In case you are interested, I posted Chapter Two of The Kindling.
You can read it here. I hope you enjoy it. 

Before I started writing, I read a great deal. My predominant recreational activity has always been reading--I prefer it to TV,movies, talking, and certainly any kind of athletics. No matter how late it is at night, I can't go to sleep until I've read at least a few lines of whatever book I'm currently reading. When I do yard work or exercise, I'm nearly always listening to a recorded book, and often listen to a recorded book when driving, which is frequently. 

In other words, I have derived a great deal of enjoyment and satisfaction, enlightenment and entertainment over the years from books. While not everyone is into books to quite that degree, I think that many of us at least have books or authors we particularly enjoy and cherish. 

Until I became a writer, though, I didn't think much about the relationship between readers and writers. I didn't even consider that it was a relationship--in the sense of there being give-and-take and that each party had, or could have, a part to play. 

Now that I'm an author and know some other authors, that has changed and I spend a great deal of my time thinking and worrying about how to connect with readers, how to start and maintain a relationship and so on. 

One other thing I didn't realize was just how much a reader can help a writer--which seems only fair since the writer has worked so long to bring me so much enjoyment. 

On the assumption that there are readers out there who are like I was, I thought I'd post a few suggestions on how you can help the writers or the kind of books you really like. 

I'm going to tell you how, in about 5 minutes a day you could seriously help authors you like. 

Some writers have big publishers with big marketing budgets. Most don't. Consequently, most books live or die by word of mouth. If you have a book you like, or an author you like, talk about it. Tell a friend or two.

This is easy to do in the age of Facebook and Twitter. Just write something like, "Reading xxxx by so-and-so. Love it!" Little things like that can go a very long way. Many books and authors have pages or groups on Facebook and liking those can be a good way to help as well. You can also follow them on Twitter. Some agents and publishers pay a lot of attention to how many blog followers, Facebook fans, and Twitter followers authors have. 

You can also join Goodreads (www.goodreads.com). It's very easy to go on and rate books. You can leave a short (or long) review if you like, but that's optional. 

Another very helpful thing to do is to rate books you like on Amazon. Getting good ratings helps the book get more attention and signals other people they might like it. 

I've started writing a short review in a word document. I then paste it in on Goodreads, give it a rating and do the same on Amazon. It's fast and easy and many authors would appreciate this.

One note: if you are going to rate a book, please read it all the way. Every author I know has received bad reviews. This is part of the business and it's life. Wise authors learn from these and improve. 

But it's incredibly frustrating to write something and get a bad review and then realize that the person writing the bad review has not read the book all the way. Or has missed something. I got a tepid review that drove me crazy--not because of the lower rating, but because the reviewer completely missed a major plot point, and the commented on how the book wasn't believable. That was maddening. Honest criticism is fine, but if you are going to do a review, be careful that you are accurate. 

Those things are incredibly easy and fast and I have decided to do this for every book I read that I like. 

One other thing that is important to realize is that most authors make very little money. Some lose it. A few make huge sums--but that is extremely rare. Most authors write because they like to and hope that what they read will please someone. 

I don't hang out with big-time authors like Stephenie Meyer, J. K. Rowling, or Orson Scott Card. I'm sure they get more fan mail than they can manage. But most authors in the middle and lower ranks really enjoy hearing from readers. It's incredibly personal to write a book and there is a great deal of vulnerability that comes with publishing your work. Beyond that, it's something you spent hours and hours working on. So, hearing that someone liked it is validatin was enjoyable to someone out there. Most authors have websites or blogs and it's easy to write a quick comment: "Hey, I really loved xxxxx." 

Many authors enjoy talking about their work--the characters and worlds in their books are so real to them. Likely, though, their family and close friends are tired of hearing about it all. So if you have a book club, an author might be thrilled at the chance to come discuss or answer questions. A lot of authors do this via Skype. Some will come in person. Some will at least answer emails. Of course, everyone has their own preferences and most authors are working other jobs and so they can't always do stuff like this because it takes away from writing time. 
But every author I know (and again, I don't know every author) enjoys getting thoughtful questions about their work. 

I've been posting these pictures and memes on my author page on Facebook, but I realized that not everyone who reads this blog is in that group (why ever not, I have no idea--it's a constant party. But that's your business.) At any rate, I thought I'd put them up here as well.

