Shelf Space
Booksellers and Librarians talk about what's in their reading room and what's on the horizon.
 Friday, February 29, 2008
I’ve been privileged to visit ForeWord as a guest blogger this month. I’ve written two posts as a reviewer. I’ve written two posts as a librarian. But I haven’t addressed the roles that are nearest and dearest to my heart, the duo of roles that inspires my blog title. I am a Mother and I am a Reader.

Here’s one of my favorite MotherReader stories. When my oldest daughter was five, she asked me to play house. “I’ll be the mommy and you’ll be the little girl,” she said. I agreed and prepared myself for my role. Meanwhile, she sat down on the couch, opened a book to read, and looking over the top said, “Go play with your sister.”

Never have I felt so much angst and pride at the same time. Of course, my mother guilt kicked in. Did she think that all I did was read? Did she feel so neglected? What kind of mom was I? But at the same time, I felt proud of the lesson she had picked up from me, namely that Moms read and reading’s important.

As a mother of two (now) school-aged girls, I get asked occasionally how I find time to read. I can only pat the questioner on the head with an air of pity (well, mentally), and answer that one doesn’t find time to read, one makes time to read. Looking at reading as something that that’s done when everything else is finished, means that you’ll never even crack open a People magazine. (Not that I read this particular journal, understand.) And this goes double, maybe triple for mothers. Every minute I read, I’ve carved that time away from something else. Sometimes I don’t put the laundry away. Sometimes I don’t shower, but I make the time to read.

While I’m taking time for myself in a self-care, Oprah kind of way, I’m also conveying an important message to my kids. Moms read books for fun. I couldn’t talk to them about reading being important and then never open a book myself.  My actions speak louder than my words ever could, and believe me, I can make my words LOUD.

I’ve also been asked by parents that with today’s busy lifestyle, how I find time for my kids to read. For this question, I allow a quick wide-eyed expression of shock so the questioner realizes the very seriousness of the inquiry. For me, it’s as if they’ve asked how I find time for my children to eat dinner. In my family, reading is a necessary and vital part of our day. We formed the habit early, and rarely break it.

Since my daughters were babies, the last part of every evening has been given over to reading. When the girls were younger, my husband or I read to them. Then each child went through a stage where we would alternate fun picture books with the beginning readers series of the month. Now sometimes we read a book to them – a great picture book or chapters from a harder book – and sometimes we all read our own books. Often one daughter and I will recline on the couch, each leaning against the opposite side arms and our legs sharing the space in the middle. It’s comfy. It’s fun. The dishes can wait.

Want to raise a reader? Then read. Read to them, read with them, read beside them. Take it from a MotherReader.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

posted on Friday, February 29, 2008 3:42:12 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [4]
 Monday, February 25, 2008
I am magic. I can make books disappear.

My magic isn’t always strong. It ebbs and flows with the seasons and even the days of the week. My magic isn’t all-powerful. There are books that continually resist my charms. My magic isn’t reliable. It sometimes works or fails when I least expect it.

But I am magic, and I am not alone.

My skills can be taught, and I am breaking the great vow of the magician to share my secret. It’s astonishing simple, yet can make books disappear from shelves and into the hands of readers more than anything else.

Pull a book from the shelf. Tighten up the shelf of books to leave a six-inch space at the end of each shelf. Put the chosen book in that space with the cover facing outward. Stand back and allow the magic to do its work.

As I mentioned earlier, this particular strain of magic isn’t always strong, powerful, or reliable. In the summertime, the books that face out disappear off the shelves quickly. In the week before Christmas, I could tape Fun-Dip to the covers and they still wouldn’t go out. For me, the early parts of the weeks see more books finding their just-right reader. On Fridays the books may spend the weekend staring out into the library zone dreaming of being read by a warm fire or under a down comforter.

Also like many a great magician, I do have an assistant. Actually, I have three assistants who do their jobs long before the books come gently into my hands. I have no communication with them unfortunately, but as I reveal my secrets today I can also implore them to make my magic – our magic – stronger.

