As a lover of all things word-related, one of my favourite pastimes, of course, is settling down to read a good book. What I love about this experience also, however, is the different ways in which one can come to the act of reading itself. Foremost, at least for me, is the book-you-have-been-saving experience: more often than not this is heralded by the new release of a favoured author’s latest hardback, and might find me either legging it to my nearest bookshop on the release date of the title, or - at least in yonder days before I became a travelling library – see me squatting on my doorstep in anticipation of the postman delivering it from Amazon, having ordered it months in advance. A new A.M. Homes, Paul Auster or Haruki Murakami falling into my clammy paws always has the self-same exhilarating effect - a strange mix of heady anticipation at the potential verbal delights to come, countered by slight hesitancy: for picking the perfect moment to begin such a book is almost as important as the act of reading it itself. Sitting on such a title until that deadline, that appointment, that can’t-be-cancelled meeting has passed is really one of the most difficult things to do, and requires some self-discipline.

As with any of my other favourite authors (Graham Greene, José Saramago – I could go on but I’d better stop here for now…) encountering a new literary world of a well-loved and remembered author-consort is something which, when it comes to dipping a toe in the tide, or hurling myself off the proverbial linguistic cliff, I find the cliff winning out every time – and what a wonderful dash it often is. Engaging in such an encounter requires, above all else, free time, and the opportunity to lend oneself to the world of an author’s characters, their lives and their living. For it is when you are truly submerged in this world of the other I believe, that you are most able to forget, and yet find, some parts of yourself. This is the mark of both a good book and a great author one might take the time to argue, if one wasn’t still engrossed in finishing off the final chapter - perhaps with a cup of tea by one’s side ready to redress the inevitable frisson of bittersweet elation, at the finality of completing such a book.

Meanwhile, an unexpected brush with a never-before-read author can be a whole other revelatory relishing. The accidental encounter, whether by word of mouth, bookswap, “bookcrossing,” a book club, or literally having one thrown at one’s feet (or, in the case of how I came to meet Haruki Murakami’s books – being hit on the head by one falling from a Hong Kong library shelf) invigorates and quickens both the head and the heart. When with it comes the knowledge that this is a literary landscape hitherto untouched – well, something joyful and almost child-like in me begins to jump up and down with expectant excitement. For there is nothing else as the awareness that, at some indefinable future date, you and this new intimate may, once more, meet.

Posted by: Sara Wingate Gray

Visiting some UK libraries this week, I was struck by the vitality of each distinct location. An excited, and excitable, post-Christmas throng of teenagers armed the Teen section of the Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library, lolling on sofas to the side of the main entrance, eyeing up the latest graphic novel and manga additions, and, no doubt, each other.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, a minor mini-crisis was being swiftly averted by that day's Duty Manager Librarian: within minutes the public printers were back online, tannoy announcements informed everyone of the solved situation, and the East Anglian public happily continued tapping away on their terminals out front.

A visit with two under-tens to their local branch library, south of the river Thames in London, conjured a completely different scenario: piles of children's books spilled over the soft floor coverings as the silence of a small branch library was suddenly perforated with delighted shrieks. Small hands skimmed the shelves with haste, pulling out new books by favourite authors until we'd created our very own overspill too. A hop, skip and a jump (well, several jumps for the six year old) over to the circulation desk, to take out our books, also gave me a chance to observe another librarian's stamping technique. Visiting the library again meant another stamp on our special children's library card and we'd only one gap left to fill. So now it was complete. There were more delighted shrieks. A completed card meant we got to choose a fee-free DVD to borrow alongside our reading material. Decamping back to home base the chants of "SpongeBob SquarePants, SpongeBob SquarePants" caused puffs of hot breath to shimmer like frozen jellyfish in the cold air of our London street.

Whether serving a whole city's community as a central information point, or a small, diverse local clientele as its nearest accessible resource, a library functions best responding directly to the needs of its specific user group, its patrons, who place trust in the library's ability to gauge their needs, their knowledge-acquisition requirements. Knowledge, trust, friendliness, vitality: these are words I value, traits I look for in the people I meet, and, I'm happy to report, ably on offer at these two libraries I ventured into while enjoying the season's holidays.

I am always surprised by the diversity of library experience, whether it's visiting libraries on home ground, or venturing further afield to explore what Barcelona, Berlin, or San Francisco offer in the library exploration stakes. I wonder what other interesting community libraries are out there I have yet to visit - certainly the mule libraries of Venezuela (known as bibliomulas) are top of my list, and I'd love to hear from readers about their own interesting library experiences, so do get in touch if you've one special library place that should just not be missed!