These pictures were taken for the book trailers I'm working on. I thought they turned out quite well. I've only got two more pictures to take and then I can start putting the rest of the trailers together. If you missed it, there is a quick teaser trailer here. 

There will be more to come, photos and trailers, so stay tuned!

Here is the inciting moment of the story--Conner Dell does something that lights the school bully's gym shorts on fire. 

Conner's twin sister, Lexa, who has a problem. 

Lexa's best friend Melanie Stephens, who overhears some unsettling news. 

The three of them facing something unpleasant. 

Mrs. Grant, the English teacher. 

Madame Cumberland, the French teacher. Yes, I need to fix the lettering. It got a bit wonky. 

Last of all the three teachers--Mrs. Grant, Dr. Timberi, and Madame Cumberland getting ready to fight. You would be amazed at what can be done with a red pen, conductor's baton, and yardstick. 

I thought that since it was Mother's Day this weekend, I'd take a minute and reflect on the gifts that my own mom gave me when I was in middle school--the things she did as a mother that have served me well throughout my life. 

Just for the record, I was one of the biggest pains in the world during middle school. I was a tumultuous, stormy little beast back then. I really was. 

My mom wasn't perfect. She made mistakes. However, I have realized something important over the years. The mistakes she made have all been washed away in the ebb and flow of time. None of them matter any more. The things she did well have blessed me continually. 

Here are some of the things my mom did well:

1. She didn't interfere. She knew where I was and with whom I was, but she didn't intrude or insert herself into my social life. I had rules and parameters--curfews and so on, but she really didn't care about the lastest gossip--which of my friends were going out with girls or things like that. When I had spats with other kids, she always refused to get involved and told me I'd have to work it out myself.

This empowered me to make my way in the world and feel confident in my ability to solve problems. It gave me sense of agency and independence. When it was time for me to leave the house and be on my own, I was ready. Going away to college and then a two-year church mission were not difficult (at least in that aspect) because I was used to solving my own problems and being independent. By letting me work things out on my own when the stakes were fairly low, she gave me the gift of being able to work things out when the stakes were higher. She was there to walk me through things, but she would not intercede. 

2. She made me work. Growing up, I had various chores. Weeding, vacuuming, cleaning bathrooms, mowing the lawn, making dinner and so on. This was a real pain for my mom because none of us kids ever did the job well the first time, so she had to invest a lot of time checking and re-checking and listening to our excuses, protestations, and arguments. She could have done all this herself in probably 1/3rd of the time it took to get us to do this. 

I hated the work more than I can say. But when I left home at 18, I knew how to cook. Well. I knew how to do laundry, iron, and clean a bathroom, a refrigerator, and on and on. When I got my own house, I knew how to garden, weed, mow a lawn, and other basics of home maintenance. I started my adult life already knowing how to do all these things and that was a huge help. 

3. She was an adult. Instead of sinking to my level and trying to be cool, trying to talk or dress like a teen, my mom was an adult and I got the idea she enjoyed being an adult. That gave me something to aspire to, and it gave me someone to respect, even when I didn't like her very much. 

As I got older and the storms of adolescence faded, I came to see what a great gift this is. Teenagers are naturally egocentric. They will naturally think they are the center of the universe. My mom helped me understand I was not and she helped pull me out of the roiling seas of adolescence to the firmer shore of adulthood. And I find it much more congenial there. 

4. She refused to be manipulated. As I mentioned in number 2, there were times I didn't like her. Times I was mad. Times I raged and stormed and bellowed at the unfairness of all she required. She was immoveable and unyielding in sticking by her guns. 

5. She sided with my teachers. Always. I hated this. But any trouble in school would be met with swift retribution at home. This really forced me to focus and do my best in school. I hated school, quite frankly. I was lazy and undisciplined and probably had ADD (it wasn't known back then). So, I hated every minute of it. If I had known that I could get away with slacking or goofing off, I would have done it in a second. I would not have pushed myself, I would not have tried at all. I would have checked out completely. I was a pretty creative kid and would have been able to do a lot of wiggling and weaseling had I thought it would avail. I would have played my parents against my teachers if I thought I would have been able to get away with it. 

I hate to think of where I would have ended up. Happily, mom insisted that I behave and wouldn't let me check out. This was a lot of work for her. But I knew I couldn't slide by with not turning in assignments or things like that. I knew I couldn't misbehave and then say things like, "Well, Mr. S0-and-so just doesn't like me." 