It starts with the author. I wouldn’t even presume to tell authors to write good books, though that does help books find readers. I know that the author is putting her heart into her writing and believes that she has put together the best book that she can. But I would suggest that the author really really think about the title of the book. A great title can move a book. Do you think Sex Kittens and Horn Dawgs Fall in Love stays on the shelf? Not a chance.

The publisher has a huge impact on the book by creating the cover art. A good book with a boring cover will sit on the shelf forever. Not even my librarian magic can move it. An interesting, funny, and/or kid-friendly cover can make that book almost jump off the shelf and find a new best friend. Before the publisher signs off on the cover or title (because they can help here too), someone should find about twenty kids of the target age and find out if the cover and title grabs them. The plain cover of The Seven Wonders of Sassafras Springs was a killer for that book. But lesson learned, as the paperback has a more engaging cover. The girly-looking unicorn on the cover of The Prophecy by Hilari Bell may be keeping the boy readers away from this otherwise boy-friendly book, but the publishers are staying the course with the paperback. (By the way, maybe the book could have had a title that isn’t the tile of say, forty other books. Just saying.)

Online and print reviewers have their own magic to create. By promoting books that may fall under the radar, those titles become prime choices for librarians to pull out from the rows of books and set out for others to find. By interviewing authors, a personal connection is formed that makes it a notch easier to select a title from a new author to display. By promoting special topics or events, they create a reason for special displays and lessons. The kid lit bloggers’ love for Babymouse turned me on to the series and to the author Jennifer Holm (Maybe “turned on” isn’t the right phrase in the context of the author, but she is a very nice person and great writer.)

Here’s how it works for me in a day at the library. I straighten the children’s fiction shelves and pull out The Naked Mole-Rat Letters because the title is cool. At the next shelf I pull out the classic Jenny and the Cat Club because we have two copies and I believe that adults would love to know that it’s there to read to their kids. The next shelf is some book by Avi, because there are so many and they all beg to be read. Then an Ivy and Bean book because girls always grab it within a day or two. Through the rest off the shelves I go selecting books that I like, that have great covers (How to Steal a Dog), that have great titles (My Sister is So Bossy She Says You Can’t Read This Book), and that have great and/or likeable authors (Grace Lin’s Year of the Rat). Then I stand back and let the magic take over.

Scene: From my vantage point at the information desk I see a boy. He’s drawn to the shelf. The cover grabs him, the title reels him in, he picks up Whales on Stilts! by M.T. Anderson. He skims the inside cover. He takes it away with him.

Magic.

*title credit to Steven Colbert’s book, I Am America (And So Can You!)

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

posted on Monday, February 25, 2008 10:49:20 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [2]
 Friday, February 15, 2008
A man goes into a sub shop — let’s call it Subdays — and finds that they have his favorite deli meat there. Liverwurst. He’s thrilled to find it served and goes back to that sub shop frequently. But one day, he’s in a different area and goes into another Subdays shop and finds that liverwurst is not offered there. They have hummus, but no liverwurst. He’s annoyed at this inconsistency and writes to the head of all Subdays expressing his aggravation. (Stay with me here.)

The president of Subdays can basically do three things. She can thank the man for his opinion, but let him know that the Subdays franchises are run independently and can serve what they choose to serve. She can commission a survey of customers and franchises on the feasibility of serving liverwurst and hummus at Subdays, and turn the data into a sophisticated algorithm showing in which locations liverwurst and hummus should be served. Or she can order the Subdays franchises to stick to the original menu with no substitutions or ethnic variations. Oh, and menus should be displayed four inches from the cash register. (Almost there.)

Now suppose that the managers of the various Subdays earned their graduate degrees in delicatessens. How would they respond? Maybe they’d chose to run a deli in an office building, where they’d have some guidelines, but not so many hard rules. Maybe they’d take their degrees elsewhere — supermarkets perhaps, or entirely unrelated businesses.

Without fitting the analogy too tightly, this is where the public library system finds itself today. They want professional librarians trained to make decisions, but the greater library system holds onto the power. The problem may be less prevalent in smaller library systems, but as the number of branches in a system grows, so does the need to exercise more control over collections, policies, and initiatives. If there is a goal of more consistency for the sake of the patron — and at some level, for the sake of the employees — what happens to the librarians trained to run the show?

