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Thirty years after it was first published, The Outsiders still carries the same frightening and unifying messages for teens (and readers of all ages). The ruthlessly realistic and violent story of the Greasers and the Socs, rival gangs from very different sides of the railroad tracks, is narrated by Ponyboy Curtis, a smart, sensitive kid who has grown to become one of the most recognizable figures in the history of young adult literature. Any teen who has ever felt isolated or different can identify with Ponyboy, a kid forced to be tough on the outside, but who underneath is just as scared and needy as anyone. Hinton herself has said that she has never written a character as close to her own self as Ponyboy is. Young Adult fiction was shaped and defined by Susan Eloise Hinton, and the realism she attached to the genre became the norm, enabling later writers like Robert Cormier and Judy Blume to find characters and voices that actually spoke to adolescents. Since 1967, Ponyboy has become the hero for countless teenagers nationwide as The Outsiders stands to influence an entire new legion of adolescents who need Ponyboy as much as ever.
Three brothers struggle to stay together after their parents' death, as they search for an identity among the conflicting values of their adolescent society in which they find themselves "outsiders."
It is very difficult for me to write about myself, and especially The Outsiders, which was written at a horrendous time in my life, was published by a series of mind-boggling synchronicities, and has gone further than any author dared dream. But I’ll give it a shot.
I wrote The Outsiders when I was sixteen years old. Actually I began it when I was fifteen, as a short story about a boy who was beaten up on his way home from the movies.
But I didn’t just write The Outsiders, I lived it. Looking back, I realize how important it was to me to have another life at that time. To be someone else. To deal with problems I had to face, and write my way to some sort of understanding and coping. This is all in hindsight. At the time, I was mad about the social situation in my high school. I desperately wanted something to read that dealt realistically with teen-age life.
I knew I was going to be a writer. I love to write. I began in grade school, because I loved to read, and liked the idea of making stories happen the way I wanted them to. By the time I was in high school I had been practicing for years. So I was both elated and not surprised when I received my publishing contract on the day I graduated from high school.
The Outsiders has taken me many places I never dreamed of going. It introduced me to people I would never otherwise have met. Although the names Patrick Swayze, Tom Cruise, Matt Dillon, Rob Lowe, C. Thomas Howell, Emilio Estevez, and Ralph Macchio are familiar to most people, and conjure visions of movie stars and glamour, I remember a group of sweet, goofy, incredibly talented and at the same time incredibly normal teen-age boys. I was involved in every aspect of filming the movie version of The Outsiders, and the memory I cherish most is of hanging out with “my boys.”
I owe Francis Coppola a debt of thanks. Not only for the respect, kindness, and friendship I personally received from him, but for the fact that he made the movie for the fans of the book. He shot a faithful adaptation, consulting me for everything from locations to wardrobe, but it was the fans of the book he wanted to please. And as far as I know, he is the only director to go back and assemble a more complete movie (The Outsiders, The Complete Novel DVD) because those fans asked him to.
Fans. I receive letters from every state, from dozens of foreign countries. From twelve-year-olds and forty-year-olds. From convicts and policemen, teachers, social workers, and of course, kids. Kids who are living lives like those in The Outsiders. Kids who can’t imagine living lives like those in The Outsiders. Kids who read all the time. Ones who never before finished a book.
The letters saying “I loved the book” are good, the ones that say “I never liked to read before, and now I read all the time” are better, but the ones that say “The Outsiders changed my life” and “I read it fifteen years ago and I realize how much it has influenced my life choices” frankly scare me. Who am I to change anyone’s life? I guess the best reply is “It’s the book, not the author” and “It’s the message, not the messenger.” A lot of the time I feel that The Outsiders was meant to be written, and I was chosen to write it. It’s certainly done more good than anything I could accomplish on a personal level.
If this sounds like I am overwhelmed by the decades of incredible response to what began as a short story I started when I was fifteen years old, well, I guess that’s the truth.
S. E. HINTON
An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
BOOKS BY S. E. HINTON
Big David, Little David
The Puppy Sister
Some of Tim’s Stories
That Was Then, This Is Now
Table of Contents
WHEN I STEPPED out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman—he looks tough and I don’t—but I guess my own looks aren’t so bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes. I wish they were more gray, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content with what I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and long at the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair.
I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyway, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it’s kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I’m different that way. I mean, my second-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture, so I’m not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do. For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it.
Soda tries to understand, at least, which is more than Darry does. But then, Soda is different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he’s never hollering at me all the time the way Darry is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I love Soda more than I’ve ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad. He’s always happy-go-lucky and grinning, while Darry’s hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Darry’s gone through a lot in his twenty years, grown up too fast. Sodapop’ll never grow up at all. I don’t know which way’s the best. I’ll find out one of these days.
