If you’re looking for books that speak directly to boys—stories packed with action, danger, and emotional grit—Jack Heath is an author who delivers every time. Based in Canberra, Heath has become a standout voice in Australian young adult fiction, known for his fast-paced narratives and male protagonists who face extreme challenges and somehow manage to survive. His books aren’t just entertaining—they’re powerful tools for building resilience, especially in young readers who need to see that courage isn’t about being fearless, but about pushing through fear.
One of Heath’s most popular texts in my school library is the Minutes of Danger series. Each book features ten short stories, each unfolding in real time over ten minutes. Titles like 300 Minutes of Danger, 400 Minutes of Danger, and 500 Minutes of Danger are perfect for reluctant readers, offering bite-sized thrillers that are impossible to put down. The protagonists are often boys who are caught in life-or-death situations. They must rely on quick thinking, bravery, and resourcefulness. These stories are not only gripping but also subtly teach problem-solving and emotional regulation under pressure.
The Liars series takes a different angle, blending tech intrigue with moral complexity. It follows Jarli, a teenage inventor whose lie-detecting app turns him into a target. Across titles like The Truth App, No Survivors, and Armageddon, Jarli navigates a world where truth is dangerous and trust is hard-earned. These books explore ethical dilemmas, the consequences of innovation, and the importance of standing up for what’s right, even when it’s risky. Jarli’s journey is one of growth, resilience, and learning to think critically in a world full of deception.
Then there’s the Money series, featuring Ashley Arthur is based around a teen thief with a conscience. In Money Run and Hit List, Ashley pulls off high-stakes heists while wrestling with questions of morality and loyalty. These books are like Ocean’s Eleven for young readers, combining adrenaline-fueled action with deeper themes about risk, justice, and the blurry line between right and wrong. Ashley’s cleverness and internal compass make him a compelling role model for boys who are learning to navigate complex social dynamics.
“Thrills, Truth, and Tough Choices”
Jack Heath’s literary universe doesn’t stop at young adult fiction—it boldly steps into adult territory with the Timothy Blake series, beginning with Hangman. This marks Heath’s foray into darker, more psychologically complex storytelling, offering older teen readers a bridge into adult fiction. I have recently acquired the series for my school library because these books are perfect for boys who’ve grown up devouring his YA thrillers as they provide a natural progression into more mature narratives. With a protagonist who’s part genius, part monster, and whose moral compass is as twisted as the crimes he solves, the series channels unmistakable Thomas Harris’ Hannibal Lecter vibes, intelligent, disturbing, and impossible to look away from.
For boys’ schools and educators curating their library collections, authors like Jack Heath are essential. His stories don’t just entertain. They shape character. They help boys confront fear, wrestle with ethical decisions, and develop emotional resilience. In a world that often asks boys to be tough without teaching them how to be strong, Heath’s books offer a roadmap. They help boys grow, not just as readers, but as young men learning to navigate complexity, responsibility, and identity.
Jack Heath’s stories are more than just thrill rides. They offer boys a mirror and a map, reflecting their struggles and showing them paths through adversity. His characters don’t have superpowers, but they do have grit, intelligence, and heart. For educators and parents looking to foster resilience in boys, Heath’s books are a goldmine. They prove that strength isn’t just physical, it’s emotional, ethical, and deeply human.
Robert Galbraith’s The Hallmarked Man is a riveting addition to the Cormoran Strike series, delivering a classic whodunnit with a modern edge. Published two years after the last book in the series, avid readers (aka me) were very excited about the release. The Running Grave (Book 7) was easily the best book I read in 2023, so I was very, very excited about this new title which was released today around the world. I excitedly opened up my Kindle edition at 12.01AM and picked up my hardcopy version at 10.15am. The eBook/Kindle version may be portable, but the hardcopy will always win with me!
The story opens with a gruesome discovery—a mutilated corpse whose identity has been deliberately obscured. Strike and Robin Ellacott are tasked with unraveling not just who the victim is, but why someone went to such lengths to erase him. The mystery is layered and atmospheric, steeped in London’s underbelly and the world of antique silver, with plenty of red herrings and unexpected turns.
