In my ALA rundown, I shared a couple of things I learned about the Stonewall Award and about the Batchelder award. Last year, I wrote an entire blog post about how important it is to field nominate books you love and that are eligible for the selection and award lists.

Two of the books I nominated this year from the field ended up on the lists I nominated them for. That made me so happy.

All of that said, I thought as a means of sharing some of the thoughts I’m having about this year’s awards and in light of knowing that there are rules to these lists not everyone knows about, I’d make a bullet point of FYIs about the Youth Media Awards, field nominations, eligibility, and more.

On Award/Selection List Reactions

* First and foremost, the committees making these lists and choosing these awards work tirelessly to do this. They are not paid. Many pay their own way to not only attend these conferences to do their committee work, but there are times they are paying their own money to acquire the books. These committees are reading hundreds of books to get a sense of what’s out there, and they are reading with the mission of their committee at hand. That means those on the Quick Picks committee are reading books with a keen eye toward books that are of very high appeal to teen readers. Those on the Printz are not reading the books with interest in teen appeal but instead are reading with an eye toward literary merit. Committee members are reading anywhere from 200 to 400 books and many of those are rereads. This is more books than almost anyone else reads in a year.

* As such, whatever opinions people have about what’s missing and what’s been “shut out” are fine to have, but it is not okay to then share those opinions with those serving on the committees. It’s rude. Likewise, just because a book doesn’t appeal to you, it doesn’t mean the book doesn’t appeal to a reader out there. So the argument that “no one likes that book” is just ignorant. Obviously, a committee out there did, and they did so with an eye toward potential readership. And no, potential readership does not mean readership for all. Sometimes, it means highly specific readership. Which, of course, is still readership. As someone who watched the process for the Alex from the inside, I’ve been bothered by how many people have said sort of weird things to me. I watched the committee deliberate, defend, and become incredibly sad about favorite titles making or not making the lists. It’s not an easy process. And I promise that whatever title you felt like was shut out or was overlooked was most likely NOT.

* People on these committees don’t have an agenda to shut out titles. They aren’t out to get anyone. They’re out to develop the best possible award and selection lists possible.

* Popularity in the main stream and “best-seller” does not an automatic in make. Sure, John Green earned a million accolades last year for his book. But that doesn’t mean a Printz is his to have. Nor does it mean he automatically is one of the top ten best fiction titles for young adults. The reactions by those believing this to be the case are short sighting committee work.

* Additionally, there are no “onlys” here. Again, I return to the John Green point because the number of posts pointing that he “only” got an Odyssey Award are not only devaluing the Odyssey Award (which is an incredible honor!), but they’re also further devaluing the work of the committees who chose to select other titles for their lists/awards. Again, nothing is owed to anyone, despite how well they’ve done elsewhere. If that were the case, what would the point of committee work like this be?

On Field Nominations/Award Eligibility


* Anyone can field nominate titles, unless they are the author, editor, or publisher of the title. I’ve outlined this before. Didn’t see a title you loved on a selection list? Rather than say the committee overlooked it, why not nominate it and know that it was looked at? I can say that every single one of the field nominations received on the Alex was discussed in some capacity and I believe every single one of them was read by a committee member (I say I believe because there may have been a title or two that were deemed ineligible or outside the scope of the committee that were field nominated).

* Best Fiction for Young Adults includes titles published between September 1 of the previous year through December 31 of the current year. This means that the BFYA list for 2013 included titles from September 1, 2011 through December 31, 2012. What this means is that titles published between September 1, 2012 and December 31, 2012 are eligible for BFYA 2014. So titles like Anna Jarzab’s The Opposite of Hallelujah and Adele Griffin’s All You Never Wanted can be nominated for the coming year’s list as soon as nominations open. So can books like Emily Hainsworth’s Through to You and Tiffany Schmidt’s Send Me A Sign. Guess what books are on my list to nominate?

* Passionate about a book you’ve read? NOMINATE IT as soon as you think to do so. The form takes almost no time. Even if the book doesn’t end up on a list, at least you have the peace of mind knowing you did your part. Because you can complain all you want to about how things shake out, but unless you’ve also stepped up, the fault is partially yours.

* You can nominate titles for the big awards, too. Spend some time reading the eligibility requirements on YALSA’s site.

* Are you a member of YALSA and still unhappy? Then volunteer to be on a committee. Can’t get on a committee? Get your name out there to be an admin on one. See the process or be a part of it.

* Most importantly: trust the process. No one is taking shortcuts here. No one. The people on these committees want to produce the most amazing lists possible. They are just as heart broken as anyone else when titles don’t make the cut. Sometimes, they’re also not happy about what does. But it is part of the process.

Additional ALA/Division Award and Selection Lists

* ALSC, the children’s services division of ALA, also produces a list of notable books, which includes titles not only for children, but also younger teens. Here is this year’s notables list.

* RUSA, the reference/adult services division of ALA, also produces a list of books. Becky over at RA for All gives an incredible rundown of what these lists are for, and she has the links to their best titles, including lists made of genre fiction.

* There’s also the Amelia Bloomer Project — out of the Social Responsibilities Round Table and Feminist Task Force — for books that are particularly feminist. Learn about that here and see the notable 2013 titles.

* Don’t forget about the Stonewall Awards, for titles with LGBTQ at the heart of them. This project is out of ALA’s LBGT Round Table. Like the BFYA, the eligibility for titles on this one allows for prior year titles — meaning that books like AS King’s Ask the Passengers and Kirstin Cronn-Mills’s Beautiful Music for Ugly Children are eligible in 2014. So maybe it’s worth nominating them over there if you’re so inclined.