Anyway, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie, and then suddenly wishing I had some company. Greasers can’t walk alone too much or they’ll get jumped, or someone will come by and scream “Greaser!” at them, which doesn’t make you feel too hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I’m not sure how you spell it, but it’s the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It’s like the term “greaser,” which is used to class all us boys on the East Side.
We’re poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we’re wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and hold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while. I don’t mean I do things like that. Darry would kill me if I got into trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay together only as long as we behave. So Soda and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we’re careful not to get caught when we can’t. I only mean that most greasers do things like that, just like we wear our hair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leather jackets and tennis shoes or boots. I’m not saying that either Socs or greasers are better; that’s just the way things are.
I could have waited to go to the movies until Darry or Sodapop got off work. They would have gone with me, or driven me there, or walked along, although Soda just can’t sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Darry to death. Darry thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people’s. Or I could have gotten one of the gang to come along, one of the four boys Darry and Soda and I have grown up with and consider family. We’re almost as close as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhood like ours you get to know each other real well. If I had thought about it, I could have called Darry and he would have come by on his way home and picked me up, or Two-Bit Mathews—one of our gang—would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him, but sometimes I just don’t use my head. It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, ’cause I’m supposed to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ and everything, but I don’t use my head. Besides, I like walking.
I about decided I didn’t like it so much, though, when I spotted that red Corvair trailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started walking a little faster. I had never been jumped, but I had seen Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and it wasn’t pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. Johnny was sixteen then.
I knew it wasn’t any use though—the fast walking, I mean—even before the Corvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared—I’m kind of small for fourteen even though I have a good build, and those guys were bigger than me. I automatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could get away if I made a break for it. I remembered Johnny—his face all cut up and bruised, and I remembered how he had cried when we found him, half-conscious, in the corner lot. Johnny had it awful rough at home—it took a lot to make him cry.
I was sweating something fierce, although I was cold. I could feel my palms getting clammy and the perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I’m real scared. I glanced around for a pop bottle or a stick or something—Steve Randle, Soda’s best buddy, had once held off four guys with a busted pop bottle—but there was nothing. So I stood there like a bump on a log while they surrounded me. I don’t use my head. They walked around slowly, silently, smiling.
“Hey, grease,” one said in an over-friendly voice. “We’re gonna do you a favor, greaser. We’re gonna cut all that long greasy hair off.”
He had on a madras shirt. I can still see it. Blue madras. One of them laughed, then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn’t think of anything to say. There just isn’t a whole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Need a haircut, greaser?” The medium-sized blond pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped the blade open.
I finally thought of something to say. “No.” I was backing up, away from that knife. Of course I backed right into one of them. They had me down in a second. They had my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his knees on my elbows, and if you don’t think that hurts, you’re crazy. I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything. I was scared so bad I was wishing I would. I fought to get loose, and almost did for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chest slugged me a couple of times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade was held against my throat.
“How’d you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?”
It occurred to me then that they could kill me. I went wild. I started screaming for Soda, Darry, anyone. Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as I could, tasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and got slugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth. One of them kept saying, “Shut him up, for Pete’s sake, shut him up!”
Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet, and the Socs jumped up and left me lying there, gasping. I lay there and wondered what in the world was happening—people were jumping over me and running by me and I was too dazed to figure it out. Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry.
“Are you all right, Ponyboy?”
He was shaking me and I wished he’d stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I could tell it was Darry though—partly because of the voice and partly because Darry’s always rough with me without meaning to be.
“I’m okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I’m okay.”
He stopped instantly. “I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t really. Darry isn’t ever sorry for anything he does. It seems funny to me that he should look just exactly like my father and act exactly the opposite from him. My father was only forty when he died and he looked twenty-five and a lot of people thought Darry and Dad were brothers instead of father and son. But they only looked alike—my father was never rough with anyone without meaning to be.
Darry is six-feet-two, and broad-shouldered and muscular. He has dark-brown hair that kicks out in front and a slight cowlick in the back—just like Dad’s—but Darry’s eyes are his own. He’s got eyes that are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice. They’ve got a determined set to them, like the rest of him. He looks older than twenty—tough, cool, and smart. He would be real handsome if his eyes weren’t so cold. He doesn’t understand anything that is not plain hard fact. But he uses his head.
I sat down again, rubbing my cheek where I’d been slugged the most.
Darry jammed his fists in his pockets. “They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”
They did. I was smarting and aching and my chest was sore and I was so nervous my hands were shaking and I wanted to start bawling, but you just don’t say that to Darry.
Sodapop came loping back. By then I had figured that all the noise I had heard was the gang coming to rescue me. He dropped down beside me, examining my head.
“You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?”
I only looked at him blankly. “I did?”
He pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end of it with his tongue, and pressed it gently against the side of my head. “You’re bleedin’ like a stuck pig.”
