This is the first in a series of guest posts on heroines featured in The Heroine’s Bookshelf.  My guests?  Honored authors, writers, experts, historians, and more.  First up is Darren Garnick, an unlikely adherent of everyone’s favorite Anne with an e.  Want to combine some winning with your reading?  Click here to win a galley of the book (and for links to other contests featuring the book).

Greg Heffley, the sarcastic protagonist of the bestselling "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series, is not psyched his mother started a summer reading club for him and his friends.

I grew up reading Judy Blume’s “Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing” series, which was heavily promoted during my elementary school librarian’s story hour. Many of the same themes of awkward adolescence are now the bedrock of Jeff Kinney’s “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” series, which I’ve been reading aloud with my 8-year-old son. I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing Kinney for a newspaper column, and was happy to learn that he’s been using his fame to encourage boys to embrace reading and writing for fun.

To Greg Heffley, being assigned a "girl's book" like "Anne of Green Gables" is a fate worse than death.

For some bizarre reason, as students get older, writing is considered more of “a girl’s thing.” And so is reading “the classics,” which is a theme that pops up in the fourth Wimpy Kid book, “Dog Days.”

Maybe because there’s no braids, but that’s the most masculine-looking Anne I’ve ever seen.

Well, except for this Anne…

You, too, can be "Anne of Green Gables" at the Cavendish Figurines costume booth in PEI

That’s me in the green dress at the beginning of my Prince Edward Island vacation last summer. For the record, I did take the costume off a few days after the photo and mostly traveled around the province in my street clothes. But before planning my family trip, I had never even heard of “Anne of Green Gables” or Lucy Maud Montgomery. I’m not sure why this is, because I had been aware of other “girl’s books” when I was a kid. I just didn’t read them.

So along with my wife, son and daughter, I listened to the first Anne book on CD during our endless drive through New Brunswick, Canada. By the time we reached the Confederation Bridge to PEI, I knew Anne was an imaginative, stubborn, ambitious, and melodramatic girl who had the courage to stand up to bullies — and was also someone who appreciated the nuances of every blade of grass. The story kept the attention of everyone in the car.

(I’m fully aware that listening to the audiobook gives me zero literary street cred, but reading at the wheel is far deadlier than texting. Marilla wouldn’t approve!)

When I arrived in PEI, I was blown away by how much a children’s book character can impact a community. Sure, there’s usually the obligatory museum or bronze statue at the birthplace of a famous author, but nothing like this.

Cloning Anne at the Cavendish Figurines photo booth at the Confederation Bridge.

At the Cavendish Figurines photo booth, tourists are encouraged to pose in group shots as Anne, almost like a scene from a Lucy Maud Montgomery-inspired science fiction movie. Co-owner Jeannette Arsenault told me that despite the availability of Gilbert (Anne’s boyfriend and hubby) and Matthew (Anne’s guardian) costumes, more than 90 percent of visitors want to be Anne. Even the guys.

Now, that’s quite the star power for a fictitious female character. You don’t see many boys rushing to be Belle, Princess Jasmine or Arielle at Disney World.

Anne Shirley is iconic. Her optimism and upbeat attitude is something that all Canadians are proud to identify with.

A friend of mine who actually has read “Anne of Green Gables” in its original book form told me she was extremely disappointed by the commercialism surrounding the character on the island. I couldn’t disagree more. Take a look at the marketing display on this refrigerator for Raspberry Cordial soda:

Mocking Anne at the Mini Golf Course!

Merchants are not slapping Anne’s image on random items, such as toilet paper or breakfast cereal. There’s a literary basis to everything. Sure, the Avonlea Village theme park is rather pricey. But for fans who want to lip sync scenes of the book while they are being performed live, this is their “Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

A little bit down the road from Avonlea is the Fantazmagoric Museum of the Strange & Unusual, which also runs a snack bar and mini golf course. It is here where you will find the only remotely negative portrayal of Anne. And even so, it appears to be a tribute to her, in the satiric spirit of Mad Magazine or Wacky Package stickers:

It’s all fine and dandy when children’s books have life lessons, role models and spark discussion. But if the story doesn’t entertain first, then the book is going to have all the charm of a church sermon. I say this as a former fan of the Davey & Goliath animated series — was that claymation? — which was the only cartoon on TV on Sundays when I was growing up. As an adult, I realize that the producers were attempting to shove a syrupy lesson down my throat from the very first frame.