6. She made my go outside. In our house, TV was strictly limited. We were expected to go and play outside for most of the day and we did. I have such happy memories of those times, now. My siblings and I entertained ourselves and made up all kinds of fun, imaginative games. I also did a lot of reading, which has obviously blessed my life as well. 

7. She put my dad first. My dad did the same. All of us kids knew that the marriage came first and that Mom and Dad were one unit. We couldn't play them against each other and knew better than to try. They lived for each other and they were (and are) the center of each other's universes.

As a kid that sort of bugged me when I saw friends who were the center of their parent's universe. But even at the time, it provided a great deal of security for me. I knew that my home was built on a rock solid foundation and that my parents were together for the long haul. In the long term, it helped prepare me for my own marriage and taught me how to be a husband first. 

8. She encouraged our imaginations. As long as I can remember, we had a big drawer full of paper and there were always markers and paint and other art supplies--a big basket of them, in fact. Mom encouraged us to use our imaginations and make things. She kept up with the latest books in children's literature, and our bookshelves were stocked with Newbery award winners and other books that had merit. We had library cards and used them. She kept beautiful music playing.

9. She didn't spoil us. My parents were affluent--my father was a successful lawyer during the boom years of the 80s. We lived a comfortable life, but had very modest possessions. Their philosophy was that, as parents, they owed us clothing, but not Reeboks and other expensive stuff. So, they would give us a dollar amount they'd spend on our clothes. If we wanted something above that, we came up with the rest of it. 

When we wanted something fun or nice--a bike or a stereo--they would always pay half and we would save the other half. 

They put a lot of money into savings and life insurance and so on, building an emergency supply of food and other necessities (this was in the Cold War, and we lived near a major Air Force base). This all created a feeling of security and stability. We felt safe and secure. 

It also taught me to be frugal and careful with money. They spent lots of money on lessons and family vacations and a boat so we could water-ski together--but they were very careful about how and what they spent their money on. 

10. My mom loved us. She loved us far more than herself or her own comfort or hobbies. She devoted herself to us and our happiness. She expected things of us and she was firm, but she was not harsh or unkind. We knew she would do anything for us. I remember in 11th grade procrastinating a huge research paper. This was back in the days of typewriters, and I sat at the dining room table plunking away with my tw0-fingered technique, going nowhere fast. It got later and later. Somewhere around 11, Mom appeared. She took over the typing and, since she actually knew how to type, it went much faster. But since I was just making it up as I went, not a lot faster. I had some notes, I think, and I was using generous quotations from an encyclopedia. I fell asleep at one point. When I woke up, it was 2 am. Mom was still typing. 

11. She welcomed my friends. Even though they were strict with curfews and what movies I could go see, my parents always welcomed my friends. I could have a party anytime I wanted, and she always kept ice cream and chips and other teen-friendly foods on hand when our friends came to hang out. Smart woman. 

In short, my mom loved us enough to do things that would bless us in the long-term instead of doing things that would make her life easier in the short-term. At the time, a lot of this bugged me. My frustration at the time is matched only by the gratitude I have felt ever since leaving home. The more I live and see, the more grateful I am that she was the way she was. That's what I mean when I say that the effect of her weaknesses or mistakes have long since been negated, but the good things she did were investments that continue to pay dividends.

As I write this with a father's perspective, I realize that most of what my mom did that was good was also hard. It took discipline on her part and an eye to the long view. It meant loving us enough to do hard things. 

And that is a lesson and of itself. 

Thanks, Mom. 

One of the things I dislike most about our contemporary society is how polarized we are, and how nearly everything has become a political issue. Since mothers have been a campaign issue not-so-many-news-cycles-ago, I was a bit reluctant to post anything about mothers today. But then I thought that was stupid. Just because some people have politicized it doesn't mean the rest of us can't still honor mothers and motherhood.

Being a teacher, I've spent a lot of time over the years with mothers. Mothers and teachers are sort of a natural combination as we do similar things with and for similar people.

Over the year, mothers have monitored dressing rooms, created props,  sewn costumes, painted scenery, run concessions, managed ticket sales and so on. They've driven trucks and pulled trailers, gone over lines and a myriad of other things. That's just in my program. Around our school they do so much, so very much that keeps the school going. Everything from shelving books in the library to running our professional art show, which is a two year commitment and basically makes them CEO of a large non-profit organization.

