So all the exciting things happen when I'm not looking. I missed a BBC Breakfast debate between GP Taylor and Patrick Ness, although I have managed to get the gist of it from The Guardian. Dammit, I love a censorship discussion!

Oh well, better late than never...

So, the pros and cons of age-ranging children's books is a wide and muddled conversation, one that inevitably brings out a bit of table thumping and tutting. And there are so many tangents to follow that an impassioned, involved party could write A WHOLE BLOG POST that veered off the topic they aimed to cover. (I deleted it.)

This is the blogpost I aimed to write and it is not about the desire for age-ranging in an age of  internet booksellers. It is about self-censorship.

Ness is quoted as saying that "Children are great self-censors: they know what they can read and they know what they want to read". This is something I've been saying for a very long time - possibly since I was someone who might have been censored at, if I'd had that kind of upbringing. 

I believe that, unlike adults, children only read what they actually want to. If it's not of interest to them, they stop reading. That, essentially, is self-censorship, and it is grounded solely in the power of boredom. Underestimate it at your peril.

"But," you might say, "we're talking about YA books that may contain SEX, SWEARS and VIOLENCE." Then you pause and whisper that other headline-grabbing concept, "Books that might contain... DARKNESS."

My argument that teens read adult books containing such things holds no water here because we're talking about books that are specifically marketed to a teen audience. Books that court the attention of teenagers may well contain all of the above to a greater or lesser degree, partly because these things, treated well, are of interest to this age group. Surely external censorship measures should be taken to ensure that an over-eager eleven-year-old doesn't happen across a sex scene, or a bout of unadulterated, potty-mouthed violence, or WORSE STILL some... darkness?

Well. No. Because you did not heed my warning and you have failed to take into account the Power of Boredom.

People who call for books to be censored do not believe that a precocious reader can encounter a sex scene that they're too young to understand, and that the reader simply... finds it boring. Or that a child whose nose wrinkles at violence in a computer game could easily accommodate a passage of a pitched battle between two cage-fighters because they'll skim it if they don't like it. Too many inappropriate swear words? Then the narrative/dialogue will start to drag for that reader, and they'll phase out the words they don't want to listen to. And the darkness? Well, darkness is pretty sophisticated, something created by the space between the words. If you're not interested in it, then the writing will seem a bit... dull. And if any of it is too much, they'll simply put the book down and not bother to pick it up - after all, all us publishers are forever fretting over all the other distractions fighting for a potential reader's attention.

The child you're worried about reading this stuff is not the teen who falls squarely within the intended age bracket, but the pre-teen who reads up. And why on earth would you want to deter such a voracious reader (or their parents) by slapping a warning on the books that he or she might get the most from in terms of language and concepts? These kids are smart. Trust them. They won't tolerate being bored.

The people who have the most searing and exciting voices in today's YA are the ones who don't hold back, who aren't thinking 'this is for kids'. They are the ones who trust the audience.

Slap an explicit warning on YA and you'll lose that trust.

Happy Canada Day!

July 1st is Canada Day, a holiday traditionally – ritually – celebrated in my house by inviting friends to visit dressed in vaguely Canadian outfits and eat vaguely Canadian food, whilst drinking beer that's as close to Canadian as we can get from our local Tesco. There's no particular reason for this – our household is about as Canadian as Yorkshire pudding, but any excuse to don my "ironic" Celine Dion tour T-shirt...


So, as I celebrate with Celine, here's a list of five things you can blame/praise Canada for:


RYAN GOSLING: Hottest man on the planet? Maybe... y'know, if you have EYES. Also, Canadian.

(picture courtesy of Typographer Ryan Gosling - check it out, font nerds!)


THE CANADA GOOSE: No, not an antecedent of Mr Gosling, but those black-hooded, big-winged birds that decorate the sky with pretty flying-V formations. 


DUE SOUTH: According to the Catnipper's daddy everyone likes the TV series Due South, so, by definition, you must. Even if you haven't seen it.


CANADA DRY: This was the only soft drink available in my grandparents' house circa 1987. As far as I'm concerned it is best appreciated when lapped from a saucer to the opening chords of The Archers whilst pretending to be a cat. Go on, try it...



Last but not least...

SCAREDY SQUIRREL: Catnip's very own, very special Canadian import is definitely the best thing to come out of Canada since, well... all the above.


I hope I haven't missed out your favourite Canadian thing? If so, feel free to share the love in the comments below!

Smooth with the rough

I've had a fairly pants week workwise. You don't want to know, trust me.