“Look!” He showed me the handkerchief, reddened as if by magic. “Did they pull a blade on you?”
I remembered the voice: “Need a haircut, greaser?” The blade must have slipped while he was trying to shut me up. “Yeah.”
Soda is handsomer than anyone else I know. Not like Darry—Soda’s movie-star kind of handsome, the kind that people stop on the street to watch go by. He’s not as tall as Darry, and he’s a little slimmer, but he has a finely drawn, sensitive face that somehow manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. He’s got dark-gold hair that he combs back—long and silky and straight—and in the summer the sun bleaches it to a shining wheat-gold. His eyes are dark brown—lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He has Dad’s eyes, but Soda is one of a kind. He can get drunk in a drag race or dancing without ever getting near alcohol. In our neighborhood it’s rare to find a kid who doesn’t drink once in a while. But Soda never touches a drop—he doesn’t need to. He gets drunk on just plain living. And he understands everybody.
He looked at me more closely. I looked away hurriedly, because, if you want to know the truth, I was starting to bawl. I knew I was as white as I felt and I was shaking like a leaf.
Soda just put his hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Ponyboy. They ain’t gonna hurt you no more.”
“I know,” I said, but the ground began to blur and I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I brushed them away impatiently. “I’m just a little spooked, that’s all.” I drew a quivering breath and quit crying. You just don’t cry in front of Darry. Not unless you’re hurt like Johnny had been that day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Johnny I wasn’t hurt at all.
Soda rubbed my hair. “You’re an okay kid, Pony.”
I had to grin at him—Soda can make you grin no matter what. I guess it’s because he’s always grinning so much himself. “You’re crazy, Soda, out of your mind.”
Darry looked as if he’d like to knock our heads together. “You’re both nuts.”
Soda merely cocked one eyebrow, a trick he’d picked up from Two-Bit. “It seems to run in this family.”
Darry stared at him for a second, then cracked a grin. Sodapop isn’t afraid of him like everyone else and enjoys teasing him. I’d just as soon tease a full-grown grizzly; but for some reason, Darry seems to like being teased by Soda.
Our gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They came running toward us now—four lean, hard guys. They were all as tough as nails and looked it. I had grown up with them, and they accepted me, even though I was younger, because I was Darry and Soda’s kid brother and I kept my mouth shut good.
Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with thick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated swirls. He was cocky, smart, and Soda’s best buddy since grade school. Steve’s specialty was cars. He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside-down and backward, and he could drive anything on wheels. He and Soda worked at the same gas station—Steve part time and Soda full time—and their station got more customers than any other in town. Whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because Soda attracted girls like honey draws flies, I couldn’t tell you. I liked Steve only because he was Soda’s best friend. He didn’t like me—he thought I was a tagalong and a kid; Soda always took me with them when they went places if they weren’t taking girls, and that bugged Steve. It wasn’t my fault; Soda always asked me, I didn’t ask him. Soda doesn’t think I’m a kid.
Two-Bit Mathews was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch. He was about six feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his long rusty-colored sideburns. He had gray eyes and a wide grin, and he couldn’t stop making funny remarks to save his life. You couldn’t shut up that guy; he always had to get his two-bits worth in. Hence his name. Even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith, and we hardly remembered he had one. Life was one big joke to Two-Bit. He was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade (which he couldn’t have acquired without his first talent), and he was always smarting off to the cops. He really couldn’t help it. Everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dull lives. (That’s the way he explained it to me.) He liked fights, blondes, and for some unfathomable reason, school. He was still a junior at eighteen and a half and he never learned anything. He just went for kicks. I liked him real well because he kept us laughing at ourselves as well as at other things. He reminded me of Will Rogers—maybe it was the grin.
If I had to pick the real character of the gang, it would be Dallas Winston—Dally. I used to like to draw his picture when he was in a dangerous mood, for then I could get his personality down in a few lines. He had an elfish face, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, small, sharp animal teeth, and ears like a lynx. His hair was almost white it was so blond, and he didn’t like haircuts, or hair oil either, so it fell over his forehead in wisps and kicked out in the back in tufts and curled behind his ears and along the nape of his neck. His eyes were blue, blazing ice, cold with a hatred of the whole world. Dally had spent three years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age of ten. He was tougher than the rest of us—tougher, colder, meaner. The shade of difference that separates a greaser from a hood wasn’t present in Dally. He was as wild as the boys in the downtown outfits, like Tim Shepard’s gang.
In New York, Dally blew off steam in gang fights, but here, organized gangs are rarities—there are just small bunches of friends who stick together, and the warfare is between the social classes. A rumble, when it’s called, is usually born of a grudge fight, and the opponents just happen to bring their friends along. Oh, there are a few named gangs around, like the River Kings and the Tiber Street Tigers, but here in the Southwest there’s no gang rivalry. So Dally, even though he could get into a good fight sometimes, had no specific thing to hate. No rival gang. Only Socs. And you can’t win against them no matter how hard you try, because they’ve got all the breaks and even whipping them isn’t going to change that fact. Maybe that was why Dallas was so bitter.
