I’m constantly walking the lines between popularity and quality, Newbery and Printz, as well as school and public library policies. Not to mention trying to stretch a budget that has to cover all those things and now the common core’s push for more nonfiction.

I can’t just buy books for teacher’s to use in the classroom. I can’t just buy books for student’s recreational reading (many of my students, despite their affluent backgrounds, only get their books from school). I can’t just buy books that win the Newbery or Printz, basically because they sit on the shelves and then I have to weed them possibly because they were too young or too old for my students.

So my personal question -which I hope will be addressed somewhere – what about those children who are between 10 and 14? At the upper end of Newbery (which appeals to some of my sixth graders but mostly my sixth grade teachers) and the lower end of Printz (which appeals mostly to my eighth grade honor students and teacher).

I’m really enjoying this discussion, and I keep almost being swayed by the appeal arguments, but I keep coming back to literary distinction as the main criteria. I think it would be great if Printz committee members solicited teen opinions, but I don’t think very limited appeal should prevent a book from being awarded the Printz.

I’ve attended a mock Printz workshop in Portland for several years, which is mostly attended by librarians, but some folks bring along teens. It’s fascinating to hear their reactions to the short list of titles – what they loved or hated and why. They split us up into small groups for discussion, and each group picks a winner. After we announce our winners there’s a large group discussion, and I’ve seen years where a title is completely divisive – librarians will love it, teens will hate it, or vice versa.

Tatiana, your definition speaks really strongly to character as a (possibly THE) critical element for you. (Although I am fascinated that you point to Jonah rather than Taylor or Narnie as the character who stands as central in Jellicoe!) There’s a whole conversation to be had about how we rate different aspects as we measure literary excellence, both personally and in groups, and we’ll have it more formally at least once, I’m sure, but I would argue that if we use only one or two measures to determine the excellence of a book, we risk missing great stuff. Last year, the number one book in my collection was Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, which is mostly imagery. And my teens were wild for it. Celia and Marco are really thin as characters– they are literally puppets of forces they cannot understand. Rated for compelling character, I think I’d fail the book! And as far as plot goes… well, it’s practically transparent. And yet, it’s a magnificent read–dreamy, intense, imaginative, beautifully written– and clearly compelling based on the circulation and fan art around these parts. I think a book can stand out without a compelling character or plot by being astounding in other ways– and have standout characters and plot and still fall short of excellence, for a slightly objective* value of excellence.
*I don’t think there is a truly objective measuring stick, but there are levels of subjective.

To me, any book that is selected for its structure and style, at the expense of compelling characters and a compelling plot, is too niche. I know, it’s a pedestrian definition, and yet I am sticking with it.

Let’s take “Where Things Come Back” (the only 2012 Printz book that I actually finished and felt only luke-warm about). I appreciated this novel’s unique structure, but ask me if I remember anything else about it, and I will fail to name anything except the woodpecker. But ask me if I remember Frankie Landau-Banks or Jonah Griggs or Nailor or Vera Dietz. You bet I remember them and their stories.

From my experience, books that stand the test of time, are both well written and with appeal (or are compelling, whatever you want to call them). For me, these two factors are prerequisites of literary excellence.

I do think it’s important to note, though, that tess is a teen — and was one of the most ardent admirers of Where Things Come Back around these parts. Which is exactly why I think it’s valuable to talk to teens and get their opinions.

It sounds like, for you, maybe a book can be too niche? Is that fair to say? When does a book stop being too niche, do you think?

Although I am not even a librarian, this topic interests me a lot. As I’ve read through various Printz titles, I noticed that during quite a few years (sadly, 2012 was one of them) titles were picked that were SO niche that even I, an adult who has appreciation for quality literature, couldn’t find anything compelling enough for myself to finish, never mind love. How would teen readers react to those winners and honorees, is sad to think of.

Of course there were years with selections very reader-friendly, notably 2011 and 2009, IMO. Those books I enjoyed a lot. Hope to see similar successes in future.

Anyway. After a week of sitting with this and thinking about it and writing with you guys about it, I think I’ve arrived at what I should have blogged about in the first place, and have been trying to articulate all along. Slow percolator, remember?

What I’m so hyped up about is actually teen participation in the committee process. Teen participation is, in my experience, what is truly powerful at the heart of teen librarianing. We are in a position to open things up, to be transparent, to get teens involved. I think that’s important and has value. It keeps us honest and truly serving teens, rather than our best guess at what teens want and need. It gives teens tons of opportunities to be active participants and leaders in their communities, in their libraries.

To put it in the macro/micro context (thank you, Joy!), I heavily privilege micro because I think that teens’ voices and opinions have value. Because I think that a teen opinion is more important than an adult opinion when we are talking about teen literature. Not because teen opinions will differ so much from adult opinions, necessarily, but because I am looking for authenticity to the teen experience. Teens are equipped to speak to that in a way that we adults are not. They can do so through a literary lens, which would be appropriate in PrintzLand — I believe this. I think it’s worth doing. I actually think it’s the most important thing we can do.

(Obviously, Mark, I am just as extreme as you, just on the other side. Thank you for not settling with neener neener as a response, BTW, because you’ve really gotten me to think about this a lot!)

The programs and projects that I’ve worked on at the library that teens have led the way on, that teens have been heavily involved in from the conception to the execution have, without exception, been the ones that have been best attended, had the best feedback, and been the most rewarding. I don’t think this has to end at my local level, or just be the way we program. I think that teens can, and should, participate in all aspects of the librarian process (in this case, book selection, really, or literary awards, in the case of Printz) on a national level, too.

And Karyn, I hear what you are saying, about populations being narrow, but isn’t that why we have librarians from all over the country serving on committees? To me, that just means that when we’re serving on a committee we should reach out to any and all teens we can reach. Rollie Welch worked with teens in a suburban school (where his wife taught) and also reached out to incarcerated teens and juveniles in detention homes while on QP. It’s possible for one librarian to reach a lot of teens. If soliciting teen feedback on titles were an expected, explicit part of all committee P&P, I am sure we’d see lots of librarians reaching out to a wide variety of teens. I think this would be a positive thing.

I am so enjoying this discussion by the way, and all the thinking you have inspired me to do; I hope you guys are, too. And I know that I’ve moved off into very theoretical All The Committees land, but I do think that this could apply to Printz as well. Without being about popularity. Without being solely about appeal. While still keeping a very literary focus. While still talking about quality. One aspect of quality in literature for teens, surely, is that the books resonate with teens, no? I don’t think it’s crazy to examine that aspect.