In the final part of this series on writing for the child, I want to talk about my third strategy for, well, writing for children! In Part II of this series, I gave examples from children’s books that use simpler, but not simple language; in Part III I used A Series of Unfortunate Events to demonstrate how authors can use “known” and “unknown” words to help child readers build larger lexicons. For the final installment of this series, I’m going personal (!) in order to show you how using concrete instead of abstract language can help child readers–and adults, for that matter–grasp complex ideas and themes.

 Use concrete instead of abstract language  

When I first started writing for children, I had been writing about children through literary criticism. My head was as full of academic terms and theories as it was of fantastical images and half-formed ideas. When I shared my work with my writer-in-crime and blog partner, Julie, she noted that despite simple sentence structure, the writing was a bit difficult to comprehend. She suggested that the issue was not with the complex ideas and that the fix was not necessarily simple sentences. The language I was using was too abstract. She suggested that perhaps child readers would prefer more concrete and immediate descriptions of feelings and events. Let me show you Julie’s comment to me and then how I revised the issue in one sentence

“Overall … for your most important themes, it seems you’re burying what’s possible for readers in abstract language. For instance, I’ve seen “reality” referenced throughout this section. “Reality” is not an easy concept for anyone to grasp. Just look at neuroscience and theology. But, humans can grapple with it more meaningfully if instead of using the word “reality” you invoke a sense of reality with [concrete] phrases…”

(Isn’t she fabulous?)

Here is one of the sentences Julie was talking about:

He especially liked the books where the characters themselves were allowed to slip into the story and those stories were allowed to come alive, to leap off the page and into reality.

The word and concept “reality” is what bothered Julie, and I agreed that it was not descriptive enough. After revising this sentence with more concrete language, it reads:

He especially liked the books where the characters themselves were allowed to slip into the story and those stories were allowed to come alive. One moment the barrier of a paper page would separate the imaginary from the person imagining and the next they would be standing side by side, breathing the same air, frowning at one another. 

It is not perfect yet. All writers have their issues, and my particular problem is with writing concretely.

But I am getting closer.

Using physical descriptions—standing, breathing, frowning—helps ground the concept of reality in a manageable way for younger readers without abandoning the complexity of the idea and the experience.

Additionally, concrete language is more enticing, pulling readers into the experience so that they can’t stop reading at 3 am in morning even though they have work or school the next day. Concrete descriptions are the bricks that build your fictional world and keep it standing. After implementing Julie’s advice, I realized how much more active and interesting my writing became, how much more appealing (I hope!) to a child (or adult!) audience.

As I continue to work on my novel, I keep my philosophy of writing for the story and the necessity of writing for my audience at the core of my writing process.

After having waxed poetic for 4 posts on the idea of writing for children, I’d love to hear from you. What challenges have you encountered writing for a child audience? How do you navigate them?