So I'm going to think about the very best possible thing that happened instead and note it here for posterity:

I opened some fanmail for Patricia Leitch, she who writes the Jinny at Finmory series. Pat gets fanmail with horses drawn in the margins, horses that look a lot like the ones I used to draw when I was 9, with short necks, big heads and saddles that are nothing more than semi-circles on a straight-backed bean of a body. I look at the fanmail before passing it on and I read things that make me tear up with joy and catch my throat with happy-sadness. Pat's fans tell her how much they love her books and ask her which is her favourite, they tell her which bit they like best and her how much they love her writing. One girl wrote so lovingly of Pat's writing, finishing the letter by saying that she wishes she could write like Pat, but knows that she will never be as good. (From the subtle, nuanced longing conveyed with her letter, I suspect this girl has a lot more potential as a writer than she thinks.)

Obviously Pat's not the only Catnip author who recevies fan mail, but to me, hers means so much because I see myself in those letters, someone in love with a world created by another person's imagination, someone who sees a kindred spirit in the characters - or the writer. And then I think of where my love of her writing has taken me and I feel immensely honoured to be a part of bringing her books back into the lives of a new generation of readers.

So, on balance, I can take the odd really crappy week, just to be a part of something so important.

Books I could Eat for Breakfast... LOSER

This book is LOSER by American author Jerry Spinelli. It’s lovely in every single way.

The cover is plain blue with a matt finish and the figure depicted in the centre in white (it has a spot UV varnish on the line). Both the title and the author’s name are in a recessive shade of blue. The design is all about the crazy little dude in the middle. And that’s exactly what the book is about: a crazy little dude called Donald Zinkoff.

The thing is, I’m not sure I should really be shouting too much about the design of this HarperCollins edition when all credit should really go to Orchard who published STARGIRL with a similarly bold design and, in fact, did it first (did they? I'm not sure what the US cover was... feel free to correct me on this, if you're in the know). The simplicity of both covers reflects the simplicity of the stories contained within. Both are about outsiders, people (children) who couldn’t conform if they tried and who stand out... like, erm, white figures on a plain background.

Loser is my personal favourite because of Donald, someone ignorant of his own innocence in a way Stargirl isn’t. Donald really is a loser, the kind of child even the weak would pick on. But there’s something comforting in true innocence; you can’t be hurt by others’ cynicism; your love for life is straightforward and unashamed; even taunts can pass you by if you really are innocent through and through because you won’t see the intended slight.

I find something very liberating in thinking about innocence. I’m jaded adult these days, but this book had me yelling “I can spell tintinnabulation!” (and then failing miserably) for days. If you read it, I reckon you’ll be doing the same.

Why I commissioned… THE VANDAL

Twitter-style summary:

Paul will commit today’s event to the Memory, drink the Drink and when he wakes the Memory will tell him what he needs to know. Or will it?

Part of the foundation of Catnip’s list is the strand of prize-winning reissues we publish: Granny was a Buffer (Carnegie); Song Quest (Branford Boase); MapHead (Guardian). So it makes sense to keep my eyes open for past prize winners that have dropped off the grid. The Vandal is one such gem – this 1980 Guardian prizewinner should never have been out of print. The writer, Ann Schlee has had an adult novel (Rhine Journey) shortlisted for the Booker and her insightful, intelligent writing is something that suits the sophistication of today’s YA market.

The Hunger Games might have softened us all up for combative dystopias, but The Vandal presents an altogether more insidious, disturbing society in which the population entrust the day’s events to their own personal Memory before they go to sleep at night after drinking the Drink. The next morning the Memory delivers them the information required for them to go about their day. So simple. So chilling.

The story follows one boy, Paul, after he commits an act of vandalism – setting fire to a local sports centre – and his interaction with the Father, his own family and the consequential punishment that follows this indiscretion. I’m loathe to go into more detail about the plot as part of the enjoyment comes from the ignorance with which you approach it. There’s a sense of claustrophobia in the setting, a subtle mistrust as you find yourself knowing more than Paul, yet knowing the past doesn’t mean you can predict the future…

Reading The Vandal felt a lot like the first time I read Lord of the Flies or 1984, the feeling that there are myriad ideas at play in what seems to be a simple set-up. Like those well-remembered classics, this sparked a desire to really think about the themes that come into play, of identity, free will, crime and punishment…

A perfect book for the burgeoning teen mind that hungers for the exploration of the boundaries that this (non-dystopian…?) society places on them.

Why I commissioned… UNISON 3.0

Twitter-style summary: Two teens run for their life across futuristic NYC into Unison – the social network that knows you better than you know yourself…

Sometimes a book just works right off the bat. Our list is made up of the triumvirate of original fiction, re-issues and buy-ins. When I look for a buy-in, I look for something perfect, something I connect with immediately with zero effort from my editorial itchings to talk to author about “what I get” from the narrative. A buy-in should have instant appeal for the home market and need nothing other than a critical proof read, a new imprint page and a fancy pants cover.

