When I was in the fourth grade, a couple of the moms made several
visits to our class to teach us "life skills." They addressed topics
like how to make new friends, to be kind to others and so on. During one visit
they announced the final week would include a cupcake party, and we were each
to place an advance order so they would know how many to bake. Most kids
ordered chocolate. A handful of us ordered vanilla, and we were promptly
derided. That's boring, the chocolate-eaters said. Vanilla isn't even a real flavor.
The next week, the moms arrived bearing their tasty treats. The vanilla
cupcakes had whipped cream frosting and rainbow sprinkles. The chocolate
cupcakes were plain. And the rumblings soon began. What? No fair! How come you
got frosting? Trade with me.
No trades, we vanilla-eaters gloated. That's what you get for ordering stupid-old
chocolate. We have frosting, and you don't.
The adults let us grumble and gloat for a bit, then put an end to it. Quiet
down and eat your cupcakes, they said. So we did. And a funny thing happened.
The chocolate-eaters soon discovered a delicious surprise. The moms had baked
M&M candies into the bottoms of their cupcakes. A rich, colorful, chocolate
bonus. Huzzah! Chocolate was the best
choice after all, or so the complainers said.
That's when the moms explained their little experiment to us. Explained
how important it is to be grateful for what we receive, even when we might feel
someone else has something better. Explained that sometimes, even when life
seems most unfair, we could discover something unexpected, something wonderful,
something better than what we thought
Blah, blah, blah.
At the time, the message was lost on us kids. We mostly felt
manipulated, used, a bit like lab rats. Yet, their lesson seeped into my
subconscious and stayed with me. They were right, of course. It's not always
easy advice to follow, but they were 100 percent spot on.
As adults, too often, we're not a whole lot more mature than that group
of fourth graders — criticizing, teasing and judging others for their choices.
I've most recently experienced this phenomenon during discussions about books
and the differences between commercial and literary fiction. People are quick
to condemn others' reading preferences. You like literary fiction? That's so boring.
Oh, you read chick lit. Those books are trashy. Is that sci-fi? Why waste your time
reading about something that could never really happen?
Why can't we just say, Hey! You're reading a book. Cool. How is it?
With the explosion of e-books and print-on-demand publishing
technology, books have become much more accessible than they once were. There
are literally millions of books out there. Far too many for one person to ever
read. So why not celebrate the variety? Maybe that so-called boring literary
novel, if you take the time to savor it, just might have a delicious, satisfying surprise in the end.
And perhaps the chick lit that seems to be all whipped cream and sprinkles just
might satisfy your craving for a happy ending.
Those of us who write for a living, or aspire to, would be especially
wise to heed this advice.
For one thing, reading a wide range of genres expands our minds,
introduces us to new ideas and teaches us about good writing (or, sometimes,
about not-so-good writing, but that's also a beneficial thing). A voracious
reading appetite just might lead us to discover something unexpected, something
wonderful, something better than what we thought
we wanted from a book. That makes us stronger writers.
For another thing, having respect for all kinds of readers empowers us
to break barriers and attract fans to our stories that we might not have
anticipated. My debut historical novel, for example, was marketed as women's
fiction. Yet, I've received several amazing, thoughtful reviews from male
readers who were moved by the book's multiple perspectives on slavery and
freedom, and its universal themes of self-reliance, perseverance and hope.
It's just like those bakeries that have sprung up all over the place
that serve only cupcakes. You know
the ones. Dozens of flavors and combinations. Red velvet, pumpkin, peanut
butter chocolate, lemon-ginger, you name it. It blows my fourth-grade mind.
Eat whatever cupcake you want, and read whatever book you like. Don't
judge others for their choices. And don't be afraid to sample something different
once in a while. Have a chai latte cupcake with your historical fiction, or try
a rocky road cupcake with your paranormal thriller. It's all good.
p.s. A shout-out and long-overdue thank you to my fourth grade teacher
at Madison Park Elementary School, Mrs. Kuzmanoff, and the moms, Mrs. Free and
Mrs. Lawson, who took the time to share their talents and insights (and
cupcakes) with us kids.
If you enjoyed this post, please share it.