STICKS: BETWEEN THE LINES

PURE LOVE
When I wrote Squashed, my first YA novel (the story of a girl who attempts to grow the largest pumpkin in Iowa), many people were certain I had personal experience nurturing pumpkins.

"Sorry," I informed them. "I've never grown a vegetable that lived."

Then I wrote Thwonk (the tale of a love-lorn teenage photographer who meets an irritated cupid). Anyone who bet on my photographic talents lost the farm. I am an abysmal photographer.

"Surely," said my friend and local children's librarian when Sticks came out, "you know your way around a pool table, Joan."
And this time I could grin and say yes indeed; I am hopelessly in love with the game.

I learned to play pool as a young teenager in the Sixties and was instantly smitten. I think the womb-like atmosphere of the pool hall started it didn't matter if it was day or night, summer or winter--pool was played and a great deal of it was serious. There was a rhythm to it. The great players moved like dancers. "You can tell who the good players are just by listening," someone once said to me, and it was true. The crack of a well-hit ball, the ram of a perfectly executed bank shot against the rail rang out like rifle shots and became to me, next to a Beatles song, one of the profoundly meaningful sounds in the universe.
There was the sweet simplicity of the game (aim and shoot) and the intricate chess-like strategy for owning and defending the table. There was the concentration it required, the physical dexterity of reaching a close-to-impossible shot; the techniques, the heritage, the passing of the torch between generations. There were the players of every imaginable age, size, race, and background. It wasn't a game for the young or the old, it was a game for anyone who honed their skills and took the time to watch the masters.

Luck, skill, focus, determination, winning, losing, and a rich parade of multi-cultural diversity. It was all there, played out everyday on the eighteen Brunswick pool tables in Lorrimer's Pool Hall.

It hadn't occurred to me back then that every time I leaned over a pool table, banked a shot, or followed a line from ball to pocket, that I was demonstrating geometry in its purest form. No one mentioned that Isaac Newton's Laws of Motion were in deft display whenever I slammed the cue ball into another to make a shot. I wish that I had understood the connections back then to my love of pool and the mathematical and scientific world around me. In Sticks, I have attempted to connect those dots. And like any creative undertaking, there was much more to find than I originally determined.

SUBJECT INTEGRATION
When my daughter was in fifth grade I watched with amazement her interdisciplinary education. History heightened English, English linked to Math, Math explained Science. How different than mine had been years ago.
Now we have Reading.
Now we have History.
After lunch we have Math.
Science is twice a week.
And never shall they meet.
I have always been a visual, intuitive learner, always used words and images to connect me with other things. As my mind began to play with the idea of writing a novel for 8-12 year-olds that could be used in interdisciplinary studies, I knew that it had to be a book that had natural applicability to learning and didn't hit kids over the head. I didn't want anyone closing their eyes and groaning, "Oh no, here comes the math section."

Plot, I've always believed, streams from character. And so I created Mickey Vernon, the ten-year-old pool player, eager to beat the local bully at the upcoming pool tournament. He has deep connections to the gamehis father, an award-winning professional player died when Mickey was a baby; his grandmother owns the local pool hall where the tournament will be played. Mickey's best friend, Arlen Pepper, a fifth grade math and science whiz was put on this earth with a mission to explain the world mathematically and scientifically through charts, drawings, and the occasional impassioned speech: "Math," Arlen shouts waving his protractor, which he takes everywhere, "will never fail you!" It is Arlen's grasp of how math and science work on a pool table that helps Mickey to become a better player, in addition to determined coaching by Mickey's father's best friend, Joseph Alvarez, back in town after a nine year absence.

But while Arlen's favorite subject is Math, Mickey's is History. I wanted to explore how a boy feeling embattled and in need of courage could read about historic battles and heroes in school and make the link to fighting his battles and finding courage and honor on his own. Thrown in for good measure is a fifth grade sprinkling of Geography and Art as well. Here are some of the ways in which Math, Science, History, Geography, and Art educate and empower Mickey Vernon to learn about pool, himself, and the world.

Math: Mickey, under Arlen's steely guidance, learns about anglesthe geometric secret to bank shots. He sees how vectors (lines) guide pool balls to pockets; how playing patterns can be analyzed using basic statistics to determine an opponent's weaknesses and strengths. My primary goal was to communicate to children that math is a language that explains why things work in the world. Math applicability is not only illustrated on a pool table, but in other parts of these fifth grade boys' lives as well: buying candy, trying to win the jelly bean guessing contest at Pearlman's World of Fashion, calculating the percentage of years left for Mickey to make good (using the average life span for American males) when he hurts his hand and his chances of playing in the tournament look bleak. "Are you going to argue with math?" Arlen shrieks when he presents his findings.

Science: Like geometry, Newton's Laws of Motion are beautifully displayed in the game of pool, showing why balls move in straight lines, accelerate, and stop. I wanted to underscore the Physics of pool throughout the story, so I chose to have the boys create a science fair project, "The Unbelievable Secrets of the Pool Table," incorporating Newton's Laws, to present at the hotly-contested science fair that Arlen aches to win from Rory Magellan, a fourth grade rival, who is constructing a five-foot high exploding volcano. My purpose was to entice readers into the excitement of learning about science and to show them its practical applicability by the on-going development of the science fair project. "We are developing this in utmost secrecy in Arlen's bedroom" says Mickey. "Arlen heard from Petie Pencastle that Rory Magellan has spies everywhere. Arlen says once your scientific secrets leak out, you can forget about your enduring place in history."

