Real vs. (and?) Imaginary
How my four-year-old's questions have me thinking about the spectrum of completely realistic to obviously made up, and the magic of fiction that feels true (or doesn't!)
These days, my four-year-old is very invested in knowing what is real and what is made up. His most frequently asked question is: “Is so-and-so real?”
He has recently determined that:
-Mo Willems is real, but Gerald and Piggie aren’t.
-The Phillie Phanatic is not real, but the person inside the Phanatic costume is. Ditto for Swoop, the Eagles’ mascot, although eagles actually exist while phanatics, sadly, do not.
- Emily Arrow is real, but the other characters on her new audio show—Trudy the Turtle, Cricket the Cricket, and Archer the Fox—are made up. However, the voice actors who play them are real. And also human.
-Dory Fantasmagory is technically imaginary, but her imaginary friends are, like, another level of imaginary.
Blippi seems real except that the Blippi on Netflix looks different from the Blippi on HBO Max, and that’s because Blippi is a fictional character created by a real person and played by at least two different real people. And there is also a cartoon of him, which someone must have drawn.
-Mommy doesn’t seem to know whether the tooth fairy is real and can’t answer simple questions about tooth retrieval logistics but promises to find a tooth fairy book ASAP, so details are TBD.
(If you have a tooth fairy book recommendation, please let me know.)
These real-or-not questions can get pretty complicated, it turns out. And what’s extra complicated to me, as a person who takes the process of making up stories and characters quite seriously, is that I don’t want to make “real” seem superior to “imaginary” when I give him answers.
I mean, there are definitely situations in which real is superior. We need factual truth when it comes to things like science, for instance. And there are times when it’s tricky to tell what’s real and what isn’t (ahem, social media), and then stuff that seems real but is only one carefully curated part of reality can make other people feel bad.
But in general, I’m a big fan of the imaginary. Imagined characters and stories can feel more meaningful, validating, and true than anything that’s technically “real,” in my experience. I’ve had so many big epiphanies about myself and the world because of reading novels, as a kid and as an adult. There’s something about seeing deep inside a fictional character that has always helped me see myself more clearly.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means for something to be—or feel—real, and how there are different tiers of imaginary. There are stories and characters that are obviously, delightfully, wildly imagined, so it’s easy to recognize them as made up, and then there are stories and characters that feel much closer to real life.
In general, my favorite books, shows, and movies are the ones that feel closest to real life, and I’m always aiming for realism in my writing, too. COVID-19 has complicated this process a bit because there are parts of pandemic-era life that I haven’t known how to delve into in fiction—and haven’t wanted to delve into, honestly. But still, I strive to weave authenticating details and nuanced, true emotions into stories that feel so seamless and realistic that nothing breaks readers out of the “fictive dream,” as John Gardner put it. I want to write novels that make people forget they’re reading novels, and for the most part, I want to read novels (and watch TV shows and movies) that are like that, too.
My husband has very different taste. He told me early on in our relationship that he loves fantasy and sci-fi books, shows, and movies because they’re more of an escape than realistic stories. There are plenty of fantasy and sci-fi stories I’ve loved, too—usually because of an emotional core or character dynamic that I can relate to—but the unfamiliar world of a fantasy or sci-fi story is a hump I need to get over before I can connect rather than part of the draw for me. I’d usually rather fall into a story that feels like it’s happening to me—or right smack next to me—rather than escaping somewhere else.
But not always. Lately, I’ve been craving a break from reality, or at least a step back from it, in some of what I read and watch. I’ve been drawn to more historical fiction than ever before—in part because a lot of things feel heavy and hard these days, and I have some distance from the toughest realities the characters experience in historical fiction. There’s comfort in seeing what people have endured in the past and appreciating all the ways they managed to find joy and connection amidst hardships. I’m also all in for anything zany and hilarious lately—no matter how far-fetched—as long as there’s a lot of heart.
My kids sometimes gravitate to stories that are clearly removed from reality, too. My six-year-old is up for any picture book. But when it comes to chapter books and early readers, she has a strong preference for stories that feature animals instead of people. I think they feel safer because they’re so obviously pretend.
As long as the characters are elephants, pigs, narwhals, foxes, etc., she’s on board. But she has turned down many a chapter book I think she’d love because the cover shows illustrated people instead of animals. She is now obsessed with the Princess in Black books, but it took a while before she wanted to give them a chance. She would listen in for a few minutes here and there when I read them to her brother and then leave the room, insisting they weren’t her kind of book. Then she’d sneak them into her room to try to read a few pages at a time by herself, then she started to be willing to *play* Princess in Black, and then after that, she was in. (Really in. She keeps a stack of them by her bed with a flashlight and knows the next one in the series comes out April 11, 2023 because she got me to look it up weeks ago. And now you know, too—you’re welcome.) Now she knows how funny and joyfully over-the-top they are, but something about a longer book with more text plus people made her uneasy, and she needed to ease in.
Her brother, on the other hand, is equally game for people and animal characters, but he can’t stomach stories that depict a certain kind of disappointment or vulnerability—even if they star characters he adores, and even if everything works out in the end. While his sister finds great comfort in the way characters face big disappointments in Oge Mora’s beautiful picture book Saturday, he can’t bear to sit with us while we read it unless I can find a way to change the story so that everything goes the way the girl and her mom want (which would take away the entire arc of the story…). He loves every Elephant and Piggie book except Should I Share My Ice Cream and I Love My New Toy (it’s too upsetting to him that—spoiler alert!—Gerald’s ice cream melts and Piggie’s toy appears to break).
