When is a child a child? By Cecilia Busby

There's been some interesting discussions recently about what makes a young person a child, and at what age they cease to be a child (not least here on ABBA, in a previous post by David Thorpe, here). It was sparked off by Lynne Reid Bank's complaint that the Guardian Children's Book Prize had gone to a book aimed at 17 year olds - David Almond's book A Song for Ella Grey. (I have to confess that I have not yet got round to reading this, but it's on the shelf by my bed and I'm thoroughly looking forward to diving into it, as it sounds to be a wonderful, moving and beautifully written book.)

The original letter written by Lynne Reid banks is here, and a selection of letters in response is here. The two authors were subsequently interviewed on Radio 4's Today programme, where they amicably expressed their different points of view on what age A Song for Ella Grey is suitable for.

Responses to Banks's intervention tended to focus on her perhaps unfortunate use of the phrase 'lesbian love, swearing and drinking' as evidence that the book was not suitable for 12 yr olds - for many, it appeared that it was 'lesbian' love she objected to, and there was some concern at the notion that it should be considered any different to any other kind of 'love'. As one of the letters to the Guardian pointed out:

some people not yet 12 experience lesbian desire, and/or swear or drink; and others live with older people who drink, swear, and feel no need to hide their lesbianism

More widely, the argument was made that complex, difficult emotions, relationships, and the darker aspects of life are all inevitably part of children's lives (and arguably always have been), so that to place a 'cordon sanitaire' around books dealing with such issues as 'not for children' would be an absurdity. Thus, Piers Torday, defending the Guardian panel's choice, argued:

There is indeed “lesbian love, swearing and drinking” in the first few pages, and that’s no bad thing. Young people today have to make sense of a complex, diverse world of intersecting, layered narratives, available to them on a permanent loop in just a few clicks. Good writing for children will help them navigate adult experience with awareness and understanding.

Twelve is an age that's on the borderlines. It's the age most children go to secondary school, and start to spend significant parts of their day with older teenagers. They often travel to school on their own, and their parents are a less significant part of their lives. They are experiencing independence and worrying about adulthood and the future. As Torday says, they do have to make sense of a complex, diverse world - and one of the ways some children choose to start exploring it is via fiction. So we need those books - they are important to children of that age; they can be, as both Banks and Almond agreed on R4, life-changing; they help young people to experience other possible lives and important ideas and decide how they feel about them.

But responses also acknowledged that Banks had a point - many children's books prizes are being dominated by books for young adults. Almond's book is aimed mostly at teenagers, it is shelved in the YA section of most bookshops, and the kind of 12 year olds that choose to read it will do so because they know that their reading tastes tend towards enjoying those kind of more complex narratives about identity, relationships, the joy and the pain of love. Shelved and aimed at YA as it is, it is unlikely to be bought by any parent or chosen by any child who is 8 or 9. While Banks was universally seen as a little old-fashioned in seeing the content as unsuitable for 12 yr olds, few people would suggest it was a good or appropriate read for 8 or 9 year olds, whose concerns are still strongly focused around school, family and friendships. Which is not to say this age range doesn't need books about big issues - for many children, their fears and hopes about life, death, love are just as strong as for teenagers - but they generally see them in a different context, one dominated by family/friends/small communities rather than independence, the wider world and sexual love. Death for children is worked through in terms of death of parents, beloved pets, or even the loss of cherished toys, rather than through the death of a lover or friend.

At the other end of the age range, it's also the case that many 16, 17 or 18 year olds find themselves beyond reading children's books at all, and turn to adult reads - whether that's complex literary fiction, classics, sci fi, fantasy, historical or romance. They are past the stage of wondering how to negotiate the teenage years, and more concerned to explore what it means to be a proper adult. Or they just want a good, gritty, page-turning crime story, or a book that opens their eyes to alternative universes, and they are happy (as I was, at 16 or 17) to temporarily identify with a drink-raddled male protagonist in their forties.

So, while it can be argued that 'child' is a category that covers all children up to the age of 18, in terms of reading interests there are, it seems to me, quite distinct differences between what we could call the '8-12' bracket (which will include some 6-7 yr olds, some 15 yr olds, some adults, even!) and the 12-18 bracket, which will attract some 11 yr olds, some 25 year olds, some 50 year olds, but not by any means all readers of 16 or 17.

Because of what seem to me these quite distinct differences, I'd actually like to see a separation of these two age brackets in prizes. And it's not only because the younger age range has been recently more overlooked in the prize department - it's also because I think it would free up prize committees from the endless debate about whether or not their choice is 'suitable' for children. How lovely to have a proper, big, no-holds-barred, full-blooded YA prize with no carping whatsoever. And how great to have a focus on the no less skilled but nevertheless very different kind of writing that goes into crafting a great children's story.