I found the references in the novel to the Freemasons interesting, and the novel did often allude to the role Freemasons have in public office may be compromised by their own allegiances. This theme of secret societies is rather popular and does seem to appear in several crime and thriller fiction across a range of authors.
As the investigation deepens, Strike finds himself under media scrutiny, with past indiscretions resurfacing and threatening to derail both the case and his reputation. This subplot adds tension and continuity for longtime readers, tying in threads from earlier books and forcing Strike to confront uncomfortable truths.
The novel also tugs at the heartstrings, especially when Strike reflects on the death of his beloved uncle Ted—a man he calls a “proper man”—whose quiet strength and moral compass shaped Strike’s own. In a surprising emotional turn, Strike rekindles a relationship with his estranged father, Jonny Rokeby, adding layers of vulnerability and reconciliation to the narrative.
Ellacot, meanwhile, is navigating her own emotional minefield. Her feelings for Ryan Murphy—a charismatic, Paul Newman lookalike—are complicated by her loyalty to Strike and the unresolved tension between them. She’s also forced to confront the eternal juggle between motherhood and career, a theme that’s handled with nuance and realism, reflecting the pressures many women face in balancing ambition with personal life.
The novel is rich with minor plot twists that add texture without overwhelming the central mystery. Each twist feels earned, contributing to a narrative that’s both intellectually satisfying and emotionally resonant. Galbraith doesn’t shy away from darker realities either—human trafficking of young women is woven into the case, serving as a sobering reminder that this global crisis remains urgent and unresolved.
Galbraith’s prose is sharp, the pacing tight, and the resolution deeply rewarding. The Hallmarked Man is a triumph—gritty, elegant, and impossible to put down.
Bella Ellis’sThe Vanished Bride (2019) is more than a historical mystery—it’s a poignant reflection on the constraints and quiet rebellions of women in Victorian England. Set in 1845, the novel imagines the Brontë sisters—Charlotte, Emily, and Anne—as amateur detectives, drawn into the case of a young bride who disappears under violent and mysterious circumstances. While the plot is rich with gothic suspense and clever twists, its emotional core lies in the exploration of female suffering, silencing, and survival.
This book was an unexpected surprise. I have always been a fan of Austen adaptations, but I had never really looked for other works. Then I saw this book. Just sitting on a shelf in Chermside Library…. What drew me in, pulled my eye onto a shelf filled with books, was the cover and the beguiling title – who vanished?
The vanished bride herself becomes a symbol of the countless women whose voices were erased by marriage, patriarchy, and social expectation. Her disappearance from a blood-soaked room is not just a mystery to be solved—it’s a metaphor for how women were often consumed by the institutions meant to protect them. The Brontë sisters, still unpublished and largely dismissed by society, are portrayed as fiercely intelligent and empathetic women who refuse to accept the limitations imposed on them. Their determination to uncover the truth is an act of resistance, a refusal to be passive observers in a world that demands their silence.
Ellis’s depiction of the sisters is deeply respectful of their historical reality. Each woman brings her own perspective shaped by hardship: Charlotte’s yearning for recognition, Emily’s wild defiance of convention, and Anne’s quiet moral clarity. Their investigation is not just about solving a crime—it’s about asserting their right to think, to question, and to act. In doing so, they challenge the rigid gender roles of their time, offering a glimpse into the emotional and intellectual lives of women who were often denied both agency and autonomy.
What makes The Vanished Bride especially compelling is its ability to weave these themes into a gripping narrative without ever feeling didactic. The gothic setting, the eerie clues, and the complex characters all serve to highlight the emotional toll of being a woman in a world that sees you as property, decoration, or burden. Through the Brontës’ eyes, Ellis invites readers to consider not just the mystery of a missing bride, but the deeper mystery of how women endured, resisted, and ultimately reshaped the world around them—often through the power of storytelling itself.
Normally, my annual fundraiser is Frocktober, where for the month of October, I celebrate the gloriousness of frocks whilst fundraising for the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. But this year, I’m mixing it up with something equally delightful and just a bit more bookish: a readathon! And not just any readathon—The World’s Coolest Readathon, hosted by the Australian Book Foundation. I saw that another wonderful Teacher Librarian Barbara from Bourke High School had signed up and then I thought… why not do it myself?