One of the things I think we don't always appreciate is that mothers do a huge amount of volunteer work outside of the home and work, accomplishing a great deal of good in the larger community. I've spent my life working at non-profits and I can say without hesitation that our greatest volunteer corps has always been mothers. Without them, non-profits would have a serious problem. 

I come from a long line of mothers who don't like Mother's Day because it makes them feel guilty. They focus on mistakes they've made, things they wish they had done differently and so on. I know this is not a happy day for a lot of women. I also know there are women who want to be mothers and aren't, or who's family situations bring pain--and on an on as people deal with the trying vicissitudes of life.

To me, this day is not about celebrating perfect, idealized mothers from a Norman Rockwell painting, because she doesn't exist. Nor is it about arguing about whether Claire Huxtable or June Cleaver is the better mother.

It's simply a day to acknowledge that mothers do a lot. They do a lot for their families. They do a lot for their  schools, churches, synagogues, and communities. Frankly, they do a lot for our civilization. A world without mothers, even imperfect ones, would be a grim and unlovely place.  

I suggest it should also be a day to acknowledge that mothers don't need to be perfect to make a huge difference. 

A few years ago, my wife went to take care of her parents after emergency surgery, so I took over at home for a week. I'm competent at keeping a house, so my children had clean clothes and food and I got them where they needed to be in time. In operational terms, no one would have noticed that my wife was not there. I was able to execute all the necessary tasks. 

But during this week, one of our small children got hurt. Not a serious injury, but it hurt him a lot. He cried and cried that he wanted his mom. I could clean and bandage the wound, hug him and so on, but there was something he felt was missing. There was something about my wife's presence that he needed and wanted. It went beyond what she did to who she was, what she has inside of her.

I think that moms are like that. Their love and empathy is a powerful balm for skinned knees or broken hearts, some kind of divine spark that provides comfort and love for us--and not just when we are young children. Christina Rossetti referred to her mother as "my heart's quiet home" and that is an elegant, incisive way of putting it (h/t to Luisa Perkins, from whom I first heard that quoted).

Moms provide this whether they work inside or outside the home, whether  they do laundry or send bundles to the dry cleaners, whether they bake bread or buy it at either Whole Foods or Wal-Mart. Mothers provide this whether or not they are impatient or lose their tempers sometimes, and they provide this even if they don't measure up to self-imposed standards. Mothers do this just because they do. Just because they are mothers.

I would add that, over the years, me and my children have been blessed by the actions of women who were not their mothers. So many women have mothered so many children that were not theirs in the biological sense. We've seen this time and time again, and I am grateful for these women.

After every play, my students usually call me come out to take a bow. I don't like this. In fact, I really, really don't like it. It embarrasses me because I don't want it to be about me. I don't want the audience to think I've told them to do it. I feel like the success of the play is attributable to far more hands and hearts than my own. So, last time we did a play, I told the kids they were not to bring me out. They obeyed and did not call me out for a bow on opening night. 

That night, my wife found out and discussed this with me in unusually stern terms. She told me that the kids loved me and wanted to express that publicly and this was the way they knew how. It might be clumsy or uncomfortable for me, but it was ungracious to not allow them their chance to show their appreciation.

She was right. So I countermanded the order and let the kids bring me out for the last two nights. It was uncomfortable for me, but I could see that it actually did make many of the kids happy. 

May I suggest that this applies to mothers today? I know that this is not a happy day for many of you, that you don't relish this day. But we love you! Individually and collectively. We need you! You do so much for us and we want to tell you that. We want to make a big deal of you. 

You don't have to be perfect and you don't have to fit specific externally-imposed models and meet specific criteria. You are wonderful and you do so much good in a million ways. Just by being you (I think Mr. Rogers was the one who said that. I know it's cheesy, but it's so true).

Thank you to all the women in my life. To the mothers who supported the activities I enjoyed when I was a kid, to the mothers who support the activities I now offer to my students. To the mothers everywhere who raise responsible children against difficult odds. Most of all, to the mother who raised me and to the mother who shares a home and family with me: Thank you! I love you.

Happy Mother's Day.

Good morning everyone. If you are interested, my publisher is sponsoring a giveaway of The Kindling on Goodreads. It's very easy to sign up and you might win a free book. If you are interested, click here. Or, if you are a cautious type who is nervous about clicking on links you can't see, here is the full link: http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/25615-the-kindling?page=3

I'm very excited today, and was a bit emotional earlier because my book, The Kindling went to press today. That means it's being printed and is on en route from being an idea in my head to being a physical, tangible book. It's difficult to express how this feels or what it means. 

