A little fun for a Saturday night – my 14 month old son, Mir, exploring the piano in the common room at his Dad’s office. Music lessons may be in his future!
Mir, Me, & Melanie!

Mir & I get a makeover from bookseller extraordinaire Melanie at the Harvard Coop’s Mockingjay launch! And we made Publisher’s Weekly! Their caption? “At the Harvard Coop: It’s nice to see parents getting their kids reading early.”
@ PopMatters: Will Ads in Books Destroy the Industry or Save It? < PopMatters
With publishing numbers taking a nosedive, the industry is scrambling to find a way back to profitability. Could ads in books be the answer?Last week, MediaBistro’s GalleyCat and The Wall Street Journal reported on what may soon be a disturbing new reality for readers everywhere: ads. But advertising directly in books, print or otherwise, offers its own particular set of problems which may keep publishers from calling up their buddies in the biz anytime soon…
read more on Re:Print, the PopMatters books blog

At The NRI: Food = Love ?
I have a new post over @ The NRI, on food, love, and being Indian:
Why must my Indian aunts insist on cooking for me?
For me, traveling home is a fraught process. First there’s the cross-country flight, then the cross-Pacific flight, overloaded immigration queues, packed baggage carousels, and clearing customs with a small, worn out kidlet. And then comes the hard part: visiting extended family.
At PopMatters: Where Do Trends Come From?
My earlier *ILBNH* post on trends is over @ the PopMatters Re:Print blog this week. Drop by & join the discussion!
Vampires. Zombies. Sea monsters with an unfettered love of double java chip frappuccinos. In the book world, trends appear to come and go quickly—the Twilight vampire boom is already coming to an end, just five years after Meyer’s book hit shelves the world over. Five years? Although that may seem a long time, it’s really only two to three publication cycles. But where do trends come from? Do authors band together to write books of the same ilk? Or are they the result of a rare and spectacular cosmic boom?
At Guide to Literary Agents: How to BackUp Your Blog and Save Content
I missed posting this back when it was first up, because I was hiding out in Australia with zero internet access. If you’ve been wondering how to back up your blog, head on over for the details for Blogger, LiveJournal, & both WordPress options.
Blogging is hard work. Once you’re set up, there’s idea generation, writing, proofing, posting, and interacting with your readers, usually two or three times a week. And if you spend at least an hour a post (I spend an average of two), that’s, say three hours of work per week, twelve hours of work per month, and 156 hours per year—or thirteen twelve-hour days. If something happens to your blog, that’s an awful lot of work to lose.
Reading Kidlit: In Defense of Animal Fiction, part I
Animal stories are everywhere. Many classic tales are animal stories, from Aesop’s Fables through Charlotte’s Web. Yet there’s an idea in kids’ publishing, out there on blogs, in classes and speeches, that animal fiction is no longer marketable, and has gone the way of the cute little bunnies in Watership Down.
Despite the naysaying, though, animal stories continue to show up in bookstores–Erin Hunter’s Seekers and Warriors, Kathy Appelt’s The Underneath, and Brian Jacques’ latest Insert-Redwall-Clone-Title-Here are jockeying for shelf space alongside more so-called middle grade popular fiction. So what is it about animal fiction that sets industry folk on edge?
The Beatrix Potter Complex
Many classic animal tales, particularly Victorian stories, follow what I think of as the Beatrix Potter/Peter Rabbit paradigm: they blend the cuteness of anthropomorphic animals (usually woodland creatures) with starker realities, as if the fact that Peter wears a smart robin’s egg waistcoat makes it more palatable for his father to have ended up in Mr. McGregor’s stew pot. In the original Redwall , the war-like tendencies of the sparrows (sparra), the snake, Asmodeus, eating characters, and the concepts each represent are balanced by the fuzzy-wuzziness of the mice, badgers, et. al and their Arthurian style honor code.
In some cases, anthropomorphic animals serve a particular purpose. Jane Yolen’s picture book series How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight/Go to the Dentist/Go to School/&c? (illustrated by Mark Teague) puts dinosaurs in place of children, giving parents and children a way to discuss everyday activities and rules and express frustration. They also play to a child’s desire to be like a favorite character–Let’s brush our teeth like Stegosaurus!–in a way a book about another “every kid” may not.