He had quite a reputation. They have a file on him down at the police station. He had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, jumped small kids—he did everything. I didn’t like him, but he was smart and you had to respect him.
Johnny Cade was last and least. If you can picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you’ll have Johnny. He was the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He had big black eyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long that it fell in shaggy bangs across his forehead. He had a nervous, suspicious look in his eyes, and that beating he got from the Socs didn’t help matters. He was the gang’s pet, everyone’s kid brother. His father was always beating him up, and his mother ignored him, except when she was hacked off at something, and then you could hear her yelling at him clear down at our house. I think he hated that worse than getting whipped. He would have run away a million times if we hadn’t been there. If it hadn’t been for the gang, Johnny would never have known what love and affection are.
I wiped my eyes hurriedly. “Didya catch ’em?”
“Nup. They got away this time, the dirty . . .” Two-Bit went on cheerfully, calling the Socs every name he could think of or make up.
“The kid’s okay?”
“I’m okay.” I tried to think of something to say. I’m usually pretty quiet around people, even the gang. I changed the subject. “I didn’t know you were out of the cooler yet, Dally.”
“Good behavior. Got off early.” Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Johnny. Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. I had quit trembling and my color was back. The cigarette was calming me down. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. “Nice-lookin’ bruise you got there, kid.”
I touched my cheek gingerly. “Really?”
Two-Bit nodded sagely. “Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough.”
Tough and tuff are two different words. Tough is the same as rough; tuff means cool, sharp—like a tuff-looking Mustang or a tuff record. In our neighborhood both are compliments.
Steve flicked his ashes at me. “What were you doin’, walkin’ by your lonesome?” Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that.
“I was comin’ home from the movies. I didn’t think . . .”
“You don’t ever think,” Darry broke in, “not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you’ve always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade.”
I just stared at the hole in the toe of my tennis shoe. Me and Darry just didn’t dig each other. I never could please him. He would have hollered at me for carrying a blade if I had carried one. If I brought home B’s, he wanted A’s, and if I got A’s, he wanted to make sure they stayed A’s. If I was playing football, I should be in studying, and if I was reading, I should be out playing football. He never hollered at Sodapop—not even when Soda dropped out of school or got tickets for speeding. He just hollered at me.
Soda was glaring at him. “Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain’t his fault he likes to go to the movies, and it ain’t his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons.”
Soda always takes up for me.
Darry said impatiently, “When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I’ll ask you—kid brother.” But he laid off me. He always does when Sodapop tells him to. Most of the time.
“Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy,” Two-Bit said. “Any of us will.”
“Speakin’ of movies”—Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt—“I’m walkin’ over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?”
Steve shook his head. “Me and Soda are pickin’ up Evie and Sandy for the game.”
He didn’t need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn’t going to ask if I could come. I’d never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can’t stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him.
Darry sighed, just like I knew he would. Darry never had time to do anything anymore. “I’m working tomorrow night.”
Dally looked at the rest of us. “How about y’all? Two-Bit? Johnnycake, you and Pony wanta come?”
“Me and Johnny’ll come,” I said. I knew Johnny wouldn’t open his mouth unless he was forced to. “Okay, Darry?”
“Yeah, since it ain’t a school night.” Darry was real good about letting me go places on the weekends. On school nights I could hardly leave the house.
“I was plannin’ on getting boozed up tomorrow night,” Two-Bit said. “If I don’t, I’ll walk over and find y’all.”
Steve was looking at Dally’s hand. His ring, which he had rolled a drunk senior to get, was back on his finger. “You break up with Sylvia again?”
“Yeah, and this time it’s for good. That little broad was two-timin’ me again while I was in jail.”
I thought of Sylvia and Evie and Sandy and Two-Bit’s many blondes. They were the only kind of girls that would look at us, I thought. Tough, loud girls who wore too much eye makeup and giggled and swore too much. I liked Soda’s girl Sandy just fine, though. Her hair was natural blond and her laugh was soft, like her china-blue eyes. She didn’t have a real good home or anything and was our kind—greaser—but she was a real nice girl. Still, lots of times I wondered what other girls were like. The girls who were bright-eyed and had their dresses a decent length and acted as if they’d like to spit on us if given a chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dallas Winston, I didn’t blame them. But most looked at us like we were dirt—gave us the same kind of look that the Socs did when they came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled “Grease!” at us. I wondered about them. The girls, I mean . . . Did they cry when their boys were arrested, like Evie did when Steve got hauled in, or did they run out on them the way Sylvia did Dallas? But maybe their boys didn’t get arrested or beaten up or busted up in rodeos.
