I’ve written two posts over at Book Riot in the last week. The first is a roundup of 30 YA books coming out — or just recently released — that feature diversity in some capacity. The second post is about how brick and mortar bookstores are a privilege.

If you’re not a regular reader of YA Highway (you should be!) you may have missed that they’re running a web awards. The first round solicited nominees, and we’ve been honored in a number of categories. We’re honored to be considered, especially with all of the other excellent blogs/tumblrs/twitters of amazing members of the YA community on the web.

You can go over there and vote in any or all of the categories, and you can write in other candidates if your favorites haven’t been mentioned.

Every year, twice a year, we like to make predictions about the books which we think will get some attention or thoughtful consideration for the YALSA Morris Award (first a debut novel) and the Printz award. There’s something fun about making guesses when the year is half over and then reconsidering those guesses or adding new ones when it’s almost award time in January.

So following in tradition, here’s what we’re thinking about at the midway point for this year’s Morris and Printz awards. Of course, we’re eager to hear where you agree or disagree with us and what titles you might offer up in either or both of the categories. We want to bulk up what’s on our radars!

Kelly’s Thoughts


Morris Award


Since I’ve been doing so much committee reading lately, I haven’t read quite as many debut novels as I hoped I would. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, for sure, and I’ve been reading a number of reviews, both from the trade journals and from the blogging world. Here’s what I’m thinking about in terms of the Morris. All of these happen to be books I have read so far this year. I have a pile (both physical and mental) of other debuts I want to look into before the end of the year, so I suspect this list will change and grow come January.

Charm & Strange by Stephanie Kuehn: This dark, dark contemporary is so tightly written and compelling that it should merit a lot of committee discussion. The story is great and appealing to readers, and the writing itself is stand out.

Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad Poets by Evan Roskos: The humor in this one is what makes it memorable for me, though the writing is strong and the story compelling. This one has mega teen appeal to it, too.

Rapture Practice by Aaron Hartzler: This memoir for teens is one of the first YA non-fiction titles I’ve read and really enjoyed. It’s funny, real, honest, and it’s fair in how it portrays growing up in a conservative, religious household when you don’t necessarily believe in the things your parents do.

Uses for Boys by Erica Lorraine Scheidt: This is probably my top pick for the Morris this year. Scheidt racked up a number of starred reviews for this book, and it’s one that really delivers both in story and in writing. It’s a memorable read with a long, slow burn.

Wild Awake by Hilary T. Smith: It’s interesting to me that I’ve now listed three books that feature mental illness in some capacity as my top contenders for the Morris. Smith’s debut has great teen appeal to it (which is an element of the Morris committee’s consideration) and the writing sings.

I think there will definitely be some discussion over Emily Murdoch’s If You Find Me, as well, but I think it might fall short. It’s possible I’m projecting my own issues concerning voice with that book, but I think it’s a fair criticism. That said, if Murdoch’s book did see a slot on the Morris list in December, I wouldn’t be surprised, either. One of the reasons I do love the Morris so much is because it’s not necessarily about a perfect book. It’s about those books which compel you as a reader to look forward to the second book because the first was so strong.

I haven’t read Laura Lam’s Pantomime but it’s garnered some nice reviews, and I might put that up there as titles to consider. Let’s also throw in Elizabeth LaBan’s The Tragedy Paper and maybe Sarah McCarry’s All Our Pretty Songs (though I have some reservations in terms of this being the first in a series, rather than a stand alone, and not because I don’t think series starters can be Morris-contenders — just I don’t know whether this one was necessary to be a series).

Printz Award


I feel like I am even further behind in reading thinking about the Printz, but I might not be. I actually think this is a pretty weak year for literary standouts. That’s not to say it’s a bad year, but I haven’t had a lot of books stand out to me as Printz-worthy titles quite yet. As you’ll see when I get into some of my picks, I haven’t read them all yet but have plans to get to them very soon in order to reassess my guesses.