Posted by: Sara Wingate Gray

I recently moved.

If you're a book lover and owner, you understand my pain.

Compiling your own private library isn't easy. There are the naysayers: Why do you want a book you've already read? Why not use the library? Why clutter your house? Do you know how much money you'd save if you didn't spend it on books?

So why have all these books? And frankly: I've lost count of the number. To me, it comes down to two questions. Why do I want to buy this particular book? And then, why do I want to keep this book? Because there are some books I buy and pass along; one read is enough. What makes a book a "keeper"?

For me, I keep the books that are like family. I'm emotionally connected to the book or to the author; sometimes, even to the person I was when I first read the book. So I have newer series like Harry Potter, that brought me to librarianship and back to reading fantasy, and the Keeping Days series by Norma Johnston, my favorite coming of age story ever.

Especially now that I am a librarian, I realize the folly of viewing the library as a warehouse of books that will always have the title I need to read. Library books go missing and get stolen; fall apart; or get weeded if they are no longer in fashion. If there is a person or place or story I know I'll want to revisit, either to be challenged or comforted, I need to own it. So my collection of books includes everything from poetry to children's literature, from Irish history to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Right now, those books are in boxes, waiting to discover their new home. I did begin unpacking, but only succeeded in creating piles of books as I fretted about what to do with them. A new house, bookshelves in different areas, and I'm paralyzed, trying to decide where to put them and how to organize them.

The only easy bookshelf is the one in the kitchen: all cookbooks, from medieval cooking to holiday cookies, along with back issues of cooking magazines.

But beyond that, I'm stumped. I like the photos of like colors together, all the blue books, the white books, the red books. But that would mean breaking up authors, and all the Ellen Emerson White (and Zack Emerson) books must stay together.

I also like to group books; not just all books by Sylvia Plath, but also all books about her, including works of fiction, not to mention books by and about Ted Hughes.

Hardcovers and paperbacks cannot be on the same shelf. And oversized books have their own area. See how complicated it gets?

Believe it or not, I've never shelved by Dewey. Maybe that is the answer?

So, what about you? I'd love to hear other people’s criteria for what makes a book a "keeper" and how you keep those books organized.

Posted by: Elizabeth Burns

My initial idea for this post was one about what books to give for the holidays. But then I saw Chasing Ray's Twelve Days of Christmas Book Lists series and thought, well, I cannot top that. And, The Edge of the Forest included my top gift selections in its 'Tis the Season feature, offering up book ideas from the entire editorial board, myself included (http://www.theedgeoftheforest.com/feature3.shtml).

So instead, you get – Liz's tips for giving (and receiving) books!

You're a reader. Or you know a reader. That makes gift-giving easy, right? Just give a book!

But it's not so simple when you're standing in your local bookstore, staring at tables and shelves full of books: paperbacks, hardcovers, classics, new releases, fantasy, romance, non-fiction, coffee table books, pop ups. Or you're at home, in slippers, in front of the computer, looking at your online bookstore, reading reviews and user comments. Either way: it's overwhelming.

What book to give? What is the perfect fit?

Or you're the one holding the present that you can tell, from the shape and weight and feel, is a book. But it's from a relative whose taste is, well, let's just say you're leery of opening that particular package. Or you've eagerly opened the book only to discover it's an etiquette book from your sister-in-law. Huh?

Not the book you wanted. Or needed. And you're actually a bit upset someone thought that book was a fit for you.

Tips for Giving

What will the recipient want? Sounds easy, but all too often, especially with readers, we think not of what book do they want but rather "omg, this is a fabulous book and everyone should read it."  Enthusiasm is great, but wouldn't it be better to give your surfer brother a nonfiction book about surfing movies?

Read any good books lately? If you're not quite sure what book to get, ask. "Read any good books lately" will help you find out both what books the reader likes, but also what they have already read. If you're afraid that is a little obvious, ask the person's partner, parents, or children.

Ask a Librarian or Bookseller.  Still not sure what to get? And you absolutely positively don't want to just ask the person? Ask your local librarian or bookseller. Call the library or visit the bookstore, describe as much as possible about the person's tastes, and get some suggestions from the experts.

Tips for Receiving a Book.

