LOVE THOSE LONGLISTS, DO! by Penny Dolan

Today the longlists for the 2019 Carnegie and Greenaway Awards are out - and what an interesting selection they are.

This post, however, is a cry, asking people to pause, and look at, and note down these longlist titles now, before the bigger, louder judging and shadowing gets underway in schools and elsewhere.

Briefly, as I understand things - and I may be wrong - the Carnegie Award goes to a book for the older, teen reader, where the quality of writing and the stretching of ideas and boundaries and - dare I suggest - final newsworthiness -  are important factors.

The Greenaway, however, delights in illustrated books, although these may well not be picture books for the youngest, "on the lap" reader. These miniature,paper galleries are often sophisticated, subtle and  intended for a wide range of ages. "Spot" they are not.

(Hmm. We'll keep quiet about the needs for the &-9 year old reader for today. )

Later in the year, when the 2019 shortlists and then Award Winners are announced will be god and great and all that. 

However, those few titles will be the results of a long, busy and competitive process where - necessarily - some good stuff gets lost on the way: probably books that are too long for many to read in time, books that aren't as of the moment as others, books that don't have exactly the right voice or cover or theme, books and authors that are not yet famous enough and books that are just plain quirky.

The Awards, when they come, will be wonderful and high profile and there will probably be a bit of title-tussling too.

But, NOW, RIGHT NOW, do reserve a bit of time for looking through these long-lists and admiring the range of books on offer for the young, teen and YA readers today: it's time to love the glory of the long lists!


Here - I hope - is the link :https://www.carnegiegreenaway.org.uk/press.php?release=pres_2019_longlists_announced.html


 (And I'm sure some of those authors, writers and illustrators have been here, posting on Awfully Big Blog Adventure, before or even now. Come on, Team ABBA?)

NaNoWriMo Deferred by Savita Kalhan

I wrote in my last blog about the pressures of being a children’s writer today, all the hats we have to wear, the endless publicity we have to do, and the social media platforms we should engage with. All of that remains true. I ended with the point that the main focus of being a writer must always be the next story that needs to be written. It’s November, which means it is NaNoWriMo at the moment. Sadly, I know that, because of all of the non-writing activities I've mentioned and editing the current book, I won’t be able to spend the time I would like on writing the next book.

So I am deferring NaNoWriMo until January. Taking a hiatus from social media will feel strange to begin with, I am sure, and I will inevitably have to scratch that itch occasionally, but I intend to limit it to a few minutes now and then, hopeful optimist that I am.

 

In the meantime, there are lots of wonderful things going on with my book, and it is beginning to reach readers far and wide, which is an amazing feeling. My book is on an international blog tour at the moment, which means that it is being reviewed by YA bloggers from India, Canada, the US, UK, Romania and the Philippines.

The reviews from the past couple of days have reminded me why I write, and I actually got quite emotional reading them - Reading through Infinity, The Cursed Books blog

I have also been immensely lucky to have been paired up with some great schools and librarians as part of the #BookPenPals scheme on Twitter, the brainchild of @KateScottwiter and @Saramoohead. One of the school librarians in the scheme has just been awarded The School Librarian of 2018 award, so huge congratulations to Emma Suffield for winning it, and to all the inspiring librarians around the world for caring about reading and sharing their passion for books with children!

Emma asked me what libraries meant to me. When I was growing up, my parents  couldn’t afford to buy me books, so I practically lived in the library. But how to put into a few words how much they have meant to me, and why they are so important for every child.

Here’s what I wrote for her school –

Go cosmic and take a space ship to the moon,

Fly a hot-air balloon around the world,

Sail to the islands at the end of everything,

Board a train to Hogwarts,

Whoosh through universes on the Great Network,

Walk through a wardrobe to a world of snow,

Dive down a rabbit hole, play Noughts and Crosses,

Learn to fly a dragon, but never laugh at a live one,

Wherever you go, whatever portal you use, the keys are in your library.

The library is where all your adventures begin...

...It’s where all mine began.

And if anyone is up for NaNoWriMo in January, let me know!

