Luckily, early in my doctoral program my advisor asked me to be a graduate assistant for his Teaching Literature for Preservice Teachers course, and on his syllabus was American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang. Reading that exquisite story began the evolution of my perspectives on graphica, and I expanded my YA reading list to include more of it. I now find myself gravitating toward YA graphica selections, especially after reading the scholarship of and conversing with colleagues such as Stergios Botzakis and David Low. So, all this background is meant to push those readers who consistently bypass the graphic novel and manga section of their local bookstore or have as yet attempted to include such selections in their curriculum. Or, at the least, refrain from passing judgement on both young and adult readers who intentionally choose these books over others.
 
To get you started (or, for those readers already reading graphica on a regular basis, some selections to add to your to-read list), here are some of the highlights from my book stack this past semester. ​

Pashmina by Nidhi Chanani
This story of female empowerment should resonate with many young women trying to navigate the pressures related to womanhood and adolescence in both school and society. I particularly appreciated that all the main characters were women, so that their voices prevailed and appropriately limited the voices of male characters due to the thematic focus of the story. Also, the illustrations are clean and expressive, reminding me of the work of Vera Brosgul and Faith Erin Hicks (who are, unsurprisingly, also First Second illustrators). The decision to switch from grayscale when Priyanka was in the “real” world to vibrant color when she (or other characters) entered the “pashmina” world created a surreal feel for the special world. This shift in color also helps the reader understand how entering the pashmina world heightened Priyanka’s senses and feelings for India. Finally, and perhaps most important, Chanani has written a story about young women of color with Indian/Indian American backgrounds—a character that is unfortunately rare in children’s and YA literature. I imagine that youth with similar cultural backgrounds to Priyanka and her relatives would appreciate the opportunity to see someone like them and their families in a story written for youth. The story also provides a window into Indian/Indian American traditions that would help youth of other backgrounds learn about Indian/Indian American culture, issues, and successes. 

​Louis Undercover by Fanny Britt (Author) and Isabelle Arsenault (Illustrator)
Be forewarned: this is a story about melancholy. The main character, Louis, is grappling with understanding his parents’ strained relationship while essentially raising his younger brother because of their relationship struggles. Yet, it is an important story about alcoholism, depression, and family dynamics that asks difficult questions of the reader. Louis’s endurance, along with his continued support for his brother’s endurance, is actually uplifting, and illustrates how one can find personal success in even the most difficult situations. Britt and Arsenault chose to use an oversize presentation—the book is roughly 10 by 12 inches—which I liked because it provided more space for Arsenault’s broad landscapes and larger closeups on the faces of individual characters. Arsenault also chose to use color only for the background and not the characters, which reveals their seemingly lack of definition, which greatly contributes to Britt’s character development through her narration. Again, this story is both heart-wrenching and up-lifting, which good stories tend to be. And, yes, the raccoon on the cover plays a role in the plot.

​The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang
When I first picked up this selection by Wang, I was sure that I would not enjoy it. The cover features a young couple, a royal prince and a girl clearly from a lower-class status embraced in a dance, enveloped by a sweeping dress. So, I assumed it was a typical fairly tale story of the unexpected princess. I was very wrong. Yes, the boy on the cover is a rich prince, Sebastian, and the girl on the cover is a poor dressmaker, Frances, but that is where the fairy tale similarities end. Sebastian enjoys wearing dresses and explores the Paris nightlife and fashion scene as Lady Crystallia, his alter ego, and Frances creates his extravagant dresses. As one might expect, Sebastian hides this aspect of his identity from his parents, who are determined to find a match in marriage for the young prince. Wang’s artwork is as beautiful as Lady Crystallia in her dresses made by Frances. The lines sweep the reader through the story and the color choices are vibrant. I think this story represents diverse sexual orientation positively, although I know that some view the ending as a bit unrealistic (as the linked Kirkus review indicates), but that one critique is not enough to avoid including this novel on your graphica shelf. 

