An Introduction to Booklove

I came to children’s books only after my children were born and I began reading to them. I knew the classics, of course, Alice in Wonderland, Black Beauty, Tom Sawyer, and other books from the last century which were either written with child audiences in mind or so loved by young readers that they became known as children’s classics. But the stacks of books that my children and I checked out from the local library were new to me, and I found myself intrigued by tales of old men by the city gates who could turn into dragons, rabbits who col-lected eggs in the forest, Lew’s grandfather with the long white beard, boys with messy rooms, Pierre who did not care, and wild things and mousekins and unicorns and magic pots that boiled over and spilled pasta down the village streets. Great fun for my children. Great fun for me. As I read the stories over and over again, I noted the craft with which they were created, the sounds and sights that picture books offered, and the interest they generated in children who listened and demanded to hear the stories until they had memorized them. These books offered more than fun. They offered other worlds, real and imag-ined, worlds of comfort, beauty, adventure, terror, and reassurance. They presented characters, dreams, hopes, and intriguing puzzles that lodged themselves in the reader’s memory. Not only aspiring writers respond to children’s books with such enthusiasm. Over the years I have encountered similar reactions from writers, teachers, dentists, bricklayers, and a used car salesman. Something about children’s books gives a good feeling. It could be that these people all loved to read as children. Or it could be that the same hope and idealism that accompanies our contemplation of childhood applies to the books created for children. Hope in new life, hope in the future. Even parents who don’t themselves have time to read, have caught on that it is important their children read and so they supply them with books from bookstores, supermarkets, or libraries (not real-izing in their zeal that an even greater incentive would be for their chil-dren to see them reading).

Children’s books don’t just pop onto the scene, into our children’s lives by the magic tap of a wand. They require effort, labor, discipline, and investment of time and money; to endure, these books need people with vision, dedication, energy, and commitment. I’m not talking about the writers and illustrators alone, who come to mind initially. Something I heard and read repeatedly when I first began writing for children, and is just as true today, is that books for children are written by adults, illustrated by adults, edited, published, reviewed, and select-ed for bookstores, libraries, and schools, by adults. Children’s involve-ment, in reading or being read to, comes at the end of this process. That reality sparked the creation of Booklove.

Phoenix College Press was established in 1997 with the goal of pub-lishing high quality literary work that reflects community and involves collaboration. (E & L Books is now the literary imprint of the press.) When Lisa Miller and Ellen Palestrant, founders and publishers of Phoenix College Press, asked me at the end of 1998 if I would like to compile and edit a book on children’s literature, we began discussions which explored many avenues of children’s books. We decided to take a less-traveled route and to solicit the thoughts, concerns, and opinions of professionals in all aspects of the field of children’s literature. Editors, publishers, educators, librarians, and booksellers, as well as writers and illustrators, would be represented. We also sought the views of young readers who are, after all, the reason for the existence of the whole enterprise. We owe deep gratitude to all of the contributors, who took time from their busy schedules to reflect on children’s books today, to draw from their experiences and observations, and to organize their thoughts in essays or in responses to interview questions. Without them this book would have never advanced beyond the level of an interesting discussion.

Common themes wind through the pieces which follow: concern over the consolidations of publishers, which have occurred at a feverish pace during the past ten years; the demise of independent bookstores and the pressures generated on the remaining ones by the large chain stores; the power of the marketing department in deciding what is to be published and the resulting subservience of editors to marketing; tech-nology, which futurists tell us will replace the book with some other information delivery system; the dumbing down of education; children who slip through the system without learning to read or learning to love reading; and the need to turn off the television and the idiocies with which it insults our children. On a more positive note, in these pages are the conviction that reading is now more important than ever; with few exceptions children can be taught to read and respond enthusiastically to books that challenge their reading skills, expand their imaginations, tickle their funnybones, touch them, and make them think; writers and illustrators are committed to their craft and art and will never turn off their pipeline to the stories that arrive in their heads; editors and pub-lishers are looking for quality books that connect with young readers; and finally, the simplest of prescriptions: that reading to a child can lead a child to reading.

A possible subtitle for Booklove could have been “Voices from the Field.” Instead, an edgier phrase appears on the cover: Creating Good Books for Children in an Age That Values Neither. Contributors, prospective contributors, friends, and potential readers all reacted strongly to the subtitle when I told them about the forthcoming book. Half for: “Right on.” “I hope you keep the subtitle.” Half against: “But aren’t you being too negative?” “Children are highly valued nowadays. They’ve never had it so good.” Whether readers agree or not, I hope they will pause to consider what is meant by valuing children and how a cul-ture that values good books behaves. We do value children, of course. Our society is concerned about their health, their nutrition, their schools, and their security. Such con-cern appears in our laws, proclamations, governmental budgets, organi-zations, and public discourse. To compare with western societies a cen-tury ago, we find children living healthier lives and respected to degrees unthought of in earlier times. We are more conscientious, perhaps, and more aware. On the other hand, if we say that we want only what is best for children, then why do we permit them to be viewed as diminutive consumers ready to be brain-washed into brand loyalty for the rest of their lives? Why do we tolerate homicide by firearms and suicide to be among the leading causes of death among adolescents? If we care about children, shouldn’t we be dedicated to building good schools for all of them, schools where they can be challenged and motivated to aspire? Shouldn’t we wish for them the best books, unique books that speak to their needs, that stimulate, challenge, entertain, and respect their sensi-tivity, intelligence, and lack of life experience, not just books created on an assembly line and sold supermarket style with a shelf life of six months?

We at the turn of the 21st century are in no way less attentive to children’s needs than our forbears. On the contrary, we have pledged to protect, nurture, and educate our children and from this moral high ground, we need to hold ourselves to higher standards. We need to do better. And thus, the prickly subtitle. Like lime juice in a margarita, I hope its tartness will only enhance the flavor of the following words by people who love books deeply.

Many years ago an editor responded favorably to my query about submitting a story with an encouraging comment. Her words came to mind while I worked on this book and became a sort of mantra as deadlines loomed nearer. She wrote: “Since we are not a standard commer-cial publisher, the gates of opportunity open suddenly, and can close just as fast. Within that often limited space, we have to do all we can. Good luck to us all.”

Good luck, and good work, to those involved in creating books for children and to the young readers whose minds are hungry for good books.

Juanita Havill

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