Body functions—yuck!—can lure even the most reluctant readers

When he found out about my booktalking, the businessman next to me on the plane asked that I recommend titles for his home-schooled kids. The nine-year-old boy read voraciously, but the 12-year-old girl wouldn’t touch a book. So I offered my sympathies. Then I pulled out my laptop. Catching sight of some of the eye-catching book covers there, the businessman stared in fascination. “My daughter,” he exclaimed, “would love those books about gross stuff!”

Ah, yes. We often assume that boys alone relish the gruesome side of life, but many girls, while feigning disgust, are equally intrigued. These days, both genders are in luck. There’s a bumper crop of gross titles fairly bursting from the shelves.

I was thrilled to see Susan Goodman follow up her classic The Truth About Poop (2004) with Gee Whiz! It’s All About Pee (2006, both Viking). Like it or not, every creature pees. If we didn’t, we’d die. Tell your booktalk listeners that their bladders store at least an ounce of urine for every year of their age. That’ll hook them.

They’ll also want to know that astronauts wear diapers and that when their pee reaches outer space, it freezes and looks like stars (from our earthly vantage, at least). Spies in ancient Rome used urine to write invisible messages between the lines of official documents; hence the phrase “reading between the lines.” Southern ladies during the Civil War, meanwhile, knew Confederate soldiers used pee to make gunpowder. That’s why they generously donated theirs as a wee gesture of support.

Prehistoric poop makes for more good reading. Jacob Berkowitz’s Jurassic Poop: What Dinosaurs (and Others) Left Behind (Kids Can, 2006) reveals that a piece of fossilized dinosaur poop is called a coprolite and that scientists have found lots of it. The biggest so far is the size of a loaf of bread.

Berkowitz teaches us how to recognize ancient poop and even how to make fake coprolite (recipe provided)—a perfect activity for science or art class.

The list of gross things seems never-ending. Jeff Szpirglas’s Gross Universe: Your Guide to All Disgusting Things Under the Sun (Maple Tree, 2006) ranges from pus to cockroaches. Did you know these bugs breathe through their bodies, not their heads? So after a cockroach has eaten, it can live for a month without its head because it breathes through its body.

Which brings us to gross smells. Marilyn Singer’s What Stinks? (Darby Creek, 2006) explains that women’s sense of smell exceeds men’s, while kids can smell things better than adults. There also exist cultural differences as to “what stinks.” Americans spend millions on deodorants. Other world citizens actually like body odors.

Then there’s the animal kingdom. Komodo dragons, writes Singer, sample other Komodo dragons’ poop to determine whether an environment is safe or they should scram. Rhinos living together poop in the same location, then drag their feet through the stuff. Other animals don’t like the smell, so they stay away.

Humans often do likewise. Want a quick way to get bad breath and gross out your friends? Put peeled cloves of garlic in your socks and walk around for at least seven hours, Singer advises. Because your skin absorbs the odor, people won’t want you to open your mouth.

Of course, you’ll suggest to your booktalk audience not to try these things at home, even as you supply lots of yucky titles to reel in more readers.

Because when all else fails, and kids from third grade up to middle school won’t even look at a book—like that businessman’s daughter—yucky stuff may be the slimy key that unlocks their curiosity. So go ahead, gross them out!