The publishing year

Inspired by the annual Guardian piece where big-time editor types review their misses and wishes of the year gone by I thought I'd do my own little post on this matter.

The book: Milicent's Book by Charlotte Moore is a lyrical coming-of-age tale written from the point of view of fourteen-year-old orphan, Milicent Ludlow. Milicent's innocence is tempered by a keen eye and a sharp mind, creating fantastic insight into an unorthodox family life in Victorian England.

Why it deserved better: Charlotte's writing is sublime and this book picked up some fantastic reviews, as well as a mention in the Guardian sandwiched between literary giants, Meg Rosoff and Patrick Ness. This is a book that should make its way into more readers' hands - and minds.

I wish I'd published: If I had a *slightly* bigger budget, then I wish I could have published Divergent (HarperCollins). This is pacey, exciting and deeply absorbing - everything you want from a teen read and I hope it does better as the brand builds in the UK over the course of the trilogy. But thinking more realistically, I wish I'd published Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Walker) this is a story that explores the issues surrounding organ donation on a personal, deeply touching level. As someone who screams 'SIGN THE FORM' at episodes of ER, I really loved this humanising tale of loss and life. It's the sort of book that I imagine with a fair wind, a sharp eye and a quick-off-the-mark offer Catnip could pick up in the future...

*On the first day of Christmas...

My true love gave to me:

A Book

Well if he/she/it really is my true love then it couldn't possibly be anything else could it?

If it were up to me then everyone I know would get a book for Christmas. A work of fiction. In paperback (unless it's only available in hardback, in which case my hand will be forced). I don't think books are cheap, I think the right book is one of the most valuable things you can receive. Nothing else can transport you away from reality for a sustained period, make you run the gamut of emotions available as a human being, leave you elated, despairing or just... a little different.

Here are the books I have bought for people in Chrsitmases past (some of these will be less than surprising if you've read previous posts!):

The Knife of Never Letting Go - Patrick Ness

Elsewhere - Garielle Zevin

Looking for JJ - Anne Cassidy

Speak - Laurie Halse Anderson

Loser - Jerry Spinelli

The Red Tree - Shaun Tan

Duck, Death and the Tulip - Wolf Erlbruch

The Dogs - Mark Morris

House of the Scorpion - Nancy Farmer

So I'm looking for some new recommendations for Christmas 2011 and I reckon there's none better than YOU to do the recommending. I'm looking for something published in 2011 that fits firmly into the remit of not for adults (because that's a) too easy and b) so not my style).

Help!

*Yes, I know technically it's not the first day of Christmas. Apologies for my tardiness.

How I get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, man, practice!

I got very excited yesterday. For the first time since I’ve been on twitter I felt the thrill of being a part of something of which I am no part at all. Social media voyeurism, if you will.

I’m talking of course about the build up and reveal of Pottermore the winners of the Carnegie and Greenaway medals. The Oscars of the book world (without the heat magazine red-carpet dress-off), the awards celebrate children’s literature, highlight the importance of librarians and get people reading. (I’d be surprised if a Carnegie shortlisting didn’t attract a few extra readers…)

I loved reading Helen Boyle @tbktweet’s feed and seeing how many of the people I follow were waiting, like me, with baited breath simply because like me, bloggers, bookshoppers, publishers are all the same: readers.

So congratulations to the winners, Templar and Grahame Baker-Smith for winning the Greenaway with Farther and Patrick Ness with Walker for the third book in the thrilling Chaos Walking series, Monsters of Men.

And congratulations to all those who shortlisted, for without equally worthy competition it wouldn't have been nearly so exciting waiting for the results.

Crying game

I have a theory that there's a breed of authors who thrive of the tears of their readers. Like some kind of evil yet enchanting fairies they haunt your thoughts with their words and then steal in at your most vulnerable moments and capture your tears in a crystal vial to fuel them through their next book.

I just saw a poster for A Monster Calls by the ever-emotive Patrick Ness on my way to the office just now and I started tearing up just looking at the words on the poster and thinking about the half-finished copy that kept me up till 1am last night even though I knew I'd be woken at 5.30am (for the record I squeezed in another couple of chapters then as well). Yes - only half finished and still the poster made me cry.

Other writers who have reduced me to tears include Laurie Halse Anderson, Robin Jarvis (the final chapter of The Oaken Throne has shaped my belief of how books should end), Jerry Spinelli, Gabrielle Zevin, Rodman Philbrick and Richard Adams (even someone I once described as an ‘emotionless automaton’ cries at Watership Down – still).

I adore books that make me feel – so I’d really like to know of any other authors out there who might be able to reduce me to tears at the turn of a page. Any suggestions?

Books I Could Eat for Breakfast

The Ask and the Answer (trade PB edition) Walker Books

Anyone who has ever met me knows that I adore The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. I am being literal when I say this; I tell everyone to buy it. Sometimes I buy it for them. I actually have two copies of the book so that I have one I can lend out. I carry it about my person just in case…

So why isn’t this entry about that book? Well, it seems fitting to open this feature with the first book that I actually tried to eat the second I laid eyes on it. To me, this book is the perfect package.

It represents a world where money is no object and designers, editors, sales team and author work in harmony. The white background leaps off the shelf and the embossed typography set against that edible matt silver foiling make holding the volume a tactile joy.

Then there’s the dual ‘A’ on the spine that nods to images imbedded within the story and the spot UV (“It’s like these words aren’t there to be read but to be heard…”). These are both clever design details, jokes to be shared with the reader after they finish the book, like a secret track at the end of an album.

Contained within (stunning coloured verso front and back, noted) the dual narrative caught me by surprise as I never look at reviews of a book I already intend to read. Yet as with the first in the trilogy, whoever typeset this was a genius. The two body fonts are as distinct and fitting as the voices themselves.

Five paragraphs in and I haven’t mentioned the writing. Honestly, I don’t think I need to, do I? If you want a review I’d read this at The Mountains of Instead. But I would like to say one thing:

The Ask and the Answer contains a chapter heading that reduced me to tears (heart-rending, uncontrollable sobs – I was inconsolable for a good twenty minutes before reading on). A. Chapter. Heading. If Ness can do that with five words, imagine what he did with a whole book of them.