When you’re a kid growing up it’s vitally important that somebody believes in you.
For me, it was my maternal grandmother.
Nan.
She was the one who told me “hungry dogs run faster.”
And I’m still running.
Just a frisky, young pup.
Forever young.
A regular feature of my mutterings will be something called “Stop The Insanity.”
Here’s one for today.
TO PUT IT KINDLY, BOOK BANS ARE DIVISIVE, DESTRUCTIVE, SOULLESS BULLSHIT.
I don’t want imperfect strangers telling my family what we should and shouldn’t read.
Maybe you agree, maybe you don’t.
We’re not always going to see the world the same way.
That’s what I hope will make “Stop The Insanity” interesting, sometimes provocative, frequently irritating.
I’ve written and co-written a whole lot of books. I know, I know, way too many.
But telling stories is a tough monkey to get off one’s back.
In the coming weeks, I’ll try to help you understand how and why I do what I do.
When I’m writing, I imagine there’s one person sitting across from me. I don’t want them to get up ‘til I’ve finished.
Right now, that person is you.
So here are a few thoughts on today’s topic.
The current round of book banning is one of the dumbest and most mindless things we’ve done in years.
And we’ve done some epically dumb shit recently.
I think I understand the impulse of some of the banners. Especially when I’m thinking as a dad.
We’re living in crazy times. The desire to protect our kids, to shield them, can be intense.
There’s so much crazy stuff we can’t control in our lives. I agree with the book banners about that.
They think part of the solution to “protecting” kids is taking control of what’s on the bookshelves of our classrooms and libraries.
And that’s where they completely lose me.
I don’t buy it for a minute.
Libraries have books that can help you see the world in new ways. And that may even lead you to think self-critical thoughts. But they are not portals to hell.
Usually these people ban fiction. They claim some novels make kids uncomfortable.
And so, they’ve banned The Color Purple, The Handmaid’s Tale, even Amanda Gorman’s poetry in The Hill We Climb.
Let’s shine a light on that.
Usually, this fiction features characters who look different, think different, act different, pray different, love different, or vote different from the book banners.
Coincidence?
Another thought—you ever notice it’s the people with the weakest platforms and the least confidence that make the most noise? The ones who are about to lose an argument who get the most angry? And the ones who, after they’ve lost the argument once, will do all they can to prevent that discussion from ever happening again?
Small wonder we’re more divided as a country now than at any other moment during my lifetime. All of these islands. These tribes. Each fearing the other side is out to get them and doing all they can to shut those others up. And thinking that yelling is a good way to go about it.
My Nan had a word for people like that—busybodies.
Book banning isn’t the solution to anything. Actually, it creates new problems.
Want to keep kids from being exposed to “harmful” material? Okay. Maybe. But who gets to decide what that is?
You do. In your house.
I do. In my house.
And what about those phone-sized computers just about every kid has in their pocket, hooked up to the big, bad Internet?
Talk about potential portals to hell.
Today, anyone, at any age, can post or view anything online with a few taps—and we’re talking some shocking, explicit stuff.
If there is a serious problem, it isn’t books, it isn’t libraries, it’s iPhones and iPads.
So, do I want iPhones banned?
Occasionally, yes. But that’s just me being irritable. iPhones can’t possibly be banned. Hey, major league sports would lose millions if the public didn’t have access to online betting.
I think a lot of this book banning comes down to misguided politics.
The same folks who say they don’t want the government in their business, who claim they don’t want people in Washington, DC telling us how to live our lives or raise our kids, have no problem telling other people what they can and can’t read.
You’re a libertarian except when it comes to other people’s freedoms?
That doesn’t wash.
Imagine if a stranger barged into your house one day and started pulling books they didn’t like off your shelves. Just because. Then they cut articles out of your favorite magazines. Unsubscribed you from newsletters and Substack pieces you’re interested in.
Because that is what can happen here.
Unless we get off our duffs and get the book banners to find a new hobby.
I’ll end on a personal note.
Over the years, novels of mine have been banned. One is my popular YA series, Maximum Ride. It’s about a group of cool teenagers raised in a secret laboratory and surgically given wings.
Another is The Jericho Commandment, a novel about the dangers of terrorism and antisemitism.
Maximum Ride was banned in a school district near my home in Florida. One woman—who hadn’t even read Maximum Ride—complained to the school board. One woman. In a community of tens of thousands.
And, a while ago, The Jericho Commandment was outlawed by the Russian government.
I’m not an alarmist by nature. But banning books doesn’t protect our kids. It keeps them in the dark. Who wants their kids to grow up in the dark?
It also cuts down the chances they’ll find great stories they connect with.
Stories that might make them fall in love with reading.
Like I did as a kid.
Like you probably did.
And that’s today’s "Stop The Insanity.”
Let’s raise some hell and do something about this. Maybe we just say before you petition to ban a book, you need to prove that you’ve read it.
Anyhow, next time you speak to somebody on your local school board, maybe ask what’s being done to protect books and our freedom to read.
If you want to raise some hell with your congressperson about protecting libraries and books—and why the hell not?—you might consider sending them a note. Here’s where you can do it. Shouldn’t take you more than 3 minutes.
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