Put bluntly, I'm having some difficulty in believing that all you guys were little critical geniuses at age ten

I know I wasn't, but I also know I could feel--viscerally--the difference between a good book and a bad book. I knew Sendack was more fun to read than the cheap (though more brightly colored and shinier) books at the grocery news stand. I have huge respect for kids' taste and I think they are even LESS swayed by "crit" mind than adults are. A kid likes a book because they like it, not because it won a Caldecott. Classics of children's literature become that way because kids respond to them over and over.

I was very surprised on scoping out books that stayed with me--that I remembered and missed from my childhood--on the internet, that so many of them were classics and written by excellent authors. They stayed with me (as opposed to the other bookjs of the dozen or so I gobbled down a week) because they were good. That's why the authors were well-regarded, because they wrote books which could do that. I may not have known WHY I responded to them, I just knew I did.

On the subject of grade two teachers: I might be the exception that proves the rule: I had a fabulous one. Mme Porteous was the first teacher that encouraged me to write, non-stop in fact. Of course all the stories were Garfield, My Little Pony and Jem crossovers with basically the same plot (all three groups meet on a cruise which gets hijacked by pirates and oh Synergy saves the day!) but my teacher accepted every one of them, corrected the grammar, wrote comments and handed them back within a day or two with a big ass sticker on the back. That's dedication.

My second grade teacher also rocked.

Oh, so sleepy and so sick of working today.

Mr. Salt was second grade. He was fantastic.

ETA: Oh, huh. Thought I was in Natter. My lurking ways have been exposed! Well. Carry on.

My second grade teacher also rocked.

My second grade teacher was on "Solid Gold." I kid you not. She was just one of the women dancing in front one episiode.

I didn't realize at the time how young she was.

My first grade teacher rocked. My fourth grade teacher seriously rocked.

But I can't remember any teachers who did not encourage me in writing, although there were a few who rather reasonably objected to me busting out the song lyrics actually during class.

My junior English teacher apparently got intimidated by me, and let me leave class to do an independent study which was, essentially, trying to get an article published in a little magazine. I don't know why, exactly, I freaked her out, and I kind of regret taking the option, because she was a good teacher and I think I would have liked her. Instead I dawdled a lot in the guidance counselor's office and didn't get squat published, because what I turned out was complete tripe.

Okay this is the stuff of natter (will cross post) but I came across this as we were discussing YA horror books and couldn't help but be thankful that I was not forced to wear one of these as a child. (last one especially)

[link]

Incidentally, these might be more horrifying than anything Stine or Pike could imagine.

They look a bit like those Mexican pro wrestlers.

The only grade school literary occurance I remember was having my third grade teacher flip out at me because I was reading Beowulf in class. She actually called my mom and told her that I couldn't possibly understand it because she'd failed to understand it when forced to read it in college.

I believe my mom womanfully refrained from laughing in her face, but only just.

Joe, I read Joyce at thirteen. Freaked my teachers out. But understand him critically? Nope. And still don't. I have precisely the same reaction to him now that I had then: a deep visceral giggling that is akin to being drunk. He leaves me emotional and happy, the same way Shakespeare does: it's in the rhythms, I think. My brother, on leave from the military, read an eight-year-old me to sleep with Cymbeline in German. It was all about the rhythms of the language, the same way music is for me.

I know I wasn't, but I also know I could feel--viscerally--the difference between a good book and a bad book. I knew Sendack was more fun to read than the cheap (though more brightly colored and shinier) books at the grocery news stand. I have huge respect for kids' taste and I think they are even LESS swayed by "crit" mind than adults are. A kid likes a book because they like it, not because it won a Caldecott. Classics of children's literature become that way because kids respond to them over and over.

Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes YES! You knew you dug reading it - or, if too young, hearing it read to you - and you knew certain buttons were pushed, whereas with other books, the buttons weren't. Is that it? JUST what I've been trying to say. My only caveat is that I personally never thought "good" or "bad" - I was "I don't like" or "I like". That's why I got so frustrated at being told I was making a value judgment. LAST thing I'd make on a writer. If I say "I think this sucks", I'm saying "I don't like it", not "this is bad."

I was very surprised on scoping out books that stayed with me--that I remembered and missed from my childhood--on the internet, that so many of them were classics and written by excellent authors. They stayed with me (as opposed to the other bookjs of the dozen or so I gobbled down a week) because they were good. That's why the authors were well-regarded, because they wrote books which could do that. I may not have known WHY I responded to them, I just knew I did.

YesyesyesyesyesYES. I loves me some Robin. Beautifully clearly put.