On a secular note, the Pixar movie “Cars” accomplishes the same feat. Kids will watch an endearing love story between a sportscar and a racing car with a goofy tow truck tossed in for comic relief. But us adults realize the movie is a warning not to ignore our personal relationships in the mad pursuit of our career goals — and a simple plea to appreciate the journey as much as the final destination.

Forget Disney or Sea World: Visit the Avonlea theme park for a full dose of Anne.

“Anne of Green Gables” succeeds on this level. As a journalist and a stickler for spelling (please tell me there are no errors here), I love Anne’s militant defense of the “e” at the end of her name. I also resent the adults in her life who advise her to tone down her gregarious personality. But I appreciate the mindless sitcom plots, such as Anne accidentally giving Diana red wine instead of raspberry cordial, and Anne mistakenly dyeing her hair green in an attempt to get rid of her natural red.

Decades after Lucy Maud Montgomery came up with those stories, I saw them duplicated on The Flintstones (Pebbles’ birthday party guests accidentally got served “cactus juice”) and The Brady Bunch (Greg accidentally dyed his hair green, resulting in multiple embarrassing trips to his mom’s beauty parlor).

For the record, Anne is also a lot tougher than Greg, the star of the Wimpy Kid series. If author Jeff Kinney is managing to score a surprising 40 percent female readership, maybe the Anne books can increase their male market share. Bribing boys with sugar might not be the most ethical way to boost readership, but I suspect it might be the most effective:

A toast to Anne and Diana... and bright red sugary drinks!

(Darren Garnick is a freelance journalist and documentary filmmaker obsessed with travel and pop culture. He also happens to be fascinated with Little House on the Prairie, having seen practically every episode as a childhood TV ritual with his grandparents.  If you have ever taken funny travel photos related to your favorite literature, please contact him at darrengarnick (at) gmail.com)

To wit:

I am in Honolulu. it is a real pretty place. Mama is making a dress for me. papa is up north where it is cold. he will come back pretty soon. I have two kittens here and one aboard the ship. good by for today.

LOVE.

Anyway, it got me thinking…you don’t have to be a grown woman to be a heroine.  After all, our first encounter with Jane Eyre is when she is a small thing, curled up on the windowsill reading a book.  Francie Nolan transforms from skinny child to woman-too-soon in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  And Laura Ingalls is young indeed in most of the Little House books.

These young girls remind me of my friend’s daughter Addie, to whom I read approximately 13232532623234623456 books on a recent babysitting excursion, and my niece September, who is spunky and prideful enough for any storybook.

I get excited just thinking about it…what heroism is in their cards?  Did you show signs of heroism as a little girl?

For example, I could never stand my brothers’ little league games (for shame!) and so I’d sneak off with one of those long Jolly Ranchers and read with my back against a tree.  And I will never forget the cement blocks next to my house in Oak Park, San Diego.  In the morning they’d soak up the sun.  Then I’d lie on them, absorbing warmth, cramming as many books into my head as my head could reasonably tolerate (and often more).

Then there are the many German trains in which I was rocked almost to sleep by my reading and the movement of the locomotive.  And the deep cool rooms somewhere in Nielsen Library at Smith College.

Nowadays, I read a lot while dining alone in restaurants or snuggled up in my bed.  Sometimes the locale becomes a part of the book I’m enjoying…the loud waiters are the Confederate soldiers leaving Atlanta, the blanket I pull up around me is a quilt hand-patched by some long-gone pioneer.  And so I have to ask…what literary places are wrapped up with your reading habits?  Do you tune out your surroundings or let place in?

Illustration via Bethany Schlegel Art and Design

The yummy results follow.  Each is directly attributed to one of my favorite authors or one of her family members.  Also, how awful is it that I’ve given up sweets for Lent?  I know what I’ll be preparing Easter Sunday.

Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Mock Cherry Pie

Food fakery is a vital heroine skill.  Don’t have cherries?  Cranberries and raisins will do just as well!  This recipe is attributed to Maud, whose Marilla admonishes:  “You’ve got to keep your wits about you in cooking and not stop in the middle of things to let your thoughts rove all over creation.” (Prefer raspberry cordial or some other dishes mentioned in the Anne books?  This link’s for you.)

Pastry for a double-crust 9-inch pie
2 cups cranberries, chopped
1 cup raisins, chopped
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup cold water
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

Line a 9-inch pie plate with half the pastry. Make a lattice crust with remaining dough.  In a saucepan, combine cranberries, raisins, sugar, flour and water; bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Stir in vanilla.  Turn filling into pastry-lined pie plate. Moisten edge with water and top with lattice crust.  Bake at 425 degrees F for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 degrees F and bake another 20 to 30 minutes, or until crust is nicely browned and filling is bubbly. Serves six.