​Sanity & Tallulah by Molly Brooks
This selection is the first in a series about the adventures of two girls living in a distant space station. Sanity is a budding scientist and Tallulah is her inquisitive, supportive best friend. They decide to create a three-headed cat—breaking the strict rules about such scientific experiments—which, of course, promptly escapes and havoc ensues across the space station. Despite their parents’ repeated directives to stay out of the way, the girls continue to investigate because of their belief that their cat-creation is not the root of the station’s malfunctions. I greatly appreciate the diversity of the characters, in terms of race, gender, and (dis)ability, as well as the presentation of women in science-based roles. The premise has great possibility to interest young readers, especially those that enjoy series and/or science fiction. In my opinion, Brooks’s made some questionable decisions in her artwork, as it comes across as overly one-dimensional and her choices on representing skin color might make some readers uncomfortable. However, such representations could present productive opportunities to discuss such issues around race and ethnicity, and her choices do not detract from the overall “cool” story and setting. 

​Soupy Leaves Home by Cecil Castellucci (Author) and Jose Pimienta (Illustrator)
There are many reasons I would recommend this book, beginning with the historical 1930s setting, which exposes young readers to an important time period in U.S. history. I imagine teachers could pair it with other YA novels about the Depression Era, such as Karen Hesse’s Out of the Dust, to create a robust interdisciplinary curricular unit spanning both English language arts and social studies. The primary plot of a young girl, Soupy, overcoming an abusive father and finding intergenerational friendship is not only engrossing, but also informative about the issues associated with domestic violence—particularly how the issue was viewed in the 1930s and how perspectives on this issue have shifted in our contemporary society. I also like Ramshackle’s, the older hobo that befriends Soupy on her travels, wondrous view of life and the world. He plays an almost sage-like character that shows the hurting Soupy that beauty and hope still exist, which helps her understand what she needs to do to heal. Finally, Pimienta’s illustrations are fantastic. His use of a shifting color palette—often changing from panel to panel—functions to provide mood for the story and evoke feelings in the reader. His illustrations also serve as a vehicle to drive the plot since Castellucci took a minimalist approach to providing narrative text and character dialogue for the reader. As well, his sweeping landscapes and the magic realism of his illustrations show the reader the romanticism that is often associated with the “hobo lifestyle.” Soupy Leaves Home is an important contribution to graphic novels written for youth.

Grand Theft Horse by G. Neri (Author) and Corban Wilkin (Illustrator)
My final suggestion is this nonfiction selection that tells the story of the first person in California to be charged with grand theft horse in over 70 years. Gail Ruffo is a thoroughbred trainer who advocates for more humane treatment of race horses, and developed a training regimen that both prepared her horses for racing and protected their health. She was both trainer and part-owner of a young thoroughbred that developed a leg injury. Her co-owners wanted to push the horse to race despite her strident objections, so she decides to move (and hide) the horse without their permission. Their arguments gradually lead to Ruffo being charged with grand theft horse by the state of California. As the story unfolds, the reader learns about the issues of money, power, and privilege associated with our legal system, as well as the problems with the treatment of race horses. Wilkin’s illustrations are straightforward but expressive, especially the emotions felt by both humans and horses throughout the story. Anyone interested in advocating for the humane treatment of animals will enjoy this story. 

This week I revisit ALAN 2018. It was a great experience! I made new friends! I heard great keynotes, panels, and conversations. Now, I have to try to do what Mark and host of others before me have done as President. Wish me luck and more importantly, send me ideas and offer to help. One moment in the event that I will remember is the opportunity to introduce Ellen Hopkins and Kody Keplinger. I allude to this conversation a couple of weeks ago when I was still planning for it. Their discuss of guns and gun violence was excellent.  

Before we look to far into the future, let's look at what happened. Quite a few people have sent me a paragraph and a photo that highlights their experience. I also have to give a shout out to Noah Shaffer, several of these photographers were taken by him, but some where true selfies or shots taken on phones by friends.

From Steffany Maher
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There were many powerful moments at the ALAN Workshop this year. For me, though, the most poignant was Bill Konigsberg’s vulnerable speech, in which he shared his triggered moment at NCTE (see “Proud Fierce Papa Bear” at billkonigsberg.com). Not only was Bill brave in standing up for LGBTQ+ young people and confronting the panelist who was harassing marginalized people, but he also demonstrated how to stand against hate speech, thus empowering others to do the same. Bill writes books that save lives—already a super power!—but this weekend he was a hero in person as well. Thank you, Bill!