Don't Buy Anything for Yourself Just Before the Holiday. Give your friends and family a break. Yes, I know, you want the newest book by your favorite author right away; but your friend may have been thrilled to finally be able to get just the right book for you. And, worst case scenario? You can still get it for yourself after the holiday.

Be Obvious About What You Want. When someone asks you, "read a good book lately," realize they are asking for gift suggestions and give them a few.  Print out a list from a website, or tear the page out of a magazine or newspaper, and circle the ones you want. People aren't mind readers. Word of warning: don't give everyone the exact same suggestion.

Fake It. You open the package. Maybe you already read it; maybe you wouldn't read the book in a hundred years; maybe you find it a bit of insulting that someone thought you'd be interested in THAT book. Smile, thank them – because you know what? They tried. And picking a book for someone, especially a reader, is hard work. And after you chat to your sister in law, you may find out she thought the etiquette book was hysterically funny and gave it to you as a laugh, or she may have remembered you saying you wish you had something to let you know the right way to handle something for your new business and thought this book would answer your questions.

And, finally, most importantly –

Wait to Start Reading the Book.  This is tough one. It's a book you wanted; or a book you didn't even know you wanted but now that you've seen it you cannot wait to start it. So you read the cover, then the jacket, and what's one page, really? Just one chapter…And if you're not careful, there you are, happily reading, while there are presents to unwrap, friends and family to visit with, games to play, and a holiday meal. The book will keep; enjoy your get-together!  (And, maybe, sneak a chapter while the dishes are being washed.)

Posted by: Elizabeth Burns

This past November, the National Endowment of the Arts published a report, To Read or Not to Read: A Question of National Consequence. The picture it presents is not pretty. Time spent reading is decreasing, and along with that, reading scores. Decreased reading affects everything from employment to attendance at cultural events to volunteerism. Many people asked questions about the report, its method of gathering data, and its interpretation. People may not be as “not to read” as portrayed.

Whether or not you agree with the data and issues in the report, it raises the obvious question. What can we do to encourage reading? To encourage not just the act of reading, but to encourage a love of reading as well? To those of us who love reading and stories, it seems a no-brainer. Reading is fun, of course people want to do it!

Reading is fun. And I think that should be enough reason to encourage reading, and to praise reading, and to value it when we, and kids, read. Linking reading to increased employment opportunities and civic duty may be necessary to get press attention or involve employers and other organizations, but c’mon; does a ten year old care about that? Should they? No; they shouldn’t read “because I will be a better person.” They shouldn’t read “because then I will make more money.” They should read because it’s fun.

So, how to make reading fun? Is that even possible, or are some people just readers and others non-readers? People are as varied as books; there is no one size fits all approach. That said, here are some of my ideas. Since I am a childrens/ teen services librarian, I am, of course, thinking about encouraging kids and teens to read. But seriously? I think these things are true for anyone, regardless of age. And when I say “your kids,” they could be your own children, the children in your classroom, other family members.

Value Reading. We often hear about valuing books; but what about the act of reading? When the house is dusty, the yard needs mowing, laundry is piling up, where on the list of “things that need to get done” does reading fall? People looking to get into physical shape are told to exercise several times a week and make it a priority. How often do you make reading a priority?

Read yourself. Modeling that reading is fun is the best way to show others that it is fun. Have books in the house. Read books in front of your kids. And discuss books; as people in the kidlitosphere will tell you, half the fun is reading the book. The other half? Talking about the book with someone.

Respect the reading people are already doing. Saying “that genre / series / author stinks, now here is a good book” wins over no-one. But then again, I think the way to win over people is to be nice, not mean. Want to see a kid get excited? Ask them about the book they are reading; ask them, why do you like it; and finally, ask them what books they would recommend to you. Nothing beats an excited kid telling an adult what the adult should read “because it’s really, really good.”

Read what your kids are reading. Before you start complaining about the time, or not being interested, or having other things to do, think of what you are asking your kids to do. If you want them to, say, read, classics, they’re thinking “not interested, no time.” So now, you turn around and say the same thing back to them? Not cool. Reading the books your kids are reading gives you a better understanding of what that book is about and what your kid wants from books. It also shows kids that you value their choices and allows you to discuss the books with them.

Discuss books with respect. Respect the book and the reader. Don’t talk about books in a “homework” way; talk about books in an “omg, this was so awesome, I have to share it with someone,” or “I cannot believe that ending.” There is a time and a place for critical examination of books and language and reading; but if your goal is to get people to know reading=fun, now is not the time to tear apart their favorite book, making snarky jokes about the writing. “Oh you like that? Wasn’t it done so much better by this other author?” Nope; the goal is not you showing off your book knowledge, but getting someone else excited and engaged about what they read. Discussing books is one reason to read the books your kids choose; it gives you a common experience. You may find some gems amongst the books your kids are reading; or, you may find what they want from a book and have a better idea of what to recommend for further reading.

