The Elementary Teacher's Revenge: How Classroom Monsters Wound Up on the Page
by GoComics
Andrews McMeel Publishing recently released a kids' book entitled "The Dreadful Fate of Jonathan York," a beautifully illustrated, Tim-Burton-esqe tribute to the life-changing power of stories, and one of the five stories that make up Kory Merrit's "Lost Side of Suburbia" series.
If you've ever read Kory's work on GoComics, you've encountered some of the strange creatures that inhabit Kory's world. And you may have wondered, where does he come up with such delightfully grotesque little monsters? As a former camp counselor and current K-6 art teacher, Kory will tell you that the answer is pretty close to home. Read on:
"One day I will write and draw books!"
That's what I'd say as a grade-school student. Of course, I knew nothing of sales or the difficult market; I'd heard too many "You Can Do Anything You Want If You Believe In Yourself" stories, so the thought of settling for a more realistic career never occurred to me. I'd read Bill Peet's books and studied his illustrations, I'd been enthralled by "The Hobbit" and Brian Jacques' "Redwall" novels, and I knew storytelling was what I wanted to do. Not oral storytelling - even as a snotty kid I was aware of my nasal voice - but I was a halfway-decent writer and practiced doodler, so it felt like the natural path.
But somewhere along the way, I must have been struck by the reality brick - my parents, while very encouraging, are also practical folk, and illustration/cartooning doesn't always provide a comfortable living (or health insurance). So I went to college, got my teacher certification and landed a job as a New York public school elementary art teacher.
But my love of weird stories never went away; it only intensified as I discovered Stephen King, Peter S. Beagle, Berkeley Breathed, George RR Martin, and Terry Pratchett. And during my college years, I worked as a counselor at a summer camp, where telling bedtime devotion stories was always a highlight.
So it seemed my childhood plans were not totally accurate: I was not a professional kids' author/illustrator, but at least I was drawing and being creative and working with children.
And most of the time I was happy with this, for I found many of the kids I worked with to be fun and appreciative. But then there were those very special students - any educator knows the sort - the ones who get your bile bubbling. The ones who won't shut up when you're giving directions, but refuse to participate when you lead the class in an interactive story or song. The ones who decide to have a meltdown in the middle of your biannual observation.
The Little Monsters.
So how does one deal with the Little Monsters? Take advice from Marzano or Danielson or some buzzword-spewing chump with an education doctorate but zero classroom experience?
Me, I decided to channel my frustrations into my illustrated stories.
I didn't have a publisher at the time, but some lucky freelance work with websites like FunBrain and GoComics gave me an opportunity to publish some of my own stories online. So each evening, as the sun sank low and the shadows sidled in like predators seeking out the sick animals in a herd, I'd pull out my pen and paper and scribble out stories. You've heard the expression "Write What You Know" -- perhaps my own adventures were a bit sparse, but I did know one thing: I knew about little monsters. Knew them first hand. And so I filled my stories with all sorts of bogies, and whenever I needed inspiration for a twisted face or bugging eyeball or sneering lips, I'd simply remember my worst classroom experiences, and inspiration would hit me like a ripe tomato.
I'm lucky that my first illustrated book hit shelves in 2015. It's called "The Dreadful Fate of Jonathan York," published by Andrews McMeel, and features a milquetoast fellow who ends up lost in strange swamp and must face all sorts of challenges, including thieves, swamp monsters, an evil ice cream conspiracy and (worst of all!) public speaking. And of course it's loaded with monsters. They snarl and shriek and cackle and belch"...
I wonder if they'll read the book? And if they do, will they recognize themselves?
I'm still a long way from being a successful author/illustrator, but at least I've found some use for the Little Monsters.