From Jayna Zimmerman

Going to ALAN for the first time was extremely exciting. No matter how much I was prepared for book box…the generosity of the publishers blew me away. Perhaps the best part of the workshop was listening to Ellen Hopkins discuss gun violence with Kody Keplinger. Both women bring a unique perspective to the trauma of gun violence our nation is experiencing. Through People Kill People (Hopkins) and That’s Not What Happened (Keplinger) center on opening conversations about violence and the accessibility of firearms. I deeply appreciated being in a conversation and having resources I can use in the classroom to navigate a challenging topic with students. I can’t wait to set up another trip to ALAN!--

From Stefani Boutelier

ALAN18 was my first workshop and it was quite the (overwhelming) experience. Aside from the books, trading, and signings, the experience of hearing authors talk about their books intrigued and excited me. I found Bill Konigsberg's speech the most compelling as it left me in tears and reminded me how powerful words can be in conversation and in text. Adolescent literature can be the catalyst to connect with students, allowing us to open minds and open hearts along the way. I look forward to reading the texts and sharing the ideas from ALAN with my students.

From Joe Godina

I have been attending the ALAN Workshop since 2013 and it is always the highlight of my school year.  I will be forever grateful to all the people who work so hard to put on this incredible event.  Thanks to the publishers I am able to bring back so many books to my classroom to share with my students.  Each year I come back to school refreshed and ready to conquer the world again.  For me, the highlight of ALAN18 was getting to meet Gae Polisner.  I have been teaching her novel The Memory of Things for the last two school years and her and I have become friends over this time.  ALAN18 provided me with the opportunity to meet Gae face to face for the first time.  This is the magic of ALAN, connecting teachers to the authors they share with their students.  

From Celeste Trimble

One of the highlights of my experience at NCTE/ALAN 2019 was listening to Cynthia Leitich Smith's ALAN keynote and sitting down with her over coffee afterwards to talk. Although there was a dearth of Indigenous voices during NCTE, Cyn brought many Indigenous authors and illustrators into her slides, lifting them up while discussing her own journey as a writer. Additionally, it was important to see her model how she is learning from her own mistake of not supporting Indigenous narrative conventions in a writing workshop, because we all have mistakes we need to admit and grow from. Thank you, ALAN, for inviting her and giving her the space to discuss the incredibly vital and often neglected work of Indigenous authors and illustrators of literature for youth. 

From Josh LaRoche

As a first time ALAN attendee, I am amazed and lost with the event and people. I was invited to a meet and greet reception with the authors. For me this was more of an experience in being a wallflower. I am not what one would call a “mingler.” There were two authors that I easily struck up conversation with, David Bowles and Destiny Soria, but that was mainly out of me standing in the right place and asking who they were and what they wrote – yea I never heard of them or their work, which will hopefully change when I can afford their works or visit a library.
When the conference started Saturday morning, I laid out the contents of my mystery box-o-books and stared at titles and authors as some of the authors in my box appeared on stage. I only have one of those books that I decided to wait in line to have signed, People Kill People by Ellen Hopkins, since I read a little of the author note and the first few pages. This book is slated as number two on my reading list of this box.  For number one, I found the book Nyxia by Scott Reintgen, which fits into my sci-fi preference for personal relaxation reading. This book intrigues me especially since, in the realm of my reading, not many books seem to have a main character that happens to be black. ​

​The first book we chose was Prisoner B-3087, primarily because Noah is a history buff. Based on the true story of Jack Gruener’s experiences in 10 concentration camps during WWII, this novel appealed to Noah’s interest in history and seemed similar to his favorite childhood series, I Survived. Another consideration was the novel’s Lexile level, which was lower than Noah’s own score. Since this novel was geared toward 5-8th grade students, I knew it would not be too demanding for my son, who was just beginning the 6th grade. I hoped choosing a less difficult text might “hook” him into the plot without him stumbling over unfamiliar vocabulary or complicated syntax.

As fate would have it, Noah’s school sponsored a book fair shortly after he had finished reading Prisoner B-3087. At the fair, Noah recognized Gratz’s name on the cover of Project 1065 and wanted to read his new book. I was thrilled that he had found an author he liked, so we made Project 1065 our second novel on his reading list. Set in World War II, this story is not based on a real-life event. Rather, it is a fictionalized account of one boy’s infiltration of the Hitler Youth in Germany. Part spy-thriller, part action-adventure, the plot is fast-paced, which I hoped would allow him to get swept up in the excitement of the story and have fun reading.

Seeing how much Noah gravitated toward historical fiction, I searched for another novel with an action-packed plot that was also more realistic than Projekt 1065. One of my teacher-friends recommended A Night Divided. I liked the fact that this novel, unlike the previous two, focused on an event in history that was not as widely studied in school as the Holocaust. Set in Berlin during the construction of the Wall, this novel chronicles one family’s experiences as they are separated between the East and West sides.  In addition to describing this family’s struggle to reunite, the novel also wrestles with concepts such as patriotism, loyalty, and intellectual freedom.  