Alternate formats are good. For some kids, a movie version of Moby Dick watched at nine and a graphic novel of Moby Dick read at eleven is just the right foundation to make that high school required reading fun. (For the record? That was me. Yes, I loved Moby Dick!) Knowing the basic structure and characters helped tremendously, and this is especially true of books written long ago enough to seem to be written in a foreign language. Watch the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice instead of reading the book? No; but watch it for the visual clues about class that a modern reader may miss? Yes.

Covers Matter. Every reader knows that “don’t judge a book by a cover” is a lie. Covers matter; so if you are going to invest in books, get ones that look good and appealing. Keep in mind, for some kids, the appeal is a dusty old volume dug up from the attic.

Keep it fun. We’re not talking about homework or something someone “has” to do. Turn any of this into “have to” or punishment and you’ve lost the battle. Making every Tuesday night “the night we discuss books” can end up with everyone (you included) dreading Tuesday nights.

I don’t think there is any “magic bullet”. A reader may be born at age three, or thirteen, or thirty. That “one book” that provides the “click” moment of reading=fun could come anywhere, at any time. Be ready for it!

Posted by: Elizabeth Burns

I’ve already addressed what a review looks and smells like in a previous post, but recently I’ve been coming across some ethical conundrums, hurt feelings and other assorted downers that ensnare new reviewers from time to time.

I wondered if maybe I hadn’t gotten too far ahead of myself: what if you’re just starting out and don’t know what to expect? You just signed up for a shiny new blog, you’re dutifully trying to post every day, you attract a few readers, wrangle a few free books.

And then what? I asked around, and in particular, I wanted to hear from experienced bloggers how they faced an empty screen, and what went into their reviewing process.

The people I e-mailed are from the organizing committee over at Cybils, or the Children’s and Young Adult Bloggers’ Literary Awards (http://blog.cybils.com) now underway. They all have solid credentials as bloggers, having been at this for at least a couple days.

Online reviewers’ unique issues

Their problems finding words to describe other people’s words certainly aren’t new, but there are some novel problems in our online instant-reaction land when the white-hot flames of irate fans are always a mere mouse-click away.

There’s also a profound difference in temperament and training. When print critics come under fire, they’re usually bolstered by editors with ice in their veins. Most bloggers only have their spouse’s shoulder to sob on.

And kidlit bloggers, who often come from the ranks of librarians and teachers, are by nature a helpful lot. They aim to please. Send them a few books and they’ll review them. Send them a ton of books and they’ll review those too. Overwhelm them with your entire frontlist, plus everybody else’s frontlist, and they’ll slog through the stack, panicking lest they overlook one.

This is not good for having a balanced life, or getting supper ready on time, or preserving what’s left of your eyesight (not to mention sanity).

Another huge problem seems to be staying original when many people have reviewed the same material, or when the publisher sends out press packets with concise, pithy summaries of the book already. Is that stuff fair game?

I asked what makes for good, basic reviewing habits:

“Keep the audience in mind”

Kelly Herold, Big A little a (http://kidslitinformation.blogspot.com/):

1. I always throw away publisher material. Always. I find it can cloud my judgment if it isn’t completely a waste of time, which it often is. I especially find publisher info on picture books annoying. Why do I want 2 pages of text on a book with fewer words? I don’t.

2. Keep the plot summary to one paragraph.

3. In my case, I like to keep my reviews to 3-5 paragraphs tops.

4. Always quote from the book if possible so readers can get an idea of the author’s style.

5. Keep audience in mind: who is the book for? age range?

6. Anne has taught me that if it is a picture book, you have to learn to think critically about the illustrations as well. This has not been easy for me, but I’m working on it.

Ending? Don’t mention it. No, really. Don’t.

Jackie Parker, Interactive Reader (http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/):

The only thing I look at on the publisher’s accompanying propaganda is the contact information for the publicist. Never know when that will come in handy...