Cecilia Busby writes fantasy adventures for children aged 7-12 as C.J. Busby. Her latest book, The Amber Crown, was published in March by Templar.

www.cjbusby.co.uk

@ceciliabusby

"Great fun - made me chortle!" (Diana Wynne Jones on Frogspell)

"A rift-hoping romp with great wit, charm and pace" (Frances Hardinge on Deep Amber)

School Library Services – and why we need them – by Emma Barnes

Something rather nice happened a few weeks ago. I hacking away at the coal face, trying to complete the edits for the third book in my Wild Thing series, when the publisher of my previous book, Wolfie, called to tell me that it had just won a prize – a Fantastic Book Award.

Writing is a funny kind of profession. It’s lonely, insecure, there’s no pension, and you never know if the next book will be taken on – but, being so unpredictable, it does produce its golden moments.

It was a real treat, winning the award. I got a certificate, a fountain pen, letters from the child judges. Best of all, I was invited to the presentation ceremony to meet some of the participating children. I heard what they thought about Wolfie, read their reviews, was stunned by their wonderful Wolfie board games and illustrations, signed their books and led a workshop brainstorming magic animal stories. (I’m tempted to steal some of their brilliant ideas!)

Celebrating the award!

I also got to meet the lovely folks at Lancashire School Library Services (Lancs SLS) who  actually run the award.

So, at this point, you’re probably wondering what this all has to do with the title – Emma supports School Library Services because they gave her a nice day out?

No, no, and no. Encouraging authors, nice though it is, is only a side effect of what School Library Services (SLSs) do. First of all, the point of regional book awards, like the Fantastic Book Award (FBA), is not really about the prize. It’s about the process. And that means the children reading, discussing – enjoying – the books. It’s all about bringing books and children together.  And that is what every School Libraries Service aims to do.

My winning book!

To which some might say – why can’t schools do this without a School Library Service? Just consider the following facts:

 - most primary schools don’t have a librarian
 - most primary schools have limited space for a library, and limited stock
- most primary school teachers are not experts in children’s literature, and so primary schools rarely have someone who can choose stock and advise children on which book to read.

 I know these things because I regularly visit primary schools, and have encountered many “libraries” that consist of little more than a handful of Roald Dahls and Dick King Smiths. I do meet teachers and teaching assistant who are passionate about children’s books and reading – but it is through their own personal interest. Wide knowledge of children’s books does not seem to be considered a key part of the job or its training. (I don’t blame hard-pressed teachers – I do blame an education system which has given so little priority to encouraging children’s reading.)

It’s the children that suffer. Here are some of the things that I have witnessed first hand, the result of primary schools without librarians:
  
 - a Year 3 child struggling and failing to read an ancient copy of Thackeray’s The Rose and The Ring from the school library. Nobody was aware that this was not in fact a young child’s read.
-  a boy giving up on a non-fiction book in disgust because its classifications of dinosaurs was decades out of date. 
- a school library that was revamped by parent volunteers, but where there was no library time, and no chance for children to borrow books, because there was no staff member to oversee this. 
- a school which was over 60% non-white, but where none of the books on the shelves had characters of the same ethnicity/religion as these pupils. 

Here, by contrast, are some of the things I’ve seen with a designated school librarian:

 - children’s reading being guided in a good way – e.g. if you like this, then perhaps you’ll like that: if you like The Rainbow Fairies, maybe you’ll like these books by Emily Rodda (also about fairies but more challenging).
- children able to say “I’m interested in Monet/dinosaurs/space/Greek Myths” and immediately being given something age appropriate that reflects their interest.
- regular library times, for quiet reading, but also finding out what library does and how to use it. 
- a wide range of stock which does not rely completely on just a few well established authors, and which reflects all ages, abilities and interests.

 It’s hard for individual schools to tackle these issues alone. The Society of Authors has been campaigning for every school to have a librarian, a campaign I HUGELY support, but the truth is it’s not going to happen any time soon.

Meanwhile School Library Services (SLSs) provide back up. They are the infrastructure on which individual schools can rely.

What does that mean in practice? Well, the first thing I saw when I visited my local SLS in Leeds was a huge warehouse full of books. There were shelves and shelves in all kinds of categories – and all of these books are available to, and regularly sent out by the box load, to the schools that subscribe to the service.

(A bad back must be an occupational hazard in a SLS!)