Now that I knew how much Noah liked realistic fiction, I wanted to find a novel that relied less on dramatic plot lines and more on character development. Based on his previous reading experiences, he seemed intrigued with how wars impacted families and adolescents. I was interested in having him explore this theme in a contemporary setting. The Saturday Boy was the perfect choice. This coming-of-age novel focuses on Derek, whose father is a helicopter pilot serving in Afghanistan. Through Derek’s eyes, readers see how separation affects those military family members left behind. Additionally, the novel addresses overarching themes related to adolescence, such as belonging, friendships, and peer pressure. Themes, I thought, that might be relevant to Noah as he adjusted to middle school.

By this point in our book quest, Noah admitted that he actually was starting to like reading. Instead of searching for his next book myself, I told Noah to explore selections in his school’s library. Now that he had a sense of some authors, genres, and topics that were interesting to him, I was eager to see what he would choose to read for himself. His choice: Bystander. Focused on bullying, this novel portrays how the roles of “bully,” “bystander,” and “victim” can blur. Personally (as a former middle school teacher and parent to adolescents), this novel raises several issues surrounding bullying, which need to be discussed with students. Yet, I do not feel that the novel’s resolution provides an adequate solution. For me, this is a good book for simply raising awareness and starting conversations.  

Many young adult authors have tackled war from the perspective of a soldier, although few have done so with the skill of Walter Dean Myers. His book, Fallen Angels, published in 1988 has arguably achieved the same status for young adults as Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried has for adults. Fallen Angels tells the story of Perry, a young man from Harlem who can’t afford college, so he enlists in the Army and is deployed to Vietnam. He and his platoon, a colorful and realistically drawn set of characters, confront the horrors of Vietnam and combat against the NVA and Vietcong forces. Throughout, Perry struggles to find redeeming qualities in himself and in his fellow soldiers at the same time as he questions the role of African-Americans in the Vietnam conflict and the US involvement in the war.
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Myers’ book is a masterful examination of the horrors of war and the impact that being a party to violence has on Perry, who narrates the story. The book mirrors the experience many have shared of war: long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief, adrenaline-filled bursts of combat. Myers’ writing throughout is honest and engaging, and in Perry he draws a bright young man who is acutely aware of his perilous place as an African-American in the Army and critically questions the value of war in general and the Vietnam conflict specifically.

Sunrise Over Fallujah follows Robin Birdy Perry, the nephew of the narrator of Fallen Angels, who enlists in the military after witnessing the events of 9/11. Deployed to Iraq, he’s assigned to the Civilian Affairs Battalion who are supposed to help secure and stabilize the country and win the hearts and minds of the Iraqi people. While his unit isn’t technically assigned to a combat role, Robin sees the horrors of war as his unit is attacked several times (including by the civilians whose hearts they’re trying to win) and is even given a dangerous, highly political assignment where he’s wounded. As the book ends, he’s headed to Ramstein in Germany to be treated for his injuries.

​Again, in Sunrise Over Fallujah, Myers draws realistic characters in settings that complicate simple attitudes about war, the soldiers who fight, and the civilians caught in the middle. Robin struggles to deal with the abrupt and seemingly senseless loss of fellow soldiers he’s become close to and is haunted throughout the book by the conflict he sees and feels between the altruistic mission of the Civilian Affairs Battalion and the violence in which that mission takes place. 

Other writers broaden our perspective on war by focusing their narratives on the lives of those left behind or those trapped in the middle of conflicts. Dana Reinhart’s book The Things A Brother Knows looks at the experiences of a family waiting at home for a soldier son to return. After three years deployed to the middle east, Levi’s brother Boaz returns home, but he’s not the same. Boaz spends most of his time by himself in his room, walks anywhere when he does leave because he refuses to get into any car, and spends inordinate amounts of time online looking at maps. When Boaz announces that he’s leaving to walk the Appalachian Trail, Levi knows something’s up; using notes Boaz left behind, Levi figures that he’s headed to Washington, DC and decides to intercept Boaz on his walking trip. While Boaz isn’t happy at first to have his little brother tagging along, he grudgingly accepts him and the two visit the families of fellow soldiers still deployed and vets who returned before Boaz. They end up visiting one of Boaz’s closest friends, a fellow soldier who lost both legs in combat. Along the way, Levi comes to better understand the nature of Boaz’s experience as a soldier and learns that Boaz still cares deeply for him.