Happy writing and stay safe if you’re venturing out to the fireworks tonight!

PS The Carnegie Medal nominations have just been announced and I am so chuffed that The Girl in the Broken Mirror has been nominated! Congratulations to all my fellow nominees! Happy Monday!
Savita's website

Savita on Twitter @savitakalhan

National Libraries Week - Savita Kalhan

 

National Libraries Week has moved from its traditional slot in February. It will will now be held from the 9th to the 16th of October. It’s planned to be a week-long celebration of what libraries are, what they can do for you, for children, students and adults. Libraries will be showcasing their services, events, with themes such as digital, creative, family, inspirational, health, employment, education, families and diversity. Libraries week covers not just public libraries, but all libraries - including school libraries. 

The Facts

According to statistics compiled by the Carnegie Trust, 250 million visits were made to libraries in 2016. 15-24year olds visit the library more than over 55s. Three out of four people in the UK say that libraries are essential to their communities. 51% of us have a library card, and 41% have used a library over the last year.

Looking at these facts makes me wonder why libraries are still being closed, librarians continue to lose their jobs, and children denied easy access to their local libraries, when libraries are clearly fundamental to communities.

After a month long closure, Finchley Church End Library reopened last week in its new premises. My teen reading group met there for the first time after the summer break on Monday 2nd October. It is the only day of the week that we can hold our teen reading group meet as under-18s are not permitted to enter a library without an adult. Because it is classified as a "Core Plus" library, most days are self-service and for adults only. Some of my teens typically go directly to the library after school, which they will no longer be able to do. Kids in Year 11, aged 15, will be allowed access but only with a registration form signed by their parents and stamped by the school. 16-18 year-olds will need a signed registration form from their parents. 

But still the library staff there do their best to support the teen reading group, and provide us with enough books, which have to be gathered from across the borough. Teens are reading and they want more choice, they want more books. 

My local library was full of kids doing their homework, reading, hanging out, after school, before going home. They can only do that on a Monday now. In fact, the situation is much the same across the whole of Barnet, and, from stories I've read, it is possibly the same across the whole of the UK. It is a dire situation.

So please visit your library during libraries week, and use the hashtag #librariesweek and tweet/facebook etc to help publicise and celebrate libraries – while we still have them!

by Chris Riddell

Savita's website

Twitter @savitakalhan

Saving books by Savita Kalhan

There is a scene in  The Wasted Vigil by Nadeem Aslam, which has always stayed with me. One of the characters, Qatrina, nails all her books to the ceiling in an attempt to save them from being discovered by the Taliban, who would have inevitably burnt them had found them. Qatrina reasons that no one would think to look up at the ceiling, and so the books would be saved.

In Ray Bradbury's classic, Fahrenheit 451, books are outlawed, forcing a group of rebels to memorise them and make themselves walking libraries so that the books were not lost forever.

In the Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, there is  "The Cemetery for Forgotten Books", from which visitors were required to leave with one book and protect it forever. For the main character, Daniel, the Cemetery is not only a refuge from the world outside, but also provides him with a book that will change his life.

I read another story recently, this time a true story, of a librarian in Timbuktu - Mr. Haidara. He and his fellow librarians and archivists worked under the cover of darkness to smuggle out thousands upon thousands of manuscripts, ancient texts, parchments and books, all concealed inside metal chests and oil barrels and hitched onto donkeys. It was an extremely dangerous and brave feat, which took eight long months and which resulted in the saving of around 400,000 ancient texts. Mr. Haidara's story is now a book, The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu, written by Joshua Hammer and published by Simon and Schuster.

Books are revered the world over, libraries are places where everyone can learn and understand the world as it once was, the world as it is at present, and the world to come.

Unfortunately the number of 'bad-ass' librarians in our libraries is going down every week. In the last six years 8000 jobs have gone. That's a quarter of the permanent workforce. Unqualified volunteers working in libraries now number 31,403.

The number of libraries that have closed over the last six years is 343. Another 232 have transferred to community groups or outsourced. A further 111 are proposed for shut down over the next year or so. You can read more about it here with all the stats on BBC NEWS, and on the CILIP blog if you want to know more.