And what better way to kick things off than with a mystery? My first book for this readathon is Diabolical Bones by Sue Ellis—a Brontë Girls Mystery, borrowed from the ever-wonderful Brisbane City Council libraries. Gothic Yorkshire, clever heroines, and a touch of the macabre? Yes please.
A readathon, I’ve decided, is the perfect sequel to Book Month—like the epilogue where the characters (aka readers) get to celebrate their love of stories with wild abandon. It’s the encore performance, the bonus chapter, the literary afterparty.
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away (okay, it was my bedroom in Brisbane’s Southside), I embarked on a noble quest: the MS Readathon. Armed with a stack of books taller than my bedside lamp and a sponsorship sheet that made me feel like a literary philanthropist, I read my way through mysteries, adventures, and magical lands—all while raising money for a good cause. It was glorious.
Fast forward to today, and I find myself whispering reminders like a mantra: Read for fun. Read for joy. Read for pleasure. Because somewhere between grown-up responsibilities and inbox avalanches, the simple delight of reading can slip through the cracks.
Why Readathons Are Brilliant (and Backed by Science!)
Readathons aren’t just nostalgic—they’re powerful tools for literacy, wellbeing, and community. Here’s why they’re so magical:
They Spark a Love of Reading: Choosing your own books makes reading feel like breathing—natural and joyful.
“Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.”
–Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
They Boost Brains and Wellbeing: Reading for pleasure improves mental health and cognitive skills.
“Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.” — Mason Cooley
They Create Lifelong Readers: Even reluctant readers get swept up in the fun.
“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” — George R.R. Martin
They Build Community: Fundraising through reading turns stories into shared kindness.
“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” — Aesop
A Readathon Renaissance
Whether you’re a teacher, parent, librarian, or just a book-loving human, readathons offer a delightful way to reconnect with the joy of reading. They’re flexible, inclusive, and can be tailored to any age or interest. Plus, they’re a fabulous excuse to wear pajamas all day and call it “literary immersion.”
So if you, like me, sometimes need a nudge to read for the sheer pleasure of it, consider joining or hosting a readathon. You’ll be part of a movement that’s not just fun—it’s transformative.
And if you’re ready to dive in, check out The World’s Coolest Readathon. It’s got all the charm of the MS Readathon days, with a modern twist and a mission to make reading joyful again.
References
Attiyat, N. M. A. (2019). The impact of pleasure reading on enhancing writing achievement and reading comprehension. Arab World English Journal, 10(1), 155–165. https://dx.doi.org/10.24093/awej/vol10no1.14
Dong, Y., Wu, S. X.-Y., Dong, W.-Y., & Tang, Y. (2020). The effects of home literacy environment on children’s reading comprehension development: A meta-analysis. Educational Sciences: Theory and Practice, 20(2), 63–82. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ1251494.pdf
The “Real Men Read” initiative, recently hosted at my school was intentionally held between Book Week and Father’s Day as a event to bring our Primary students and their male caregivers to reinforce the importance of positive male role models in improving literacy outcomes for boys. The event brought together fathers, grandfathers, and male mentors together for a pleasant evening celebrating the positive outcomes from reading. Two dads kindly volunteered to talk about how and why they read. They discussed their own role models and how they support their sons in their literacy journey. We also had a fabulous guest speaker from Brothers and Books – Dylan Conway to talk about the impact reading has on building resilience and reducing stress. The impact was immediate—students were more engaged, more curious, and more eager to pick up a book themselves. In fact, I received an email from a dad that next morning.
Thanks again for all of your efforts last night. We are lucky to have such wonderful teachers that genuinely care for our sons. Conor actually got up this morning and said he wants to read his new library book with me tonight. Success!
This event powerfully demonstrated that when boys see and hear about men they value and respect reading, they begin to associate literacy with strength, intelligence, and emotional depth. In a world increasingly shaped by digital distractions and narrow stereotypes, the presence of caring, literate male figures offers boys a broader vision of what it means to be a man.
