My 2015 Caldecott Quandary by Jim Hill

It has been a fantastic, groundbreaking awards season for graphic novels. El Deafo was named a Newbery Honor, and This One Summer earned both a Printz Honor and a Caldecott Honor.

*Record scratch*

Wait, what? There’s a book that can get both a Printz–the YA award–and a Caldecott? The Caldecott? The one for picture books? For little kids? You’re seriously telling me this? Shut up.

Right? I thought the same thing. I hadn’t yet read This One Summer when the awards were announced. I had seen the cover, and thumbed through it at the bookstore, so I knew it to be a beautifully illustrated book. As soon as the snow stopped and the libraries opened again (hash tag snowmageddon), I got my hands on it.

The illustrations are fantastic. Evocative, well paced with an artful use of splash pages that break out of the panel format to mark chapter endings and important story points. It’s blue–a choice made in production by Jillian and Mariko Tamaki that, in my opinion, elevates the art and the emotional stakes while at the same time softening a sometimes difficult story by providing a little psychic distance for the reader. Blue is a calming color after all. It’s also entirely appropriate as it relates to the setting at Awago Beach, and the importance that water plays in the story.

So why don’t I love the idea that it received a Caldecott Honor? Age range and subject matter.

Let me try to explain. Um, justify. Er, rationalize. Crap, this is awkward.

The material in this book is not easy stuff. It’s a coming of age story that deals with newfound sexual desire, teen pregnancy, infertility/miscarriage, parental disharmony, and even touches on class/socio-economic issues.

So, first let me say, holy cow, well done Jillian and Mariko. This is great stuff, handled authentically, honestly, and experienced deftly through the eyes of the main character.

Slap two Printz awards on the cover, and call it a day. I am all in.

But the Caldecott? You’re killing me.

To me, and I’m willing to bet to most people, the Caldecott is the picture book award. I fear there will be censorship/banning discussions fueled by parents who are upset that this material landed in their children's hands by virtue of a sticker. One look at the negative Amazon reviews reveals exactly that. What boggles my mind about those negative reviews is the objection to language, not subject matter. But that’s an argument for another day–tentative title, “What’s Wrong with You? Words Are Not the Problem, You’re the Problem.” But I digress.

Technically, This One Summer totally qualifies for the Caldecott Honor. But emotionally? Instinctually? I think the committee misstepped.

Yes, the Caldecott's second criteria says, "A ‘picture book for children’ is one for which children are an intended potential audience. The book displays respect for children’s understandings, abilities, and appreciations. Children are defined as persons of ages up to and including fourteen and picture books for this entire age range are to be considered." But has there ever been one recognized that pushes that upper limit so hard?

Parents, teachers, and librarians are confused. That doesn’t help the credibility of the award. The negative Amazon reviews and this post (with subsequent discussion in the comments) on the Hornbook blog illuminate the issue nicely.

I don’t know. On the one hand, I am over the moon that graphic novels are getting attention, sales, and shiny award stickers. Cartoonist Dani Jones might have said it best on twitter:

In my wildest dreams of winning an Eisner, Caldecott, or Newbury, I thought I had to master 3 disciplines. Turns out I can just make comics.
— Dani Jones (@danidraws) February 2, 2015

And Matthew Winner, of the excellent Let’s Get Busy podcast, nails the reason we should all read El Deafo in his Washington Post op/ed piece.

Graphic novels matter. This is great. In an online discussion with alums and students of VCFA about this issue, it was suggested that maybe it's time for a specific graphic novel award. Not to eliminate graphic novels from contention for other awards, but to shine a light on them alone. Skip age ratings–that’s a big ol’ can of worms that almost no one can come to consensus on, but celebrate the writing, the art, and the storytelling for what it is by virtue of its unique format.

David Elzey suggested an excellent name for it: The PILKEY YANG award (for Dav Pilkey, Gene Luen Yang, naturally). Sounds good to me.

My thanks to that secret board of VCFA’ers for helping me clarify my thoughts, and a special shout out to Robin Herrara for rightfully turning me around on my second (undisclosed) problem with this award for This One Summer.

Do yourself a favor–read the book and make up your own mind.