​The Vietnam war is a popular topic for young adult literature, with most of the books about it being written from a Western perspective. One significant exception to this is Inside Out and Back Again, by Thanhhah Lai, a book that’s likely familiar to readers of this blog (but still worth a mention in this context). This is an autobiographical collection of prose poems that tell the story of Ha, a young girl living in Saigon when the war breaks out. Her father is fighting in the South Vietnamese army, and as the fighting threatens to overwhelm Saigon near the end of the war, Ha’s family must make the heart-wrenching choice to leave Vietnam for America. They resettle in Alabama, and Ha faces prejudice and bullying as she adjusts to her new life.

​Boots on the Ground by Elizabeth Partridge takes a unique approach to a war that many young people may either be unfamiliar with or have simplistic interpretations of. Partridge organizes the book around people involved in the war, including regular, every day troops and central figures like JFK or LBJ. When she tells the story, for instance, of Mike Horan, a military advisor sent to Vietnam early in the conflict, it’s clear that she’s carefully interviewed Horan and captures his story in his own words, including his own doubts and concerns about the conflict’s early days. Her portraits of prominent figures like Johnson or Kennedy are drawn from primary sources (including White House audio tapes and even Kennedy’s own Dictaphone recordings). Together, these give the book a very real feeling, and Partridge does not gloss over the difficulties and self-doubt that soldiers and leaders alike faced in the Vietnam conflict. And the individuals she’s chosen represent some careful thinking: The book includes an interview with a protest singer, a nurse, and a Vietnamese refugee, thus striving to present a broader view of the war and its impact on many different people.

​Russell Freedman’s book, Vietnam: A History of the War, similarly refuses to shy away from the complexities of this conflict and war in general. He begins the book with a succinct history of colonial conflicts in Vietnam that set the stage for Ho Chi Minh and the Communist uprising. In telling the story of the Vietnam war, Freedman incorporates many materials from primary sources, including communications between US government advisors and presidents as well as communiques from the North Vietnamese leaders. His treatment of the war shows the benefit of the decades that have passed and the clarity of hindsight; its greatest strength lies in Freedman’s ability to distill complicated events and political conflicts in a way that doesn’t overwhelm readers but still gives them a clear understanding. And he is unflinching in his critique of American policies and Communist totalitarian practices during and after the war. His final chapter is perhaps what draws me most to this book. Titled “Reconciliation,” Freedman begins the chapter with a description of a modern-day Vietnam with a thriving market-based economy and normalized relationships with the United States and then considers the war in retrospect, including quotes from many political and military leaders outlining why the US failed in Vietnam. He concludes the chapter by highlighting the ways that the two countries have overcome the mistrust and bitterness that were the natural fallout of the conflict in that country. (Freedman passed away earlier this year, leaving behind a considerable legacy of historical writing for young people.)

Although it was published over 40 years ago, Stephen King’s novel Carrie is still an accurate representation of the experience of being the bullied and slut-shamed girl in high school (minus the protagonist’s telekinetic abilities). Carrie, who is described as “the sacrificial goat, the constant butt, believer in left-handed monkey wrenches, perpetual foul-up,” is the most bullied girl in Chamberlain, Maine. Carrie’s outsider status is due mostly to her mother’s religious mania. It’s bad enough that Margaret constantly tells her neighbors that they are backsliding and hell-bound due to their comparative secularism. Margaret also raises Carrie in a way that makes it difficult for her to fit in with her peers.
Carrie is teased by her peers on the first day of school after she naively prays before eating lunch. Also, Margaret makes Carrie wear skirts that are too long or plain to be fashionable, and prohibits her from wearing bright colors, especially red, which Margaret describes as the color of sin, and Carrie must make a special effort to have a passing understanding of popular culture as there is no television or popular magazines in the house, and Carrie can only listen to popular music on the radio when her mother is not home. Even mirrors are forbidden in the White household, and Carrie is allowed only the most rudimentary grooming products, so as a teen, she is a “frog among swans” with her greasy, lifeless hair and acne.
But worst of all, Carrie is not safe at school or at home, where she faces verbal and physical abuse of some sort from everyone, including her mother. At home, Margaret routinely locks Carrie in the closet for hours to “repent for her sins” after the slightest disobedience or beats her. At school, the bullying she endures ranges from name calling to being tripped in the aisles and having her books knocked out of her hands by other kids. The emotional harm done to Carrie by her mother and peers is compounded by the location of the story, the small town of Chamberlain, Maine, and prevailing attitudes about bullying and child abuse at the time.
Chamberlain is so small that she cannot escape her tormentors by simply changing schools. Also, in the 1970s, neighbors rarely intervened in suspected cases of child abuse, believing that a parent’s disciplinary practices were none of their business, and school administrators were not trained to spot the signs of abuse and had little knowledge of the lasting harm it does. Bullying too was mostly ignored in the 1970s, when experts still believed that it was best for children to sort out their own problems by confronting their bullies, not realizing or caring that this is not an option for many victims.
So Carrie’s resulting anger on Prom Night after her peers’ play the most cruel joke on her yet is not surprising. Carrie’s telekinetic abilities, that are unknown to her peers, or even fully to Carrie until her sixteenth year, give her the ability to translate this anger into violence—and she literally burns the town to the ground before the exertion required to use her mind to move matter to this degree is so stressful on her heart that she dies.