The research backs this up! A study by Merga and Ledger (2019) found that boys are more likely to engage with reading when they see male role models actively participating. Furthermore, recent findings by Smith and Taylor (2023) suggest that boys who regularly read with male caregivers demonstrate improved vocabulary acquisition, reading comprehension, and a more positive attitude toward school. These outcomes are not only academic but also social, as reading together fosters empathy and communication.
The National Literacy Trust (2025) further supports this, stating: “Fathers today are more involved in their children’s lives than ever before, and their engagement in early learning activities like playing, reading, singing, drawing and visiting parks or libraries supports children’s emotional, cognitive and educational development, as well as their early language and literacy skills.”
As Dylan Conway pointed out from the not-for-profit organisation Brothers and Books, their campaigns have shown that when boys see men reading, they begin to associate reading with strength, curiosity, and emotional intelligence. Their organisation has championed the cause, encouraging men to read and donate books across Australia.
The Real Men Read event served as a powerful reminder that literacy is not just a school responsibility—it is a community effort. When fathers and male mentors take the time to read with boys, they are investing in a future where literacy is linked to confidence, connection, and lifelong learning.
References
Merga, M., & Ledger, S. (2019). Parents’ perceptions of the importance of reading and the efficacy of reading aloud: Implications for fostering reading engagement in the home. Australian Journal of Education, 63(2), 163–178. https://doi.org/10.1177/0004944119840077
Smith, J., & Taylor, R. (2023). Male role models and literacy development in boys: A longitudinal study. Journal of Educational Research and Practice, 14(1), 45–59.
Today, across the country, we celebrate Australian School Library Day—a moment to shine a light on the heartbeat of our schools: the library.
This year’s theme, All the Literacies, reminds us that school libraries are not just about reading. They’re about empowering students with the full spectrum of literacies needed to thrive in a complex world. As educators, this day invites us to reflect on the transformative role libraries play in our schools and to advocate for the qualified teacher librarians who make these spaces come alive.
More Than Just Books: The Role of School Libraries
Modern school libraries are vibrant, inclusive environments that support curriculum delivery, foster independent learning, and build critical and creative thinking skills (ACT Government, 2022). When led by a qualified teacher librarian, these spaces become central to a school’s teaching and learning culture.Yet in Queensland and beyond, many schools still lack a dedicated library space or a qualified teacher librarian—especially in communities where literacy outcomes are already at risk (Queensland Teachers’ Union [QTU], 2023).
Why qualified Teacher Librarians matter?
Teacher librarians are dual-qualified professionals with expertise in both education and information science.
They:
Collaborate with classroom teachers to support curriculum goals.
Promote reading for pleasure and academic success.
Guide students in navigating digital and print resources.
Create safe, inclusive spaces that support student wellbeing.
Then there is nothing quite like seeing a student fall in love with reading for the first time. That joy is irreplaceable!
Literacy and Wellbeing: A Powerful Connection
Literacy is foundational and not just for academic achievement, but for emotional and social wellbeing. Research shows that reading and writing can significantly support children’s mental health, especially during times of stress (National Literacy Trust, 2020).
This year’s theme, All the Literacies, highlights the many ways libraries support students, from reading and information literacy to digital, cultural, and wellbeing literacy. A well-resourced library is a launchpad for lifelong learning. Emerging frameworks like wellbeing literacy emphasize the importance of teaching students how to communicate about their emotional and mental states (Oades, Robinson, Green, & Spence, 2021).
The Reading Crisis.
Merga (2017) has revealed a troubling trend: while many adolescents possess basic literacy skills, they are increasingly disengaged from reading for pleasure which is known as aliteracy. Between 2017 and 2021, the percentage of Australians who read books at least once a year dropped from 92% to 75% (Merga, 2022). This decline has serious implications for literacy development, academic performance, and future opportunities. Merga’s findings also underscore the vital role of teacher librarians in reversing this trend. By fostering reading habits and building relationships with students, they help bridge the gap between ability and motivation.
Australian School Library Day – A call to action.
Australian School Library Day was created to celebrate the incredible work of school library staff and to raise awareness of the essential role libraries play in education (Australian Library and Information Association [ALIA], 2025). It’s a day to:
Share appreciation for your library staff.
Showcase student voices and library stories.
Advocate for well-resourced libraries in every school.
