A receipt. A birth certificate. A report card. A doctor’s file. What do these types of documents know about us? A lot. In fact, they tell intimate stories about who we are.
The oldest epistolary novel likely dates back to the 15th century, but 21st century secondary students are aware of the form, even if they don’t have a term for it. In its simplest form, it’s a novel written in letters, deriving from Latin from the Greek word for letter.
Students have certainly encountered stories in their English classes that possess epistolary features, such as Gulliver’s Travels, Dracula, Frankenstein, The Diary of a Young Girl, The Color Purple—or excerpts from one or more of these novels. Epistolary narratives gained favor in the 18th and 19th centuries and were typically comprised of letters but varied to travelogues or diary entries. Often, authors used the form merely as a framing device.
However, once again, for readers of all ages, especially young readers, novels that incorporate epistolary features have become popular. Features might include graphic illustrations, maps, diary or journal entries, letters, postcards, and myriad digital files, such as ads, websites, chats, messages, emails, and texts. A page-flip through one of these novels might snare the most hesitant reader.
The appeal of multi-document epistolary narratives may lie in the fact these stories mirror the short-form, hyperlinked reading so many young readers engage in daily as they click or scroll from article to video to photo to website to survey to song to game to graphic illustration, often engaging in multiple media simultaneously. The contemporary epistolary can simulate this authentic ‘text-in-the-wild’ reading experience, creating a natural interactivity between reader and story. Readers puzzle together the story, like a reading anthropologist or gamer. The primary document feel perhaps resonates with young readers due to its popularity in shows and found- footage films, merging the surface appearance of fiction and nonfiction.
Limitless Possibilities
Today’s epistolary novels have broadened and invigorated the form. The choice of documents an author uses to tell their story is as limitless as the types of documents in the world.
At the turn of the Century, two novels in particular The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky (1999) and Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak (1999) broke ground in reigniting the form, becoming best sellers as well as often-challenged books, with one told through letters and the other through journal entries. Still popular today, the novels have made waves with readers and gatekeepers alike.
Fifteen years later, Nicola Yoon’s Everything, Everything (2015) stars a mishmash of straight prose and epistolary features, such as simple doodles and a wide array of text types, including doctor’s records, emails, and concrete poetry to name just a few. The novel, albeit lighter in content than the aforementioned two, serves up authentic concerns of a teen living in the 21st century. The protagonist 18-year-old Maddy, who is homebound due to a serious illness, occupies her days observing the world from her window, co-monitoring her health with her mother, reading books, and creating one-sentence book reviews that often contain spoilers. Maddy’s life of isolation is shared through her writing and sketches, observational notes, text messages, and other documents. Eventually, she forges an important relationship outside the
bounds of her physical confines, challenging what she’s always believed about herself and her medical condition.
Everything, Everything is a fast-paced narrative that cumulatively builds background, character, and plot, while the form and theme align. Readers learn about Maddy’s world interactively through the character’s explorations and meaning-making pursuits, creating a high-interest, motivating read.
The concise chapters, sometimes as brief as an illustration, make Everything, Everything fitting for shared and excerpted reading. Additionally, the novel is rich with references to other works, such as the epistolary Flowers for Algernon, Lord of the Flies, and The Little Prince, creating opportunities for the discussion of the intertextuality of literature as well as pointing students to other books of interest.
Why Study Epistolary
The most obvious benefit to studying epistolary is the ways in which students must engage actively as readers. These stories demand detective work on the part of the reader, in the same way a verse novel or graphic novel does, with readers relying on their inference skills as they read beyond the margins. They are tasked with questioning and making connections, pulling together the pieces to see the whole, which is how one makes sense of concepts in science and events in history. Readers must employ critical thinking to uncover the narrative line, like a doctor determining a diagnosis, a lawyer building a case, or a detective compiling witness statements.
The epistolary form often allows readers to approach a story from multiple angles, perspectives, or voices, which is helpful when peering into lives of characters or settings that are different or distanced in time or geography from the reader’s own.
Furthermore, such reading reinforces, especially in the case of Everything, Everything where mental and physical health are topical, the importance of being an active participant in life—reading the fine print, the full contract, the extended agreement—to be your own best advocate.