I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had to read Great Expectations for English, and that kid Pip, he reminded me of us—the way he felt marked lousy because he wasn’t a gentleman or anything, and the way that girl kept looking down on him. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect a worm, and the razor wouldn’t cut, so I used my switchblade. The minute I flicked it out—I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it—this girl right beside me kind of gasped, and said, “They are right. You are a hood.” That didn’t make me feel so hot. There were a lot of Socs in that class—I get put into A classes because I’m supposed to be smart—and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn’t, though. She was a cute girl. She looked real good in yellow.
S E Hinton: Cold and Christmasy.
S E Hinton: I think I was a writer as soon as I learned to read. It is never too early to start practicing because all writing is just practice to get better. 2) I don't like to write until I have something to say. I know that doesn't stop a lot of writers, but it puts a damper on me.
S E Hinton: Thanks for the support, Scott.
S E Hinton: I don't really know. I think it is an age when you would like to have an unusual name. It helps establish identity.
S E Hinton: Most of my settings were inspired by my life in Tulsa, Oklahoma. It's urban, but it is easy to find the rural. RUMBLE FISH is different. I was thinking a lot about mythology and purposely made time and place vague. Francis Coppola enlarged on this by telling the "Rumble Fish" cast it was set two years in the future!
S E Hinton: I like a first-person narrative because it gives you the structure of staying in character. And also it is emotionally involving. Why my alter ego is a 15-year-old boy, I don't know.
S E Hinton: 1) I get the same kind of letters that I got 30 years ago; kids still identify with the emotions and problems. It's still good to see that someone else feels that way. 2) No. I can remember what it is like to be 16, but I am not 16.
S E Hinton: I wrote THAT WAS THEN in approximately four months, two pages a day. I had writer's block for four years after THE OUTSIDERS. That was the way I got over it.
S E Hinton: Three things inspired me: 1) I love to write. I had been writing since grade school. 2) I was mad about the social situation in my high school, where everyone got in their little group and was afraid of the other groups. 3) I wanted something to read! At that time, there wasn't any realistic fiction about teenagers. I wanted to read something that dealt with what I saw kids really doing.
S E Hinton: I was a tomboy and most of my close friends were boys. Female society was very rigid at the time, and I felt that if I said a girl was doing this, nobody would believe it. Basically, I find it easy to write from a male point of view. I always take the easy way. I have written a book, THE PUPPY SISTER, which is told from a female puppy's point of view. In one book I changed gender, genre, and species!
S E Hinton: It was based on the true story of how I brought a puppy home to be a sibling for my son, an only child. They fought a lot, like real siblings. One day, Nick, my son, said, "I think Aleasha is wondering when she is going to turn into a real kid like me." That was my inspiration. P.S. Aleasha really did turn herself into a member of the family.
S E Hinton: The first line was always the same. The circular nature was not original with me, but when I got to the end of the book it seemed the right way to end it. The first draft was very much like the published edition.
S E Hinton: Joel, thanks very much for the invitation, but I can't make it. Break a leg!
S E Hinton: THE OUTSIDERS has been banned at different times and at different places. Teachers tell me that when a parent complains, they ask them to read the book themselves. Afterwards, there are no complaints. I have had a lot of kids write me and say that "after reading your books I realize how stupid violence is." I never have anyone write and say they were inspired to go and beat somebody up.
S E Hinton: I hear from some of the actors once in a while. I was very good friends with all of them. I feel that I should thank them. Not only were they very good actors, they were good kids. And a pleasure to work with. And while I would like to see any of them again, who I really miss are my brave goofy teens, and I will never see them again.
S E Hinton: I worked on the three movies that Matt was in. I recommended him to Francis Coppola for Dallas, but he would not have been cast if Francis hadn't felt he was right for the role. I think Matt did a great job of seperating each character that he played. Nobody would mistake Tex for Rusty James.
S E Hinton: Rob was sweet and incredibly good-looking. Books and movies are two different things. The fun thing about movies is the collaboration. The fun thing about books is you rule the world.
S E Hinton: I was no straight-A student. If I liked something I did well, if not, not. Basically, a goof-off, I guess. I had mostly great English teachers, who were very encouraging. The year I wrote THE OUTSIDERS I made a D in creative writing. I found out something interesting: Publishers don't count off for spelling and neatness.
S E Hinton: That is an old photo. The Keeshond was named Bowser, the poodle Mop, the pug, Pug. My creativity ends in my books! All dogs go to heaven. I now have an Aussie shepherd, who is the heroine of my latest book, THE PUPPY SISTER. Also, two cats, and three horses.
S E Hinton: I began THE OUTSIDERS in 1964 and did most of the work in 1965. It was sold in 1966 and published the next year. Fast!
S E Hinton: I don't know, you need to ask a studio! (I have a screenplay.)
