What led me down the path of verse novels came from my first encounter with one, being The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo. Throughout my encounter with this book I was continually shocked, and in many ways remain so. This form felt so incredibly powerful and it was unlike anything I had ever seen. I had read epics, but of course nothing contemporary, and nothing which opened up a modern space for poetry to sit in quite like this.

Naturally, after my encounter with The Poet X I became interested in other verse novels which were out there, and more largely in the place which poetry had in the YA genre. Eventually I encountered Crank by Ellen Hopkins, and these are the books which I will be looking at here.

I wondered if there might be some neurological implication to this inclination towards poetry as a form of expression and if the verse novels were tapping into something key to the YA mind. I began to feel this intuitively as I read the verse myself. To me, it seemed that the fragmentary quality of the poetry, or its pace, or its ability to--as Kelly Bingham, author of Shark Girl described it--"jump right in [and] ... get straight into the heart of [the] character." (Meyer) would really appeal to the YA mind. For this, I decided to do some research into how poetry takes place in our brains, not just on a page.

Utilizing functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), researchers have been able to closely examine how the human brain responds to poetry. They have found in our neurology an innate recognition of the rhymes and rhythms which poets use, and which make them distinct from prose, speech, and other more ordinary forms of writing. Additionally, they've found that some of the same areas which are utilized to help us interpret our everyday reality, are also activated in the act of contemplation which poetry lends itself, and the in the layered nature of poetic meaning,

Music is instantly rewarding -- the moment you feel that drop, or that perfect note, or that beat, there is an instant rush of pleasure. People can even identify different sounds as sounding heavier and sadder, or sounding lighter and happier. Often, this doesn't require any kind of interrogation or analysis, it is simply an innate feeling. Poetry they found, is rewarding as well, but not precisely in the same way. According to Philip Davis, professor and director of Exeter's Institute of Psychology, Health and Society, "The poetic work triggered different parts of the brain related to non-automatic processing of meaning, leading to increased lively activation of mind and a simultaneous sense of psychological reward." So, what is rewarding about poetry is in its complexity and layeredness. Poetry doesn't reveal itself all at once, instead it asks for "lively activation of the mind." This layeredness is precisely what makes poetry an effective form for the writers I work with, as well as the authors I'll be examining. It is the complexity and nuance of poetry which allows for more to be accomplished in a smaller amount of space and which contributes to the sense of reward one feels upon finishing a poem, or finishing a novel in verse. Less becomes more, what is not said becomes just as important as what is said.

We see a similar reflection in the last stanza of the poem "Names" in The Poet X. The line breaks force the reader to read each line as a separate unit, and in this way cuts the unity between them. This creates an effect in which the penultimate line "they got combat boots and a mouth silent" runs into the image of the machete at the end of the following line. Here, Acevedo uses poetic form as a means to emphasize and expand the emotion of her content. This provides the reader with a deeper look into the mind of X, without requiring any further elucidation. This is one of the fundamental attributes of poetic form, specifically in YA: a lot can be achieved in a small amount of space.

Here Acevedo captures a small moment of two hands finding each other beneath a desk within a poem. And because of the nature of the form, the space within that container is maximized to bring about the maximum emotion. In particular, the line "like me. If he's frontin'" accomplishes so much. It lets the reader into how X is approaching this situation, while also letting us into her thoughts about how Aman is responding and thinking about the situation. And this reflection of hers goes beyond this mere moment -- but is a point by which she reflects on their whole relationship. All of this occurs within a single line. Here the form allows for a quickness which does not have to sacrifice richness of detail nor emotion. This is at the core of what makes poetry such a strong YA form. Less becomes more, and this allows for the reader to also accomplish much more in a shorter space of time, but still feel like they got a full experience.

Clearly, poetry as a form has something very unique to bring to young adults as a story telling medium. From my experience with SpeakOut! I have seen first hand young adults gravitate toward this form and accomplish great things with it. It was my inclination that there was something deeply rewarding in the nature of the form itself. I wondered, why were these girls writing poetry? And some of these answers are found in the verse of Ellen Hopkins and Elizabeth Acevedo.

Poetry creates a space in which what is not said is just as powerful as what is said. It creates room for rhythm and music, it taps into parts of our brains which help us feel and reflect. It allows the page to become part of the work, and allows for multiple elements of storytelling to occur all at once. It creates a sense of real accomplishment and power in a short amount of space and time. It allows the writer, or the reader, to dive right into the subject without feeling like something is missing. In fact, it seems that what is missing becomes entirely part of the magic. And all of these are great advantages, whether you are trying to author your own story, or read another's.