Opportunities for Writing Instruction and Practice
Astute teachers who seamlessly link reading to writing instruction will realize how the study of epistolary narratives naturally lends itself to opportunities for students to practice creative expression and a slew of other writing skills. Students can be invited to write in response to an epistolary novel they’ve read, summarizing, analyzing, synthesizing, and demonstrating their comprehension. Or they can be invited to create their own narrative story using epistolary
features.
Epistolary loans students already existing forms (e.g., letter, email, text), so they can focus their energies on creating the story itself. This provides an easy entry into telling a story, akin to quilting, collage, or Lego play. Students can create the parts and then thoughtfully order them, building a story one piece at a time until it takes tangible shape in front of their eyes. Students can also be tasked with explaining what each piece contributes to their story—theme, characterization, advancement of plot, illustration of setting, and so forth. For example, Maddy’s book reviews in Everything, Everything help to establish her characterization, specifically her love and breadth of reading.
On a basic level, epistolary writing can aid brainstorming. Students can groupthink endless types of documents that could be used to tell a story, and what secrets could be revealed or hidden in certain documents. Students will get creative and conjure such oddities as gravestones, horoscopes, obituaries, dating profiles, prescriptions. They might even consider their own primary documents—their driver’s license or permit, their discipline file, their report card—and what these reveal about them. Students can brainstorm one-off lists for a character in a novel or their own original character, such as a character’s to-do list, list of favorites or fears, life plans, bucket list, playlist, map of their bedroom, and others, all of which could be included in a story. The teacher can lead students in a discussion of how these documents create exposition differently than in a traditional prose novel. In fact, many authors naturally engage in this type of writing play when building the worlds of their novels, as a type of creative research.
Teachers can adapt epistolary writing activities to include specific forms or a specific number of documents. They can even isolate and practice certain writing skills. For instance, if a teacher wants students to practice letter or email writing that introduces or summarizes, for example, then that can be part of the assignment. Differentiation can occur by requiring a certain number, length, or type of text at students’ proficiency levels. Additionally, teachers can engage different learning modalities by allowing students to create song lyrics or digital or hand-draw illustrations as part of the story assignment.
The most elementary epistolary writing assignment may be letter writing, which is beneficial as students practice both story skills (i.e., character, setting, plot) and letter writing/direct communication skills. Letter writing, although dated, is still a valuable skill in the world at large. Students could write a letter to an existing character in an epistolary novel; in the point of view of a character; from one character to another, such as the protagonist to the antagonist; or they could have two characters tell their side of the same conflict, demonstrating comprehension of multiple perspectives and motivation. The possibilities are endless. If the student drafts an original story using letters, then they will have to consider how each letter moves the story along through the beginning, middle, and ending. Furthermore, epistolary writing is naturally scaffolded, as more advanced writers can attempt experimentation with multiple narratives, angles, or points of view.
As a nonfiction extension, students could explore historical events or eras by creating a brief epistolary in response, demonstrating their learning and newfound knowledge. For example, students could consider what documents could tell Rosa Park’s story. A bus ticket? An arrest record? Building a story, fiction or nonfiction, around multiple texts and witnesses can provide a deeper understanding of the world in which we live.
Any school’s librarian should be able to assist teachers and students in finding classic and new novels and even short stories that employ the epistolary form. Additionally, Goodreads compiles lists of epistolary novels for various reading audiences. Nicola Yoon is just one contemporary novelist crafting this type of multi-document epistolary. There are many other genre-bending, experimental narratives, loosely classified as epistolary, out there waiting to be discovered—and
often devoured—by readers.
Caroline Brooks DuBois is an award-winning teacher, author, and poet. She is the author of The Places We Sleep, an NCTE Notable Book in Poetry and A Bank Street Best Children’s Book of the Year, and Ode to a Nobody, which received Starred Reviews from Publishers Weekly and School Library Journal and was a nominee for the Tennessee Volunteer State Book
Award. Caroline directs the Literary Arts Conservatory at Nashville School of the Arts, where she’s been recognized for her dedication to her students and as a Blue Ribbon Teacher, a Teacher of the Year, and a semifinalist for High School Teacher of the Year for her district.