One of the arguments used in favour of shutting down some of the libraries is that they are underused and that not many books are borrowed. I use my local library, and I sometimes use the library in the next borough. My local library does not have the budget to buy many new books. The library in the next borough seems to have more of a budget and gets more new books in.

I can't request books from another borough for my teen reading group, so if my library doesn't have them, then we're stuck. We're getting a lot more stuck these days. Libraries are being run down. Then they are closed.

I love fictional libraries, and there are many, but nothing beats a real library.

My website

Twitter @savitakalhan

My Facebook page

You'd like to write a picture book? – 2016 GREENAWAY – Dianne Hofmeyr

The Longlist of the CILIP Kate Greenaway has been announced and the list is truly long. 69 books in total. Is the swell of talent rising every year? Or is the list just too long? Coming from someone who had a title with Piet Grobler’s illustrations nominated on the 2014 Greenaway Longlist, I'm happy the list is long. But in reality how does one choose between 69 books? 

What do the judges look for? In the Greenaway criteria on the website, the sentence that stands out for me is: The whole work should provide pleasure from a stimulating and satisfying visual experience which leaves a lasting impression.

Creative style, medium, consistency, typography, layout, are all part of the criteria but mostly this is beyond the control of the writer unless you're a writer/illustrator. But as far as text goes, there are other criteria that a writer might consider that could put your book in line for a Greenaway:

Are there recurring visual themes or images that enhance the reader's understanding of the book?
How well does the book either offer the reader new experiences or, reflect their pre-existing experiences?
Does the book succeed in working at different levels for different readers?
What is the overall impact of the book on the reader?

CILIP points out that the books don't have to have all these qualities in one book. So if we look back at recent past winners, is there something that strikes us about the illustrations in these picture books?

2011 Graham Baker Smith’s FArTHER, published by Templar, has a dreamlike quality showing dark emotions and a powerful sense of loss. The illustrations depict beautiful machines with delicately spiralling cogs, gilded cages, fluted and folded wings that appear more like paper origami, and finely beaten foil with spines that suggest ancient fishing rods. Mechanical yet at the same time strangely organic. I wrote about his book and the illustrations in a previous ABBA blog

2012 Jim Kay’s A Monster Calls with its absolutely haunting and atmospheric illustrations, published by Walker, totally engages the reader’s experience of the story. The monster with his twig-like extensions, contrasting with the empty way the boy is depicted, seems to encompass the all invasive power of the illness as it threatens to overwhelm the boy. Texture and shadow at its very best. Don't miss this mesmerising video clip of his work which I showed at a workshop at Charney.

2013 Levi Penfold’s illustrations in Black Dog, published by Templar, are a triumph of overcoming fear and facing it head on. He has pushed the boundaries almost beyond the limit with the size of his dog and those dreadful nostrils on the page alongside that small figure in yellow. But then I absolutely loved the visual feast of his debut picture book, The Django, as well. Pity he has moved so far away to Australia.

2014 Canadian Jon Klassen’s work in This is Not my Hat, published by Walker is a rather delicious example of subtle humour with deceptively simple illustration working at different levels for different readers. Without getting further than the murky end papers, the reader knows something untoward might happen in the dark depths of this book, where the text intentionally doesn’t coincide with what’s happening in the pictures. How can an artist get tension in a single black dot inside a white orb? But if your name happens to be Jon Klassen, anything is possible and I wrote about this one in a previous ABBA blog

2015 William Grill’s debut book, Shackleton’s Journey, published by Flying Eye Books, shows coloured pencil work and layering in beautiful spreads of vast, icebound and chilly seas – so atmospheric and wonderful that one can almost feel the crackle of cold in the air – alongside tiny, intricate, detailed drawings that will fascinate any reader. Good to have a non-fiction title in the mix.

Interesting to note that the last five have all been male illustrators and four of the five books are author illustrated. Is this a trend?

How did these books rise to the top of their lists?

