Nikki Grimes raised some serious questions in general about why no African American has won the Caldecott and specifically how Kadir Nelson could possible have been overlooked for We Are the Ship (one of the most powerful books in generations for any age.) I strongly concur with her conclusions.
Tasha recounts a run-in with a Little Brown rep at ALA that reinforces how messed up and confused pubs are when it comes to the lit blogosphere. The pubs that have a single person assigned to online marketing - someone who actually reads lit/book blogs for pleasure and thus has a clue about where things are happening and where they aren't - are much much easier to deal with for then those who can't tell one blog from the next. I think publishers are just spoiled to a certain degree - they are not used to having to figure all this stuff out (think about it - the review markets have been solidly set in print publications for decades if not centuries). Looking over my records I realized that I have not received a single book from Little Brown this year. Maybe 2010 will be better.
All the dramarama about boys reading books with female protagonists makes me think that we are just looking for things to argue about. First, anyone who suggests a boy should be able to pick up a book regardless of its female-centric cover has clearly never been to high school in the United States of America where judgment on every aspect of you life is the order of the day. Second, boys will read female protagonists who are interesting (I think Philip Pullman proved that) but they have no patience for a book where the girl moons about for chapters on end wondering if the boy likes her, if her friends like her, if anyone will ever like her again and if she should care. Do I exaggerate? Yes. But your average female teen protag is pretty damn moody (hello Twilight) and boys like more action. Give us a book with an active story centered around a girl and absent a girly cover and I think boys would read it just fine. Asking them to care otherwise or dismissing their opinion as misguided threats to masculinity for not being interested in Maureen Johnson's latest is just silly. (And if you think I'm wrong then ask the man nearest you right now the last time he read a Nora Roberts novel. I'm thinking it's been awhile....)
If a boy wants to read Maureen Johnson then fine. If he doesn't then let him go read something else. And as someone who reads a crazy - CRAZY - amount of YA every year then let me assure you there are way more books out there with female protagonists then male. And that's wrong, and it needs to change, period.
Am I cranky today or what?
I find the more I get into research I'm enjoying, the more I'm actively thinking about what I want to write, the less I feel inclined to care about anything else. And also, when I read something like the excerpt of Haleh Esfandiari's upcoming book My Prison, My Home in the current Vogue (not online I'm afraid), then I just get prickly about everything. Part of this might be due to finishing Dreaming of Baghdad over the weekend which immersed me in torture, prison and survivor's guilt in the most poetic manner imaginable. (It is - shockingly - about Saddam Hussein's original rise to power in the early 1970s; my review will follow in Booklist.) I am always struck after reading topics like these (and hearing about the death of someone like Natalya Estemirova) how small most of our battles online truly are. Not that we all can't vent about something (or anything) and not that the topics I responded to above are small. They are life and you have to talk about these things. But all too often we talk about nothing I think - about why cheap bookshelves are no big deal or that unless you can prove your street poverty cred with some kind of Palinesque folksiness (that somehow manages to diss Sarah Palin in the process) or an actual living pitbull in your house (????) then you are elite and don't know how it is for the "REAL" people. These things drive me crazy in a million little ways. So I go back to 1890 and wonder who Julia Pressl's father really was or why her mother lied or why they never talked about the death of the man who adopted Julia and raised her as his own. Why do families hide everything - still?
These are things I'm thinking about lately. If nothing else, I can easily prove my poverty background from these stories. Unfortunately my husband built our bookshelves which I think now makes us elitest. My dog is a mutt from the humane society though - that ought to count for something.


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July 20
2009
02:33 AM
Nice post, Colleen. It's a great catch-up one.
A husband who builds bookcases makes you elitist? I think it makes you lucky!