Norton Award Reading
So here I am sixty years old (geez, I still don't believe that) reading stuff printed for teens, for a jury.
And that's a problem. It's not a new problem. But it's one I have to think about every day while I do this.
There's a lot published for kids which kids enjoy that I don't. I've seen the storyline, the characters, too many times. I see the prose cheats that used to shuffle me right along where the author wanted me to go (Something behind her eyes told him that she was . . .) . . . if I pull far enough out, I see the stories we tell each other over and over in our culture right now: they reflect each other because they work for a great many readers.
So what do I think is award worthy? There's the Newbery Award problem--something that adults think exquisitely written, subtle and deep and meaningful . . . and that kids find boring, or a total turnoff. "Well they should be reaching for better books . . ." "They have to learn taste some time . . ." "We need to expand their thinking and vocabulary . . ." all the shoulds come trotting out, and yes, there's a point in it. Learning is about exposure to great art as well as to science, math, yadda. But too many times you give kids books they are not ready for, and it turns them off reading, or they get through it, shrug, and say, "I would rather read Captain Underpants." I was not the only teacher whose Newbery award winners sat untouched on the classroom shelves, while kids delved into worn-out popular books that never win plaudits for literary greatness.
I keep coming back to this conversation I had with someone at Fourth Street last summer, when the subject of the Norton came up, and recommended reading. She said if she were a SFWA member, she'd nominate Jo Walton's Among Others. I pointed out that it's a book for adults, and probably will be a candidate for adult awards.
She said something to the effect of, "I don't care about awards--I never pay attention to them. Here's what's important to me. If that book had been written when I was fourteen, it would have been life changing, I would have read it to pieces. As it is, I've read it three times just this year alone."
Whatever anyone thinks of Among Others (as adult or YA, as a good book or indifferent) that conversation keeps coming back to me. What kind of book would I have reread reread to pieces at fourteen? Or sixteen. Or twelve. I am enough in touch with my younger self (and I still have a lot of my reading notes) to gauge what I might have liked back then that I don't necessarily now.
Like Divergent--I couldn't force myself through it, the worldbuilding was so utterly unconvincing. I could see the author's hand shoving the writerly Legos around in order to create maximum teen angst--the backdrop made Hunger Games's iffy world look complicated. However, at fourteen, I would have gobbled both books down.
Yet I don't think I ever would have reread Divergent, though I might have reread Hunger Games when I was in an angry mood. (I remember the books I reread in those moods, as a teen.)
What works for one is not going to work for all, obviously. But I think that conversation crystalized my thinking: I need to be looking for the books that not only throw me back into my younger self, but give me that sense that I would have walked back to the library to check it out again and again.
And that's a problem. It's not a new problem. But it's one I have to think about every day while I do this.
There's a lot published for kids which kids enjoy that I don't. I've seen the storyline, the characters, too many times. I see the prose cheats that used to shuffle me right along where the author wanted me to go (Something behind her eyes told him that she was . . .) . . . if I pull far enough out, I see the stories we tell each other over and over in our culture right now: they reflect each other because they work for a great many readers.
So what do I think is award worthy? There's the Newbery Award problem--something that adults think exquisitely written, subtle and deep and meaningful . . . and that kids find boring, or a total turnoff. "Well they should be reaching for better books . . ." "They have to learn taste some time . . ." "We need to expand their thinking and vocabulary . . ." all the shoulds come trotting out, and yes, there's a point in it. Learning is about exposure to great art as well as to science, math, yadda. But too many times you give kids books they are not ready for, and it turns them off reading, or they get through it, shrug, and say, "I would rather read Captain Underpants." I was not the only teacher whose Newbery award winners sat untouched on the classroom shelves, while kids delved into worn-out popular books that never win plaudits for literary greatness.
I keep coming back to this conversation I had with someone at Fourth Street last summer, when the subject of the Norton came up, and recommended reading. She said if she were a SFWA member, she'd nominate Jo Walton's Among Others. I pointed out that it's a book for adults, and probably will be a candidate for adult awards.
She said something to the effect of, "I don't care about awards--I never pay attention to them. Here's what's important to me. If that book had been written when I was fourteen, it would have been life changing, I would have read it to pieces. As it is, I've read it three times just this year alone."
Whatever anyone thinks of Among Others (as adult or YA, as a good book or indifferent) that conversation keeps coming back to me. What kind of book would I have reread reread to pieces at fourteen? Or sixteen. Or twelve. I am enough in touch with my younger self (and I still have a lot of my reading notes) to gauge what I might have liked back then that I don't necessarily now.
Like Divergent--I couldn't force myself through it, the worldbuilding was so utterly unconvincing. I could see the author's hand shoving the writerly Legos around in order to create maximum teen angst--the backdrop made Hunger Games's iffy world look complicated. However, at fourteen, I would have gobbled both books down.
Yet I don't think I ever would have reread Divergent, though I might have reread Hunger Games when I was in an angry mood. (I remember the books I reread in those moods, as a teen.)
What works for one is not going to work for all, obviously. But I think that conversation crystalized my thinking: I need to be looking for the books that not only throw me back into my younger self, but give me that sense that I would have walked back to the library to check it out again and again.