Eight-Year-Old Alec Greven Shares How to Talk to Girls

One of my favorite albums, Michael Martin Murphey’s River of Time, includes the song Talkin’ to the Wrong Man, in which a father and son have a heart-to-heart talk and each confesses how hard it is to understand the opposite sex: “You’re talkin’ to the wrong men if you wanna know what girls are all about. / You’re talkin’ to the wrong men; still ain’t got them women figured out.” Maybe both of them could use a chat with Alec Greven, the precocious author of How to Talk to Girls. Greven was only eight years old when he penned this handy-dandy guide to an age-old conundrum, but he seems to have a pretty good handle on the situation.

This book began as a class project. Greven turned it in, and his teacher passed it around the teacher’s lounge; one thing led to another, and the book was published, first on a small scale, then nationally. After appearances on CNN and The Ellen DeGeneres Show, the young relationship guru was on his way to being a national sensation. He has since published four other books: How to Talk to Moms, How to Talk to Dads, How to Talk to Santa and Rules for School. Not bad for a kid who hasn’t even hit his teens yet.

In How to Talk to Girls, Greven compiles a list of simple tips for approaching and interacting with girls, and while this is clearly aimed at his peers, most of his advice isn’t bad for guys of any age. He is up-front about his limited perspective, offering the endearing disclaimer that his “statistics” are based on his observations at his own school and “aren’t worldwide. I would have to do a lot more research for that.” Aside from a one-page introduction and acknowledgments, the book includes seven chapters, each four pages long, with two pages set aside for the new chapter. Sometimes the illustration for the chapter heading stretches across two pages, while at other times it simply faces a blank page. This square, slightly larger-than-average gift book includes quite a bit of white space.

Greven writes with an amusing self-assurance, though he does sometimes admit to cluelessness on certain fronts. Perfectly complementing his no-nonsense tips are whimsical, cartoonish black-and-white line drawings by Kei Acedera. There’s a cheerful blond-haired boy who seems to be representative of Greven, and on each page we see him doing different things to attract the attention of a little blond girl with a wisp of a ponytail and a skirt with a heart on it. Both characters are very cute, as are the other girls pictured throughout the book.

So, what kind of advice could an eight-year-old possibly have to give on a topic that continues to bewilder plenty of adults? Obviously, it’s pretty basic stuff. It’s very easy to make relationships extremely complicated; reading Greven might help a guy, even one well past elementary school, cut out all the clutter. And heck, girls could probably benefit from some of his advice too, and no doubt many can relate to some of his statements, like, “A crush is like a love disease. It can drive you mad.”

Some of his advice seems to have been arrived at by logic: “Go for a talkative girl if you are shy. Then you only have to say one sentence, and she will do the rest of the talking.” Ha! Other advice seems to have the ring of personal observation or even experience: “You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself or she will think you are a crazy madman who doesn’t even know where his own brain is.” He does seem to have a slight prejudice against so-called “pretty” girls – as opposed to “regular” girls. “When you see a pretty girl,” he warns, “don’t let her tractor beam pull you in. Pretty girls are like cars that need a lot of oil.” No high-maintenance relationships for this eight-year-old! And no long-distance relationships, either: “I had a crush on a girl in preschool. Then my family had to move, so I had to let her wash out my mind.” Aww.

Mostly, though, Greven advises guys to be themselves, just slightly modified in order to make the best impression. He suggests sharing interests and showing off special skills but warns against being a braggart. Intelligence is a plus, he says; excessive clowning is likely to be a turn-off. “Hi” is an easy conversation starter, and if you really want to talk to a girl, ask for her phone number (“if your mom lets you call girls”). If she gives it to you, there’s a pretty good chance she likes you. Moms come up a couple times, like when he encourages boys looking to make a good first impression to “try to look kind of clean. Your mom likes you to always be clean, and she is a girl.” Yes, some of it is rather superficial stuff; if a fella’s worth liking, a decent girl won’t be scared off by a dirty shirt. But hey, teachers tend to like tidiness too, so lads looking to impress a classmate could wind up making points with their instructors too.

There’s nothing too deep here, but what did you expect from an eight-year-old? Still, he’s a well-spoken young man, and I can’t help being impressed with his effort. This is a practical, funny book, and along with its intended purpose of building a bridge of communication across the gender gap, it may also inspire budding young authors to try their hands at really writing something. (For instance, maybe some ingenious eight-year-old somewhere is ready to tackle the even more vexing question of how to talk to boys.) If the Murpheys were to read this book, something tells me that they still wouldn’t feel that they had women figured out at the end of it. But maybe, just maybe, they’d feel a little readier to give it another try.