I looked at the date on the first draft. March 18, 2009. It's been a long, long time. Some of that is because I'm obsessive about rewrites. But most of that is because a great deal has happened in my life since then. So, it's all the more exciting to see it getting so close to being a reality. 

Being a theatrical creature, I'm used to creating in a collaborative way--there are actors, designers, technicians--all kinds of people with whom you can talk and discuss. You bounce ideas off each other and there is a potent synergy created. 

Writing a book is much, much different. It is done in isolation. I have a wonderful critique group who read it and give feedback as I go, and my kids are very good at this, too. But it's not the same. As an introvert, part of this is wonderful. But it's also odd after years of theatre work, and it is a little scary. What if you think something is really funny or suspenseful or cool--and then readers find it lame? 

So, there are two relationships that come to be very meaningful to an author. First of all is the cover designer. Covers sell books. People do judge a book by its cover. And so an author is extremely dependent on the designer to make his words into something that will hopefully entice a reader, something the author can be proud of. I've blogged before about the wonderful designer who did my cover. I've been so grateful for her good work.

I haven't talked, however, about the editor. Gosh, I love my editor! I already trusted Melissa because we worked on my first book. I felt that she was sensitive to my voice and my words, but also brought a clear head and sharp eye. 

One of the best things an editor can do for an author is take out the parts that are lame. The parts that don't work, find the mistakes and so on. I've heard horror stories from other authors about editors who were overly harsh and prescriptive. I've heard horror stories about the other side of things as well, editors who didn't make any suggestions or changes, who really didn't seem to care about the book.

So, I'm grateful for my editor, who walked that line well, I think. Who seemed to care about the book and wanted it to work, who was open to my suggestions and thoughts and also had a firm hand when the prose needed it. She was generous with the changes she allowed me to make, and was also very patient with my appalling and persistent misuse of commas. 

It is a cliche to refer to a book as your child. But it's a cliche because it's true and accurate and so people use it all the time. So, today, as my baby is shipped off to the printers, I want to take a moment and thank the literary OB/GYN/Midwife. 

Thanks, Melissa!

In the previous two posts, I've generalized from my experience to describe what you might expect from 6th graders (here) and 7th graders (here). Today, I'll finish by describing 8th graders. 

I've already given all of the caveats--this is simply my experience and so on, but there is one more important one I need to add. I teach in a K-8 school, so 8th graders are functionally seniors. They have a great deal of responsibility, as well as commensurate opportunities for leadership. This makes a difference, I think, in how they act. I suspect that students in a 7-9 Junior High School model might act differently in some ways. So just keep that in mind. 

The good news is that most 8th graders don't experience the vast ups and downs common in 7th grade. Most likely, there will be a degree of stability. The bad news is that childhood is just about over.  

This can be good and bad, or rather, good and bittersweet. For example, 8th graders will probably not be quite as irrationally embarrassed of you. However, they will probably not be quite as affectionate or outwardly loving. The good news is that they will probably be more autonomous and independent with things like school work and some of their own maintenance. However, they will also show a commensurate degree of independence and autonomy in emotional ways. They will need you a little less. That can be a painful change. I would not that this may be especially pronounced in boys. 

Don't make the mistake of taking this personally. It is part of the natural process of growing up, but it can smart and sting a parent. My suggestion is to grieve privately, don't make your child feel guilty for this natural process.

The way I think of it is this: when my students (or my own children) are 6th graders, I am helping them through their last year of childhood. In 7th grade, I'm helping walk them through a very awkward and painful transition. In 8th grade, I'm now teaching (or parenting) baby adults. 

They are very, very young adults, but they are beginning to think in adult terms and live in a more adult world by 8th grade. 

Note: You are not done being a parent. Far from it. In fact, the decisions that your 8th grader will make will have a huge impact on the rest of their life. Success in school will now be closely linked to college and a career. Their decisions with regards to friends and social activities have huge implications as drugs, alcohol, and sexual activity began to be real possibilities.

So, this is not the time to check out. They need your guidance more than ever. But there will be a shift in that relationship. You are now laying the groundwork for the relationship you will have for the rest of their lives. You will, in large measure, have to earn their trust and respect now. They will listen to you if you reason with them, but you will be one of many voices, not the center of their world. You will have to do a little more convincing and sales work as opposed to simply laying down the law (although there are times when this is necessary). 

