Recently I had the opportunity to interview Patricia McCormick, who wrote the books Cut, My Brother's Keeper and Sold. A writer who feels passionately about the subjects she chooses to write about, McCormick is shedding light on issues that don't often get covered fictionally.

Here's an excerpt from the interview:

Your books deal with very difficult subjects. Things that people maybe don't want to talk about too much. What's the advantage do you see of talking about those things in a fictionalized way?
PM:  If you have a conversation about a fictional girl and her mother, or a fictional girl and her father they are one or two or ten steps removed from your situation, but you can still see similarities. So I think it's a much safer way to talk about things that people aren't comfortable talking about. Everybody is affected when something happens like in Cut or My Brother's Keeper. They don't know how to talk about it. And, if you're cutting, you might think you're the only one in the world doing it, and it's really hard to ask for help. But if you're reading about it in a book it's easier to ask for help. I've heard from so many kids who've said that they just went in and put the book down or made a point of letting their parents know they were reading this book as a way of saying, “that's me, that's what's going on in my life.”
That must be very rewarding.

PM:  Oh it is. I love when I hear from librarians who say, “I needed a book just like this for one of my kids,” or when they tell me it's one of their most stolen books.

What draws you to the topics you talk about?

PM:  My Brother's Keeper is a story I kind of lived through. I lived with family members who have substance abuse problems, and my thinking there was the person who's got the problem with substance abuse attracts a lot of attention, but there are so many other people affected by it who should have a voice too.
As for Cut, I was really fascinated by this issue and by the idea that somebody could be so hurt or angry or lonely or frustrated or numbed-out but couldn't tell anybody so they take it out on their bodies.
With Sold, I heard about trafficking and I just couldn't believe that people sold their children. There's great journalism about trafficking, but I think when you turn it into fiction and when you really sink into the experience of another human being experiencing this, it calls on your empathy.

Did you hope to inspire people to action with this book?

PM:  I very much had the idea of activating people. I had opportunities to intervene while I was doing the research, but I was thwarted in the things I wanted to do. Then I thought, “what I can do is write a book.” So I couldn't write it fast enough. I wanted everyone to know immediately about this. I've been really amazed at the response. Kids of this generation tend to be very socially aware and care about issues of social justice and are activists. They want to raise money and they want to find out more. Even kids you wouldn't anticipate having any kind of connection to an issue like this. I went to a juvenile facility, and I though, “why are these girls going to care about some girl in a mud hut?” But they were really moved. And I think it's because they know what it's like in some cases to be betrayed by a family member. Or to be sexualized inappropriately. Kids are really shocked that this is happening to their peers.

How do people best channel their desire for action?

PM:  We're physically far removed from the problem, so the best way to help is through our donations. The organizations I list in the back of the book really helped me, and I can vouch that the money really goes to help the girls. Five dollars can buy a girl her first new dress when she leaves the brothel. It's such a huge benefit to her to put on something clean and modest. People can also talk about the issue. Trafficking happens here in the United States. Either with kids coming in from foreign countries or kids who run away here and are trafficked once they lose their bearings and run out of money.

To read the full interview, visit MotherDaughterBookClub.com.

Sold

A poor village girl,named Lakshmi, wants to help out her family and got Sold into prostitution.  She wants to escape but doesn't want to got beaten up by her bosses, workers.  But every day she gets hurt by disgusting men and is in pain.  Little does she know she might be there forever.

-Nedra

LA GLORIA — The bleachers were full, the air rich with the aroma of fajitas, the matadors resplendent as the sixth season of corridas, or bullfights, at Texas' only exhibition bullring got under way.

After the opening act — Guapo, the dancing horse, pranced sideways and backward, lifted its hooves, and curtsied to ranchera music — a tractor combed the dirt.

Announcer Lyn Sherwood prepped the crowd. Many were white-haired retirees from Northern states, "Winter Texans" taking in part of the tapestry of the Mexican border. Others were families from surrounding miles of lonely ranchland. Most had never seen a bullfight.

What they saw last week at the Santa Maria bullring wasn't a classic bullfight, with a half-ton animal weakened by lances and barbs but still capable of killing the matador with each pass at his cape before being killed himself.

By U.S. law, there can be no blood and no kill, only a final swipe by the matador to remove a rose attached to the back of the bull. Without the lancing during the picador phase, known as the Tercio de Varas, the bulls must be smaller.

But the essence of the bullfight is retained, owner Fred Renk said, and spectators are able to experience the dance of man against beast, which he said is as ancient as the walls of Crete.

