Common (Sense) Media

WE were delighted to read the letter from author Todd Strasser in the November School Library Journal about the marks his book received from Common Sense Media. The website's approach is less about the value of the total work than about searching out individual problems and concerns. This is a 'baby with the bathwater' attitude if there ever was one. Any reviewing forum has to work with a stable of varied -- and variable--reviewers. Generally there is a thoughtful editor assigning titles to individuals based on expertise or affinity. But at CSM reviewers are self-selected moms who seem to choose their targets pretty much based on an ax to grind. Hence the three "bomb" rating for "scary/violent" awarded to Are You My Mother? One wonders who is the one worried about being lost? Even more astonishingly delightful is the no big red lips for sexual content awarded to Twilight. Now there is a mom whose head is buried in the sand. Can one safely assume one's 4th grader will not recognize the sexual situations? Define the . . .

Please: use the site if you like to make decisions about what your child reads. But do not use the site to decide what other children read. Even better: read the book and decide for yourself.

Picturebooks Biz Bust

The Sunday papers bring news that publishers' profits from picturebooks are in freefall and that new offerings are to be cut back. Of course, the economy could be part of the problem, but the bigger concern is that young children are being pushed (too soon? by striving "helicopter" parents?) into reading chapter books. "Where the Wild Things Are is a nice enough little book, but it won't get you into Harvard, dear."

Miss Shelved has mixed feelings about this. Undoubtedly, student checkouts of picturebooks has been declining: users tend to be either kindergarteners or staff planning read-alouds. 1st graders are already being urged to move to the easy chapter section. There, readability is controlled, whereas picturebooks, despite their accessibility, may not always be particularly easy to read. It is a bit of a shame that we so quickly push children away from that section. In our zeal to promote literacy, we give the impression that picturebooks are babyish, which, as any aficionado will attest, is far from the case.

On the other hand, in our humble opinion, picturebooks are becoming a lot like baby clothes: the world would probably be able to keep on spinning if no new ones were made for a very long time. So many of these items (whether cutesie-poo dresses or baby bunny books) are of questionable design and quality, outgrown quickly, and not worth revisiting. They are chosen by adults and foisted on children, until the tykes are old enough to begin to form and communicate their own preferences, at which time a few favored items get used repeatedly and others ignored. Granted, there are picturebook staples more in the line with the basic white onesie: used until they fall apart and then replaced with the same again.

Our book order list, even for a small elementary school, will always include at least half a dozen classics being replaced. Recent such titles would include Anansi and the Moss-Covered Rock, The Lorax, Superhero ABC, and The Little Old Lady Who was not Afraid of Anything. Though the continued health of the publishing business is certainly of concern, we are not too sorry to have perhaps a slightly smaller list from which to choose. Perhaps the onslaught of celebrity titles and unneeded sequels will fade away. Perhaps art quality be become more selective. Here's to a healthy backlist and the best of the new. One can never outgrow a truly beautiful picturebook.

The iPads are here!

We have received our 30 iPads (thanks to our district's educational foundation) and prepped them for the first introduction to staff. At 8:30 this morning, 16 teachers answered the call to come in, play around, and check one out. Not a great turnout in a school with 26 classrooms, plus a dozen or more support teaching staff. But it's been a hard fall, what with building wide renovations -- which ran way over schedule (what else is new) -- including new interactive whiteboards that have been a serious source of frustration. So we prefer to view 16 as a great turnout.

A number of these intrepid souls also participated in a brief pilot last spring, thus were already eager to get their hands back on the iPads. Last spring these tools proved very popular with our most struggling students. There will be some happy little guys in the building today.

Hot apps: Dragon Dictation (wow!), Tell Time, and Chicktionary.

As we keep telling the classroom teachers (who range from the happy adaptor to the technophobe): iPads are so high tech, they're low tech. One really doesn't need to teach a child how to use it.

Thank You, Reader Advisors

Usually Miss Shelved has a full slate of books-to-read at hand at all times. This summer, however (due to a temporary misdirection of our review journal subscriptions) we ran a little short. Quelle horreur! Desperate to avoid running low during critical beach-reading season, we turned to our public library's webpage and sought out the reader advisory section. Well! Not only do our wonderful public librarians post extensive and thoughtful lists, as one knew they would, but provisions have also been made to allow "civilian" readers to share their passions.

Now, as with any open "wiki" system, there is gold and dross. A quick reccy down the postings may eliminate a few of the lists. One sensed that "awesum books i luv" was unlikely to appeal. But once one has honed in on subgenres of interest, or found favorite titles in common, one may find a few lists -- or better, a name or two with multiple postings (thank you, "JodiM") -- with lots of new ideas. Best of all are the old ideas. We were delighted to make the acquaintance of several authors, some in print for years, who had hitherto escaped our attention.

Potential posters are advised to stay focused. Narrow one's topic or genre: presidential biography or steampunk (not the too-broad biography or fantasy). Or take a favorite title and propose "read-alikes." And get off the beaten path. A reiteration of the NYTimes best seller list (yes, we are suitably impressed that you have read them...) is not terribly helpful. Annotations are a little more work but essential if one really wants to inspire new readers. Thanking you in advance --

O ye readers and writers, bless ye the Lord : praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye reviewers and enthusiasts, bless ye the Lord : praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye geeks and MMORPGers, bless ye the Lord : praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye librarians and techies, bless ye the Lord : praise him, and magnify him for ever.