S E Hinton: WRITER'S MARKET, a book, and Writer's Digest, a magazine, have a lot of practical tips on getting published. Good Luck!
S E Hinton: Actually, the initials were my publisher's idea. They didn't want the first reviewers to read it with a bias. Afterwards it wasn't any big secret. (The reviewers were fooled.) I know I am convincing as a male narrator because I still get letters from boys addressed to Mr. Hinton.
S E Hinton: I loved horse books. I read Will James, the cowboy books, a lot. Some of my favorites: Shirley Jackson, Mary Renault, are still on my top five. Nowadays, I love Jane Austen (and did before she was cool), Fitzgerald, and I read alot of nonfiction.
S E Hinton: I think both "Tex" and "Rumble Fish," in their very different ways, capture the spirit of each book. I was disappointed in the editing of "The Outsiders," because we shot the whole book. We will never put that cast together, again! And I expected that Hollywood couldn't take the strong ending of "That Was Then." However, it had some good parts in it.
S E Hinton: TEX is my favorite. I really have to become my narrator, and Tex was a good person to be. He is the least tough, but strongest of my narrators. It was nice to have that generous heart.
S E Hinton: Besides being a writer, I'm a wife, a mom, a friend, a pretty good horseback rider. To use the phrase, "I've got a life." I really just like to write when I feel I have something to say.
S E Hinton: You might try Gary Paulsen. He does really good nature books, but suspenseful.
S E Hinton: 1) I have written five young-adult novels, one picture book, and a middle grade book. I've worked on six screenplays, and one TV series, and a couple of commercials. 2) I was 18 when THE OUTSIDERS was published. 3) Yes. I think drugs and gangs are a bigger problem. Being a teen is problem enough.
S E Hinton: Nick is not too impressed with his old mom. He had to read THE OUTSIDERS in English class, last year. His comment to me was "It's not bad, Mom, but you're no Tolkien."
S E Hinton: Not so much a rebel as perceptive. I always seemed to see why people were doing things as well as what they were doing. I've always been a watcher. Still, a lot of times, what people do seems silly to me.
S E Hinton: I was very focused when I was young. I have more interests now, but I feel writing about what I did at the time I did gives (especially THE OUTSIDERS) my work its immediacy.
S E Hinton: Not really. As far as the groups go, the names change, the uniforms change, the groups go on forever.
S E Hinton: I am very happy I wrote THE OUTSIDERS. A lot of kids who thought they didn't like to read learned that they did like to read. I'd never change that. THE OUTSIDERS wasn't an overnight success; it built slowly over the years. I can still live a private life.
S E Hinton: Thanks for all your great questions. To those of you who want to write, read read read! And the rest of you, the same.
Posted May 31, 2009
I Also Recommend:
This book is amazing. I had to read it for school and to tell you the truth at first I thought the book sucked. A total bore! But then I got more into it and started to realize how interesting the story actually was. Its a great book, definetly worth reading!
133 out of 147 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
I know I am going to write a long review so I will give my first impression off the bat: THIS BOOK IS WONDERFUL! READ IT!
I first picked up this book last summer because I thought I had to read it for my school's summer reading list. In the car on the way home from the library, I did what I always do with new books: read the back cover. I honestly didn't think I'd like this book because I really had no idea what it was about, but after reading the back cover, I was immediatley interested in what I read and started reading it right there in the back seat. From there, I don't believe I went anywhere without the OUTSIDERS by my side. In and out of school, I raved to my friends about this book. Although a few of them didn't really listen (matt), one girl told me about S.E.Hintons other books. I was also extremelly excited to see the play a local high school did, see the movie, and do a book report on the OUTSIDERS.
I found characters very well developed and abosulutely wonderful for the imagination. Ponyboy is really one of the better characters I have read about; someone we could all look up to: the gentelman in a tough situation. And someone I can really relate to as a teenager and a lover of books and movies. The names of the characters were creative and I throughly enjoyed the descriptions of the characters and their various situations. The OUTSIDERS gives a new look on a subject that is often looked upon with much scorn and violence.
But what I might have enjoyed most about this book is the absolute innocence of it. If you are looking for a book a 10 year old (or younger) could read, this is definitly a mature book without all the througly annoying nonsense of the teen books. Being 14, I, unfortunately have tried many times to find a book without language or sex in the teen section and have failed sadly (although I have been very happily succesful in the Christian Fiction section!). The OUTSIDERS can be found in the teen section but contain none of the atrosities mentioned that effect the teen and adult books of today. This book does have a fair bit of violence but it is a book about gangs and we are not talking about a book where elves go on a picnic and get neither ants nor rain.
If anyone asked me to give my opinion on this book over lunch I could probably say a heck of a lot more and give away the story entirelly. But I won't. My final answer if you are deciding on reading this book or not, the answer is clearly YES without a doubt.