They have much more capacity, and as the tilt-a-whirl of adolescence slows down a bit, they will stop being so inwardly focused and might start looking outward. In 7th grade they were consumed with what their peers thought. Their relationships were likely somewhat unstable and tumultuous. 

Now, with growing stability, they will begin to make solid friendships again. They may make some new friendships or rekindle old ones, but they will start looking out more. 

They will probably start moving from simple imitation of romantic relationships and some crushes to very young love. It's not the real deal, and there is still a lot of immaturity involved, but they will start to have deep feelings for their friends, and that includes some romantic feelings as well. 

As I was writing this, I asked some of my 8th graders what they wished their parents knew. One of the things they said was, "Everyone time I talk to a boy, don't assume I'm in love with him." That's good counsel. Not every boy-girl interaction is romantic. I've noticed that many boy-girl friendships have a degree of chemistry and flirtatiousness, but are mostly platonic. 

Relationships will be somewhat ambiguous as they will be doing a lot of exploration. A girl might be friends with many boys, and consider them only friends, but still be flirtatious and even mildly affectionate. Don't use black-and-white, either-or terminology to understand your child's relationships at this age because there is a great deal of experimentation and changing going on. 

While this can be true of boys as well, my sense is that many boys start being interested in getting a girlfriend, looking for one specific girl. They can have female friends as well, but I have noticed that many of them begin behaviors we would consider dating. 

Boys will probably hit their physical growth this year. In fact, it might be the first time some of them are bigger than the girls. I've noticed that the girls are usually the dominant group leaders in younger grades--when influence is exerted through emotional and social means. Things get a bit more equal as the boys get their size.

8th graders will see themselves as being adults. They will not see themselves as being baby adults, but the real deal. They will not understand their limitations or see they still have a long way to go. Consequently, they will chafe at some boundaries and limits.

I have found that it is helpful to give as much latitude and autonomy as I can. This helps establish some credit. Then, on areas where there cannot be latitude or autonomy, I am unyielding. I have also found that explaining why I do things or require things make a big difference. 8th graders will often disagree but go along if they feel you are being fair as opposed to arbitrary. 

They see themselves as adults and respond well to responsibility. I find that saying, "If you want x privilege, you need to do abc" they will often work very hard to comply with the requirements. They can sometimes be motivated by appeals to do good work simply for the sake of doing good work, but do better with incentives and feeling challenged. 

They respond well to humor (sarcasm, especially), reason, logic, incentives, and anything that appeals to their growing sense of being an adult. They respond poorly to force, compulsion, constraint that seems arbitrary or pointless, and anything that makes them think you see them as children. 

One of the other things my 8th graders told me is that they hate being peppered with questions: "Where are you going? Who's going to be there? What did you do? Was it fun? Who said what?" 8th graders will want a degree of privacy. They feel able to direct their own lives and so won't want intrusions into what they see as their sovereign affairs. 


But, a parent has to know some of this information, so I don't suggest not asking them anything. I think it's good for them to feel accountable. Remember, they can make adult-level mistakes (in terms of ruining their lives) but don't yet have adult-level life experience or judgment. 

I think a good strategy is to say, "Look, I have to know what you are going to do and who's going to be there. As long as you live under my roof, I need to know x, y, and z. If you will tell me what I need to know, I won't bug you about the other details."

They often find it off-putting when adults try to be too fun or cool, or get too involved in who is going out with whom and so on. One of the best things you can do to get along with your child at this age is to be an adult. Don't try to be cool or younger than you are or fun. They start to smell that out and really don't like it. As they mature, they want someone mature to look up to. 

Working with 8th graders can be rewarding. Their bodies are mature enough that they can sing well or execute athletics successfully on a whole new level. They are confident enough that they can start to take some risks, and they can start to think at new and more sophisticated levels. 

As long as you understand that this comes with a corresponding pull away emotionally, and the fact that they want adult privileges, it can be a really wonderful time. 

I thought it might be fun to make several short little mini-trailers focusing on various characters, and then make a larger one. I'm still sort of tweaking this, but it is finished enough I thought I might put it up. What do you think? Would it pique your curiousity? Incidentally, if you want, you can read the first chapter here. 

Q: Guess what the best thing about 7th graders is?
A: They turn into 8th graders.