A school could phone up and say, “we’re doing a project on transport for Year 4” or “we’re struggling to find books for reluctant readers” or “we need books with Muslim characters” and the SLS would help. SLS staff know the stock. They can advise schools on how to access it, how to create a better school library, and how to create a reading culture in schools. They also organize author visits – so that children can meet authors face to face, and teachers can hear about new books too.

They also organize regional book prizes – like the Fantastic Book Award (FBA). For the schools and children involved, the FBA meant a chance to:

- meet in a weekly group to read and chat about the shortlisted books (chosen to reflect a range of abilities and interests)
- read purely for pleasure and to do other fun things, like post reviews online
- spread the word about the books in school
- let teachers know which new books are out there, and which their pupils enjoy
-  engage in activities like drawing the characters in the books, designing board games and eating chocolate muffins at lunch time! All these things help make reading “cool”.
- correspond with authors and meet them in person.

After the event, I was sent feedback from the children. Here’s a couple of quotes:

This morning was brilliant. Especially when we made the story with Emma Barnes, it was fantastic!

I think today was probably the best day in my life because I saw a real life author!

Unfortunately, School Library Services are closing.  Schools have to subscribe to their services – if they don’t subscribe, the service closes. Many parents don’t know what an SLS is or does, so won't protest – which must make them a soft target for cuts. In my own area, Bradford SLS closed in 2012, and  North Yorkshire SLS is to close next year. Who will step into the gap? Public libraries? They may try (I recently did a wonderful schools’ event organized by Oldham Libraries) but public libraries are also subject to deep cuts.

At a time when the value of reading for pleasure is being recognized and acknowledged – the research evidence for its benefits keeps mounting – it's bitterly ironic that the services needed to support it are being reduced.  I just hope that the politicians and public see what's happening before it's too late.

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Emma's new series for 8+ Wild Thing about the naughtiest little sister ever (and her bottom-biting ways) is out now from Scholastic. The second in the series, Wild Thing Gets A Dog is out in July.
"Hilarious and heart-warming" The Scotsman

 Wolfie is published by Strident.   Sometimes a Girl’s Best Friend is…a Wolf. 
"A real cracker of a book" Armadillo 
"Funny, clever and satisfying...thoroughly recommended" Books for Keeps


Emma's Website
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Emma on Twitter - @EmmaBarnesWrite

Loser - Josh Lacey

One of the best things about writing children's books is not winning prizes.

My first book, A Dog Called Grk, was nominated for the Branford Boase, which is given to debut writers and their editors. I went to the ceremony practically dribbling with anticipation and terror.

The chair of the judges was Meg Rosoff, and up until the moment that her lips spoke someone else's name, I thought I had a pretty good chance of winning.

I left the ceremony disappointed and very drunk.

Since then, my books are been nominated for a few more prizes, and I've learnt that the best thing about them is not winning - because only one person wins, and it's invariably not me - but being there, and meeting the other writers, and talking to a bunch of excited kids who have come to the ceremony, and all the other bits and pieces generated by the fact of the prize.

I've just come back from the Salford Children's Book Award, which was held in the lovely Lowry Centre on Salford Quays. My novel The Island of Thieves was on the shortlist. I didn't win, but I went out to supper the night before with renowned blogger, the Bookwitch, and two of the other shortlisted authors, Gill Lewis, author of Sky Hawk, and Jamie Thomson, scribe and minion of the Dark Lord, Dirk Lloyd.

I'd already been shorlisted alongside Jamie for another prize, The Roald Dahl Funny Prize, which he had won, and with an evil-dark-lord-cackle, he told me how much he was looking forward to repeating the triumph. 

In the end, he didn't; but Gill did, taking the award for Sky Hawk. 

The ceremony was hosted with great wit and energy by Alan Gibbons. He kept a couple of hundred kids very entertained, and gave a passionate speech denouncing library closures.  

Here's one of the less serious moments: 

 I came home with the best runner-up prize that I've ever been given: something which is not merely useful, but also rather beautiful. It's with me right now: 

http://www.joshlacey.com

Why Funny Books Don’t Win Prizes – by Emma Barnes

Funny books aren’t taken seriously by prize committees.

This was the point that Julia Eccleshare recently addressed in her Guardian blog, raised by a reader who had been casting her eye over this year’s Carnegie shortlist.  The Carnegie is the UK’s longest established and probably still most prestigious prize for children’s fiction.  It is chosen by librarians – the adult children’s book establishment.  And so it really does matter what kind of books they choose.

As Julia Eccleshare acknowledged, the shortlist featured books about warring states, bereavement, terrorist attacks, poverty and corruption.  There really wasn’t a lot of light relief.