86 out of 98 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 12, 2009
This book is really great! It has very believable, dimensional characters. The writer makes the characters seem real by giving them problems, and putting them in situations that they have to face their problems head on in a split second. They are faced with very real problems, and some not-so-real ones. The story takes place in a very common setting, where there are two social groups that collide day in and day out. The characters' problems co-relate with their setting to make things even more realistic. I would definitely reread this book just for fun! It is a good read for all ages!
45 out of 53 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 24, 2009
I Also Recommend:
This is the book I owe the world too! It's the book that really got me into reading and opened many doors for me. The story is about the tension between two groups (the rich kids known as the Socs and the poor kids known as Greasers). One day things are taken a bit to far which leads to a few problems for the Greasers.
This is a book about friendship, family, and the struggles that sometimes need to be made to make it in the world.
41 out of 46 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 20, 2009
Posted August 11, 2009
Timeless story written by 16-yr-old SE Hinton. Any teenager will be able to relate, especially boys. While not a difficult book to read, it is a great example of author voice, and an example of what a young person can accomplish. Should be on your 'Must Read' list...you won't be sorry!
27 out of 31 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton is a book the author wrote while she was still in high school and it is loosely based on her own life. The story takes place in a small, rural town in the 1960s. The two main groups in this story are the "socs" and the "greasers." The socs are wealthy high school students that do bad things and get away with them. The greasers are poor, less educated and tough.
The Outsiders is a story of rebellion, youth, and heroism. It focuses on an endless, senseless conflict between two groups of young people and the problems that result. Its main character, Ponyboy, watches his world slowly fall apart as the battle between the groups rages around him. The use of a first-person narrator gives the reader a sense of belonging to the greasers, encouraging sympathy for their struggle. Ponyboy is a strong, sensitive, intelligent young person who cares very deeply about his friends and brothers. He often faces danger, and what he wants most is a sense of security and stability. Instead, events spiral towards an inevitable tragedy, and Ponyboy must accept his own powerlessness. The Greasers are young men who refuse to accept the subordinate position that society has given them. The Socs mock the Greasers and the adults in town overlook them: rather than accept their status and live in peace with the wealthier citizens of town, the Greasers seek respect and rebellion. They are proud, strong-willed people who know they deserve better. The result is a life of constant conflict and ever-present danger. At the end of The Outsiders, Pony is transformed from greaser into a writer. He learns to express his resentment and anger through more creative means, no longer resorting to violence. He is able to share his story with an authority figure, his English teacher, who does not belong to his crowd. The universal message of The Outsiders is that peace can come through understanding, communication, and a willingness to move beyond violence to resolve conflicts.
This is a timeless story that was written from a teen's perspective. It is well written and enjoyable. It is required reading for most children in school yet most like the story and see a parallel of this story in today's times.
23 out of 24 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 10, 2009
Great book!! I read it in class and if i hadnt i would have missed out on alot. I couldnt put it down. The realism of it is incredible. I highly recomend is for a project or just for fun!
16 out of 18 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 29, 2009
S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders had to be one of the most moving teen reads ever written. This book can be read 100 times, and you'll still cry at parts and smile at other parts, even when you know what is going to happen.
My good friend had first told me about this book and she started explaining how much she loved it and how it was about gangs, and I did a double take. At the moment, I thought she was crazy for obsessing over a book about gangs. Now, I see why she loves it so much.
No one would ever think a book about Greasers and Socs would ever be this incredible. But it is, and the fact that Hinton had started writing this at the age of fifteen is amazing.
Incredible author and an incredible heart warming book that will live on forever.
14 out of 14 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
I had heard of The Outsiders before, and finally decided to read it on my own. I was absolutely stunned by how much it affected me. It is honestly the best book I have ever read, and this is coming from a die-hard Harry Potter fan. If you are going to read this, however, I would recommend reading the end in a private place, considering I literally sobbed for about twenty minutes, something no book has ever made me do. It's amazing!
13 out of 15 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
THIS BOOK WAS AWESOME!!!! I LOVED THE CHARACTERS AND HOW U CAN'T REALLY TELL WATS GOING 2 HAPPEN IN THE BEGINNING. IT IS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE BOOK!!!!
9 out of 11 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 12, 2013
Posted November 3, 2012
Ponyboy Curtis, the main character in The Outsiders, lives with his older brothers, Darrel (Darry) and Sodapop. Pony and his friends (Darry, Soda, Johnny, Dally, Two-Bit, and Steve) are 'greasers'. Greasers are like hoods who have a rough relationship with the 'Socs'. Socs are the rich kids who like to jump greasers for fun, and once in a while greasers and Socs get into a rumble. But one night, while Pony and Johnny are at the park, things go too far and Pony and Johnny must run away... Lots of way more exciting things happen after that and the book only gets better. Only that I dont want to spoil all the fun! Im sorry if you wanted to know more...