Hah! It's a joke to lighten things up. And chances are, if you have a 7th grader, you will need some lightening up. Remember, this will pass and things will be normal and happy again. 

7th grade is a rough time. In my opinion, it is the most difficult age to live through on your own, and also as a parent. Yes, there are exceptions, but in my experience, the vast majority of kids really struggle with this year. Let me offer some generalizations, based on my observations, about the problems and then some possible strategies. 

The reason it's so difficult, I think, comes down to one word: change.

First of all, their bodies are changing in ways that may be frightening, confusing, and exciting--all at the same time. 

Consider the cliche, "I know something/someone like the back of my hand." We say that to make the point that we know something or someone deeply, thoroughly, completely. The saying draws it's power from the commonly accepted idea that our bodies are fixed points of reference, things we know perfectly and understand. 

So, imagine how you feel when that point of reference is changing. The way you look, the way you sound. One day your voice squeaks or you trip over feet that are larger than they were. Your face begins to break out. You are taller than everyone else. Or shorter than everyone else. You have hair on your legs and don't want it. Or, you have don't have hair on your legs and do want it. You start to smell funny and feel different. Changes come in areas and systems that have traditionally been incredibly personal as well.

Not only is your body changing, but worse, everyone can tell it is! So you go through these uncomfortable changes in full view of your parents, teachers, and worst of all, your peers. It is a humiliating thing. And, not having the confidence or balanced view that comes with a few more years of experience, you assume that everyone notices far, far more than they actually do. 

Being a 7th grader is, I think, to feel always on the outside looking in. It is to live each day with self-doubt and a feeling of awkwardness and discomfort. This feeling keeps you always feeling like you are the outlier, the strange one, and so on. You feel insecure and this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you see two friends talking, you assume they are excluding you. And, without maturity and lived experience, you probably act accordingly--snubbing them in return, or at least being deeply hurt. 

And this leads to a second major change. Not only is the body changing, but social groups are, too. 7th grade is a social Rubix Cube that is suddenly twisted and turned all over. Friendships that existed since Kindergarten are suddenly over. Your best friend now wants to hang out with a different group. You have different interests. If you mature more quickly, you find the former activities lame and childish. If you mature a little less quickly, you're not sure why your friend suddenly cares about teenage things like boys/girls, etc.  You still want to play with Barbies (secretly) or legos--and your friend suddenly has a Facebook account and is "going out" with or "dating" someone you both thought was gross a few months earlier. 

And that leads to the third change. Many, not all, and maybe not even most, but many, adolescents will start having romantic interests at this point in life. They aren't totally sure what it's all about but they may become infatuated with a boy or girl. Their friendships with members of the opposite sex may change completely and become more flirtatious, or more awkward. Most of them experience romantic relationships in extremes--the very awkward and the very obsessed. There tends not to be a great deal of middle ground, although sometimes they are savvy enough to pretend that their is and they put on a show. Inside, their emotions are not very stable. 

All of this is going on because of the hormones that are flooding through them. These hormones make them unusually emotional. They might be weepy, depressed, angry, and ecstatic within short periods of time. Their behavior will change, often, based on where they are and who they are with. For peers, they will put on a happy face in spite of nearly anything. For parents, it can be the opposite. 

On that note, the influence of their peers and a desire for peer approval can become a paramount consideration at this time. You may see your own relationship change as they pull away and assert some independence. 

They see things in heightened emotional terms and there may be a lot of drama. If it's not outward, then it's probably still there, roiling below the surface and you wonder what's going on. 

Their judgment is impaired and they will make bad decisions. Repeatedly. Simple things you took for granted, like doing their homework or cleaning their room, may become epic battles now. 

We had a speaker at school a few years ago who told us something I have found invaluable. He was neuroscientist, and said that with the onset of puberty, the brain ceases the production of serotonin, which mediates decision-making. It just stops. Completely. This, he said, leaves a teen with the functional decision-making skills of an adult drunk driver. 

So, a 7th grader might be forgiven for having a rough year. In fairness, there is a whole lot going on that they have to deal with. 

So, what do you do?

To be honest, it's not easy. Every year I probably am frustrated more by my 7th grade students than any other group. At the same time, I get a lot of genuine satisfaction and happy surprises from them as well. They can be surprisingly sweet still, and they can do very good work when properly motivated and structured. While not adults yet, they will have glimmers of moments when they can show a lot of maturity.

