Posts Tagged mental illness

Hurricane Season with Author Nicole Melleby & a Giveaway!

It’s always exciting to share upcoming releases and hear directly from their authors. Today, we’re visited by middle grade author Nicole Melleby and her debut novel HURRICANE SEASON. “This debut novel—about taking risks and facing danger, about love and art, and about growing up and coming out—will make its way straight into your heart.”

Fig, a sixth grader, wants more than anything to see the world as her father does. The once-renowned pianist, who hasn’t composed a song in years and has unpredictable good and bad days, is something of a mystery to Fig. Though she’s a science and math nerd, she tries taking an art class just to be closer to him, to experience life the way an artist does. But then Fig’s dad shows up at school, disoriented and desperately searching for Fig. Not only has the class not brought Fig closer to understanding him, it has brought social services to their door.

Diving into books about Van Gogh to understand the madness of artists, calling on her best friend for advice, and turning to a new neighbor for support, Fig continues to try everything she can think of to understand her father, to save him from himself, and to find space in her life to discover who she is even as the walls are falling down around her.

Nicole Melleby’s Hurricane Season is a stunning novel about a girl struggling to be a kid as pressing adult concerns weigh on her. It’s also about taking risks and facing danger, about love and art, and about coming of age and coming out. And more than anything else, it is a story of the healing power of love—and the limits of that power.

Hi Nicole! We’re thrilled you’ve stopped by. Tell me,  how did you begin writing?

When I was eight, I saw the Nickelodeon movie Harriet the Spy. I was obsessed, I loved everything about it, but I especially loved the main character, Harriet, and the way she always carried around a notebook to write things in. I used to beg my parents to buy me marble composition notebooks just like the one Harriet had every time they went to a store that carried them, and I would fill those notebooks up with everything. I started off by taking notes about the people around me much like Harriet did while spying, and from there I started writing stories instead. I’ve been writing stories ever since.

The movie also gave me this quote, which I’ve kept in mind ever since, and speaks to why I keep writing: “You know what? You’re an individual, and that makes people nervous. And it’s going to keep making people nervous for the rest of your life.”

Interesting quote, and an important one for kids to remember. Thanks for sharing it here!

Your main character Fig’s growth is pivotal as readers venture toward the climax of her story. How did you decide to show this internal growth and understanding of her father and their relationship?

I knew from the start I wanted to do two things with Fig and her father’s relationship: I wanted to show that, regardless of his mental illness and limitations because of it, Fig’s dad is a loving, wonderful father. They love each other; the mental illness doesn’t get in the way of that. And I wanted to have a scene where a young daughter comes out to her father and it’s a non-issue. Fig’s dad doesn’t make a big deal about Fig’s sexuality. He accepts it, full stop.

With those things in mind, I knew that Fig’s growth had to center more around her understanding of her father’s mental illness more than their actual relationship, along with the avenues of help available to them, and how to accept the help provided to her. Throughout the novel, Fig finds comfort in learning about Vincent van Gogh, whose story is all too relatable in how it reminds her of her father. While Van Gogh helps Fig understand how serious mental illness is and how important it is to seek help, she also has to learn that her dad is not Van Gogh—mental illness isn’t one size fits all, and Fig and her dad have to learn together how to deal with their own circumstances.

What was the hardest part about writing Finola (Fig)?

For me, getting inside Fig’s head wasn’t hard—I don’t know what it says about me that my natural voice is that of an eleven-year-old. What was hard was making sure I took the time and did the research to do Fig justice. What would school look like for Fig, how ostracized would she feel because of her lack of cellphone and her dad’s limitations? It’s been many many (many) years since I was in sixth grade. What’s different now that I needed to be cognizant of while developing Fig? What would social service visits be like for her and her dad? What responsibilities would the adults around her have in reporting the strange behavior her dad exhibited? What parts of Vincent van Gogh’s life would really resonate with her (and what parts were maybe too mature for the story I’m trying to tell)? How would an eleven-year-old in 2019 react to the flutters in her stomach from a first crush on another girl?