Well, some of them leave. The school system can offer a huge competition for librarians who want more authority in their library, with the bonus of better hours and summers off. The most energetic librarians may find the public library system too stifling, and look for work where the fold of the brochure doesn’t need to be a matter for committee. The new graduates may skip the public library altogether and use their degrees in business.

In my large, suburban (unnamed) library system, centralized ordering for books and media seems essential. The job would be too big for any particular branch. However, ordering by the numbers results in some waste and lost opportunities. For example, my branch will get new Magic Tree House books because other libraries had worn-out copies, or because the two-year ordering cycle for the Magic Tree House series indicates that it’s time. But our branch gets lots of donated, new copies of books in this series — certainly enough to replace old or lost copies. Perhaps we’d rather use our funds in this area to replace other titles instead, and in doing so, become more involved in the process.

Brian Kenny, Editor-in-Chief of School Library Journal, recently talked about the issue of centralized ordering in his December editorial. As he says, “There’s no greater experience for new librarians than being responsible for buying front-list titles. It engages them in a continuous learning process as they grow familiar with the review literature, publishers, and trends, on the one hand, and their community and its evolving needs on the other.”

A larger library system can become overly dependent on administration initiatives based on research instead of front-line experience. Even small decisions turn into matters for committee, not individual librarians or managers. Again to offer a true example, while it can be helpful to have a “Lost and Found” policy that covers the entire library system, it also slowly chips away at the authority of professional staff.

The library’s connection to the county or city government can add extra layers of bureaucracy and control. That fold of the brochure issue I alluded to before is real. Our government has determined the acceptable brochure folds allowed by the agencies under its jurisdiction. Single-page flyers are fine, tri-folds are taboo. The paper airplane fold is cause for immediate dismissal. (Okay, I made that one up.)

Consistency does provide benefit and comfort. To return to the Subdays analogy, you know what you’ll find at each sub shop, whether as a customer or an employee. But in submitting the hummus to surveys and the liverwurst to public polling, we’re leaving out not only the diversity of the library, but also the power of making decisions that makes a job feel worthwhile. The public is important, no doubt, but there should be a balance between the desires of a demanding public and the needs of an educated staff. Ultimately, the customer will want both specific services and excellent staff. He’ll want to have his liverwurst and eat it too.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

posted on Friday, February 15, 2008 3:30:34 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [8]
 Friday, February 08, 2008

Previously, on Black History Month Picture Books, we covered the earlier part of African American history with fiction and non-fiction books that were educational while telling a good story. Now it’s time to march forward in time with historical fiction, biographies, and even poetry. Yes, even poetry.


Langston’s Train Ride by Robert Burleigh, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (2004) 978-0-439-35239-0

Fantastic illustrations by Leonard Jenkins make this book a pleasure to peruse, no doubt about that. But the reader will also enjoy being taken along on a journey with Langston Hughes as a young man. As he rides on a train across the country, he is moved by the crossing over the Mississippi River. Words and phrases rush into his head, especially the phrase, “I’ve known rivers.” This book is about personal history, about heritage, and about writing. The full poem, “A Negro Speaks of Rivers,” is included at the end of the book, along with a short biography of Langston Hughes.


Dizzy by Jonah Winter and illustrated by Sean Qualls (2006) 978-0-439-50737-0

With rhythmic—dare I say poetic—text, this book brings the world of Dizzy Gillespie to life for those who never experienced the musical revolution of the 1920s. This particular chapter in American history shouldn’t be passed by—and no one can afford to miss it with lively, fresh artwork and passages like, “It was like he had taken a wrecking ball / and SMASHED IN / The House of Jazz, / ’til the walls came tumbling down.”


Jackie’s Bat, by Marybeth Lorbiecki, illustrated by Brian Pinkney (2006) 978-0-689-84102-6

It’s 1947 and Joey is going to be a batboy for the Brooklyn Dodgers. He’s excited about it, but conflicted about the new player, Jackie Robinson. Joey’s father doesn’t think it’s right for a white boy to serve a black man, so Joey steers clear of Mr. Robinson. But as he continues his time with the Dodgers, he begins to see Jackie Robinson as both a baseball player and a man, which brings forth his own feelings of acceptance. The small story of one boy echoes the larger feelings of the world’s response to this revolutionary baseball player. The book includes some biographical information. The soft, watercolor illustrations complement the text perfectly.