If your school doesn’t yet have a qualified teacher librarian or a dedicated library space, today is the perfect time to start the conversation.
After all, every student deserves access to a library that supports all the literacies.
Oades, L. G., Robinson, P., Green, S., & Spence, G. B. (2021). Wellbeing literacy: A capability model for wellbeing science and practice. International Journal of Wellbeing, 11(1), 1–27. https://doi.org/10.5502/ijw.v11i1.727
In every corner of a school library, stories wait to be discovered. Stories that open minds, build empathy, and reflect the rich tapestry of human experience. But what happens when those stories are missing? When shelves lack the voices of different cultures, identities, and lived experiences?
As an educator and lifelong reader, I’ve come to believe that diverse books aren’t just nice to have in a collection. But rather, that they’re essential. They shape how students see themselves and others, and they help build inclusive communities where every child feels seen and valued.
Representation Matters
Research consistently shows that representation in literature has a profound impact on students’ self-esteem, academic engagement, and social development. When children see characters who look like them, speak their language, or share their cultural background, they feel validated. And when they read about lives different from their own, they develop empathy and understanding.
A study by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center found that in 2022, only 33% of children’s books featured characters from diverse backgrounds.
According to the Australian Institute for Teaching and School Leadership, inclusive education improves student outcomes and fosters respect among peers.
The “Windows, Mirrors, and Sliding Glass Doors” framework by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop emphasizes how books can reflect our own lives, offer insight into others’, and invite us into new worlds.
Growing up as a teen in Australia, I rarely saw characters in books who looked like me or came from my cultural background. It wasn’t until university that I encountered authors who spoke to my experience, and it was transformative. That moment of recognition made me realize how powerful literature can be in shaping identity and belonging.
One of the most vivid memories I have of feeling truly represented was during a recent trip to Mumbai. I walked into a bookstore and saw the latest issue of India Vogue. I was drawn to it because the cover featured models who looked like me, wore traditional fabrics with pride, and radiated a beauty that felt familiar. I stood there, overwhelmed. For the first time, I saw my heritage celebrated in a way that was bold, glamorous, and unapologetically authentic. That moment reminded me how powerful visibility can be, not just in fashion, but in every form of storytelling.
Now, as a teacher, I’m committed to curating a library space that reflects the diversity of our world. I’ve seen firsthand how students light up when they find a book that resonates with them. As one Year 9 student told me earlier this year when I handed him The White Tiger by Arvind Adiga, “This book feels like it was written for me.” That’s the magic we should strive for.
🏫 What should Teacher Librarians do?
To ensure every student has access to diverse stories, Teacher Librarians and schools must:
Regularly audit their library collections for representation across race, gender, ability, and culture.
Partner with local communities and authors to source authentic voices.
Provide professional development for educators on inclusive literature.
Encourage student-led book clubs and reading initiatives that celebrate diversity.
💬 Final Thoughts
Diverse books aren’t just about ticking boxes, they’re about opening hearts and minds. They help students navigate the world with compassion, curiosity, and confidence. When we fill our shelves with stories that reflect the full spectrum of human experience, we send a powerful message: You belong here. Your story matters.
Let’s go beyond the bookshelf—and make every library a gateway to understanding.
“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” – George R.R. Martin
This weekend we celebrated an unusual day. A truly inclusive day, where anyone and everyone can join in the festivities. This day celebrates the peculiar joy of falling headfirst into a story, where dragons roam, detectives brood, and friendships bloom between pages. Book Lovers Day is a gentle reminder that quality literature doesn’t just entertain the mind, rather it transforms. It tickles the imagination, sharpens the mind, and teaches us to see the world through someone else’s eyes.
“Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.”
Malorie Blackman
Reading fiction is more than a leisure activity as it is a cognitive and emotional exercise that cultivates empathy, enhances wellbeing, and supports lifelong development. Classic novels such as 1984, The Handmaid’s Tale, Rebecca, and The Three Musketeers exemplify how literature invites readers to inhabit diverse perspectives, a process closely linked to the development of Theory of Mind (ToM).