If there is one factor that unites them, I would say they are all challenging the norm – all taking illustration one step further. From the simplicity of form and clever page turn in Klassens’ work, to the intricate layering of texture in Baker Smith’s, to the looming black dog in Penfold’s, the pervading dark inkiness of Kay’s, contrasting with the coloured pencilling of Grill’s, there is not one book in that group of five that doesn’t excite. They all offer new experiences and present new ideas in a fresh light, that make the books edgy and different. No nursery food for the modern picture book reader amongst this group!

So which illustrator will be next up from that incredibly long Longlist of nominations for the 2016 Grrenaway?  Is there one title that jumps out for you? Are we placing bets? But first the Short list. Maybe it easier to whittle down to that.



Jane Ray and I will be talking about picture books at the IBBY UK/NCRCL MA Conference on Saturday 14th November under the banner:
STEERING WORDS and PICTURES: how illustrators 'read' and writers 'picture' each others work.

french edition of Zeraffa Giraffa

Top 100 Children's Classics List – THE SUNDAY TIMES, UK

Best Picture Book List 2014 – The Times on Saturday, UK

www.diannehofmeyr.com

twitter: @dihofmeyr

How do we judge quality in children's books?

By Cecilia Busby

There are a couple of things recently that have made me think about how we judge quality in children's books. One was the rather interesting discussion about kids reading 'trash', started by Clementine Beauvais on ABBA and continued in other places for a few weeks afterwards. The other is my decision this year to try to read all the Carnegie shortlisted books. Both have made me think about how we judge what is good in children's literature.

The Carnegie Book Prize is probably the best known and most prestigious prize awarded to children’s books in the UK – it’s effectively the Booker for children. It generates a great deal of interest, a lot of attention for the shortlist of nominated books, and it’s a brilliant show-piece for the best in children’s writing.

A couple of years ago, my son’s school, like many across the country, took part in a Carnegie shadowing event – children at the school read the shortlisted books and then met to discuss and vote for their own favourites. It was the occasion of his most epic reading challenge ever: with only a week to go before the vote, he read the entire Chaos Walking trilogy, as he didn’t want to just read Monsters of Men on its own.

This year, I thought I’d do a little Carnegie shadowing of my own, wondering if it would be worth doing something similar with the primary school where I am Patron of Reading.  Normally, Carnegie shadowing is done by secondary schools, and when I looked at the shortlist, I realised why. I was struck by just how dark the themes were, and how many of the books were for older readers. Of the eight books, three are designated 14+, four 11+ and only one 9+. Only one of these books, then, sits firmly in the classic 9–12 age range. The others are aimed at secondary school readers: either 11–14, or 14–17. In the descriptions, the words that caught my eye were ‘trauma victim’, ‘difficult’ or ‘bleak’ circumstances, ‘a brave book that pulls no punches’, ‘unimaginable terror’, ‘shocking brutality of war’, ‘abusive, alcoholic partner’, ‘dysfunctional family dynamics’, ‘brutal act of cruelty’, ‘political tension’, and ‘family conflicts’. Only two of the books, Katherine Rundell’s Rooftoppers and Rebecca Stead’s Liar and Spy (the 9–12 book), appear to have a more light-hearted element.

Maybe this is just about the periodic shifts in what is ‘of the moment’ in children’s literature, or maybe just coincidentally the best of the books published this year have tended towards an older age range and a dark strand of realism. But the shortlist chimed for me with a growing sense that children’s book prizes, like children’s book reviews, tend to favour the more ‘literary’ end of writing, and particularly the older, more adult books. Is this because their quality, as children's literature, is better? Curious, I went to find the criteria for the Carnegie nominations, to see what these judgements were based on.

The criteria are here, and they make interesting reading. There is no mention of the world ‘children’ anywhere, except in terms of eligibility: nominations must be for children’s books. In the main criteria, it is emphasised that the book should be ‘of outstanding literary quality’, and the specifications for this relate to plot, character, and literary style. The list could just as easily be applied to an adult novel.