**By the way: The second you are done reading the last paragraph in the book, READ THE FIRST PARAGRAPH IN CHAPTER 1. Trust me. ;)
REVIEW: I promise you that you will enjoy reading every single word in the book (I know I did)! This is one of my TOP FAVORITES BOOKS and always will be! BUY THIS BOOK!!! You wont regret it. Five stars.
8 out of 9 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 1, 2009
I thought this was a great book because it could be any time period by just changing the gangs names. My daughter had to read it for seventh grade, she also has is dyslexic so I read it in order be able to help her if necessary. But I enjoyed the plot and twists of the story. So it is a good read and I would say take the time to read it.
8 out of 9 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 29, 2012
By: S.E. Hinton
The Outsiders is a book about two social groups that go back and forth about who is better. The main characters are Ponyboy, Johnny, Dally, Sodapop, Two-bit, and Darry. Other characters are Cherry, Randy, Marcia, Steve, and Bob. The story takes place in Oklahoma. One group is the “greasers.” They are the poor east-side kids. The “Socs” are the west-side rich kids. The characters, Ponyboy and Johnny, get themselves caught up in running away, a murder, and a church fire. They find a little help on the way from Dally Winston. Ponyboy and his oldest brother, Darry, have problems of their own as well. I think that one of the themes for this book is family. The whole gang is like one big family. They stick together no matter what. When someone is in trouble, they are all there to help. I think that the other theme for the story is don’t judge a person unless you know their story. It’s important to understand a person before you form an opinion of them.
I think that The Outsiders is a great book and I enjoyed reading it. I recommend it to everyone who loves a good, suspenseful book. I think Hinton developed her characters very well. Teenagers can really relate to all the social class drama. She definitely reached her target audience. The whole idea for the story, in my opinion, was executed very nicely. I think that everyone should read The Outsiders. I give the book two thumbs up!
7 out of 8 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 23, 2012
Posted May 16, 2012
Posted December 15, 2010
The reason why I choose book is because I really recommend everyone to read this book. The reason why I say that is because this book can make you get really excited and make you not wanting to stop reading the book. Then characters in the story make the book live because actions gets better and better. The author writing makes the story very thrilling and all the action in it grasp my attention really fast when I first looked at the book I thought I was going to be disappointed but when I started to reading I told myself that was a lie but I was very surprise on how amazingly this book was. And after I read this book I recommended story.all my friends to read it and they told me no this book is going to be lame and I told them they need to try it out and they did. After one of my friends read the book he told me dude I don't like reading but this book is the best book I have ever read. But my friend told my other friend then he thought it was going to be corny but when he read it he was surprised. But out of the whole book my favorite part of the book is the part when the greaser and sacs fight that part has allot of action in it that part gets you really attracted me to the story and when I got to that part I didn't put the book down. So it was great telling you about my opinion and I really recommend you to read this
7 out of 7 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 1, 2010
I read this book last year in 7th grade and i LOVE this book i read it like 5 times since them and it never gets old!! YOU HAVE TO READ IT!!! but if your to lazy to read it then watch the movie i LOVE the movie to! and maybe you will change your mind and read it...yup thats all i have to say
7 out of 9 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 29, 2012
This book is a novel based on the 1960's about 2 groups in Oklahoma. There were the greasers, hoods who lived on the bad side of town, and then there were the Socs. Rich kids who greasers thought had it made. The narrator, Ponyboy, a 14 year old kid who is part of a greaser gang, lives with his 2 older brothers because his parents died in a car crash. One night, when Ponyboy and his friend, Johnny, get jumped by some Socs, everything goes wrong. The 2 boys have to run away before they get caught. So they ask their tough friend, Dallas Winston, to help them get out of town. Dally gives them some money, a gun, and a plan to help them escape. Then Ponyboy and Johnny hop on a train to the country. There the find an abandoned church. They think everything will be fine then. Well of course they are wrong. When Dally arrives to see how the boys are doing, they go to Dairy Queen. When they return to the church they’re staying in, it’s on fire. To make matters worse, some kids were trapped inside of it because a school was having a picnic around the lot. Ponyboy goes running off into the church to save the kids. Johnny follows after him. After they get most of the kids out, Ponyboy starts to come out. But before Johnny can, the church collapses on him. Both boys are rushed to the hospital right away. What happens next? It’s not my job to tell you!
I really enjoyed this book because it made you fall in love with the characters. With each chapter you got to know something more about them and more complex. S. E. Hinton did a wonderful job slowly unraveling the plot. I know this is a story a bunch of people can relate to, whether they’ve been judged, have a bad home, or have had trouble with not knowing what to do. This story shows us that we all are in common and no one is better than another person.
6 out of 8 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.