ToM refers to the ability to understand that others have beliefs, desires, and emotions different from one’s own. Research shows a reciprocal relationship between ToM and reading comprehension: engaging with narrative fiction improves our capacity to infer characters’ mental states, which in turn strengthens our understanding of complex texts. This cognitive skill is foundational not only to reading but to social interaction and emotional intelligence.
Moreover, (and this is the part I absolutely love!), reading fiction contributes to stress reduction and emotional regulation. Works like Life of Pi, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Gone with the Wind and Wind in the Willows offer immersive experiences that promote relaxation and introspection. As noted in The Conversation, reading also fosters curiosity—a trait linked to career success and psychological resilience.
In sum, literature nurtures the body, mind, and spirit. On Book Lovers Day, we celebrate fiction not just as art, but as a vital tool for cultivating empathy, enhancing wellbeing, and deepening our understanding of others.
Schindler’s Ark by Thomas Keneally was a very dry read. It was drier than the cheapest plonk at the pub during happy hour. Now before anyone starts collecting rocks to stone me, I would challenge them to read the book too and then comment.
I am not denying that the material in the book is powerful. I definitely acknowledge that the book is filled with names, places and intense facts. But it is not prose. Upon thinking this further, I recollect the subject of the book and wonder if there is a reason for that. If the author, in this case Thomas Keneally was aiming for an emotive piece, it would be a character lie. By all accounts, Oskar Schindler was a hard drinking and reckless businessman who cheated on his wife with regularity (Hurvitz & Karesh, 2016). He destroyed his family business, sought to cheat, lie and swindle his way back into a life of comfort. Quite frankly, by all tokens, this man was an immoral and wasteful character. Then Schindler went on to save almost 1300 Jews from the concentration camps during those dark days in Eastern Europe. This man, who by the standards of his time, and now; unworthy of attention; put his own life at risk to save others. His actions have been immortalised in a book, a major Spielberg movie production and the term Schindlerjuden or Schindler’s Jews, which is still used to refer to the descendents of those that were saved.
So when you consider all these facts, the dryness of Keneally’s “Schindler’s Ark” makes sense. It would be a lie if the book was anything other than prosaic. Instead, its matter of fact manner of describing the main character’s traits ensures that the reader does not view him with rose framed lenses. The reader is made fully aware of Oskar’s failings as a man and a husband. It is in viewing these failings that Schindler’s true heroism is seen. The plain language allows the reader to envision the fear hiding between the stalwart words. Conversely, the plain language also allows readers with little imagination to read the book without being overwhelmed.
“Schindler’s Ark” was a very dry read for someone who is a lover of prose. As an avid reader of fiction, I found this novel to be more informative than anything else. I also found it heartbreaking, just like the sadness I feel when the happy hour wine is just awful. But whilst this book was a struggle for me, it would be ideal for reluctant teens who struggle with engaging with fictitious stories. The language, style and format of the book resemble information books and thus may satisfy their need for ‘facts’. But whilst the Guardian review suggests this book as appropriate for 8-12 year old children, I would probably restrict it to students over 14-15 years old. This would then correlate well with the year 10 HASS’s World War 2 and Holocaust unit especially the ACDSEH025 elaboration. It would also work well in the Biographies and memoirs unit in Year 10 English.
Axelrod, A. (2013). Schindler, Oskar. In Encyclopedia of World War II, vol. 2. New York: Facts On File. Retrieved March 16, 2020, from online.infobase.com/Auth/Index?aid=19165&itemid=WE53&articleId=265017.
Hurvitz, M. M., & Karesh, S. E. (2016). Schindler, Oskar. In Encyclopedia of Judaism, Second Edition. New York: Facts On File. Retrieved March 16, 2020, from online.infobase.com/Auth/Index?aid=19165&itemid=WE53&articleId=263928.
I fell in love for the first time with a boy named James Winthrop Frayne II. I was 11 years old and madly in love. He was 16 years old, tall and very smart, with red hair, green eyes and a slightly crooked smile.
Unfortunately for me, James or Jim, as I lovingly referred to him, was a character in my favourite book series “Trixie Belden”. In fact, my love for Jim Frayne was so embedded into my mind that I ended up marrying another lovely redhead (he says honey-blond) who also happened to have James in his name. And whilst I was falling in love with Jim Frayne…
I fell in love with reading books.