Much differently than I would have in the year 2000, I’m guessing, and it was important to remember that while I was writing. I’m not writing about my childhood—I’m writing about today’s middle grade readers’ experiences.

This is a very good point to keep in mind for any writer reading this.

As the rawness of mental illness is strongly threaded throughout Hurricane Season, what suggestions can you give to educators on how to breach this subject using Fig’s journey?

My first suggestion is always that educators don’t shy away from discussing mental illness. It exists in so many people and families, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of or to hide away and whisper quietly about. Books like HURRICANE SEASON and Tae Keller’s THE SCIENCE OF UNBREAKABLE THINGS and Cindy Baldwin’s WHERE THE WATERMELONS GROW that show kids dealing with mental illness in their lives in a raw and real way I think is a good way to open up conversations with kids.

I also tried to show that both medications and therapy are useful and sometimes necessary, and I think being able to read about a young character experiencing both helps to put both of those into a context that becomes less scary and unknown.

What do you hope readers gain from reading this book?

I think a lot about the books I read when I was younger, and what characters meant the most to me. Who were the characters that were around when I needed them? Which characters gave me comfort, and why? What do I wish I had been able to read about but didn’t get the chance to growing up that could have been life changing?

With HURRICANE SEASON, I wanted to write a story for readers who needed a character like Fig: someone who is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and who is struggling with her love for her father and what his mental illness means for both of them, but is also going through the all too real pains of growing up. I hope that readers find a companion in Fig. I hope they see someone they can relate to, who maybe can be there for them in ways that characters were there for me when I was younger—whether it be a reader struggling with mental illness, or sexuality, or just the beginnings of a first crush or the struggles of sixth grade.

I also hope they gain a love and understanding for Vincent van Gogh!

Can I just say how much I love that you included work from Vincent van Gogh. #love

What do you see as the biggest challenge facing new writers in the constantly evolving publishing world?

With social media right at our fingertips, it’s ridiculously easy to see who sold what book how quickly, who is getting starred review after starred review, who gets to go to the big conferences, who gets to be on the most lists, and so on and so forth. Between that and having Goodreads reviews and Amazon stats a click away, it’s easy to get caught up in your own head about what defines success and whether or not your rejections or disappointments equal failure. Jealousy is human nature, and we’re all going to compare ourselves to others from time to time. The challenge is keeping your head up and focusing on your own path. I think it’s important to just try and remember (which I’ll admit is sometimes easier said than done!) that there are a million different paths in publishing, and most of it is subjective. Give it your all, be resilient, but keep your eyes on your own paper.

Also, protip: When I get a rejection, I sing a silly little children’s song that makes myself feel better. Mostly because by the time I’m done singing it, I’m not taking myself so seriously anymore, and I usually end up giggling.

Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I should just go eat worms. Worms, worms, worms!

Haha! I’m definitely going to try that!

Care to share what readers can expect from you next?

Yes! You can expect another Algonquin Young Readers middle grade book from me out in 2020—a story about a soap opera loving Catholic school girl with a complicated relationship with her mother and her first crush on a girl.

Fantastic! We’ll be looking for it. Thank you for sharing yourself with our family of readers. All the best to you always, and stop by anytime.

Nicole Melleby is a born-and-bred Jersey girl with a passion for storytelling. She studied creative writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University and currently teaches creative writing and literature courses with a handful of local universities. When she’s not writing, she can be found browsing the shelves at her local comic shop or watching soap operas with a cup of tea. Find Nicole on Twitter and Hurricane Season here.

 

 

Enter to WIN your very own copy of HURRICANE SEASON!

Giveaway winner will be announced via Twitter on May 14th.

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Dealing with Mental Health Issues in Middle Grade Literature

Mental Health in Middle Grade Literature

Mental Health in Middle Grade Literature

(EDITED TO ADD: Responsibility in these kinds of topics is of the utmost importance. There are many books that do NOT handle issues like these appropriately–and some that increase stigmas rather than assuage them–so please make certain that books are informed whenever they assert any kind of mental illness. Familiarize yourself with the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, build relationships with professionals, and be careful that books you recommend are supportive and empowering rather than detrimental. 