Goin’ Someplace Special, by Patricia C. McKissack, illustrated by Jerry Pinkney (2001) 978-0-689-81885-1

It’s the 1950s and ’Tricia Ann is heading downtown in Nashville to go “Someplace Special.” Her grandmother is reluctant to let her go on her own, but when she relents, ’Trica Ann faces a journey of pride, humiliation, encouragement, and ultimately joy as she reaches her destination—the public library, open to whites and blacks alike. The injustices of the segregated south are made all too real with this likeable character facing off against the obstacles. Pinkney’s lovely watercolors bring just the right feeling of the era to the book.


Rosa, by Nikki Giovanni, illustrated by Bryan Collier (2005) 978-0-439-89883-6

The basic story of Rosa Parks is well known, but you’ll think you’re in for something different after seeing the cover of this book with the ominous man looking down at —the whole thing is so in-your-face and bold. The art in this book is evocative, gripping, and Caldecott Honor-winning. Rosa Parks’s personal story moves into her turning point in the civil rights movement and then continues beyond, covering many of the events surrounding her place in history. The text doesn’t complete her biography by any means, but does provide a starting place for discussion of her role and the larger context of the boycott.


Freedom on the Menu: the Greensboro Sit-Ins by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Jerome LaGarrique (2004) 978-0-8037-2860-8

Connie would love to sit down at the counter at Woolworth’s and have a banana split, but she knows that African Americans aren’t allowed to do that. Living in Greensboro, North Carolina in 1960, she knows her color dictates where she can drink and eat and much more. But things are changing in town with Dr. King’s speech at a local college chapel and Connie’s older siblings joining the NAACP. The paintings in the book capture the sense of emotion, as well as the more tangible evidence of segregation.


I’ve Seen the Promised Land: The Life of Martin Luther King, Jr. by Walter Dean Myers, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (2003) 978-0-06-027703-1

A straightforward and brief biography of a hero becomes much more than that in the hands of noted author Walter Dean Myers. The content is just enough to introduce young readers to Dr. King and to his accomplishments and struggles, but not get bogged down in many details. The basics of his personal journey are presented along with essentials of the civil rights movement itself. The text is well done, but it’s the illustrations—the powerful, dramatic art—that make this title extraordinary.

Of course, these books are the tip of the iceberg in exploring African American history, but hopefully will motivate young readers to learn more. And just as important, these titles could prove inspiring for teachers, librarians, and parents to seek out books that are not only good for the mind, but good for the soul.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

posted on Friday, February 08, 2008 3:03:43 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [2]
 Monday, February 04, 2008

This time of year I find myself feeling a vague discomfort. And, no, it has nothing to do with polishing off a box of Thin Mints in two nights. (Don’t judge me!) During the month of February my librarian version of “Spidey sense” is tingling with the vague knowledge that all over America, teachers, librarians, and parents are picking out boring books for Black History Month. I don’t blame them, because I’m sure they are not aware of some of the newer, spectacular titles that are perfect for exploring the history of African Americans. These books cover a broad range of ages in elementary school, but as picture books they keep the storyline tight and the art engaging. For teachers or librarians who want to take the opportunity to educate their students, or for parents who want to open up conversation about their heritage, these are books that don’t put forth pages of facts and dull pictures. No, these are the books that say, “Let me tell you a story.”

Henry’s Freedom Box, by Ellen Levin, illustrated by Kadir Nelson (2007) 043977733X

At a young age, Henry is given to his master’s son and begins work in a tobacco factory. Allowed to marry a slave of another owner, he is torn apart when his wife and children are sold. With the help of a white abolitionist doctor he arranges to have himself mailed to Philadelphia and to freedom. It’s a brave and dangerous escape, and is based on a true story. This book was a Caldecott Honor Book for Kadir Nelson’s stunning and evocative illustrations.