I started to avoid reading jacket flaps or reviews past the first paragraph because I found they often gave way too much information away. My cardinal rule (I have many, but this one hasn’t been mentioned yet) is DON’T FREAKIN’ GIVE AWAY THE ENDING. I don’t know HOW many times I’ve heard people booktalk or whatever a book and give away way too much information. If you are going to have spoilers, say so. As a reader, I’m going to get really irritated if you don’t warn me. As a blogger librarian it’s just bad form. It seems like a no-brainer, but I still run into people who do it.

NEGATIVE REVIEWS: NOT THE ‘KISS OF DEATH.’

Sheila Ruth, Wands And Worlds (http://www.wandsandworlds.com/blog1/):

Just a comment about negative reviews from a publisher perspective. Most of the advice I’ve seen for publishers says that a negative review is still a good review (unless it totally trashes a book). It’s like the old saw that any publicity is good publicity. And a book on amazon with all five-star reviews is suspicious, whereas a book with a lot of reviews, some good, some bad, looks like a genuine thing. The martial arts book I published has mixed reviews from 2 to 5 stars (I’ve discovered that martial artists are very picky people) but it sells well anyway, and most of the sales come from Amazon. So a negative review on Amazon isn’t the kiss of death. I think *publishers* for the most part understand this, but many authors don’t. It’s naturally harder for them to be objective, because it’s their baby.

HAVE A WRITTEN REVIEW POLICY

Jen Robinson, Jen Robinson’s Book Page (http://jkrbooks.typepad.com/):

● Have a written review policy that you can refer to, in which you make clear whether or not you review everything that you receive, and that you don’t guarantee positive reviews. This helps to keep everyone’s expectations in line.

● If possible, notify the author and/or publisher when you do post a review, especially if it’s a mixed review. This increases your level of professionalism, and can help keep the author/publisher from feeling sand-bagged by running across a mixed review unexpectedly.

● If quoting from ARC or galley, make sure to specify that. This protects you and the publisher, should the final book differ from what you quoted. - Indicate the source from which you received the book, and be up-front about any particular ties that you might have with the author. I believe that being up-front about these sorts of things is the best guard against people who question one’s objectivity.

HAVE A BIT OF A THICK SKIN

Liz Burns, A Chair, A Fireplace and a Tea Cozy (http://yzocaet.blogspot.com/):

● Have a bit of a thick skin; yes, easier said than done. But, if we say authors should have a thick skin, we, as writers, should have a thick skin also when someone disagrees with our reviews.

● You won’t convince the author that you’re right; chances are, the author won’t convince you that you’re wrong. (but, if you made a mistake ... That’s another thing entirely. If your review said, “what an odd action for an 12 year old orphan” and the author says, “interesting, except it’s an 10 year old and the parents are divorced,” own your mistake. Even if the change is now, “what an odd action for a 10 year old whose parents are divorced.”)

● Galleys and arcs do change before publication. If you don’t like something based on a galley or arc, you owe it to the author and to your readers to wait for the real book because it is very possible that what you didn’t like was fixed.

AVOID SNARK ATTACKS

Sarah Stevenson, Finding Wonderland (http://writingya.blogspot.com/):

Personally, I think that there’s never a bad time for diplomacy and tact in a review, positive or negative. I learned that very early on when I used to write a weird websites column and I made a snarky comment about a site I wrote up...and they wrote back to me saying they were sorry I thought their site could use improvement but they had a limited budget (it was a site at a university, for a robot arm you could move via the web) and that was all they could do given their means...and I felt soooo bad.

A FEW LAST WORDS

There’s always more advice to give on getting started in book blogging and reviewing. In fact, the most recent Kidlit Blog Carnival was about precisely that compiled by the witty Pam Coughlin at MotherReader (http://www.motherreader.com/2007/11/november-carnival-of-children.html).

There’s plenty there from around the blogosphere.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t add my own $.02 to the discussion. I second everything already said rely on your own voice and not the publisher’s, value diplomacy but be firm and would add a few things I learned the hard way:

Don’t blog your way to a stronger eyeglass prescription (I’ve upped mine three times since starting book buds). It’s very expensive to go blind.

You can ignore all other chores but supper. You family shouldn’t starve for food or your company, even if they must climb over piles of laundry to dine with you.

● If snark is important to you, develop a style that’s at least clever. Try metaphor, exaggeration, new turns of phrase--anything but plain bitchiness, which is so overdone as to be entirely predictable. If I can finish your mean, foul sentence for you, you’re boring me.

● Take advantage of automatic posting, if your blog host has that lifesaving feature. I write all my reviews on Saturdays and let the nice folks at TypePad do the rest. I then resume my regularly scheduled life.