For anyone who loves checking out starred reviews and considering these awards in light of them, make sure you bookmark and follow Jen’s regularly-updated spreadsheet of starred reviews. I am so impressed with her dedication to this.

17 & Gone by Nova Ren Suma: My top pick. This is such an incredible book, and upon reread, it became even more incredible and nuanced. This book has layers upon layers, and it blurs genre lines in a way that serves and elevates the story. And there’s no question Suma can write.

Black Helicopters by Blythe Woolston: This book challenged me when I read it. And I read it three times before it came together for me. For being under 200 pages, this packs a punch and begs for discussion. There’s a lot to unravel here, and Woolston’s proven herself a worthy writer.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith: I haven’t read this one yet, but I’ve seen it garnering quite a bit of buzz as a potential Printz title. After spending time reading the reviews and checking out the description, I’m curious enough to pick it up, even though it’s not necessarily one I normally would. It’s dystopian, set in New Orleans, and it sounds like it’s got a lot of basis in realistic, eco disasters. Also, I like the descriptions calling the main character a “fierce heroine.”

All the Truth That’s In Me by Julie Berry: I’m going to blog about this one closer to release date, but it is pretty good! It’s a story of a girl who was stolen from home (which happens to be a cult-like existence, somewhat Puritanical, in a non-disclosed historical time period) and who had her tongue cut out. She loses her voice completely. And when she’s brought back to her home, no one wants to listen to her. She has no voice, even if she has the clues to unraveling a big local secret. The book’s first half felt derivative to me, BUT the second half of the book is intense and memorable and has a pretty powerful message about girls and the voice/authority/value they are seen to have in the world. The publisher’s definitely angling this as their award book (read this PW article) and it’s garnered a Kirkus star already.

Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick: I haven’t read this one, but it’s gathered every star possible, I believe. Those who have read it have praised it highly. I can’t say it is one I’m going to rush to pick up, but I am keeping an eye on the buzz and discussion around it.

Winger by Andrew Smith: A million and twelve comparisons to Looking for Alaska can’t be wrong, right? Kidding aside, Smith’s novel is compelling, and it’s memorable for its gut punch of an ending (not to mention awesome voice of Ryan Dean West). The problem might be in passage of time, as well as pacing, though.

Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner: I haven’t read this dystopia yet, but it’s sitting near the top of my to-read pile since it’s a short one and it’s garnered quite a bit of Printz buzz. All of the chapters are super short, too, so it looks like it could be one of those “deceptively short” reads (which I dig — see Woolston’s book above). This one’s gotten a few stars from the trades, too.

Teeth by Hannah Moskowitz: This is the year of the kinda-sorta-magical mermaid stories. I haven’t read this one yet though it’s on my short list. Again, this one’s gotten a couple of stars, and it’s been popping up on a few Printz prediction lists I keep an eye on. I’m looking forward to reading this book because it’s so outside my usual comfort zone.

A few other books I’m thinking about in terms of Printz — maybe Sara Zarr’s The Lucy Variations will see an appearance. It was super strong, both in terms of story and in terms of writing. I think there will be a lot of discusion for Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor & Park but — and I know this might get me in trouble — I don’t know if it’ll go the distance. It’s well written and appealing, but the book really hasn’t stayed with me since I read it. It’s excellent, but is it enduring? I suspect many will argue yes, and I think that’s fair. But for me, it hasn’t stuck.

Out of the Easy collected a number of starred reviews this year, too, but I found it to be quite lacking in terms of writing and plot. It wasn’t as good as Between Shades of Grey nor as memorable. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great, either.

Frankly, I’d love to see a book like Scheidt’s Uses for Boys be a serious contender for the Printz. I think it can and should be. But I often wonder if books like Scheidt’s sometimes get short shrift in consideration for literary value because it is a story of a very broken girl, and it’s realistic. That’s not to say those books don’t win awards or that the committee doesn’t look at each book on its own merits (I know they do!), but I think those sorts of stories tend to do less well when it comes to literary awards like Printz. I know there’s a whole other blog post or thesis in this, but it’s one I’ve been thinking about quite a bit.