Children’s writers, even those for young children, use and display fantastic skills in plot, character and style – but it’s important, I think, to specify that these are being assessed in relation to child readers. Because the skill to engage a child reader may involve certain linguistic tricks, certain exaggerations of character, certain simplifications of plot, that would not necessarily work in a novel for older readers or adults, and that can, at first glance, seem less, well, less ‘literary’. Not always, of course, and indeed, one of the younger age-range books on the Carnegie shortlist, Rooftoppers, is full of astonishingly inventive imagery. But is this what makes it a great children's book?

If we make 'literary' writing the main criteria for judging quality then in effect we are judging children's books in the same way we judge adult books. This seems reasonable for the older teenage books: a literate fourteen year old is, in essence, an adult reader. Their interests, in terms of subject matter, may be different, but their ‘reading’ skills are sufficient for the deployment of the full range of adult literary styles and tricks of plotting and language.

The Carnegie judges are skilled and established children’s librarians, so it’s likely that the panel do consider these elements in relation to the age of the reader. But I wonder if the often dazzling language effects and narrative innovations that writers for older teens can utilise inevitably appear to fulfil Carnegie criteria to a higher degree than the simpler (though no less well-judged) effects used by writers for the younger age range. I wonder if the more hard-hitting and controversial subject matter that can be delved into in a teen book inevitably makes the lighter touch needed for young readers appear to be lacking in intensity by comparison. Looking at the last ten to fifteen years of the Carnegie would seem to confirm that it’s the teen books and ‘difficult’ subjects that predominate, with only a couple of winners that would not be considered YA.

I have no objection to the Carnegie celebrating the best that older teen fiction has to offer, and such books can be reasonably judged on adult literary criteria. But what if we want to celebrate the best in classic childrens books, the 9–12 (middle-grade) books? This, after all, is the age when children most fully engage with books, the age when they love them with an intensity I don’t think you ever truly find again. Books that spark that kind of love deserve to be lauded. Maybe it's time for two Carnegie Prizes - for young adult and for children's books.

If we want to celebrate these books for younger readers, though, do we need different criteria? Should we acknowledge that they simply can’t be judged by (or only by) standard ‘literary’ criteria, that these don’t fit with the way children (as opposed to teenagers) read books? Perhaps so, but then  how do we judge them? That's a trickier matter. Drawing on my own experience of the books I fell in love with as a child, I would like to suggest some criteria for judging quality in children's fiction.

1. Is a child who reads this book likely to put it down with a sigh at the end and say, “That’s the best book I ever read’?

2. Would a child who read this book want to immediately read the next book in the series, or make a note of the author and find everything they’ve ever written?

3. Is the book likely to make its child readers laugh out loud, and/or cry, without it necessarily being a wholly ‘funny’ or wholly ‘sad’ book? (Both require skill and judgement, although personally I think making them laugh is harder. But both show that the reader’s emotions are fully engaged.)

4. Is a child reader likely to be so absorbed by the story in this book so that by the end they don’t want to eat, sleep or engage with the outside world until they’ve finished it and found out what happens?

5. Are there characters in the book that will be so fiercely loved by many of the children that read it that they would give anything to walk around the corner and find them walking the other way?

6. Are these characters and the world they live in so loved by the child reader that they are likely to feel bereft when the book is over, and more than half inclined to read the whole book again from the beginning, just to keep those characters alive a little longer in their heads?

Of course, these criteria are subjective. They also rely on an adult making judgements based on their own memory of being a child reader, based on talking to children, based on their experience of children's likes and dislikes. But all judgments (including literary ones) are subjective - and these are at least very different questions to ask of a book than ones about the deployment of style, narrative, characterisation and language (although all these things contribute to the end effects I’m talking about). They are first and foremost questions about the heart and soul of the book, and its effect on child (not adult) readers.

Perhaps, if these had been the criteria over the last decade, the Carnegie winners would still have been the same books. Perhaps it doesn’t make a difference. What do you think? I am certain that the Carnegie winners over the last years have been great books. I am less certain about whether they have been great children’s books.

Cecilia Busby writes fantasy adventures for 7+ as C.J. Busby. Her new book, DEEP AMBER, is aimed at age 8-10, published with Templar.

Website www.cjbusby.co.uk
Twitter @ceciliabusby