Now when I say I love books, I say this as an adult who reads on a daily basis.
I have never spent a day in my life as far as I can remember without reading or food. In fact reading and eating are interwoven rather closely in my life. I have eaten my way through many books and I have read my way through many meals. Even now as a mother of three, dinner table conversations are still second place to a book. So for me, books are a need, like food and water. I indulge that need with classics and new authors; old favourites and popular series. But series fiction holds a dear spot in my heart. As a child, series fiction gave me Jim and Trixie, Harry and Hermoine, Frank and Joe, Nancy and Bess, Laura Ingalls, Anne Shirley, Lucy, Pollyanna, Heidi, George and Timmy, Darryl and Sally. As an adult series fiction brought me Doc Scarpetta, Tempe Brennan, Ayla of no people, Falco, Jamie and Claire plus many others into my life. Whilst I have loved the classics and other stand alone titles, series fiction brought me the greatest joy.
{silence} {crickets} {crashing cups of tea and chairs} {my career as a future TL fading into the sunset}
Yes, as an adult who is also a fledgling teacher librarian, I am voicing out loud my deep and ardent affection for serial stories. Now, once everyone has picked themselves off the floor and righted their tea cups; I will explain my thoughts.
I acknowledge that series fiction, whether for adults or children, has often been regarded as literary rubbish. Often viewed as the ‘Mills & Boon’ of literature, series fiction is derided for its repetitive structure, predictive plot and lack of character development (Westfahl, 2018). Some would even argue that its presence on bookshelves is a betrayal of literary values (Westfahl, 2018). But these people are snobs! Books do not always have to be among the lexicons of literature. Books, especially fiction books, should be able to satisfy cognitive, emotional and the developmental needs of the reader and series fiction definitely addresses the emotional needs of both fledging and proficient readers.
But before I elaborate deeply on how series fiction changed my life; I would like to clarify a few technical issues. There are three main types of series fiction. Firstly, there is the progressive series; where a longer narrative is broken down into shorter novels and the sequence of titles is important to the reader and storyline (Wooldridge, 2015). Then there are the successive series, where the plot repeats itself continuously and lastly, the accidental variety where the author reluctantly writes prequels and sequels to comfort the crazies.
Rowling’s Harry Potter, Marsden’s Tomorrow when the war began, Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables and Wilder’s Little house books are some examples of progressive series. These book concatenations had a definite end which saw the characters grow and develop along with the reader. I was one of those readers that grew up with Ellie and Harry. I devoured John Marsden’s series in a matter of months. My poor high school teacher librarian was continuously pestered to get the rest of the series once I got hold of the first one. Poor man! Lucky for him, by the time I discovered Harry, I had a job and a library membership! I was 13 when the first HP book was released and as Harry grew up, so did I. Harry, Hermoine and Ron were more than just book characters, for me they were friends.
Successive series examples include the famous Diary of a wimpy kid, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden, Babysitters club, Animorphs, Famous Five, Secret Seven, and Bobbsey Twins. These series have a foreseeable story patterns with comforting characters and obvious plots (Wooldridge, 2015). Whilst these books may seem formulaic (they are!), it is their predictability that makes them popular. Series fiction offers children constancy and security in a world full of upheaval (Wooldridge, 2015). Children develop a sense of trust, an affection with the character and possibly even a relationship with the author (Wooldridge, 2015). So while they themselves grow up through the tumultuous years of puberty, series fiction with its predictability offers an escape, a playdate with an old friend.
I developed this type of relationship with Enid Blyton after being introduced to the Famous Five. The sheer joy received from reading that series led me to trust her writing style and with it I discovered Secret Seven, 5 find outers and it, Mallory Towers, Twins at St Claire’s, Wishing Chair, Enchanted Tree, Amelia Jane and so many more. For an awkward immigrant kid with poor social skills, these books allowed me to escape to places where magic and friendship abounded. My daughter is also a big Blyton fan. Every time she picks up a book authored by Blyton, I know that she will most likely gain the same level of emotional satisfaction that I did and so develop her love of reading. There is also a great deal of enjoyment to share with her the books of my childhood.