History: Mickey's love for History is fueled in Mrs. Riggles' fifth grade classroom as they study the American Revolution. "To understand where we're going," Mrs. Riggles says, "we've got to know where we've been." I wanted her to be an experiential teacher because those are the teachers I remembered most. To illustrate the Boston Tea Party, students scream "No more taxes" as a boat brimming with Lipton tea bags capsizes in a plastic tub. To connect her students with the hardships of war, she has them write letters home from the battle field as soldiers. "We are cold and hungry," Mickey writes as a soldier at Valley Forge. "We are tired and sick. I'm told we came here last month with 12,000 men, but there won't be that many when we leave." And at the peak of Mickey's discouragement, when his chances for winning the pool tournament seem darkest, Mrs. Riggles announces in class, "Let's talk about the acts of courage during the Revolutionary War. " Mickey, who needs a boost, responds expectantly: "I take out my history book and feel something shoot through me, like I'm connected to all the acts of courage in the whole world. Whether I get to the finals or choke in the early rounds, I know what I have to do."

Geography: One of the themes in Sticks is Finding Your Place in the World, and geography was a metaphor to me that underscored that message. Geography here is used to define character and to be a coveted ability--both Mickey and Arlen excel at it. Mickey has a globe and uses it as a point of reference when his truck driver friend and coach, Joseph Alvarez is away on the road. "I am very good at Geography," Mickey boasts. "I can name all fifty states alphabetically and every major river in the Western Hemisphere. I came in second at the Grover Cleveland geography bee next to Arlen, who always comes in first because he's gifted."

Art: I've used Art class as one of the ways to bridge multicultural connections. I wanted the blends of people and cultures to flow easily within Mickey's consciousness without boundaries. I wanted him to be "color-blind," to distinguish and celebrate people for their accomplishments while respecting their cultural differences. Through parts of the book, Mickey is making an African Zulu warrior mask in Art. Whenever he works on it, the warrior in him rises up.

"I'm working on my African warrior mask, painting the papier-mâché cheeks bright gold and purple. I stick feathers at the top and make the mouth look angry and I picture this huge warrior with a spear doing a death dance around Buck Pender. T. R. Dobbs is working on his mask next to me. He's descended from African Zulu warriors and he says a Zulu never retreats in the face of the enemy. I'm descended mostly from potato farmers, which isn't a lot to hold on to when you need to be tough. I lift the mask to my face and shout the Zulu war cry T. R. taught me.
`Zuuuuuuluuuuu Zuuuuuluuuuu!'
Mr. Pez, the art teacher, looks up. I look down and keep painting. Nobody turns me in."

LEARNING WITH THEMES
Ask a novelist about the themes in their work, and our eyes will grow soft and we will probably talk your head off. As I developed Sticks I mentally drew lines between subjects, themes, and life lessons, and, happily, discovered multiple links. (See Chart)
Overcoming Setbacks: This is a major message in the book. I was intrigued by how professional athletes came back from injuries since Mickey has to overcome a nasty sprained hand in order to compete. I studied several sports psychology approaches to understand the value of focus and learning how to play through pain. I read Olympian Dan Jansen's account of his many medal failures and how he overcame discouragement to win the gold. In fifth-grade jargon, I incorporated these findings into Mickey's rise to empowerment. Although he does play hurt at the tournament, he finds inner strength through focus to rise above the pain.
Pursuit of Excellence: This is echoed by Arlen and Joseph Alvarez. Bad habits need to be broken, pursuing excellence means hard work, determination, and humility.
Honor: Joseph Alvarez calls it a "pundonar"a Spanish word meaning, a point of honor, something you have to do. Both Joseph and Mickey discover that thing that honor dictates they must accomplish.
To Learn How to Win, You Must First Learn How to Lose: Emphasis on just winning dampens enthusiasm for simply playing and competing in a sport. Doing one's best, win or lose, is the secret of true champions.
Dealing with Personal Loss: Mickey struggles with the memory of his late father, a professional pool player, but learns the strength of connecting to his pain and his heritage.
Overcoming Bullies: I took great joy in this one since I have a deep, primal disdain for bullying in any form. Mickey learns to overcome Buck Pender by becoming a better pool player, not giving Buck a payoff, and taking the high road.
Being Who You Are: Arlen's approach to living.
It's Never Too Late to Do the Right Thing: Joseph Alvarez returns to town after a nine year absence to restore his relationship with Mickey's family.
Forgiveness: Mickey's mother struggles to forgive Joseph who she feels deserted the family after her husband's death.

Sticks is a book about connections. Math and science link to pool; history trumpets courage; losing leads to winning; disappointment forces growth. Exposure, experience, and explanation: for me, these have always been some of life's greatest teachers. I hope that the integration in Sticks will offer students a new look not just at pool, but at themselves and the world around them. "That's the thing about pool," Mickey Vernon offers at the book's close. "Some people see numbered balls on a table and just learn the rules. But when the game's in your blood, you learn what's inside of you."