Other times, animal characters acting like people provide more fun, accessible illustrations and stories. This isn’t to say stories have to have animal characters to be fun and relatable, but animal characters can certainly add an appreciable layer to an already strong story. In Edel Rodriguez’ Sergio Saves The Game, Sergio, a penguin, dreams of becoming a soccer star, but is woefully inept on the field. Taking on the keeper’s role, he works through his frustrations and practices until he ultimately saves the day, keeping the big bad seagulls from scoring a critical goal. Another penguin story, Tacky the Penguin (Helen Lester, illustrated by Lynn Munsinger), follows the aptly named Hawaiian-shirted Tacky, who is disliked by the other penguins for his loud habits and garish dress sense. But when hunters come, it’s Tacky who scares them off, and the other, stuffier penguins come to recognize the value of being an individual, and appreciating each other quirks and all.
In a similar vein to Yolen’s Dinosaur series, the animal character helps set up a distance between the reader’s life and the protagonist’s life. This sort of distance can be very important in issues books–it allows kids and parents to read and discuss problems, like belonging and bullying, without the frustration, or setting up possible feelings of inadequacy and the like.
Sometimes, though, the Beatrix Potter Complex goes a little far–animals in people clothing, eating people food, and acting cutesy merely for the sake of cuteness can be a warning sign of other problems in a manuscript, picture book and middle grade alike. In a long lost piece by a kids’ editor, the described a particularly frightening anthropomorphic chicken manuscript she’d received, handwritten on hot pink paper. The story? A little fried chicken drumstick is lonely and only wants to be eaten and loved, eventually finding home and happiness at a local KFC. Peculiar, slightly morbid stories aside, though, there are other, more tangible–and fixable–problems in many animal stories, such as:
- Cuteness carrying the story
- Two dimensional characters/stereotypical characters–fat, hoarding pigs, empty-headed sheep etc.
- No real story, merely walking through a jungle/farm/zoo setting or characters comparing notes
- Characters with no flaws/relatability
- Characters are too adult
- Stories are preachy or moralizing
Animals With Human Traits? Or Humans With Animal Traits?
As anyone who’s ever picked up a mythology book knows, history is rife with stories of half-animal, half-human creatures, from centaurs and minotaurs through Anansi, the West African/Carribean spider-god. In these stories, the lines are often blurred between animal and human characteristics, and the characters are usually imperfect or have a not-quite-fatal flaw. Stories are rarely cute, yet rarely moral in a religious or morality play style way. Interestingly–perhaps because of the sense of “other” or “not-like-me”–animal/human characters are often deeper, and more fascinating, than a reader might expect. Unlike other animal related stories, these books are not relegated to the picture book and middle grade set; most are YA or adult lit.
Examples of Human/Animal/Mythical characters in fiction
- Anansi in Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys
- Coyote & Raven in Charles DeLint’s Newford series
- Mermaids in Kathryn Lasky’s Hannah: Daughters of the Sea
Do you write animal fiction? Do you read animal stories? Or do you find them irritating? Can you think of any good examples?

New Post @ GeekaChicas–Geek Up Your Kids with this Superhero A-Z
Geekdom isn’t congenital–geek plus geek does not automatically equal geek. There are, however, many ways to encourage the kids to follow in your pencil-chignon Dalek loving shoes, starting with this ready-to-go superhero alphabet. Just don’t be surprised if, in a year or two, you’re met with an angry glare and some freaky adamantium action as your kidlet realizes you’ve created an unholy, unsanctioned alliance between the DC & Marvel universes…
Read more on how to Geek Up Your Kids with this Superhero A-Z @ GeekaChicas!
Writing YA: If It’s Paranormal, It Needs A Villain, Right?
Over the weekend, I read Sarah Mlynowski’s Magic in Manhattan series. Although technically not on the lookout for more books–the stack by my bed is about four feet high–I’m a sucker for remainder shelves the way some people (okay, me) are suckers for lost puppies. Every book deserves a home, and books 1 & 3 looked so funky yet so lost and forlorn among old cookbooks and craft sets that I just had to bring them home.
Here’s the Booklist blurb for Bras & Broomsticks:
When 14-year-old Rachel learns that Miri, her “vegetarian, socially inept little sister” and her divorced mother are witches, her reactions run the gamut from incredulity and annoyance that she isn’t similarly gifted to shrewdness as she plans how her sister’s abilities can be marshaled to solve a passel of problems. Can magic move Rachel to the popularity A list? Revive a fading friendship? Prevent her father from remarrying? Guarantee a date for the Spring Fling? Yes, . . . but not before Rachel and Miri learn the hard way that all spells have consequences. Despite the provocative title and Chick Lit-ish cover, this isn’t just another breezy teen read. Mlynowski has a real ear for dialogue, and she displays a keen understanding of teen mores as she pokes fun at high-school cliques. Several lovely scenes break up the comedy, including one in which klutzy Rachel revels in her newfound coordination and the pleasure of dancing. Rachel is sassy, self-absorbed, shy and insecure, and her concerns will be comfortably familiar to readers.–Chris Sherman
Where Did My Sabrina Go?