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DISNEYLANDERS review and giveaway!

Congrats to Racheal Mcgillivary, the winner of this giveaway!  Racheal, I've e-mailed you to get your mailing address.

A bit about DISNEYLANDERS from the publisher, Theme Park Press: 

If you’re going to fall in love for the first time, where better to do so than Disneyland? In Kate Abbott’s debut novel, Disneylanders, Casey Allison meets the boy of her dreams in the Happiest Place on Earth.

But what should be a magical milestone turns into a coming-of-age catastrophe thanks to Casey’s overprotective parents, some park bullies, and her own insecurities.

Set entirely in Disneyland, and chockful of park trivia, Disneylanders is a unique, charming chronicle of a young girl’s first crush and her determined struggle to escape her cloistered childhood in a place where childhood lasts forever.

Sound like something you might enjoy?  Good news!  I have a copy of DISNEYLANDERS to give away to one lucky Project Mayhem reader.  To enter, all you have to do is follow Project Mayhem blog and then comment below on what you love about Disneyland!  This giveaway will be open until Friday 7/19.  

I (Marissa) had the fun of reading DISNEYLANDERS a few weeks ago.  I found it to be  a bit of a coming-of-age story, a peek at a few summer days in Casey Allison's life.  We meet Casey on the way to her family’s annual summer vacation.  She’s an almost-fourteen-year-old poised on the edge of teenager-dom, about to step from the confusing (and oh so familiar) pain of changing friendships into the realm of high school, boys, and parental conflict.  

At first, I found it easy to brush aside Casey’s tortured thoughts over her former best friend’s betrayal and her nearly-obsessive crush on Bert, the nice boy she bumps into in line for a ride, as self-absorbed inner monologue, the last thing I as a parent would think a tween should read.  But I think that’s the grown-up me talking, the one who has forgotten how consuming those emotions can be, how difficult it is to detangle from childish ways of relating to the world, and how painful the growing-up pains really are. 

I think Kate Abbott does a great job capturing how extreme everything feels when your whole world is in transition and the unknowns of high school and belonging loom large.  I was a little ambivalent about Casey’s character: at first, she felt a touch precocious, a lot self-absorbed and whiny, and had moments of superiority (e.g. her triumph over the Bra-strap girls) that were cloying.  However, as mentioned above, perhaps that’s more the unlikeable reality of being a preteen than the character herself.  (At least, when I re-read old journals, I discover thirteen-year-old-me to be a touch precocious, a lot self-absorbed and whiny, and with plenty of moments of superiority – ha!)  So, the parent in me cringed at parts and the tween in me gobbled it all up.

In the end, I found myself appreciating Casey’s journey of self-discovery and growth and – even as not the target audience - encouraged to step out of some of my own long-grooved ways of relating to, or hiding from, the community around me.  I have to say that the mom in me choked a little at the over-the-top sketches of parental geekiness, but this was somewhat redeemed by Casey’s newfound ways of relating by the end of the book.  Similarly, the relationship between Casey and Bert felt a bit uneven to me – starting out quite old and a bit too self-aware and then tapering off to what felt like a more age-appropriate whirlwind of first boyfriend, first date, first kiss.  Because of those elements, I’d put this book as an upper-middle-grade or young YA read.

Finally, the writing is very strong, and the setting, meticulously detailed and enjoyable.  I shut the book really, really wanting to go to Disneyland.  I haven’t been to there in about twenty years, but the descriptions were spot on.  As I read, I could smell the water at the Pirates ride, feel the air conditioning in the Space Mountain line and hear the sqwaking of the Tiki Room.  For that alone, it was a fun read and jaunt down memory lane.  I’m sure die-hard Disney fans will love that element even more.  

Thanks so much to Theme Park Press and Kate Abbott for sending me a review copy!

***

Kate Abbott is a former video game guidebook writer and editor, literary journal fiction editor, and contributing editor for a Disney park-focused newsletter.

She received an MFA in Creative Writing from UC Riverside, Palm Desert.

Kate lives in Sacramento, California, with her husband, son, terrier, and tiny parrots.

To learn more about Kate, visit her online at http://kateabbott.com/