Writers need feedback, and I have found the perfect focus group*. It offers raw, physical reactions, delivered with zero concern for the writer’s feelings. These savage critics are called Grayson, Brayson, Jaden, Jason, Kaden, Braydon and Graydon** and they’re all five years old.

Yes, last weekend I taught a kindergarten class, the first since Covid. Games, drawing, circle time, occasional puppetry and letter of the day! The lesson plan instructed me to read them a specific book, one with lovely art and a plot consisting of “kids want to do something and so they do it”.

My focus group’s response to this tale? Complete disinterest.

Despite being well-behaved, they barely listened, choosing instead to roll around on the mat, gaze at the ceiling and catalogue boogers. Behavioural commentary that screamed “wanting to do something and then just doing it isn’t great literature!” Indeed, it’s a terrible hook for five-year-olds, who often want to do things but can’t because of demanding parents, school obligations, learning difficulties, disruptive peers, or just the general problem that this world is far too big.

I finished the story, wondering if it was too early to break out the crafts and crayons, but then one of the kids stood up. I can’t remember which of the Gra-ja-da-sons it was, but I think of him as Little Chuck from To Kill a Mockingbird (the universe assigns every kindy class a kid who takes pity on the poor new teacher). He’d been helpful with the whiteboard eraser earlier, and he now held out a book.

“Teacher, can you read us this one?”

Okay. Always trust Little Chuck.

It was about people getting on a bus at a bus stop, but then the bus couldn’t drive off because a dog sat in the road. Everyone tried to get it to move through shouting, pulling, honking, and scolding, but the dog would not get out of the way. It didn’t seem like a gripping narrative, but these kids were HOOKED. They were so engrossed, I could have said “six, seven” and gotten zero response. The story concluded with the arrival of a boy who patted the dog and said, “Good dog”. The dog wagged its tail, got up and left. The End.

Stunning. No words. I could have read that book*** ten times, and the kids would have been as engaged.

Why?

Because it had a plot. Every attempt by an adult used more force, and the kids drank in the mounting desperation of these authority figures until… Ah! A gentle word from a kid saved the day.

The distilled wisdom from my pint-sized sages? Readers lean in for conflict but tune out for wish-fulfilment.

*Besides our beloved Litopia.

**The girls had varied and specific names, in every spelling imaginable. I cannot share them because they are so unique as to be identifiable.

***I can’t remember the title or author of this book. It definitely wasn’t All About a Dog by A. G. Gardiner. It seemed to be part of some educational series. If anyone knows what this is, please let me know.