Posts on trends

What's with the proliferation of haiku picture books? And if we're going to have so dang many, can't we make them a little better? A little more, say, poetic?

Earlier today I read a review of an upcoming haiku picture book. The haiku quoted in the review was about as interesting, vivid, and emotional as this one I'm making up on the spot:

It's Sunday evening.
I made biscuits and gravy.
I'll go eat them now.

Except this author probably took more than ten seconds to write it. And got paid to do so.

Any idiot can write seventeen syllables and call it a haiku. But you better say something special in those seventeen syllables.

A haiku should have
more flavor than yesterday's
leftovers, you know?

As if that weren't enough, this week I've read another two reviews of "House That Jack Built" take-offs. Clearly, no one heard me the first time.

Can we stop writing/publishing picture book take-offs of "The House That Jack Built"? Now? Please? Two were reviewed in the August 15 Kirkus alone. I don't care if we're talking about pies, schools, penguins, deserts, or Thanksgiving feasts. The idea is not getting any fresher with age, folks.

ETA, 9/6/08: Peter at Collecting Children's Books has written a good long post about the history of "The House That Jack Built"—not to mention the sad and moralistic tale of a three-legged rat!

There's been plenty of talk about the "headless" trend in kids'/YA book covers, but I've never seen a post quite so snarky as Peter's at Collecting Children's Books. On How to Build a House, by Dana Reinhardt:

A group of teenagers converge on a small Tennesse town to rebuild a house that was destroyed in a tornado. By the time the summer is over, the house will be completely built—but several of the young adults will have lost their heads. This novel is a testament to the importance of volunteer work...and the dangers of untrained teens using power tools.

Get lots more snark, and some really awful puns, here!

Who knew Sharon Creech was such a trendsetter when, in 1995, she published Absolutely Normal Chaos? Adolescents are known for wanting to blend in with their peers, but based on middle grade and YA novel titles since the year 2000, you'd think conformity was at an all-time high! I offer as evidence:

• Define Normal, by Julie Anne Peters (2000)
• Act I, Act II, Act Normal, by Martha Weston (2003)
• The Trouble with Normal, by Charise Mericle Harper (2003)
• Looking for Normal, by Betty Monthei (2005)
• Not Exactly Normal, by Devin Brown (2005)
• Deliver Us from Normal, by Kate Klise (2005)
• Far from Normal, by Kate Klise (2006) (partially excused because it's a sequel)
• Chasing Normal, by Lisa Papademetriou (2008)
• Waiting for Normal, by Leslie Connor (2008)

In the same timeframe, in spite of their significantly larger market share, adults haven't been as plagued by individuality:

• Normal Girl, by Molly Jong-Fast (2000)
• Like Normal People, by Karen E. Bender (2000)
• Entering Normal, by Anne D. LeClaire (2001)
• Leaving Normal, by Stef Ann Holm (2005)
• A Piece of Normal, by Sandi Kahn Shelton (2006)
• The Last Exit to Normal, by Michael B. Harmon (2008)

Novels with "normal" in the title published before those mentioned above? There is none. Not in our library system, not at this time, anyway. Any prior "normal" books were apparently doomed to fall out of favor, out of print.

Also for the sake of contrast, novels I found in my library system from the past 8 years with "abnormal" in the title? Just one: My Abnormal Life, by Lee McClain (2005).

Maybe it's not as striking as The [Blankety] [Blank] of [What's-His/Her-Face] trend, but we're talking about a single word showing up with, er, abnormal frequency!

Would it also be unfair of me to suggest that some of these authors set their stories in cities named Normal solely for the sake of a clever title? It's a joke that gets old fast.

In the immortal words of Ramona Quimby's father: "First time is funny. Second time is silly. Third time is a spanking."

The other day, I looked at my library's New Junior High Books shelf for poetry books and noticed everything on-shelf was based on historical figures or events! An interesting trend. The younger set gets kitties, doggies, and dragons. The older kids get Birmingham, 1963, The Brothers' War: Civil War Voices in Verse, and Frida: ¡Viva la Vida! = Long Live Life!

Which is, it turns out, a really lovely book. Carmen T. Bernier-Grand draws on Frida Kahlo's life story and highly autobiographical paintings to give a personal, poetic voice to Kahlo's timultuous life. Kahlo told her story through her art, over and over, but the symbolism is lost on the average spectator. Bernier-Grand selects details from the paintings--which are printed along-side the poems--to elucidate, putting them in the context of Kahlo's strained family life, life-altering bus accident, rocky marriage with muralist, Diego Rivera, and burgeoning career as a painter.