King’s novel is superior to Brian de Palma’s 1976 film of it, which the novel’s paramaterial. Carrie’s story is not written as one, fluid account related in the first-person or by an omniscient narrator. Instead, King tells the story of Carrie in retrospect, after various experts and journalists have investigated the event and weighed in about the event. A combination of scientists and experts in the paranormal agree that Carrie’s powers were a one-off, and so the world is safe after her death. Their conclusion is typical of stereotypical horror of the time, where the monster is always vanquished. However, Carrie’s last pages resist narrative closure in the form of a poorly spelled letter from an Appalachian woman describing her infant to her sister. The child shows signs of being telekinetic, a trait she has inherited from her female relaitves, as the letter’s writer makes reference to a grandmother who had the same ability, though she did not use her powers to kill anyone. Because this girl lives in a part of the United States that is underserved by medical and scientific experts, it is possible that she might develop her telekinetic abilities before anyone who could understand their dangers might intervene. 

The Girl with All the Gifts is a retelling of the zombie apocalypse along George Romero’s (Night of the Living Dead, 1968) and Richard Matheson’s (I Am Legend, 1945) pandemic models. However, the zombie in this case is not a devolved form of our species who have been turned into mindless consumers (of flesh), but a post-human creature whose emergence is a positive evolutionary leap, though it still brings about the fall of civilization and the death of most of the human race.
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In The Girl with All the Gifts, most humans have become infected with a fungus that turns them into mindless fiends whose strongest drive is to consume human flesh. Just the smell of human saliva can provoke one infected, or “hungries” as they are called, into a feeding frenzy. Anyone bitten by a hungry but not killed will also turn into a hungry, although one does not resurrect as a hungry after dying from natural causes. A team of scientists led by Dr. Caroline Caldwell are holed up in a bunker with a set of special captive hungries, those who were born to mothers who were infected during their pregnancy, and who have matured as human children do and seem capable of learning. The early adolescent hungries are taken from their cells every day in restraints and placed in a classroom to be taught by Miss Justineau so that the head scientist can determine which hungries are the smartest and then euthanize them and dissect their brains in order to find a vaccine for the remaining number of the living who are uninfected.

The precocious Melanie is Dr. Caldwell’s next target as she is much more intelligent than most humans. She can effortlessly memorize complex facts such as the chemical composition of a compound, and she is also able to understand the Greek mythology that Miss Justineau teaches the class and use it to inspire a story of herself as a modern-day Pandora, as well as a new type of being who transcends biological categories in order to save her beloved teacher from other hungries. Miss Justineau, the only human character in the story who cares about her charges, is so moved by Melanie’s story that she touches the girl on the head, which prompts the guards to sweep into her classroom and haul her away for punishment, and then take Melanie to the lab for dissection.

This is an old novel, and certainly not as genre-defining as King’s Carrie, but it’s one of the best works of horror that I have ever read about teens, and it’s still available to read as a Kindle book. Blood Crazy is a sort of post-apocalyptic Lord of the Flies. On an otherwise uneventful Saturday, Nick Aten observes that one of those events that cleave time into “BC/AD” occurred: Something changes the brains of everyone over 21 so that they now view all young people as enemy species who must be killed. A world-wide murderous rampage ensues where many of the young are murdered by adults, and the remaining young people hide and protect their younger siblings. Because civilization collapses overnight, each new day is a challenge for finding food and potable water and safe shelter.  Nick falls in with a group of youth who have sheltered in a compound that they have secured and provisioned. All is comfortable for a few weeks before Tug Slater, bully extraordinaire, and his droogs, seize control.

