Happy Job Drama
Jan. 20th, 2008 03:02 pmOh the drama! I do not want to read lots of new, intelligent, well-written but possibly very depressing young adult novels (lo, it is young adult novel awards season).
As an actual teen I did read a few "YA" authors: Chris Crutcher, Stephen Chbosky, Francesca Lia Block, even occasionally stuff by Ellen Conford. And I read fantasy authors generally shelved in the YA area, like Robin McKinley and Tamora Pierce. [This paragraph edited for my clarity 1/22/08]
But I never discussed it with anyone. YA books were a sort of private vice, since I knew that real reading was either classics/lit/poetry or else stuff for sub-culture bonding (fantasy, sf, comics). And my mom and her circle read comics and fantasy, so I could join in grown-up discussion about those.
My adolescent disconnection from YA lit meant that I only read stuff that a) appealed strongly to my narrative kinks, or b) was truly earthshakingly excellent.
The biggest downside to my job as a youth services librarian is that I have to read (and, often, recommend) books that are not earthshakingly good and/or do not feed my narrative kinks.
F'r'instance, 2 years ago when Francesca Lia Block won the Edwards award, I was full of joy. A favorite author from my teens, whose books are frequently challenged, getting some love. I went to the luncheon and got a nice book with a sticker to take home.
This year, Orson Scott Card won. I dislike Ender's Game with a fiery passion. Seriously, the book gives me cold shivers of loathing. On the other hand, is it important in the YA field? Oh, yes. And it definitely feeds the narrative kinks of a ton of teens, especially boy teens. I've found myself recommending it actively say, 4 times in the last 4 months. And had it ordered/checked out by a guy every one of those times. So I'm sure he deserves the award. And I've already read Ender's Game (for YA Lit) so at least the pain is over for me now. But there are dozens of other books out there, good books for Someone Who Isn't Me, and I will need to read them so that I can recommend them well. I'm so not looking forward to it. But I take the part of my job that involves connecting the right person to the right book at the right time seriously. And the way you avoid censorship and avoid limiting the type of person you can serve has to involve developing intimate knowledge of all kinds of books for which you [as professional] are the wrong reader at the wrong time. It is easy to skip this part of the job because a) I am not a teen/older kid specialist, so I could just read lots of stuff on how to do crafts/present picture books instead b) I am not paid for that time in my private life I give up to reading books that I loathe so that I can tell other teens that they might like them, and c) I am now condemned to carry images from "A Child Called It" around in my head for the rest of my life. blech. But at least 2 kids a week tell me how much they loved A Child Called It, and it is important that I a) have read it, and b) can recommend other stuff to go with it.
I think it's the little psychological stuff like that that changes a personal love of giving/sharing books into a professional career.
Editors, f'r'instance, don't just read and comment on books they love - they have to read and comment on all sorts of books that they don't enjoy at all, too. If they don't, they never find that new good unexpected book. If I don't, I never find that new, good, unexpected connection.
As an actual teen I did read a few "YA" authors: Chris Crutcher, Stephen Chbosky, Francesca Lia Block, even occasionally stuff by Ellen Conford. And I read fantasy authors generally shelved in the YA area, like Robin McKinley and Tamora Pierce. [This paragraph edited for my clarity 1/22/08]
But I never discussed it with anyone. YA books were a sort of private vice, since I knew that real reading was either classics/lit/poetry or else stuff for sub-culture bonding (fantasy, sf, comics). And my mom and her circle read comics and fantasy, so I could join in grown-up discussion about those.
My adolescent disconnection from YA lit meant that I only read stuff that a) appealed strongly to my narrative kinks, or b) was truly earthshakingly excellent.
The biggest downside to my job as a youth services librarian is that I have to read (and, often, recommend) books that are not earthshakingly good and/or do not feed my narrative kinks.
F'r'instance, 2 years ago when Francesca Lia Block won the Edwards award, I was full of joy. A favorite author from my teens, whose books are frequently challenged, getting some love. I went to the luncheon and got a nice book with a sticker to take home.
This year, Orson Scott Card won. I dislike Ender's Game with a fiery passion. Seriously, the book gives me cold shivers of loathing. On the other hand, is it important in the YA field? Oh, yes. And it definitely feeds the narrative kinks of a ton of teens, especially boy teens. I've found myself recommending it actively say, 4 times in the last 4 months. And had it ordered/checked out by a guy every one of those times. So I'm sure he deserves the award. And I've already read Ender's Game (for YA Lit) so at least the pain is over for me now. But there are dozens of other books out there, good books for Someone Who Isn't Me, and I will need to read them so that I can recommend them well. I'm so not looking forward to it. But I take the part of my job that involves connecting the right person to the right book at the right time seriously. And the way you avoid censorship and avoid limiting the type of person you can serve has to involve developing intimate knowledge of all kinds of books for which you [as professional] are the wrong reader at the wrong time. It is easy to skip this part of the job because a) I am not a teen/older kid specialist, so I could just read lots of stuff on how to do crafts/present picture books instead b) I am not paid for that time in my private life I give up to reading books that I loathe so that I can tell other teens that they might like them, and c) I am now condemned to carry images from "A Child Called It" around in my head for the rest of my life. blech. But at least 2 kids a week tell me how much they loved A Child Called It, and it is important that I a) have read it, and b) can recommend other stuff to go with it.
I think it's the little psychological stuff like that that changes a personal love of giving/sharing books into a professional career.
Editors, f'r'instance, don't just read and comment on books they love - they have to read and comment on all sorts of books that they don't enjoy at all, too. If they don't, they never find that new good unexpected book. If I don't, I never find that new, good, unexpected connection.