How should a writer approach political children’s books? I received an interesting inquiry today from a potential editorial client. (Just as I was casting around for blog ideas! Hooray!) The writer has written a book for young children and, before sending me the manuscript, warned me that it had a specific political bent about Donald Trump. This writer wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be offended. While this is considerate of the client, it’s not my job, as an editor, to bring my own political biases into the editorial process.
But the question did get me thinking: What’s the role of politics in children’s books? Especially books for younger readers? Here’s what I came up with.
Political Children’s Books: The Real Concerns
When I come across books that have any kind of bias, whether it’s political, religious, philosophical, etc. it’s never my job to comment on the actual content.
My concerns, instead, are the following:
- Does the political element work in the context of the story? Is it necessary or is it gratuitous?
- Is the message and its packaging appropriate for the intended audience?
- How might this political element affect pitch and marketability?
This is the same way in which I would treat an “issue book.” For example, if there is a book where the character happens to be a certain sexual orientation, I’m always asking, “Is there more to the story than this element, or is this the central focus?” I ask this because I doubt that a book where politics is at the very center, or sexual orientation is at the very center, and nothing else is going on, is going to be very marketable. Readers expect multiple layers from a story, so if it’s just “a political book” or just “an LGBT book” with no other significant plot or character arcs, then I worry that it’ll fall flat. A story cannot stand on one element alone.
Another way of thinking about it is this: If I remove the political element, what’s left? If the answer is, “Nothing,” then you may have written a rant or an opinion piece or a manifesto. But a story? Maybe not.
Depending on what role the element plays, and the writer’s execution in including it, a political element in fiction could be either an asset or a liability.
The Marketability of Politics in Children’s Fiction
The other issue to consider regarding political children’s books is that of marketability. This consists of two parts:
- The audience
- The publisher
In children’s fiction, you have the additional element of your audience’s age to consider (read more about identifying audience here). Sometimes, politics in children’s books plays well. Consider dystopian YA novels. All of those authoritarian governments have a political message, and most of those stories have something to say about ideas of human rights and individual freedom. Plus, the YA audience is going to be more aware of current events, and more receptive to themes that lend themselves to the dystopian genre.
But a picture book about federal regulation shutting down a lemonade stand, bolstered by a discussion of big government? I just don’t know if a typical picture book reader (3-5 years old) would find that very relevant. You might be speaking to the adult reading the book, but that disenfranchises the core audience (the kid) and I doubt you’ll get very far.
You also have to think about the potential publisher. Most major houses like to make money. If they publish polarizing fiction, they may alienate potential customers. Sure, there are a lot of left- or right-leaning houses, editors, or imprints, but you should at least recognize that your opportunities to place the manuscript are going to be limited if it has an overt stance.
So How Do You Include Politics in Children’s Books Successfully?
All this being said, you still have a message for young readers. These are, after all, political days, and your idea probably feels very relevant and timely to you.
Go ahead and include your political message. But also give careful consideration to writing believable child characters who minimize preaching. You might want to go Wizard of Oz with allegory, or disguise the political force (an oppressive student government at school, for example). Make sure there’s more to the story than the message. There should be compelling characters and high-stakes plots driving political children’s books.
Make sure it’s appropriate and relevant to your audience. Is a three-year-old really going to be fired up about Grandpa Joe’s long discussion of tax reform? Will a nine-year-old understand the intricacies of your Cold War references?
In the same vein, search for agents, editors, and imprints who are open to politics in children’s books. An agent who has a few books about social justice on their list might be much more willing to “go there” with you, for example.
Finally, check your motives regarding your drive to write political children’s books. Story must come first. If your main interest is in preaching or converting or soapboxing, you’re likely not coming to the page with the right intentions. No matter which side of the aisle you’re sitting on, save the grandstanding for your Twitter. Political element aside, you still need to practice the storytelling craft.
I’m addressing something you mentioned in passing, but which you might want to consider changing since it could be confusing. There is no allegory, political or otherwise, in The Wizard of Oz. That’s an urban myth. The commonly mentioned political allegory attributed to The Wizard of Oz was created by Henry Littlefield in an article titled “Parable on Populism,” and he clearly claimed after its publication in 1964 that he did not attribute any of the ideas in it to L. Frank Baum, author of The Wizard of Oz. Look it up if you doubt me. Here’s one place to start: https://grorarebookroom.wordpress.com/2014/02/01/mythbusting-the-wizard-of-oz-parable-on-populism/
Some of Littlefield’s ideas don’t even make sense in the context of Baum’s story if you look at the text on its own and avoid any bias from the Judy Garland movie adaptation. So while anyone can find just about anything he or she wants to in The Wizard of Oz, it’s not an allegory. Suggesting it as a model for allegory might not be helpful to writers you’re trying to help.