What is more creative than the act of learning?
Learning something new is anything but boring.
That lightbulb moment is truly electrical (pun intended). Think of it: neurons firing and communicating, connecting, ordering and reordering in multiple directions, and yes, even different dimensions! Forging new pathways in a neural jungle is not only creative, we become explores of worlds, treading new landscape. The infinite number of bridges the brain makes between words, symbols, facts and numbers is the stuff of legends. Memory, a foot soldier in learning, is itself mystical and strange. I have glimpsed a smudged black and white photo from a childhood event decades ago and smelled the hotdogs and campfire smoke while that unique wax-tinged birthday cake icing taste tingled on my tongue. We have weird, wild, wonderful brains!
If learning and brain powers are so fiercely jaw-dropping, why are textbooks soporific rather than stimulating? I can say with utmost sincerity that I have fallen asleep reading many, oh so many, textbooks. It never seemed to matter the subject or the learning level--from grade school to doctoral studies. Although they imparted the knowledge I needed, they were rarely stimulating. Certainly not magical! Meanwhile, classroom teachers and college profs are dancing and juggling fire to try to keep the attention of their students. I know. I have the arthritis in my hips and burn scars to prove it.
So when I learned about this thing called 'narrative nonfiction' or 'creative nonfiction,' you
can bet I was intrigued!
As an author of textbooks, admittedly on the anesthetic side of literature, I yearned to know more. So, I begin my journey of discovery ... searching for how to create educational materials with zing. How to share pithy knowledge between the covers of a textbook that don't send students to snooze land between those other covers in the bedroom.
As usual, I am going to go to the gurus of creative writing--children's book authors--to learn the craft. Yes, I am seeking to explore the landslide of beautiful nonfiction kidlit that is intriguing and snooze-defying. My first stop is a series of nature books by Dianna Hutts Aston and Sylvia Long, published by Chronicle Books. I looked at several: A Nest is Noisy, An Egg is Quiet, A Seed is Sleepy, A Butterfly is Patient, and A Rock is Lively. There are, I am sure, other titles this skilled duo has produced.
As I read through each one, I was effortlessly turning the page, wanting to read more, to delve deeply into the subject of each title.
Although there was no narrative story, there was an emotional ride for the reader.
Independent of plot or action, a connection was forged between the subject matter and me, the reader. Simply stated, I was tied into the journey between the pages. The sparse phrases on each page, such as 'a butterfly is patient; a butterfly is creative, a butterfly is helpful, a butterfly is protective,' brought the butterfly into my socio-emotional world. Each page, brought softly and stunningly alive with illustrations, provided evidence for each simple statement. There was a startling moment on one spread: 'a butterfly is poisonous.' Well, who could resist reading about killer butterflies? And the reader is enlightened about 'toxic or bad tasting butterflies' that birds learn to avoid by recognizing the colorful design that the toxic butterflies sport.
There are big concepts and words introduced, such as the terms pollination and metamorphosis. The illustrations support the words and provide context and more information, or further details. They are breathtakingly beautiful and idealistically real ... like classic still life. The colors are vivid. Which puzzled me, when I stopped to think about it, as the rich color does not overpower the soft feel of the story.
Nothing is jarring, but nothing is sedating, either!
There are 'double' end pages in this book. The first set of end pages are an illustration of the close up of a butterfly wing. The 'inner' end pages are full of illustrations of species of butterflies--each realistically drawn and labeled. As in the other books in this series, the end pages support the learning by providing visual detail. They illustrate terms or otherwise invite a reader to explore the topic more deeply. There are lovely learning surprises, too.
For example, in An Egg is Quiet, the end pages are jam-packed with drawings of eggs. Most of us tend to think immediately
of birds and eggs, but the end pages include fish and frog eggs and insect eggs. What a nice surprise leading into the book!
In An Egg is Quiet, my favorite page-phrase is 'an egg is clever.' How is an egg clever?
'An egg might be speckled to resemble the rocks around it. Or it might be gray, the color of mud by a lake. An egg does not want to be eaten by a raccoon or a snake or a fox or an insect.'
The language chosen by the author, although sparse, is active. Although there is not a narrative here, in terms of story and protagonists, there is a movement that impels a reader forward, inciting page turning. I think this is best illustrated in the book A Nest is Noisy:
A nest is noisy. It is a nursery of chirp-chirping ... buzzing ... squeaking ... peep-peeping ... bubbling babies.
The illustrations show a humming bird's nest, honey combs, alligator's nest (a jumble of eggs and babies), squirrel's nest, and frogs eggs with tadpoles. So fun! And the words are a wonderful mouthful of noisy movement.
The first book that drew me to exploring Aston and Long's series was the title, A Seed is Sleepy. I suppose it reached out to the gardener in me! The illustrations are intricate. The seeds are still life. Just beautiful. Four of my favorite pages:
A seed is secretive. It does not reveal itself too quickly.
A seed is inventive. To find a spot to grow, a seed might leap from its pod, or cling to a child's shoestring, or tumble through a bear's belly. A seed hopes to land where there is plenty of sunlight, soil, and water.
A seed is generous. It gives the baby plant, or embryo, a seed coat to keep it warm.
A seed is sleepy, but only until it has found a place in the sun and it has had its breakfast and a drink of water. Then, a seed is ...
And that last word is the word of the hour: AWAKE! There is a quiet energy that emanates from the book to the reader. It works. The brain chemistry is happening; those connections and pathways in the neural jungle are being forged.
So what have I learned from my little exploration of these creative nonfiction classics?
That a cornucopia of illustrations supporting highly distilled text is vital. This series 'illustrates' how tight writing and lavish artwork comes together to provide useful information--learning--that is anything but dreary.
That page-turning action can happen without a plot point structure. In other words, narrative 'action' can be word-sound or word-emotive based, rather than dependent on a story line with typical tension, climax, resolution of a plot line.
That a unique character, or protagonist, is not necessary to create a connection with the material. This series provides connection by a combination of word choice, pacing of material, and sentences (or questions) that head up each page that provide an socio-emotional link to the subject. We resonate with the subject because we feel--we identify with the experience occurring on the page. Like the seed, I have my own secrets, am sleepy at times, and aspire to being generous.
It works.
I will explore, in later blogs, narrative-based nonfiction, too, but am really happy that I choice this series first. Thank you, Aston and Long, for your ground-breaking creative nonfiction series.
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