In the introductory chapters of B&B (and the ensuing books) the narrator, Rachel, uses familiar witch characters to drive her point home: Glinda (The Wizard of Oz), Hermione (Harry Potter), and Sabrina (Archie comics, the television show). To me, this is a little like playing “spot the odd character,” because Glinda and Hermione are both out to do good and defeat evil in some (loose) sense. Sabrina, on the other hand, is a teen witch living life, having fun, and trying to adjust to her powers.
Sabrina-style stories were popular as early as the fifties–Bewitched was a huge hit (and is still fun to watch, if you’re a Hulu user) because it used Sam’s witchcraft to create a small amount of chaos and wish-fulfillment viewers, particularly women, could relate to.
Expectations, Stereotypes, & Rules Oh My!
Although I read–and appreciate–a lot of fantasy and paranormal YA, B&B was a surprise. The writing is simple and chick-litish, and the story a relatively simple (insofar as teen life is ever simple) take on divorced parents and highschool popularity contests. But B&B, for all its fun and shininess, seems to break a cardinal rule of contemporary paranormal and fantasy YA: there’s no real villain.
Villains are a widely recognized standard in fantasy and, to some extent, paranormal novels. The hero/heroine needs someone to fight, someone to turn those newly minted magical powers or what-have-you on. The Lord of the Rings has Sauron, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe has the White Queen, Jadis. Newer books, like Harry Potter, and even those books with a strong romantic focus have a villain. Graceling (Kristin Cashore), The Mortal Instruments (Cassandra Clare) series, Lament, Shiver (Maggie Stiefvater), and The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins), despite their very disparate settings, use the villain as the impetus for change in a very similar way.
But fantasy and paranormal villains are not all created equal. While they’re expected as part of these genres, there isn’t one overriding stereotype (outside of the David and Leigh Eddings/Terry Goodkind style novels, anyway) for villains. But the expectation of a villain, a plot to take over the world/country/school/mysterious land, and a couple of yay-we-did-it kisses between the friends-who-want-something-more heroes has become so common it’s rare to see a YA novel without at least two of the above.
Common elements in YA fantasy & paranormal novels:
- Evil villain
- Redemption for villain
- Good v. Evil talk
- Magical powers
- Non-human characters (elves, goblins, ferrets)
- Fighting/action scenes
- Romance between best friends
- Romance between main character and annoying-forced-to-work-with character
- Hot Guy/Hot Girl who is secretly evil
- Hot Guy/Hot Girl who provides distraction/fuel for jealousy
- Love scenes
- World building, new world
- A skeptical character
- Religion/faith
A large part of the reason hero vs. villain stories have become so popular is television. Television, especially teen television, feeds on the book industry, magnifying (and often distorting) popular stories and styles. Teens with power, from secrets, money, or both (Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, Privileged etc) are everywhere; vampire spin-offs (True Blood, The Vampire Diaries) fill in the gaps. And villains, as any Buffy watcher can testify, make good tv.
Sabrina, Come Back!
Are villains in books bad? Well, yes, by definition (sorry, had to do it, sometimes I kill me). Generally speaking, villains–well crafted, three dimensional villains–are the stuff of excellent storytelling. But the current crop of good vs. evil books, while good reading, are also exhausting reading. Much as I love the moral dilemmas and grey areas such books often explore, I suspect the reason I read the Magic in Manhattan series in one weekend is because it was a relief, a return to light, fun fantasy I could read without a thinking cap.
Should we ditch thinking cap books altogether? Of course not (and not just because if we did, I’d be out of blog material). But Sabrina-style books have their own thought-provoking magic (pun fully intended). Sabrina-style novels are sort of like problem novels for reasonably well-adjusted kids, offering another look at common issues, issues as difficult as divorce, as marvelous as first love, as awful as first breakups in a safe, comfortable space. And while non-fantasy, non-paranormal novels can and do do the same thing, there’s something innately fun about magic and wishing and broomstick riding. I wish I could read more about it.
Do you have any favorite, lighter fantasy and/or paranormal books? Have you read the Magic in Manhattan series?








If the term “literary” frightens you, you’re not alone. It’s something of a buzz word, and a confusing one at that. Literary YA, though, is a little different to literary adult fiction–generally speaking, it’s more accessible, and a great place to get started if you’re curious about lit fic, especially if you love language. These novels run the gamut from fantasy through contemporary, some light, some dark, some in between, each with a strong focus on character. Some are closer to middle grade, but all will appeal YA lovers.
7. 