In my college Intro to Psychology class, I wrote a term paper about artists Frida Kahlo's, Vincent Van Gogh's, and Egon Schiele's concentration on self-portraiture. I'm sure it was terrible. As I recall, the literature I found had very Freudian explanations for this. In Kahlo's case, Bernier-Grand puts forth a much simpler explanation: because Kahlo was so-often bed-ridden, her self was a natural subject for painting. All she needed was a mirror.

I'm not a huge reader of poetry to judge, but to me the verse by itself seems competent but not stick-in-your-brain-and-heart. However, between the poems, the paintings, and the biographical sketch and timeline in the end notes, Frida: ¡Viva la Vida! = Long Live Life! could nearly stand on its own as a "biography book" for junior high readers. As it is, it's a handsome, well-researched introduction to a fascinating and sympathetic figure from 20th century art history.

Meanwhile, in the online world, PBS has a spectacular online exhibit on Kahlo's life and work, including interviews and educational guides. The site was put together in conjuction with the airing of Amy Stechler's film The Life and Times of Frida Kahlo. Definitely worth checking out!

This week's Poetry Friday round-up is hosted by Sarah Reinhard at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering. Go take a gander!

We all know the current trend of photographic book covers for novels. Much has been made of trends to show just feet, just torsos, or various other truncated body parts. But lately I’ve been noticing more photographic book covers that show actual faces.

One side effect, of course, is that readers are given a very strong suggestion of what the main character looks like, rather than letting them use their imaginations—like seeing a still shot from the movie based on the book.

I wonder if the trend is part of our society’s general obsession with things that are “real”: movies “based on the true story,” reality television, etc. If the main character of a novel has apparently been captured on film, does that make the story seem more real?

This past week, I’ve been struck by something else about these headshot/full-body photo covers—something that’s made me wonder about just what-all goes into publishers’ decisions about which models they use…

Case Study #1: Suite Scarlett, by Maureen Johnson
Quick, who’s the most famous Scarlett you know? Scarlett O’Hara, you say? Okay, second-most famous, then—and a real person, to boot. In fact, the only real person I can think of named Scarlett. (It’s not a common name, after all.) That’s right: Scarlett Johanssen.

Is it just a coincidence that the model on the cover of Suite Scarlett looks startlingly like Scarlett Johanssen? I’m not saying she’s a dead ringer (okay, it's mostly the hair), but take a look at Photo A and Photo B and tell me there’s not a resemblance.

So, is Scarlett Johanssen unwittingly selling books for Maureen Johnson? Not that Maureen Johnson needs help selling books! And maybe most of her young fans don’t know or care about Scarlett Johanssen anyway—but adult buyers, on the other hand…

Case Study #2: Band Geek Love, by Josie Bloss
Stop me if this rings a bell: “This one time? At band camp?” Yeah, I thought that would be enough. Even if you’re lucky enough to have missed the movie American Pie, a few years back you probably heard that line repeated often enough to feel like you’d been there after all. It’s spoken, of course, by Alyson Hannigan’s character. Alyson Hannigan… the band geek… with red hair… cut in a pageboy.

She played the flute (you probably knew that, too) instead of the trumpet. And again, many/most of this book’s readers haven’t seen American Pie either. But is Alyson Hannigan unwittingly helping sell Band Geek Love to adults?

Of course, Hannigan gained most of her fans through her role in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I’d bet a very healthy percentage of those fans were band geeks themselves. So, maybe it’s only natural!

Case Study #3: Allie Finkle’s Rules for Life: Moving Day, by Meg Cabot
I’m stretching a bit here, but I can’t help looking at this book cover without thinking of one very famous person. Wait, make that two very famous people. Maybe it’s the clothes. Maybe it’s the hair. Or the complexion. Or the mouth. But all my brain can think is Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen.

(Amazon’s images for this book are pretty crummy, but Meg Cabot’s got a good image on her site.)

This may all be in my head. Or maybe it’s only my astounding television/movie star ignorance that has kept me from seeing celebrities in the faces of all photographic book covers.

What do you think?

ETA 5/30/08:

Case Study #4: How to Be Bad, by E. Lockhart, Sarah Mlynowski, and Lauren Myracle
Tell me you look at this one and don't think of everybody's (latest) favorite British waif, who in various films has played soccer, fought pirates (including undead ones), and worn tight, Victorian dresses in the rain. That's right, I'm thinking of none other than Keira Knightley.