With little to keep his worst impulses in check, Slater is in a better position to terrorize other members of the compound, who are only allowed to stay and be fed if they prove useful or amusing. Slater, a Negan (The Walking Dead) wanna-be, forces many of the teen girls to be part of his harem, and finds inventive ways of tormenting those who annoy him. One girl, whom Slater dislikes due to her love for her dog, is forced to play “carry the can,” a game where the unlucky participant has an IED strapped to her neck and must find the key to remove it before it explodes. When Slater straps an IED to the girl’s dog and deliberately does not give her enough time to save her companion, she opts to embrace her dog so they will die together.  Unable to fight Slater alone, Nick escapes the compound to brave the ruined landscape and roving bands of transformed adults to locate survivors and possibly answers about what has happened to his species overnight.

Clark’s infected/affected adults bent on murdering the young externalize an ugly reality that all young people have probably felt to some degree—that some adults might want to kill them. As well, Blood Crazy is like some of today’s best YA dystopian fiction in its depiction of teens shouldering responsibilities that even most adults would find too challenging. But Nick and other of the good teen characters in this novel rise to the occasion perhaps because they are so young—their lack of experience makes it difficult for them to understand the possible dangers, a condition that makes it easier to do a serious but unfamiliar task.

Finally, like Carey’s The Girl with All the Gifts, Blood Crazy has a hopeful ending. After making what is essentially a hero’s journey, Nick returns to the compound in a better position to liberate it of Tug’s tyranny, making their small world safe for the other inhabitants and his infant son he has fathered with his girlfriend. Whether or not this small community can survive remains to be seen, but it is run on the principles of communitarianism and egalitarianism that will prevent the creation of social hierarchies that create winners and losers with unequal access to resources. 

​However, my favorite winner is literary in scope.  Nikki Grimes’.  One Last Word: Wisdom from the Harlem Renaissancefeatures the works of poets of that era.  She uses the “golden shovel” technique by creating her own poems using the original words from the classics as her last lines or words. 

​The artwork by contemporary African American young adult/children’s artists adds emotional impact.  Language arts teachers should grab this multiple award winner whether teaching the Harlem Renaissance or not, powerful and inspirational tool.

The last nonfiction honor book defies prosaic categorization.  Alison Deering and Bob Lentz created Sandwiches!: More Than You’ve Ever Wanted to Know about Making and Eating America’s Favorite Food, a fun-filled collection of unpredictable recipes prepared from top to bottom, along with timelines and factoids.

Most of the winners are currently featured on author websites as they represent their most recent work.  VOYA loved the way the group worked together and appointed us to the 2019 Nonfiction Honor List Committee for this year.  Books arrive daily when the hurricanes and other natural events documented by Winchester don’t delay the process!

On October 4, 2018 Kelly Roberts wrote a piece for The Conversation that was, in part, a way to react to the Kavanaugh hearings through a robust YA novel, Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. Most people in the field of YA scholarship know the book and its constant impact in classrooms and among individual readers for nearly twenty years. I have personally witnessed Ms. Anderson, not only sign books for the obligatory 30 to 60 minutes but she stays and listens to the intimate stories and concerns that readers of the book want to share with her for as long as it takes. She looks them in the eye, she hugs them if they need it, and she believes them.
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I have learned a great deal from watching Laurie on several occasions. Most recently, as she presented at the 2018 Summit on the Research and Teaching of Young Adult Literature last June at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, I observed her take a long lunch with one of my graduate students who need the personal touch that Laurie frequently provides.  I believe, as professor Joan Kaywell claims, that books can save lives. Maybe not every book with every kid, but those of us who work with adolescents and promote Young Adult literature have watched too many kids completely embrace a book.

​Genevieve’s War by Patricia Riley Giff (MG)
 
Despite the war that is overtaking Europe, Genevieve does not want to leave her grandmother’s farm in Alsace to return to New York. When the Nazis overtake Alsace, she and her grandmother are forced to board a Nazi soldier. At the same time, they hide a fugitive in their attic, risking their lives to protect their friend. This book provides a clear picture of life in occupied France during the war.