Kimberly’s Thoughts

I haven’t read any Printz or Morris-worthy books so far this year. That’s not to say I haven’t read a few knock-outs. I have. But for one reason or another, they’re not contenders: publication date; intended audience; exciting plot but simply OK writing; excellent overall but with a few important weaknesses; and so on.

I think Kelly’s done an excellent job discussing the contemporary/realistic books that may be considered for the awards so far, so I’d like to concentrate on the SFF ones I think may (or should) have a shot. I won’t have read any of them – yet. But I plan to give most of them a read, and then review them here. I’ve actually never set out to read titles that I specifically feel may merit awards, so this is going to be a bit new for me. I think keeping my to-read list within the realm of books I tend to enjoy – science fiction and fantasy – will make it a fun, rather than onerous, project.

Morris Award

Splintered by A. G. Howard: This re-imagining/spinoff/inspiration baby of Alice in Wonderland has gotten a lot of positive reviews, and they compliment the writing in particular.

In the Shadow of Blackbirds by Cat Winters: I wasn’t a big fan of this one, but I know plenty of people who are, and most of them point to the moody atmosphere Winters created. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were shortlisted.

The Madman’s Daughter by Megan Shepherd: This is a re-telling of the Island of Dr. Moreau from his daughter Juliet’s point of view. Gory and creepy, it’s also quite well-written (I’ve read the first few chapters).

Coda by Emma Trevayne: I’m pleasantly surprised by the positive attention Trevayne’s debut has been getting, mainly because it’s a dystopian-ish story, which seems on the outs critically these days. It’s also a paperback original, not published by a Big Six publisher, and has been nominated for the Rainbow List. This is one to watch for, I think.

Thin Space by Jody Casella: I hadn’t even heard of this book until I started poking around, looking for likely contenders. Casella’s debut features SFF elements only peripherally, and judging from the synopsis, it’s not quite clear if those elements are real or only in the protagonist’s mind. What is clear (at least from the reviews I’ve read) is that Casella has a heck of a way of exploring what grief can do to a person.

All Our Yesterdays by Cristin Terrell: Another futuristic SF book with dystopian elements. It’s garnered a star from Kirkus, pushing it to the top of my dystopia to-read list.

Printz Award

Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick: Kelly mentioned this one already, but I feel like it merits another mention simply for the sheer number of starred reviews it’s gotten – five. It probably goes without saying that I love it when SFF gets that kind of attention. It sounds pretty experimental, as well, and when done successfully, that seems to kill in awards.

The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey: This one’s gotten huge buzz, and Yancey already has some Printz credit from The Monstrumologist. I love stories about aliens, so am definitely looking forward to checking it out.

Quintana of Charyn by Melina Marchetta: I started Finnikin of the Rock a few years ago, set it down, and then never picked it up again (except to return it to the library). I’ve read that the characters are real and flawed and complex and that the story will break your heart. I plan to give it another shot, particularly since it’s so reminiscent of the high fantasy books I read as a teen myself: a huge, sweeping story with detailed geography and complex world-building.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson: I love that this is set in a futuristic Brazil, that it’s got some dystopian themes but also seems to forge its own path plot-wise. Reviews say this book’s themes as well as strong writing make it one to watch.

Gorgeous by Paul Rudnick: This is actually one I’ve started reading, and I’m already excited about it at chapter 3. The voice is unique and very teen, but I’m even more excited about the premise. An average girl who considers herself unremarkable in every way is offered an incredible opportunity: a mysterious man who knew her mother tells her he can make her three dresses, and they’ll transform her into the most gorgeous girl in the world – quite literally. I expect a lot of biting satire about advertising, materialism, and our looks-obsessed culture.

Mortal Fire by Elizabeth Knox: Knox already has some Printz cred with Dreamquake, which snagged an honor in 2008. I read the first chapter and am a bit lost so far, but I plan to persevere. Reviews call this novel complex as well as beautifully written, if a bit dense. For the Printz, dense isn’t necessarily a bad thing.