The last main type of series fiction is the accidental variety. These are books that the author only planned on one, and then somehow their popularity has meant sequels and prequels were soon requested by adoring fans. George M Martin’s Game of Thrones is such a series, spawning an TV run that lasted several years and ended before the last book has even been published. Diana Gabaldan’s Outlander series is currently stalled at the near publication of its 9th book and only time will tell if the tenth book will ever eventuate (especially since the first book was published almost 20 years ago!). Other accidental series include Baum’s Wizard of Oz, Norton’s The Borrowers and P. L. Traver’s Mary Poppins. Because these series were accidental and not planned, their storylines do not always make sense and can appear a bit jerky at times. Sometimes they abruptly end if the author or readers lose interest.
Series fiction has been around for a long time. As much as some literary snobs would hate to admit, there are some current classics that used to be serials. Dicken’s Pickwick Papers and another seven of his other titles as well as Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes started off as series but then were condensed into a novel several reprints later (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018). Even further back to the folklore stories such as mythical twelve tasks of Hercules; the thousand and one stories of Scherazade and adventures of the Round table are varieties of series fiction. So to all those literary snobs that believe series fiction are rubbish… well… pffft to you.
If you think about it from a practical viewpoint it makes sense if you have a recipe that works to use it! Edward Strathmeyer had such a recipe back in the boom days of series fiction. He planned outlines of books and then organised cheap ghost writers to write the stories, and oh boy… did it work! The whole Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys production is based upon this magical recipe (Westfahl, 2018). The recipe had some key ingredients. Characters are kept the same age; have the same small town holistic upbringing; go on amazing adventures, travel the world but always come home safely to a loving family. These books allowed children and teens (mainly aimed at Caucausian middle class Americans) an avenue of escape from their groundhog day lives. As these book characters all suffered from perennial Peter Pan syndrome, they have never lost their appeal even in its trillionth reprint nearly ninety years after the first copy (Finnian, 2013). I will mention here that whilst racial demographics and family structure has evolved significantly since the first Stratemeyer book was published in 1927, their popularity has not changed. The plot pattern remains the same but the settings and dilemmas have evolved with the times. Obviously the recipe still works!
So what is the benefit of series fiction? Besides emotional satisfaction, series fiction allows the reader to build their literacy skills. McGill-Franzen & Ward (2018) believes that the predictable plots assist in developing word recognition which in turn boosts vocabulary and reading confidence. The formulaic story pattern allows the reader to easily identify any explicit reading conventions present. This expanded vocabulary and confidence then allows the reader to successfully use their increased literacy skills in other areas.
Series fiction makes it simple for readers to identify titles they are willing to read because they identify with the author. Reluctant readers are more likely to pick a book they are familiar with by the same author; than a title by a new author. They are also more likely to try other titles by that author because of the relationship that was previously established. A great example is John Flanagan, author of the fabulous Ranger’s apprentice series. Teens who enjoy that series often move onto the Royal Ranger series as well as Brotherband because they trust the author. The same can be said for Rick Riordan and the plethora of books he has published.
The impact of series fiction is clear. Children and teens who read more books end up being more adults who read. Remember, committed adult readers were hooked onto reading as children by series fiction (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018). And whilst reading of insightful novels that provokes critical thinking complements a wide reading program, it cannot replace it. Pushing the classics onto children and teens before they are ready is unlikely to work. But offering them an opportunity to connect with an author or a series they can engage with may put them onto the pathway towards literature. After all, children do age out of one series and into another (McGill-Franzen & Ward, 2018). They grow from Blyton’s Magic Faraway tree to Rodda’s Rowan of Rin, to Rowling’s Harry Potter to Marsden’s Tomorrow when the war began to Davis’ Falco, Cornwall’s Scarpetta and Reichs’ Bones and Hume’s Arthur and Merlin series and eventually they reach the classics. Why do I know that? Cos I did just that.
I fell in love with reading as a child. I have stayed in love with reading as an adult. Are you in love with reading? If so, when did it happen?
Woolridge, T. (2015). Series fiction and Sallly Rippin’s Billie B Brown series: The ‘Most important continuous reading children do on their own’. mETAphor, 3, 30-35. Retrieved from https://www.englishteacher.com.au/
Learning through the Library 