Writing for Kids: The Balancing Act of Fart Jokes and Difficult Topics

That’s right, I said “fart” in the title. Cause anytime someone writes the word “fart”, or says the word “fart”, or actually farts in real life, a lot of kids out there—and some adults too—are going to laugh. Breaking wind is one of the rare biological body functions that gives anyone of any age the giggles. It’s universal. We all fart. 

We all suffer too.

(Fracturing Fairy Tales to Jumpstart Your Writing.)

Pain, trauma, tragedy are all parts of life. Mine included. My childhood was not an easy one. I faced poverty, domestic violence, racism, homophobia, abandonment, and home instability. So when I started writing, all I wanted to do was craft other worlds full of magic mages and rowdy robots and awesome action-adventure apocalypses. I wanted to escape the real world. But after my first 14 novels were rejected (and we’re talking hundreds of rejections from agents, editors, and lit magazines), I decided to try something new. I decided to embrace the hard stuff. It was time to stop running from my childhood. Instead, I chose to pull it in close and give it an uncomfortable hug. 

That’s when I wrote Free Lunch, a memoir of my first sixth grade semester confronting violence at home, my parents’ difficulties finding work, and being put on the free lunch program. As my 11-year-old self would have said: “Life sucked.” Though I tried to find some humor, for the most part, the book was not a fun read. But it felt necessary, and unlike anything I’d written before, it felt important. So when I went out with it (fingers crossed), I hoped for a book deal. Instead? Rejections across the board, though three came with caveats…

The first said, “Why are you writing this for children? Make it for adults and I’ll take it.” 

The second said, “Graphic novels are hot. Let’s make it a graphic novel. Of course we’ll have to take out all the violence. We can’t show that in a middle grade book.” 

And the third said, “Wow. Great story. An important story. But let’s scrub all the heavy stuff out and make it fun!”

As difficult as it was, I said, “No.”  

Why? This was a chance to get published! To finally have a book deal! And I’m not a diva. Compromise and collaboration are an important part of the publishing process. (After all, a good editor will make you look a lot smarter than you are. And I know because I was an editor for 15 years, and now I have some of the most amazing editors and am grateful for them every day.) But changing my memoir would alter it from a true story to a fictional story. And more importantly, it would be just like so many other books already out there that are “made for kids,” which is just code for “nice and easy.”

I pushed back with the third editor, saying, “Clean it up? It’s not a dirty story. It’s a true story.” 

The editor’s reply? “Kids don’t want sad stories. They want happy stories. They want stories that they can laugh at. They can’t resonate with a heavy, dark, painful book like this.” 

In my head, I thought, “But I lived through it… does that mean my story—and my childhood—are not valid?” Why did this story deserve to be ignored? Because it needed more jokes? Maybe a fart? Which, by the way, there is a fart in there, with disastrous and hilarious results. But it was the truth, and sometimes the truth is grossly hysterical. And sometimes the truth is just painful to witness.  

So I read that editor the statistics: Today, in the United States, there are 3.5 million who face domestic violence on a weekly basis. There are 4.2 million living with homelessness or home instability. And there are 11 million children living below the poverty live.

The editor ghosted me after that. 

Click to continue.

As a kid, I wanted to be with the Hardy Boys on their ridiculous adventures. I wanted to skip along the yellow-brick road with Dorothy, the Lion, the Scarecrow, and the Tinman as they faced flying monkeys. I wanted to fall alongside Alice down the rabbit hole and into another world. I wanted to join Calvin and Hobbes on their imaginary escapades. I wanted to escape. But that’s because I felt so utterly alone. There weren’t any stories out there that I could see myself in. So I opted for fantasy. 

But as an adult, I was writing stories for the younger version of me. And yes, I wanted adventure and I wanted laughs. But on occasion, I wanted tears too. Because tears are part of life. Life is, at times, hard. But it’s also fun and sad and angry and afraid. Life is a spectrum of emotions. And I believe that the best stories are a spectrum too. They encompass all of it: the good, the bad, and the ugly. And of course, the farts. 

In children’s literature—especially among educators, librarians, and booksellers, there is a common metaphor about readers either seeing themselves or seeing others in literature. This concept was originally coined by Emily Style in 1988 and then applied specifically to children's books by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop in her 1990 article “Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors.” Kids love fart jokes, but they love seeing themselves in books just as much. Maybe more. Because if they see themselves in stories, they feel seen too. 

That’s why creating strong narratives with universal emotional arcs is so important. It’s no easy feat, but it is possible, especially if you draw from your own life experience. In baring your soul and your pain, you become vulnerable—which, trust me, is an uncomfortable feeling—but you also become a hero to these kids who so desperately want to know they aren’t alone. 

So whether I’m writing superhero comics, fantasies, reimagining classic novels as modern-day teen graphic novels (full of foolish drama and trying to decide what outfit to wear), or memoirs about trying to pop a zit on my back… whatever I write, I try to build well-rounded characters living in a real world. Being honest, being raw, being truly open with the hardest parts of living, matters now more than ever. Especially in literature for young readers.

But there should be laughter too. There should be hope. And—if you’re so inclined—there should be smelly, stinky farts, especially the ones in public when everyone smells it. Cause farts are funny. 

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