"The deeper sorrow cuts into your soul, the more joy you can contain" -- Kahlil Gibran

Kasey Cox

When I was in third grade, I was the budding author of a novel. The main character was a teen girl who had been in a car accident, and had to learn to walk again. I had six handwritten notebook pages, front and back sides, as my first chapter. I showed these to my favorite cousin: he was several years older than I, regarded in our family as extremely smart, and I’d always shared a special bond with him. I felt like he took me seriously when other family members dismissed my ideas as childish. Imagine my disappointment with his response to my chapter: “This is well-written, Kasey, but books like this just don’t sell. There’s not much interest in tragic stories where the characters are having a difficult time recovering.”

Looking back now, I have to laugh ruefully. He was probably about twelve or thirteen when we had that conversation. How did he know what kinds of books were marketable? And to whom? I’m sure my story wasn’t of interest to him. He liked books about dragons, and spies, and also nonfiction books that told him how to use computers – like many boys do, and not a few girls. Actually, I liked those books, too; I still do. Nevertheless, there’s something about those tragedy-and-recovery stories that draws me.

Evidently, I’m not alone in my attraction to books that detail a person’s hardships with illness or tragedy. What’s the interest? For some, those who have been through a serious illness, or who have supported a loved one in this struggle, it’s a relief to have characters with whom they identify. The validation of reading your own thoughts and feelings on the page of someone else’s book can make a survivor feel less isolated and alone. For others, who have not personally experienced life-threatening health issues, maybe it’s inspirational, and a reminder of the blessings in their lives.

The first summer we opened our bookstore, I learned about author Lurlene McDaniel. I had a seventh-grade English teacher come in and snatch up every single used copy I had of McDaniel’s books (I didn’t have any new copies; I didn’t know enough about her to order any.) The teacher’s comment: “I don’t know what it is, but my girls adore these, even if they’re not generally enthusiastic readers.” Since then, I’ve seen the same response from dozens of other middle school and high school teachers, librarians, and reading specialists.

McDaniel is the author of more than 50 novels for young adults. Her characters are usually teens struggling to deal with their own or a loved one’s chronic illness or mortality. The books cover a wide variety of issues, including organ transplant, AIDS, diabetes, severe depression, eating disorders, suicide, cancer, car accidents, hemophilia, and cystic fibrosis. Before you groan and start making comparisons to the Lifetime Channel, it’s important to note that McDaniel’s books do not always have happy endings, but neither are they designed to see how many tissues a reader can use per page. There are not overly-detailed descriptions of medical procedures, but McDaniel obviously knows her way around hospitals and doctors’ offices. She obviously understands the sorrow, worry, loneliness, and frustrations of lives impacted by these struggles, as well as the joy, love, and support provided by friends, family, communities, and medical staff.

This understanding is the reason Lurlene McDaniel began writing her books in the first place. When her son was three, he was diagnosed with diabetes. In the beginning, writing realistic stories about teens and their families facing life-threatening illness was cathartic, but the fan letters soon made clear the need for affirming books for this audience. Most of her novels are grounded, with a genuine tone borne of months of research as well as her personal experiences. McDaniel doesn’t usually rely on complicated machinations of plot to keep her stories interesting. (One exception to this was a novel of hers I read this weekend, I’ll Be Seeing You, where girl whose face is deformed from cancer meets boy whose eyes are severely damaged in an explosion, but I liked it anyway.)

If you’ve enjoyed your Nicholas Sparks, or your Jodi Picoult, or if you’ve read A Child Called It too many times, I recommend letting Lurlene McDaniel inform, inspire, validate, and entertain you and your teen this summer. With so many books to choose from, I’m certain you’ll find at least one that touches your life and opens your heart without breaking it.

Hobo knows heartache: he was blind, but now he sees. He wants to be a therapy cat and work with kids at hospitals, but he may have to settle for visiting sick kids in his hairless, literary form. To read more about Hobo’s cures for what ails you, visit his blog at frommyshelf.blogspot.com.