Renk, 71, inaugurated the 30-foot ring at his ranch 60 miles northwest of McAllen in 2002. He named it for his patron saint and installed a small prayer chapel for the matadors under the stands.

It was the realization of a dream dating back to his own days in Mexico City, when he abandoned plans to become a priest in favor of becoming a bullfighter. He fought as a novillero, or novice bullfighter below the rank of matador, from 1958 to 1967.

His son, 44-year-old David, made full matador in 1981 and earned respect even in the most snobbish of bullfighting circles as El Texano. He was the sixth U.S. matador in history and the only American to confirm that status in Mexico City's La Plaza Mexico, the largest bullring in the world.

[...]

I have yet to write on two Texas-born bullfighters who particularly fascinate me: Patricia Hayes, who threw up her music studies at North Texas State College in the early 1950s to move to Mexico City and take up a respectable career as a”the Grace Kelly of the Bullring” and Patricia McCormick of Big Springs, Texas.

Bullfighting is not nearly the elitist sport we think. There have been women bullfighters (including the two Texans), gay bullfighters (see Ernest Hemingway's “The Mother of a Queen” -- incidentally Hemingway's only story with a Mexican protagonist, or the somewhat NSFW gay Turkish site, Casual in Istanbul -- gay Turkish bullfight fans... who knew?) and tauromachia has been racially integrated as long as “race” has been a factor in our thinking.

While tauromachia has roots going back to ancient Crete, the modern bullfight celebrates the common man (never mind the fancy suits). In the 18^th century, the sport radically changed: before that it was meant as a ritual glorifying stratified social classes. The picadors – representing the nobility – were protecting the unarmed peasant from the forces of nature. When the matador first took up the sword in the ring, the commoners came into their own. And, became demi-gods. In their traje de luz, the matador – a common man (or woman) – takes on an almost mythic status. Unlike other “mythic” creatures like rock stars or pro athletes, the matador in a very real sense is putting his (or her) humanity on the line. A “bloodless” bullfight misses that “point” ... Becoming one with nature is not risk free.

Hemingway's story (which is somewhat difficult to find) is less about bullfighting (or gays) than about accepting our place in nature, and our own mortality. The greatest of twentieth century matadors, Silverio Perez, (who lived to be over 90 by the way) spoke and wrote of his art almost as if he were writing Buddhist precepts. "Only by becoming one with our fear, and the bull's fear, and becoming one with our own mortality, are we alive," he wrote.

And, consider this. In Texas, you can't stab a bull, but you can shoot your neighbor. ¿Qué barbaro?

Prior to reading, I heard so many good things about this book so I unfortunately decided to give it a try.   It wasn't exciting  or interesing at all; boring plot–couldn’t relate.  Perhaps, I expected too much.  However, SOLD was terrific.

Top 10 reasons to have students read young adult literature

10.  No characters name Pip.

9.  They will actually read!

8.  No Cliff Notes!

7.  Students can identify with the story’s characters.

6.  Books with less than 200 pages.

5.  They will actually read!

4.  Flashy book covers.

3.  Books that fits in pockets.

2.  Reading about real-life situations.

1.  They will actually finish the book! 

I firmly believe that young adult novels can teach students the five basics elements of literary conventions: character, plot, setting, theme, and style.  They can be used as a springboard to transition them to other books.  It is said that students are attracted to young adult novels because they can identify with the story’s characters and that these stories usually involve real-life situations.  As an adult, I find myself enjoying young adult stories more and more; I rarely read adult novels now.   For sure, some stories can be gritty, heartrending and far too realistic for my taste, but this why teens are attracted to them.  They push the boundaries and cover topics that probably wouldn’t have been discussed in other forms of literature.  For example, as a pre-adolescent, I remember reading Judy Blume’s Forever, which opened my eyes to issues of teen sex and pregnancy. Today, there are many young adult novels that focus on peer pressure, rape, gang life, violence, and drugs.

Some recommended books include: Laurie Anderson Halse’s Speak [rape], Angela Johnson’s First part Last [teen parenting], Patricia McCormick's Cut [self-mutilation], Walter Dean Myers’ Monster [juvenile delinquents], Sharon Draper’s Tears of a Tiger [drunk driving and teen suicide], and of the ever-popular Dave Pelzer’s A Child Called "It” [physical and mental abuse]. 

Critics argue that young adult fiction encourages dysfunctional behaviors, but I disagree.   It gives teens a multitude of reading options. It covers all the genres  so to peek any teen's interest and/or reading ability. Furthermore, as long as teens are reading, they are developing and strengthening their critical thinking skills along the way.