The Escape of Oney Judge: Martha Washington’s Slave Finds Freedom, written and illustrated by Emily Arnold McCully (2007) 0374322252

Oney Judge grew up as a house slave and seamstress for Martha Washington, living with the family in Mount Vernon and moving with the family to the new capital of the country, Philadelphia. As Oney grows into a young woman, she finds out that instead of being set free when her mistress dies, that she will be given to one of Martha Washington’s relatives. She decides to escape and free herself from the grasp of one of the greatest icons of American history. The watercolor and ink artwork complement the story perfectly, and additional information is provided about Oney Judge’s later life.

Only Passing Through: The Story of Sojourner Truth, by Anne Rockwell, illustrated by R. Gregory Christie (2002) 044041766X

Isabella lived a particularly difficult life as a young slave, having been sold three times before she was thirteen. At sixteen, she could do the work of a man, but was forced to marry so she could bear children. Living in New York, she was to become free in 1827 according to the law, though her owner tried to cheat her of her freedom. As she grew older, Isabella grew stronger in her desire to fight slavery however she could and she changed her name to Sojourner Truth and spoke out against the evils of slavery. The illustrations are abstract and interesting, as different and unique as the woman herself.

Night Boat to Freedom, by Margot Theis Raven, illustrated by E. B. Lewis (2006) 0374312664

At his grandmother’s urging, a young black boy rows other slaves across the river and to freedom. While John is strong, it’s thought that he is young enough that his absence at night will go unnoticed. Eventually though, he needs to make the journey to freedom himself and he’s not going without the older woman who has given him strength. Punctuated with passages where the grandmother sews a quilt based on the color the freed slaves are wearing, it lends a poetic sense to the phrase, “What color is freedom tonight?” The illustrations are stunning, bringing into focus the subtle shades of night and the sharpness of color. There’s a two-page spread of slave traders leading the younger Grandmother aboard a slave ship with promises of bright red flannel that is absolutely mesmerizing.

Moses: When Harriet Tubman Led Her People to Freedom, by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Kadir Nelson (2006) 0786851759

Steeped in the religion that formed a deep influence in her life, this book shows Harriet Tubman’s escape from slavery, led by the voice of the Lord. She subsequently is compelled to go back and rescue her family and numerous other slaves. The story is heavy in its religious tone, though appropriate in terms of her beliefs and experiences. The illustrations by Kadir Nelson are breathtaking, making the Caldecott Honor award for this book well-earned.

Martha Ann’s Quilt for Queen Victoria, by Kyra E. Hicks, illustrated by Le Edward Fodi (2006) 1933285591

In 1830, Martha Ann and her family bought their freedom, and with the assistance of the American Colonization Society, moved to Liberia to live. The children could attend school in Liberia, and they were finally free from slavery in America. Even after a deadly fever took away her mother and father, the children decided to stay in the country far from their home. When the queen of England sent ships to patrol the coast of Liberia to keep slave catchers away, Martha Ann made herself a promise to meet Queen Victoria someday. Through years of waiting and some hard times, Martha Ann never forgot her goal, and worked to make it come true. This book shows a different perspective on this time in history, and offers a lesson in reaching for our dreams.

Show Way, by Jacqueline Woodson, illustrated by Hudson Talbott (2005) 0399237496

This Caldecott Honor Award-winning book is a true stunner in both the illustrations for which it was judged and the text that shapes the stories of generations of African American women. Starting with Soonie’s great-grandmother, who was sold away when she was seven, and left her with muslin, two needles, and red thread from her mama, the story follows the trials and paths of the next seven generations up to the author’s baby. The story covers the “show way” quilts, which were sewn to give other slaves messages to help them on their journeys. The story goes along the path on the Civil War and to a time of reconstruction and then of civil rights. Throughout there are echoes of the quilts from that first piece of muslin and red thread. An amazing and moving book that may have readers tearing up at each repeat of, “Loved that baby up so. Yes, they loved that baby up.”

On Friday I’ll continue with picture books that cover the 1900s and the Civil Rights Movement. Until then, work on making sure the previous seven titles are part of your public, school, and/or personal library.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

posted on Monday, February 04, 2008 11:58:02 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [4]