Don't Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs. Worthngton

Why is it that authors are drawn, like moths to a dangerous flame, to depict the world of the theatre? And why is it that most do it so very badly? We just bailed on reading the latest Laetitia Talbot mystery (A Darker God, by Barbara Cleverly), unable to stomach further abuse of amateur theatrics. Could anyone who has ever set foot on a stage (even carrying a broom) believe an entire cast could carry on with no clue that an actual murder has been committed? Those bloodcurdling and totally unrehearsed screams and death rattle? Geoffrey (who else?) is overacting, again, darling! Amazing how a tailor's mannequin and wig look so completely, believably life- (or death-?) like. Must be the theatrical lighting. After all hell has broken loose and everyone onstage finally has noticed all is not well, yet another clueless character attempts to make his belated entrance, spouting poetry, huffy that his proper cue has not been uttered. Minutes after that, the director finally wades into the rehearsal, annoyed that everyone appears to be 'improvising' rather than sticking to the script. Worst yet, the detective steps out of the chorus and feels the need to introduce himself -- by name -- to fellow cast members with whom he would obviously have been rehearsing for weeks.

Authors who pride themselves on (and flaunt) the minutest details unearthed by their research into period or professional milieus trip themselves up the moment they step backstage. Why does a good ear go all to tin when trying to catch the tone of a realistic rehearsal or performance? One cannot imagine there is any lack of opportunity to observe the natives in their aboriginal state. Perhaps one might consider asking an insider to vet the copy before making a total shambles of it? After all, theatre folk are also in the business of creating alternate realities and are smart enough to know when they need to consult an outside expert. As a teacher, one is all too aware that anyone who has ever been to school fancies himself an expert at running one. Does a similar phenomenon occur when dealing with the theatre-going public? One shudders to think that, at least with mystery authors, this seems to be the case.

We have achieved iPad

Thanks to a generous grant from our district's foundation, our Media Center will be acquiring 30 iPads in the near future. We are interested in seeing how well they work for our smallest students (K-2) for whom a laptop is a tad delicate. We also hope to connect with those students falling behind and lacking engagement -- tactile learners, anyone?

But, in great part, we are interested in checking out how reading from an electronic tablet works out. Fear not! Miss Shelved fully expects a printed work of literature to be pried from her cold, dead fingers when the time comes to meet her maker. But we are ready to concede that electronic readers may have their place. College students spending $100-200 a pop for textbooks spring mostly easily to mind. Even K-12 textbooks would be nice -- if they are actually designed for reading online, not just digitalized images of pages that do not fit the screen. Our students' backpacks -- not to mention backs -- would be the better for it.

But most intriguing are the possibilities for class and small group reading. How many classrooms and libraries have bins and bins of "class sets" of ancient paperbacks. When investing in such a large number of copies, one can only imagine being swayed to make an easy choice. Don't go out on a limb, don't court a challenge, go for the least common denominator. Once purchased, there is a certain obligation to use the set, despite how uninspiring. How can one justify spending money on a new title before the old ones are worn out? With digital readers one can share a single digital purchase with as many readers as sync to the account-bearing server. Trust us: Miss Shelved checked this very thoroughly with her vendors. How lovely to spend $9.99, or even $19.99 and have a book students are keen to read -- and have enough copies for a literature circle or two or an entire class if need be. And if it is not one's cup of tea next semester, or next year, so be it.

Side issue: But WHAT (one may ask) about the CLASSICS? We bow to none in our appreciation of the classics of children's literature. However, like antiques of other kinds (and we use the term in all reverence and good intent) they go in and out of fashion. Many are, like other delicate items, designed for children to enjoy best under the direct supervision of a caring and responsible adult. This is where teachers get to indulge their own delight in sharing the text with students, so that intonation (and occasional sidebar discussions) might clarify dated or complex vocabulary and syntax. One hopes that old favorites will continue to entertain and enlighten children for years to come. But they are not always the best choices to encourage developing readers to go solo.

As school librarians, we cannot afford to be too snooty about children's choices. Yes, they will continue to sniffle along with us at Charlotte's death every year. But even avid readers will tear through a lot of potboilers on the way to fluency. Even better, there's a lot of really good writing for children coming out every year. With all the new ebooks available we can afford (now literally) to mix it up a little without lowering standards.

Summer Reading Time -- again, already

The time of year is fast approaching when librarians across the country are starting to think about the dreaded SUMMER READING LIST. It is a mixed blessing. Of course one wants our little darlings reading as much as possible over the vacation. Of course one has tons of wonderful suggestions for them. Still, no child in his or her right mind wants to read any book s/he thinks it required. Or educational. Or "at grade level." It is a delicate dance. The best research on developing readers suggests that children are most likely to read when possessed of materials they both can and want to read. And the "can" is stretchy -- amazing what leaps ability makes when matched with desire. And that is where the librarian comes in. Children's librarians live to spark that desire:

Adult librarians are like lazy bakers: their patrons want a jelly donut, so they give them a jelly donut. Children’s librarians are ambitious bakers: You like the jelly donut? I’ll get you a jelly donut. But you should try my cruller, too. My cruller is going to blow your mind, kid. -- John Green (The Future of Reading)

So, if one might offer a word or two of advice to ambitious parents: reading is not a competitive sport. It is a life's delight. Please do not obsess about reading "4th grade books" -- especially if your student is a second grader. Worried that your child is bypassing "good" literature? Read it to them. Worried that they read too much junk? Like you read Proust every night? In fact, try picking up the book about which s/he is so enthusiastic. We deigned to try Diary of a Wimpy Kid recently (how good could it be when everyone is reading it?!?) and were most pleasantly surprised. We laughed. A lot. Out loud. And kept reading. Isn't that the point?