● Get a life. Eat moderately and exercise often. Stop smoking. Be nice to small animals and old people. Say your prayers. Remember that you’re human and not an extension of your keyboard. Of course, I’m terrible about all of the above, so do as I say and not as I do ...

I’ve been thrilled at this opportunity to blog for ForeWord, and am sorry my month ended after the traditional four weeks. I was hoping we could stretch November out until, oh, Memorial Day at least.

I wish you all happy reviewing and/or blogging, and a very Happy Holidays.

Posted by: Anne Boles Levy

The “value added” books have been moving in, and there goes the neighborhood.

You know the kind. They’re from publishers gone astray, who’ve led kidlit authors down the garden path of gimmickry. These books are more tease than text, with doodads pouring out of their shrink wrapping like muffin tops over low-rise jeans.

The Big Houses are the most promiscuous, as you might expect, in fudging the centuries-old definition of “book” with puzzles, blocks, charms, chalk and – lest we forget – stacks of CDs. They arrive unsolicited by the carton, bright and loud and clashing, clamoring for my children’s attention, screeching sour notes with their awkward meter, near-miss rhymes or “activities” that occupy some time but few brain cells.

My favorite independent publishers aren’t immune – and you know who you are. Though when I sat down to make a list of what I’d gotten recently and from whom, I discovered to my pleasant surprise that the most memorable “value addeds” were from the independent houses. There was a Mozart CD and a build-it-yourself-microphone that briefly bobbed to the Top of the Tots list at our home.

But when did reading stop being enough? You have to distract kids from learning actual words with book-like-thingamabobs because the symbol that really matters is the capital S with a vertical line through it, $ee? Sorry to sound cynical. It seems to be a part of a parent’s job description.

Sure, I come across many quaint, traditional stories with such outmoded “features” as character arcs, plots, metaphor, subtext and even big words. Give me Candlewick or Peachtree or Barefoot Books or Kane/Miller or geeky Sylvan Dell. They’re the Bohemian literary types renting a fifth-floor walk-up and subsisting on Ramen Supreme while the Value Addeds make all the money and fret about being properly accessorized.

I have no statistics to back up my assertion the stuff is everywhere. But I can hear it. So much of it pings and rattles, clicks, clacks, rings, purrs and, mostly, breaks. The box should say: Some re-assembly required.

Somebody with marketing credentials could probably pinpoint how much worse it’s getting. I do know that I usually throw away brochures and even whole catalogs from the Big Houses listing licensed characters and movie tie-ins and whatnot. Occasionally, this stuff arrives anyway, and I have to toss it or give it away—quick—before my kids spot it and I’m doomed to plot cliché hell.

But the Value Added stuff is tougher. Some of it’s too clunky to hide, doesn’t fit easily into the trash, or is made of materials too suspect to recycle.

My anecdotal evidence is that, yes, the Value Added books—and I use the term “books” loosely—are becoming more ubiquitous and brazen. I’m not talking your standard lift-the-flap or scratch-n-sniff or touch-n-feel or snort-n-drool or whatever. Those books have been around since, well, I dunno. A long time, I suspect.

A Humongous House once sent a full set of classic books with tiny dangly charms off the spine: Black Beauty, Secret Garden, a few others. We’re talking cheap, easily ingested, vacuum-clogging doodads probably made from lead or spent nuclear fuel rods. The sort of girl who can be lured into reading a book because it dangles a bauble probably has a ton of them already. Baubles, that is, not books. And the sort of girl who loves reading classic children’s books is, I would guess, doing so for rewards other than cheesy graft made by Chinese prison laborers.

I’m talking about boxes of puzzles attached to paperbacks that were drearily written, like the writer was stuck with this stupid ol' Easy Reader while his luckier colleagues got to translate complicated assembly instructions from Japanese into Pidgin.

I’m talking about books with magnets, books with gameboards, books with moving parts or pieces missing—deliberately. As if I need children’s books that come pre-destroyed.

Odd thing is, I don’t spot these books in bookstores, where the printed word still rules, but I do see them in toy stores from time to time. That’s fine for Cranium or Chronicle, with its brilliant, well-designed SmartLab line. But then I see smart parents buying smart toys and dumb books, which seems a pity and winds up wasting space in the landfill.

I can also give a little ground on the subject of CDs, which I see nearly all the publishers doing. For a biography of Mozart from North-South Books, a CD was indispensable, but another publisher sent one of bird songs that was fatally scratched. Now the CDs in my house are subjected to delicate surgery to pry them from skintight sleeves and place them in clearly labeled jewel cases—entirely too much work for one harried Mom.