The biggest thing that helps me is to manage expectations, to remember who I am dealing with. I have to constantly remind myself that they look like adults--but they are far, far from it. I need to manage my expectations accordingly. I have to remember how much they are dealing with. To them, most of their daily energy is consumed on surviving and not becoming a social outcast. They spend inordinate amounts of time worrying about this. 
I've found it helpful to think of them in these terms. I'm simplifying, this is not supposed to be medically valid. They basically have the bodies and hormones now of adults, with none of the life experience, practice, or self-discipline that adults have developed.  

Their job now is to learn how to be an adult, just as a toddler's job is to learn to walk. And the only way a toddler can do that is by trying and falling. Many, many times.

Your 7th grader is going to try to be an adult and they will be about as good as it as a toddler is at running marathons. It will take practice and time and patience.

You can help them, I think, by doing a few things. 
1. Consistent limits. As the world goes crazy, they will value (although they won't tell you until years later) a firm, consistent grown-up in their life.  They need stability, structure, consistency, and order more than ever before. Set limits, say "NO." They will rage and fume, but will appreciate it deep down. They are like engines with no brakes and no steering. Your job is to be the steering wheel and brakes. You might also think of them as little saplings. The winds are fierce and you don't want them bent. So, you get some rope and a peg and provide stability to keep the tree straight. Once it's a little stronger, it can stand on it's own. 


2. Pick your battles. Within the limits you set,  preserve the relationship. The ups and downs will end, the tempest will cease eventually. But your relationship, and the quality thereof will still be there. Sometimes you have to beat a strategic retreat in order to save the relationship rather than winning a battle and losing the war. This might come with expectations about homework, about cleaning a room, whatever. Save your ammo for the things that are really important. Let the rest go. Pick a few priorities, hold to them with adamantine firmness, and then let the rest go. 

3. Allow them to experience the consequences of their actions. Babies don't learn to walk without falling. You wouldn't catch your toddler every time they fall. Let your teen fail. Let them flounder. This is how they learn to be an adult. If you intercede for them, you rob them of growth and you weaken them later in life. 

4.  Don't let them waste their childhood by growing up too fast. They are not adults yet. They don't have maturity or judgment. They have very little perspective or emotional resilience. Our culture is pushing kids to do things that used to be adult behaviors earlier and earlier. At a minimum, this spoils the fun later. I think it also damages kids, robbing them of critical time to grow and learn about themselves, and bringing them into situations they are not yet prepared to deal with in healthy ways. Protect your child's childhood. I know of no adults who wish they would have grown up sooner. I know quite a few who wish they could go back to those innocent, carefree years. They will have plenty of time to act, dress, talk, dance, and have relationships like an adult. Their days of being able to do those things as a child are fast leaving. 

5. Be the adult. Know where they go and who they go with. Tell them when they will be back. Don't descend to their level. Don't try to be cool. Cool parents are fun for a little while, but at some point, your child will need an adult to guide, comfort, or help. Insist that they treat you with respect, not matter how upset. Their professors, coaches, and bosses will not be tolerant with rudeness and they need to learn that now. Or they will later. 

6. Don't be bullied. They will try to coerce you into letting them do what they want. They will say, "Everyone else's parents let them..." or "I'm the only one who doesn't get to...." Ignore it. There are an astonishing number of bad parenting choices in our world today. It is almost breathtaking how misguided some people are. The fact that they have made bad choices is no reason for you to do the same. It's easier to give in. Don't. Your kids will thank you for it later. If you want them to resist peer pressure (and you do) then you have to model it.

7. Laugh and have fun. Laugh with them when they do laugh, and when you are frustrated, laugh at them behind closed doors. Gallows humor can go a long way for your sanity during this time. Try to have fun with them. This might be hard because they might not want much to do with you. Or, their idea of fun might not be yours. Pizza and snacks will go a very long way, especially late at night. 

8. Reward them when they do something good. If your'e a good parent, you will have to be on their case a lot during this time (unless you have a perfect child). So, reward them with as much gusto as you discipline and correct them. 

9. Love them. Look for those glimmers of maturity. Hold on. Don't confuse their behavior for who they are. They need to know you are on their team. Don't allow yourself to say things like, "Don't be a brat" or "Stop acting like a baby." You will be amazed at how deeply those things can cut, even when they don't admit or show it.

And, above all, remember: it will end and they will become 8th graders. More on that next week.