Now, I like funny books.   When I read children’s books for my own delight, it is the funny ones I take down from the shelf.  I defy anyone to feel glum, while reading a copy of The Church Mice Adrift or Dougal’s Scottish Holiday.  Adrian Mole Aged 13 and 3/4 is the title guaranteed to make me split my sides laughing: however flu-ridden, I am likely to end up falling out of bed.

Not only do I like reading them, I try and write humorous books myself.

Intrigued, I went and cast my eye over winners of the Carnegie.  The only recent title that leaped out at me as clearly comic was Terry Pratchett's The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, the winner in 2001.  That’s eleven years ago.  Not that recent, then.

In 1991, Anne Fine – a comic writer of genius, in my opinion - won with Flour Babies.  Only actually that was a rather sombre title about the unfunny subject of parental responsibility (not one of her best, I'd say, and nothing like as good or as funny as the brilliant Diary of a Killer Cat).   Before that, Gene Kemp in 1977 (for the truly wonderful The Turbulent Term of Tyke Tyler) was the last outright funny author to win the award.

As Julia Eccleshare points out, the Roald Dahl award now exists specifically for funny books.  But it was invented because funny books were being excluded from the mainstream shortlists.  And funny books shouldn’t be stuck in some kind of ghetto .  A truly funny book is a joy forever – and more than that, it’s a bloody good book!

Myths about Funny Children’s Books

They don’t have anything interesting to say about political and social issues

Read Adrian Mole – it probably gives a far better impression of Britain in the 1980s, the economic hardships and political debates, than other children’s books of the time.

They are not sophisticated, but all about farts and poo-jokes

Helen Cresswell’s Bagthorpe saga is an incredibly witty series – full of elaborate puns and jokes referencing Shakespeare and other luminaries of the English lit canon.  Or look at Anthony Buckeridge’s Jennings if you want elaborately funny plots worthy of PG Wodehouse. Or Graham Oakley for superbly witty illustrations.

They don’t tackle difficult themes

The brilliantly funny The Worst Children in the World: the Best Christmas Pageant Ever is about (I reckon) poverty, social exclusion and the all-inclusive possibilities of religious belief, all told in the form of a hilarious story about a Nativity Play.  Top that if you can!

They don’t need prizes – they will be popular anyway

That may be true of some - Horrid Henry or Mr Gum - but a Newbury Prize (the American Carnegie equivalent) might have helped the brilliantly funny Fudge books or The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to become better known outside their native land, and a Carnegie might have helped the wonderful Catweazle or Jennings books to stay in print.

(And these days, when authors and series are axed much more quickly if the sales aren't coming through, there is no time for the slow-burn build of word-of-mouth.  Being overlooked at first can mean an author never makes the big time.)

It’s not hard to write a funny book

This is a widely held view about both adult and children’s books.  And wrong.  I’d submit it’s far easier to write a tragic tale than a comedy.  Kill off a child – better yet an animal – you will make the reader cry.  But to make them laugh?  That’s real craftsmanship.  To prove my point have a look at Joan Lennon’s blog where she quotes the master comic craftsman PG Wodehouse.

 Brilliantly funny stories that never won the Carnegie Prize

Crummy Mummy and Me

Hilarous stories about a punk mother and a daughter old before her time.  I especially like the story with the squashed dog.

(Also look out for Fine's wonderful Diary of a Killer Cat series and the Summer House Loon – her first novel, and a masterpiece.)

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

The first of the hilarious Fudge books.  One of the biggest selling books ever in the US – but could be better known in Europe, where we think Blume is all about bras and puberty.

The Legend of Spud Murphy

Manages to make a story about going to the local library absolutely hilarious. 

Dougal’s Scottish Holiday

How wee Dougie takes the Magic Roundabout gang to Scotland – who knew golf could be this funny?  Eric Thompson's other titles are equally good.

Adrian Mole Aged 13 and ¾

Recently voted by Radio 4 readers as their favourite comic novel – reckon it’s my favourite too.

The Church Mice Adrift

 

Humphrey the mouse lecturing the revolting rats on Etiquette at the Court of King Louis XIV and nearly getting nobbled for his pains – it’s class, pure class.

Catweazle

This started life as a hit TV series about a time-travelling eleventh century magician which still has its fans on DVD - I reckon the book should be much better known.

The Ogre Downstairs

The funniest of all Jones’s fantasies  – but one of the least acclaimed.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

These are American classics - but hardly known in Europe.  They are side-splittingly funny, and full of heart.

Link to Julia Eccleshare’s article

Emma Barnes's latest book is How (Not) To Make Bad Children Good

Check out Emma’s web-site or follow Emma on twitter or facebook.