I’m not a Luddite, truly. I embrace any technology that drives production costs down and makes all kinds of publishing innovations possible. But can I ask on behalf of my kids, their friends, their teachers and other busy parents that there be some motive for the onslaught of Value Addeds other than desperation?

For example, I recently had dinner with Sondra LaBrie, marketing guru for Kane/Miller, which reprints foreign picture books. She proudly described her house’s commitment to its backlist.

“Some of these books have been around longer than I’ve been there,” she said.

For books to hang around several years after their artificially imposed “sell by” date, you can bet their charms are found in their pages, not dangling from their spines.

Posted by: Anne Boles Levy

Try telling a roomful of ardent book lovers that they’re writing reviews all wrong. I’d never given a presentation – ever – yet I had to wean my favorite kidlit bloggers from thinking that reviewing is all about their opinions.

It isn’t. Nor is it necessarily even about individual authors or books.

No, it's about what former Los Angeles Times book review editor Steve Wasserman called "a cultural conversation of critical importance."

I took it to mean that no book exists in a vacuum. It’s part of a genre or it breaks from it; it’s typical of the author’s work or it’s a departure; it’s of the moment or reminiscent of another era. It has its hyper-specific niche or is part of a  movement. There’s always a larger something or other to say about it, and a reviewer’s job is to pin that something, as nebulous and slippery as a jellyfish, to the wall.

I decided to wallop the kidlitosphere with the particulars of this “cultural conversation” at a first-ever conference in early October. Librarians, booksellers, authors and the similarly obsessed emerged from their virtual worlds into the real one for one day in a conference room at a Radisson hotel in Chicago, the  tables arranged so we all faced one another, who’d been avoiding the light of day like those tube worms at the ocean’s bottom, pale and shy and blinking uncertainly. 

When my turn came, I scrambled beneath my table to the center well and faced the writers I admired enough to reprimand.

The review genre

Of course, all these people are ridiculously nice or they'd be blogging about politics or law or other grouchy topics. So I had nothing to fear, right? Except that I was there to tell them that the fun can't go on forever. That to write at a professional level means understanding that reviewing is a genre, with its own tropes and quirks and readers' implicit expectations.

Function follows form in reviewing, and I’ve adopted the mission of teaching those forms to whoever will sit still long enough. It's anathema even to nice bloggers, however, who are accustomed to the freewheeling, unedited, unexpurgated Express Yourself theme park that’s become the blogosphere. It’s tough to be told there are forms to follow, and they make sense, and the wheel doesn't need constant reinventing.

Plus, there was no getting around the fact that my 12-page handout did not fit neatly into the allotted 50 minutes, after I had prepared for a 90-minute workshop.

I raced through the material and there were many salient points that I had to skim or drop altogether. People were slow to get started, perhaps lulled by the easygoing nature of other presentations. Mine was high key, and I think many were startled at the size of the handout and the announcement that there would an editing exercise.

Where we are now

I began with an overview of the print vs. blog reviewers animosity. I stated flatly that print reviewers are gatekeepers, with an impulse to keep the barbarian hordes (that’s us) at bay out of self-preservation.

And one look around the book blogging world does indeed reveal a gap in skills, to put it gently. But the gates to the castle are easily opened; by knowing what a good, meaty book review looks like, you can join that cultural conversation Mr. Wasserman asserts in his excellent, if somewhat bitter personal essay on the subject of reviewing. 

Everything else, to me, is book chatter – also valuable, of course, but it doesn't employ the same analytical thinking or provide the same depth of insight.

Forms vs. Formulas

Before I could launch into the forms of book reviewing, I reminded people that forms aren't formulas. I used a shopping analogy (payback for all those overused sports analogies – I'm not much of a "team player" and I never "hit one out of the park"):

This isn't like going into a department store looking for size-12 sportswear and all you find are size-8 cocktail dresses. This isn't about one-size fits all.

Switching metaphors (you can do this when you're talking a mile a minute), I said imagine the structured review as a dinner plate. Just because everyone uses a dinner plate doesn't mean we're all eating the same meal. What you prepare and how you present it are entirely your own.

Having an Ideal Reader

I spent only a brief time asking bloggers to consider not just readers who routinely visit their blogs, since writing for this immediate circle eventually becomes limiting and self-referential.

