ingalls Wilder or Gary Paulson's heroes?

Middle Grade Fiction: Giving Kids Autonomy

As I have mentioned (since it sparked several reviews), there's been some discussion lately about missing and dead parents in Middle Grade fiction. I also recently did a post on books about boarding schools, and all this together has made me think about the importance of giving kids autonomy, both in books and in reality.

So this week I'm going to start a discussion about ways that authors give kids autonomy.  Next week I'll continue it with a discussion of what we parents do or should do to help our kids achieve some fraction of the level of self-sufficiency that the heroes of their books have.

 An obvious literary approach to getting parents out of the way is the orphan story.  That's easy.  No parents, lots of need to fend for yourself, especially in a historical or fantasy setting where there's no state structure to step in and offer substitutes (though given what I know of the foster system in my state, anyway, any kid who comes out of that with their head on straight and going in the right direction has plenty of gumption and self-sufficiency).

So if you don't want to kill off the parents, how else do you get the kids on their own?  There's boarding school (see last week's discussion, to which I now suddenly realize I should add Tamora Pierce's Tortall novels of Alanna and Keladry going through page training--if that isn't boarding school, I don't know what is.  Complete with strict adults who must be circumvented).  In many of the books I loved as a kid, parents simply gave kids carte blanche to roam, and they then could fall into adventures (think of Enid Blighton's "Famous Five).  This wasn't so far off reality back then; my brothers and I ran around in the woods and on the beach for hours at a time without checking in with parents.  In essence, the author (and the kids) can then just ignore the parents.

Historical fiction often makes more room for kids to be proactive and self-sufficient, as well.  That seems to have been reality.  Even little kids had chores and had to learn fast to do them themselves.

In one of my works in progress, I just made the main characters 16 or so, and put them on their own. Old enough to make it plausible, young enough that they don't have to do the adult love stuff (which I don't seem to want to write, and certainly not in a book aimed at kids).

And, of course, ultimately every kid is to some degree on her own in working out life's issues.  The bigger the issues, the more likely kids seem to be to keep them inside and try to go it alone.  So the parents can be right there and still the kids have to deal on their own.

Can you come up with any more approaches that writers use to make it plausible to have kids doing major (often adult-like) things?