It is important to represent these children in the fiction they read, but it is essential that they be represented well.)

So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about mental health and neurodivergence in children’s literature.

As a bit of background, I’ve worked with teens and tweens in various capacities for most of my adult life, providing mentorship and guidance to kids from all sorts of backgrounds. And I’ve seen all types; enough to know that neurodiversity—that idea that everyone’s brain works differently—is the order of the day. Every child is different.

But in those differences, I’ve also seen a lot of hurt. Social structures come easy for some kids, but not for others. Some excel at math, while others look at numbers and see Greek. Many, many struggle with deep insecurities when they see the difference between themselves and those kids who are celebrated by the culture at large. And sometimes those differences in cognitive function provide enough pain and disruption to a kid’s life that they leave any sense of normalcy behind.

Some Kind of Happiness by Claire Legrand (image by Sean Easley)

Some Kind of Happiness by Claire Legrand (image by Sean Easley)

That’s a painful place to be. Students who find themselves on the margins of what we call “mental health” often experience an overwhelming sense of confusion and sadness as a result. They feel lost, adrift, and often, alone.

It’s part of our nature, I think, to believe that when hard times come, we are the only ones facing them. And when a child’s daily experience consists of a consistent string of hard times and marginalization—of any type—that sense of loneliness and hopelessness can grow even greater. As those feelings grow, so too does the gulf that these kids experience between them and the world at large.

This isn’t just something to only consider once a kid gets older and their “brain has developed,” as some might say. Statistics from the National Alliance on Mental Illness say that half of all mental health conditions begin by the time a child turns fourteen. Half. That means half of all people with these mental health issues are first experiencing these issues when they are readers of middle grade literature.

And yet, when I start seeking out books for this age group that feature these kinds of kids, the pickings are often slim. This is the time in these kids’ lives when they’re discovering what their life is going to be like—what they are going to be like—and they (and the adults in their lives) have to work hard to find examples of other kids coping with these experiences.

Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus by Dusti Bowling (image by Sean Easley)

Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus by Dusti Bowling (image by Sean Easley)

I’ve overheard parents say that they don’t want their kids reading “books like that,”—referring to those books that address mental health issues—because they don’t want their kids “exposed to that sort of thing.” This is exactly the problem, though. The kids whose parents want to shelter them from neurodiversity and neurodivergence often end up with distorted understanding of kids in their own schools who experience life differently from them. And a child who’s experiencing these feelings of differentness and otherness needs to know that their experience isn’t something to just discount. Their life has infinite value, even if they don’t realize or believe it yet.

That’s where the educators, librarians, and authors of middle grade come in. It’s our responsibility to give these kids access to books they can see themselves and learn that they fit in the world, just like anyone else. They need to know that it’s okay to claim a spot on the map and make it their own.

And I have been grateful to find more books and authors doing this lately. Books like the Alvin Ho series by Lenore Look and Kenneth Oppel’s psychological horror The Nest give us a look at kids exhibiting some OCD tendencies. Dusti Bowling’s Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus centers on a girl with physical challenges, but her close friend deals with his Tourette’s throughout the book in a very positive way. Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls, Anne Ursu’s Breadcrumbs, and Claire Legrand’s Some Kind of Happiness all give heartfelt portrayals of depression. Donna Gephart’s Lily and Dunkin provides a deep rendition of a boy dealing with bipolar disorder. And Anne Ursu’s The Real Boy puts a beautiful fantasy twist on neurodiversity.

The Nest by Kenneth Oppel (image by Sean Easley)

The Nest by Kenneth Oppel (image by Sean Easley)

These are still only the tip of the iceberg. It’s important that kids with cognitive differences be normalized because—in reality—the existence of these kinds of differences IS normal. These kids are all around us. They are us. Librarians and teachers know how common those differences are, and often do a wonderful job of celebrating those books that will reach these kids where they’re at. And putting those books in the hands of kids who don’t have those cognitive “differences” will go a long way to building compassion, understanding, and acceptance of kids who feel unloved, confused, and unaccepted.

What books have you loved or recommended because they gave honest, normalizing portrayals of neurodivergence? Add your suggestions in the comments below!