And he loves every Frog and Toad story except “Ice Cream” (more melting ice cream :( ) and “The Swim” (which I actually agree with him about—it’s not okay that everyone is so mean about poor Toad’s bathing suit!). He knows these stories and characters are made up, but the emotions are still too real and tender, and that’s just fine.
To channel Anne of Green Gables—isn’t it wonderful that we live in a world with all kinds of stories in it? There’s a need for books that fall at all the points on the real-to-imaginary spectrum, and we all might find ourselves craving different levels of realism at different times.
What a gift it is when stories give us characters who are technically made-up but offer us very real insight, comfort, and self-compassion. And what a gift it is when we get to choose the kind of story we’re in the mood for, and put it down or read only a snippet if that’s what feels right.
This week is Banned Books Week, which feels especially charged this year in the midst of so many book challenges and bans. There is so much beautiful variety in the world of children’s and young adult books right now, and it’s devastating to think about all the book bans and challenges that threaten to take away kids’ opportunity to learn about themselves, each other, and the world in just the kind of story they crave, in just the way that suits them.
I am more appreciative than ever of the educators and librarians who are working so hard to connect kids with books under such profoundly difficult circumstances. I hope we can all do what’s in our power to show support for librarians, teachers, and authors of books facing challenges and to honor kids’ right and ability to choose the books they want and need.
News and Events
I’m still trying to get out the word about my latest release, Coming Up Short, and I have several fun events coming up! On this Saturday, September 24th, I’ll be doing a reading and signing at H&H Books in the Kensington/Fishtown neighborhood of Philadelphia at 11am, and I’d love to see local friends.
I’ll also be at the Maplewood/South Orange Book Festival in Maplewood, NJ (not far from where I grew up, in Morristown) on October 2nd from 11am-4pm, and then at the Chappaqua Book Festival in Chappaqua, NY on October 15th, and at the NCTE convention in Anaheim in November. If you’re in any of those places, I hope we can connect!
My last newsletter included a round-up of essays and interviews related to Coming Up Short, and one of the links went to the wrong place. So if you’d like to read “All the Ways to Be Strong and Brave,” my guest post about rethinking strength in female characters for Teen Librarian Toolbox, you can do that here.
And a reminder that I now have a free discussion and activity guide for Coming Up Short, and I’m booking both virtual and in-person school and book club visits for this year! Please get in touch if you’d like to set something up.
Please leave a review!
If you’ve read and enjoyed any of my books (but especially the most recent two, Saint Ivy and Coming Up Short), I’d be so very grateful if you could leave a brief review on Amazon (you don’t have to buy the book there to review it there) and/or Goodreads. Reviews really help spread the word about books. If you leave a text review in one of these places, I’d love to send you a special postcard to say thank you if you’d like. Just send me an email or message to let me know!
Recommendations
I mentioned that I’ve been into historical fiction lately. I ADORED the new League of their Own series. And one historical YA novel I loved is Great or Nothing, a Little Women retelling set in 1942 and co-written by Joy McCullough, Caroline Tung Richmond, Tess Sharpe, and Jessica Spotswood. I listened to the audio, which was fabulous.
My kids are obsessed with Emily Arrow’s “Story Bike” audio show (which has wonderful songs and delightful characters and delves into lots of great social-emotional learning stuff in a really fun, accessible way)—I highly recommend it for ages 4-6. The Princess in Black audiobooks are also a huge hit—narrated by the incomparable Julia Whelan.
I also splurged on a package of frozen Levain bakery cookies that I can heat up one at a time when I inevitably get tired and crave chocolate in the afternoon. They are making me SO happy.
Happy almost fall and thanks for reading, as always!
Love Laurie
I saw this one on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lulu-Missing-Tooth-Fairy-Richey/dp/B09WPZSRNP/ref=sr_1_2_sspa?crid=JXT1DXCSHGYB&keywords=william+joyce+tooth+fairy+picture+book&qid=1663687070&sprefix=william+joyce+tooth+fairy+picture+book%2Caps%2C84&sr=8-2-spons&psc=1&spLa=ZW5jcnlwdGVkUXVhbGlmaWVyPUEyUkNESkxFQU9CMlZFJmVuY3J5cHRlZElkPUEwNTYxMDUwVElBWkdDNFJBVUtRJmVuY3J5cHRlZEFkSWQ9QTAwMjIwMTAyVzFXWElPM1dPVFcyJndpZGdldE5hbWU9c3BfYXRmJmFjdGlvbj1jbGlja1JlZGlyZWN0JmRvTm90TG9nQ2xpY2s9dHJ1ZQ==
I haven’t read it though. I searched because I saw the movie Rise of the Guardians and wondered if William Joyce had a picture book on the tooth fairy, since she is one of his characters in his chapter book series. That’s when I saw the above book.
Laurie, I love your books. But writing wise I tend to gravitate toward science fiction and fantasy for the same reason your husband gave. Depression was my default setting for a long time, so I read to escape.