winterhouse logo

The only thing better than having your own best-seller on the market is seeing a dear friend enjoy that success. I went to high school with Ben Guterson. Thirty years later, we reunited at a coffee house in Seattle’s Broadway neighborhood and sat down, ironically, for a lovely pot of tea.

During all of our catching up, Ben told me that he’d recently inked a multi-book deal with a Big 5 publisher for a series of MG novels called “Winterhouse“. The first book in the series is out and it’s wonderful.

ben guterson

Ben Guterson

 

More than that, the book is full great craft. Amazing to me is the how well Ben captures that creepy-odd voice that perhaps we might associate with Roald Dahl or someone similar. Ben is clearly a writer of immense talent. I had a lot of fun reading his book, and I’m 54 years old.

What I loved best about it was the voice. It’s such a wonderful example of well-crafted KidLit. Here’s a paragraph near the start of the book where the main character begins her odd journey after discovering a letter with, of course, some instructions for an odd journey:

 

“The chugging red-and-white bus was half empty after making seven stops on its journey north from the train station. Elizabeth sat in a plump seat with a comfortable head rest, working on a crossword puzzle in a newspaper someone had left on the luggage rack above her. She was good at crossword puzzles. In fact, she was good at all sorts of puzzles—word searches, hangman, acrostics, cryptograms, any puzzle with words. She especially loved anagrams, and had already mentally rearranged the letters on the advertising sign at the front of the bus—“ Fred Daul Transport”—to “Dreadful Torn Parts.”—from Winterhouse by Ben Guterson

Without being derivative in the least, this passage has a wonderful Lemon-y Snickett-y quality to it. Or, as I mentioned above, a bit of Roald Dahl-ish-ness. At least to my ear.

Our “hero” is on a long ride; she has passed the 7th stop and doesn’t seem to be embarking anytime soon. One assumes she’s headed for the end of the line which she has anagrammed into something morbid and sinister: “Dreadful Torn Parts.” Ben puts a lot of interesting wordplay into this book including nifty word chains at the top of each chapter. There’s a book to read and enjoy here, a mystery to followed and solved, and a bunch of neat intellectual “games” to play as we go along.

The length of the trip and our heroine’s way of thinking about the destination tell us she’s not on her normal Monday morning commute. Her journey has the feel of an odyssey, particularly the point in the Hero’s Journey when one enters the Otherworld.

This is just the kind of challenge MG readers enjoy, served up with a lovely lilt to the author’s language and memorable descriptions of the quirky savant-like abilities of his main character.

Look at these simple elements of word choice that normalize a decidedly not normal situation and add a tinge of humor, too:

“chugging red-and-white bus”
“plump seat”
“comfortable head rest”
“newspaper someone had left on the luggage rack above her.”

And then we learn of our heroine’s odd—and oddly harmless—talent for word-gamery:

“She especially loved anagrams, and had already mentally rearranged the letters on the advertising sign at the front of the bus.”

I love the modifier “mentally”. Technically, we might consider it redundant. How else would someone anagram something? But its use adds something here by hinting at the significance of the character’s mentality. We’re certain to discover more of her unusual thinking as time goes by. This, more than anything, may endear her to us as we follow her along the way.

This is the classic voice of KidLit. It’s what makes KidLit the joy that it is, even for us big kids. Roald Dahl is probably the master. But here, we discover a new author in Ben Guterson who has mastered the voice of KidLit, too.

Advertisements