Revisiting the trend I discussed here, I've since come across some more recent and upcoming children's and YA book titles entitled The [Blankety] [Blank] of [What's-His/Her-Face]:

• The Secret History of Tom Truehart (Note how the use of "secret" provides instant enticement—sort of like colored sprinkles on a cupcake.)
• The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (Suggested by an anonymous commentor on the previous post, this one technically contains two [blanketys], but it's close enough.)
• The Second Virginity of Suzy Green
• The Totally Made-up Civil War Diary of Amanda MacLeish (Includes a [blankally], but again, close enough.)
• The Potential Hazards of Hester Day
• The Dangerous Days of Daniel X (Subtitled, I understand, How James Patterson Saved Young Adult Literature from Itself.)

I love that there are bloggers out there tracking trends in children’s and YA literature, because a lot of these things slip right by me.

For example, there’s been a lot of blog discussion the past couple years about the trend of novel cover art with photographs of feet, or female models cropped at the chin. Jacket Whys is my favorite blog for following children’s cover art trends.

Then there are more obscure patterns that crop up in terms of plot—patterns that only someone who spends a whoooole lot of time reading a huge number children’s books would notice. Fuse #8 points out many of the year’s bizarre trends in her annual Golden Fuse Awards. For example, 2006 was the year of children getting their arms mangled by machines. In 2007, math was a startlingly prevalent subject for novels.

But some trends are so glaringly obvious even I can’t miss them. And one of them is the basis for this post: the trend of calling middle grade and YA novels The [Blankety] [Blank] of [What’s-His/Her-Face].

Any of these titles ring a bell?

1. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
2. The Secret Life of Sparrow Delaney
3. The Puzzling World of Winston Breen
4. The Daring Adventures of Penhaligon Brush
5. The Very Ordered Existence of Merilee Marvelous
6. The Extraordinary Adventures of Alfred Kropp
7. The Invisible Rules of the Zoe Lama
8. The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney
9. The Golden Dream of Carlo Chuchio
10. The Virtual Life of Lexie Diamond
11. The Secret History of Tom Truehart
12. The Amazing Flight of Darius Frobisher
13. The Loud Silence of Francine Green
14. The Marvelous Misadventures of Fun-Boy
15. The Secret Blog of Raisin Rodriguez
16. The Silver Spoon of Solomon Snow
17. The Midnight Diary of Zoya Blume
18. The Rising Star of Rusty Nail
19. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks
20. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing

And that’s just a selection of applicable titles from the past three years. I didn’t even include books called The [Blank]—no [Blankety] —of [What’s-His/Her-Face] (The Invention of Hugo Cabret, The Adoration of Jenna Fox, etc. etc.).

So what’s the deal with this trend?

The matter of the main character’s full name appearing in the title is nothing new. Anastasia Krupnik. Silas Marner. Titus Andronicus. What makes a character’s name a good title? Perhaps, in the case of a character-driven novel, nothing better encapsulates the story than simply the character’s name.

Likewise, “The Adventures of” is an age-old (well, at least, 19th century on) title convention: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Many Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh. What’s curious to me is the addition of the qualifiers. It’s not enough that characters these days have adventures (or journeys or flights or what-have-you). They must be “extraordinary,” “daring.” Lives must be “secret,” “astonishing.” Etc.

I suppose the idea is these energetic adjectives will make books more attractive to readers from the get-go. The problem is that I, at least, find myself taking them less seriously. In fact, I feel a bit manipulated. I feel like I’m being told that not only is Edward Tulane’s journey miraculous, so is the book—which, of course, is a matter of opinion. Also, with so many titles (apparently) clamoring to stand out in this particular way, the net effect is diminished.

What if every title were constructed this way? We might have…

• The Blinding Hubris of Oedipus Rex
• The Impossible Dream of Don Quixote
• The Blasé Day of Clarissa Dalloway
• The Heart-Wrenching Trials of Oliver Twist
• The Miraculous Adventures of Jesus Christ (sorry)

Anyway, I’m not passing judgment on books with titles fitting this formula. Many of them are terrific books. And there’s a perfectly legitimate, plot-based reason for The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks to be called that. Ditto Francine Green’s loud silence. Ditto Raisin Rodriguez’s secret blog. And so on.

I’m just saying there’s a pattern I’ve noticed. And if I’ve noticed it, it’s got to be big. And if it’s that big—maybe it’s losing, rather than gaining, impact.

ETA 5/9/08:

• The Secret History of Tom Truehart (Note how the use of "secret" provides instant enticement—sort of like colored sprinkles on a cupcake.)
• The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (Suggested by an anonymous commentor below, this one technically contains two [blanketys], but it's close enough.)
• The Second Virginity of Suzy Green
• The Totally Made-up Civil War Diary of Amanda MacLeish (Includes a [blankally], but again, close enough.)
• The Potential Hazards of Hester Day
• The Dangerous Days of Daniel X

ETA 6/3/08:

• The Latent Powers of Dylan Fontaine (Thanks, Big A little a!)