You unwittingly erect your own gates, admitting only those who "get" you and your stylistic quirks. To reach a broader audience, you have to imagine who they should be.

I never imagined that Book Buds would draw so many librarians, and while I love every one of them, my ideal reader is still the lost parent in the bookstore, afraid to venture beyond what they loved from their own childhoods into the wilderness of all those new titles. I always write for that parent, imagining him or her anew each time.

The Three Forms of Book Reviewing

I taught that book reviewing – or really, any kind of reviewing – breaks down into three forms based on length: capsule reviews, mid-length or daily reviews (so called because they appear in the daily sections of newspapers instead of Sunday) and long-form essays topped by a billboard (explanation below).

We spent the most time on capsule reviews, because we find it most often on blogs and it offers the easiest opportunities for freelancing. It's also a pain to get it right, and therefore the most flagrantly abused.

My advice: write tight, eschew too much plot rehash, have a distinct perspective, be authoritative.

I had people edit a short, highly critical review of a Hanukkah book that had been sent to me by a writer looking for editing advice. I was surprised when many people (authors all) stalled on the idea that the writer would even bother with a negative review.

Many authors simply couldn't emotionally grapple with the reality of negative book reviews, of their being a vital part of that "cultural conversation."

Daily Reviews

We moved on to the dailies, which I insisted must have two characteristics: thematic consistency and brisk writing.

My advice:

Simply listing all your likes and dislikes doesn't make for a review, even if you think you're being thorough. Especially if you think you're being thorough!

Ruminate on the book as deeply as time allows. Where does it fit in its genre? Or into the author's body of work? Or in pop culture? If there's one notion in your head that shines brighter, there's your theme, which acts as a thread to pull readers through to the end.

Organize all your quotes, plot details and exposition around that ONE theme. That's all there's room to do in a daily. As with capsule reviews, keep plot rehash to a minimum. Weave in only those details that make sense for the theme you've chosen. If there are plot details that MUST be included that DON'T fit your theme, you may have the wrong theme.

The long form

The long-form essay deals not necessarily with one particular book -- unless it's a seminal work -- but with a writer's career, or a trend or movement in literature, or it paints some much larger picture than is possible in the 500-800 words usually reserved for dailies.

I didn't get to say this, but the long form can go very long -- up to 25,000 words or so, after which it's time to get a book contract!

To keep it manageable, the long form features what's known as a "billboard," basically a signal of what's to come. Its two characteristics are the anecdotal lead of 1 or 2 extremely large paragraphs or 3-6 shorter paragraphs, plus what's called the "nut" paragraphs because they contain the kernel of your arguments.

The opening anecdote -- often but not always drawn from the subject's life -- ends in an "aha" moment when the reader finally learns why he or she's reading this.

That's when biography stops and the hard work of laying out your themes begins. A longer piece needs more than one theme, and EVERY SENTENCE in the nut graphs lays out a different theme, each subsequent sentence building on the one before.

I used an excerpt from a recent piece on Jack Kerouac (his "On the Road" turns 60 soon) and quickly pointed out where we shifted into "nut" mode and labeled the anecdote as "A" followed by themes B, C, D and even E.

Throughout the piece -- indeed, every long piece -- writers will wheel through ABCDE (or however many letters) again and again. To put all the plot rehash or anecdotes or quotes (the "A" stuff) together would make little sense except as a book report; to put all paragraphs on theme B or theme C, etc., together gets wearisome. People like patterns and the mind absorbs them without effort.

If, each time you dip into the well for "A" matter, you then work it through each theme, you create a circular movement that propels readers along, always coming back to A again, and so forth. You build momentum.

(This is tough to explain without showing, but if you want to peek in at Book Forum, any Sunday book review section or the New York Review of Books, you'll find plenty of examples to dissect this way.)

Reactions

The reaction? Most people were gracious and approving. A few were shell-shocked at having to do actual thinking. But that’s exactly my point; jotting down newsy tidbits gleaned from press releases or rounding up links doesn’t require critical analysis. Dashing off comments isn’t a conversation. A thumbs-up, thumbs-down cursory reaction isn’t a review.

All those factoids and quips serve their purpose, but if we’re going to bury beleaguered book review sections, unwittingly or no, we ought not replace them solely with the printed version of a five-minute quickie. Just as a book still requires some luxuriating, even in our haste-addicted society, a sustained argument in a long essay is still a slow, deliberate seduction that engages the senses, lingers in the memory, and satisfies the spirit.

Posted by: Anne Boles Levy