Louisa May Alcott’s Blancmange

Did you ever read Little Women and wonder, like me, what the heck blancmange is?  I am led to believe that it is a kind of sweet, white flan, as sweet and white as the plump hands of Meg March, whom I can imagine creating this blancmange and complaining over her unfashionable gowns.  You will recall that Jo brings a blancmange to Laurie when he is sick as a sort of wedge into his house and heart.  She succeeds.  This recipe is attributed to Abba Alcott, Louisa’s mother.

2 tbsp arrowroot
1 quart milk
1/2 cup sugar, more to taste
1 pinch salt
Something savory – orange water, rose water, or lemon peel

Take two tablespoonfuls of arrowroot to one quart of milk and a pinch of salt. Scald the milk, sweeten it with sugar to taste and then stir in the arrowroot, which must first be wet with some milk. Let it boil once. Orange water, rose water, or lemon peel can be used to flavor it. Pour it into molds to cool.

Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Gingerbread

Whenever I gain a pound, I blame Laura, whose description of crackling pig tails, bountiful pies, and tables laden with the goodness of hardy, sensible pioneer cooking are enough to drive any girl face-first into a pile of biscuits.  Though it’s easy to find recipes inspired by the Little House books, it’s harder to find ones directly attributed to Laura that aren’t protected by copyright.  Here’s one to start with:

1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup lard (fine, shortening will do)
1 cup molasses
2 tsp baking soda
1 cup boiling water
3 cups flour
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs

Blend brown sugar with lard.  Mix in molasses until well-coated.  Dissolve baking soda in boiling water (be sure cup is full of water after foam runs off into cake mixture).  Mix well.  In a separate bowl, mix flour with spices and salt.  Sift into wet mixture and mix well; mixture will be “quite thin.”  Finally, add two well-beaten eggs and bake in a moderate (350 degrees) for thirty minutes.

In celebration of Laura, here are some fun facts about the mother of the Little House on the Prairie books:

• In her later years, Laura was notoriously frugal, probably because of the many years of disaster she endured both as a girl pioneer and as wife in a family plagued by economic and physical hardship.  When financial times got hard (the family lost much of their money in the stock market crash of 1929), a standard money-saving suggestion was to turn off the electricity.
• Laura was a fierce competitor and once declared that she would live to 90 because her husband, Almanzo, had.
• Laura wasn’t “just” a writer…she was a poultry and farming expert who was widely sought after for her advice and input on rural life.
• Rose Wilder Lane wasn’t Laura’s only child.  She had a son, never named, who died soon after his birth in 1889.
• When Laura’s books took off, she didn’t keep her earnings all to herself.  Instead, she sent several young people through college and provided for her parents in their old age.
• Laura was truly a “half-pint of cider half drunk up”…she stood four feet eleven inches tall.
• The Little House on the Prairie books were originally written as a long-form memoir for an adult audience, but Laura’s daughter Rose convinced her to try it for the children’s market after it failed to sell.  Laura’s sister Carrie apparently provided both moral support and supplemented Laura’s writing with her own memories.

• The new Louisa May Alcott movie that recently ran on American Masters on PBS.  I really enjoyed this film, even though I abhor historical reenactments in documentaries.  The best part was watching LMA’s biographers and great champions Madeleine Stern and Dr. Leona Rostenberg talk about figuring out that Louisa wrote pulp novels under the name of A.M. Barnard.  Their glee over this momentous literary discovery, half a decade after the fact, was contagious.  (Also, who doesn’t love elderly female scholars?)
• Lizzie Skurnick’s recent article on heroines in peril.  Though I don’t agree with the article entirely, I think it’s important to look at what heroines are doing and how it affects readers and viewers. (Thanks to Lorelei Laird for pointing me to this link.)
• Little House:  The Musical! also known as The Best Christmas Present Ever.  Though several anachronisms made me cringe (the Ingalls girls betting on a horse race?  I think not!), it was a great way to spend an evening.

There were so many ways of seeing things and so many ways of saying them.

- Laura Ingalls Wilder, On the Shores of Silver Lake

Left to right:  Caroline Celestia “Carrie” Ingalls, Mary Ingalls, Laura Ingalls, late 1870s