And would you look at the fancy pants cover? That bad boy has matt lamination, spot UV and de-bossing in real life. It is truly a thing of beauty. You should probably hunt it out in the wild and capture it with some of those English pounds to stroke and read and love in your own home. The imprint page is pretty good too… (I jest, it is like all other imprint pages: informative.)

The only thing I wanted to change about this book was the title, in the US it’s published as Unison Spark, but we preferred Unison 3.0 – what do you think? Anyhoo, it’s taking me a while to get to why I loved it: I wish this has been in print when I was 12. The narrative is exciting, pacey and the plot is clever and current, using wry turns of phrase to reference the way the digital era is shaping our lives. (Although 12-year-old me would have said, “Social networking, WTF? Hang on, what does 'WTF' mean?”)

When I read this book I felt I was at the cinema. I could really envisage the dinginess of Mistletoe’s Little Saigon beneath the Canopy that divides New York. When Ambrose Truax stands in his apartment several hundred feet over Mistletoe’s head I’m there in his room, watching him select clothes from a digitally enhanced wardrobe. The plot picked me up and carried me off, only occasionally pausing to set me down and dust off my clothes before grabbing my hand and pulling me back to stand, watch, listen and feel another scene.

Andy Marino has written a really fun, knowing and exciting book and I’m really pleased to have him as part of the Catnip team. You can follow him on twitter @Andy_Marino or check out his website, but better yet, I recommend you read his book. It's cheaper than a cinema ticket, there are no adverts and it lasts longer than 120 mins. It's a no-brainer.

PDF? BBF? RAF? Nope: LBF.

Another Book Fair, another blogpost. I really need to get on with actually posting a little more often...

London Book Fair is very different from Bologna: it's for more than just children's publishing; appointments aren't just about acquisitions; it's a shorter commute from my house and the coffee is much worse. It's an intense few days (especially if you don't map your route through the fair between appointments and allow for vital toilet/tea-drinking/toasted panini-eating time).

Here are some of the things that happened at the fair:

• I got to hang around the beautiful new-look Bounce stand and catch some between-meeting chat with other publishers represented by the mightiest children's sales force in the land. And some of said sales force too.
• There was the joy of handing out Catnip's gorgeous new catalogue and, AND, some very lucky people received a shiny (literally), limited edition proof of Colin Mulhern's forthcoming thriller, Arabesque.
• I had the utter delight of seeing an author approach the Bounce stand, introduce himself and say that he's written a book and would like to talk to someone about it. This is not unusual. Lots of authors do this at the fair. BUT THIS BOY WAS FOURTEEN YEARS OLD. How cool is that? Fourteen and with the gumption to cold-call industry professionals at a massive trade fair - I know forty-year-old writers who'd quail at the prospect. Lucky for me I was able to have a chat with him about starting out in writing, give him advice on the resources available and tell him about a seminar that was running later in the day that he might be interested in checking out. This is the thing I love more than anything in the world: giving away what I know about publishing to people who want to listen.
• I went to the Best Seminar Ever, (or Express Yourself if you look at the programme) run by Bali Rai and Booktrust where a panel of teens talked about reading. It was just... refreshing and perfect. Sometimes the way publishing professionals talk about teen readers troubles me. It can seem a bit 'us' and 'them' and weirdly, 'we' seem to have an agenda when it comes to 'their' reading habits. I hope any of those prescriptive tendencies were assuaged by this panel of intelligent, interested and articulate people who were quite clearly capable of dictating their own reading choices in exactly the same way as the audience of 'grown-ups' were. More of these seminars, please. Publishers may not have the resources to test their books on the prospective audience, but it doesn't mean we don't want to listen. (Oh and the 14-y-o author did take my advice and go along for a listen and talked to Bali at the end. Whoop.)
• I managed the inevitable almost-missed appointment. 'I thought we said my stand - but you thought it was at yours... ARGH. Schedule fail.' But managed to make it work. Phew.
• Tuesday I managed to survive by only consuming a banana, a tracker bar and a KFC - which I don't recommend.
• Self-control was summoned when I saw Patrick Ness waiting outside the exhibition centre. He was wearing earphones (the international sign for 'I am happy in my alone time') and instead of running up to him and thanking him for enhancing my life with his words (and possibly sobbing about them), I walked past like a sensible grown up. Then I rushed over to the Bounce stand and told them I'd just seen Patrick Ness.
• And I got to chat to a ton of people outside of official meetings by wandering around, and making it to the tweetup. All of them awesome, obviously, because y'know, they like books and stuff.

TTYL*

*If you know what this means without looking it up on the internet, you are more down with the kids than any of the audience at the Express Yourself seminar.