* But wait. There’s ALSO the Rainbow List out of the LGBT Round Table. You can learn all about that here, and you can check out this year’s list.

Of Final Note


* There are some committees that operate entirely closed, like Alex and the Printz. This means that discussions aren’t open to anyone at ALA. There are some committees, like BFYA, which are entirely open. But in either case, there are levels to which members can and cannot speak about the process and decision making. Asking about it can, in many ways, be rude or come across as offensive. Asking, for example, how one book made it and not another is rude. Asking what the criteria were outside of what’s listed on the YALSA website is also rude. Don’t do it. It puts committee members in an awkward position and compromises their work.

Trust the process.

I hope that’s a valuable amount of insight for anyone who is wondering why things happened as they did this year. Likewise, I hope it’s motivation for anyone who has considered nominating titles to just do so — and of course, I hope knowing about the other amazing lists produced and vetted by librarians at ALA further expands your literary horizons.

Kimberly and I like to do a mid-year Printz and Morris award prediction post, and then we like to follow it up before the actual Youth Media Awards to take a stab at what we think the winners and honorees could be. Since we know the Morris shortlist already, at least we have a 1 in 5 shot of guessing correctly.

Kelly’s Predictions


Morris Award

I already talked at length about Seraphina and the Morris Award, and even though it’s one of the titles I haven’t read yet, I put my bets on it. Seraphina earned six starred reviews, and the reviews of it outside the trades were glowing. It combines literary merit with reader appeal. As much as I loved Laura Buzo’s Love and Other Perishable Items, I think it may lack in the literary department at the end of the day. That’s not to say it’s not literary or well written — it is — but I think Seraphina will edge the other titles out.

Printz Award


I’ve been horrible about keeping up with commenting over at the Someday My Printz blog, but I have kept a close eye on it. I’ve also been spending a little time over at Crossreferencing, too, because there’s been a lot of good discussion of Printz titles there. Between those two blogs, my own reading, and other review reading, I’ve got a few titles that are standing out to me as potential Printz picks.

A number of these titles are ones I was thinking about at the mid-way point of 2012. I don’t want to say last year was a bad year for YA fiction, but it might have been a weaker year for literary, Printz-y fiction.

Let me start with my dark horse title. I saw this pop up over at Crossreferencing as a dark horse title, and the more I think about it, the more I think there just may be something to this title that could give it an honor.

Anna Jarzab’s The Opposite of Hallelujah has much to unpack. There’s not only spirituality and religion, but there’s family dynamics, there’s PTSD, there’s disordered eating, there’s romance, and then there’s science and art and so much more. The writing is great, the pacing is strong, and even if it’s not a perfect book, I do think it has a lot of the qualities of a Printz title.

I’ve been keeping an eye on the reviews of Jarzab’s title on Goodreads, and I’m surprised and baffled by the fact there are only 56 reviews. The book came out in early October, so it hasn’t been around a super long time, but that still seems like a very low number of reviews. A number of bloggers who I read have read and reviewed this one to similarly strong positive opinions as mine. I’d love to see this title get more attention, and I think it’s possible the Printz committee could look favorably upon so many elements of the story.

Both Kat Rosenfield’s Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone and Adam Rapp’s The Children and the Wolves were titles on my mid-year list, and I still stand by them both. Rosenfield’s book didn’t make any of the “best of” lists this year, which was a shocker to me. The writing, the dual perspectives, and the mystery woven throughout were compelling. This book is literary without trying too hard to be so. As for Rapp’s title, I think it’s the way he tackles such a horrid story that makes it stand out. The writing is strong, the three voices are distinct, and the way he manages to make these kids so middle school, despite their awful situations, is noteworthy.

I think Martine Leavitt’s My Book of Life by Angel has a good shot, too, and this hasn’t gotten a whole lot of talk, either. It’s a realistic title, set in the late 80s (or maybe early 90s) and it’s told in verse. This is a story about a girl caught up in childhood prostitution in Vancouver. It’s a painful, dark read and its writing is strong. Leavitt’s been a National Book Award finalist before, so she’s got the writing chops.

I don’t need to say much more about AS King’s Ask the Passengers which hasn’t already been addressed by Kim and my’s joint review.

I haven’t read Elizabeth Fama’s Monstrous Beauty, but Kimberly has. From the reviews, it sounds like it has the literary chops of Printz-muster. Even though I wasn’t enamored with Elizabeth Wein’s Code Name Verity the way many others were, I do think there’s something to be said about not only the number of starred reviews it earned, but the number of times it appeared on last year’s “best of” lists. In my own reading, I see what’s working here and I see how it has the traits to take it to Printz contender.

I think Matthew Quick’s Boy21 might be another dark horse title, but it’s one that I think has the potential. It’s well-written, tackles race and fitting in and does so without ever becoming an issue book, and it has that something to it that feels classic. I’ve also already spent significant time talking about why Antonia Michaelis’s The Storyteller feels like a Printz to me. It’s dark. It’s a fairy tale. It’s got so much literary depth to it. It reminds me, like I’ve mentioned before, of Janne Teller’s Nothing.

My last Printz prediction — and I know I’ve offered up more than 5 by this point — is Rachel Hartman’s Seraphina, for all of the reasons I listed about as to why it’s the most likely Morris winner. Do I think this year can see a debut on the Printz list as well as the Morris list, like last year? I do.

I lied. A couple other title contenders include The Wicked and the Just (another title overlooked on the “best of” lists) and Margo Lanagan’s The Brides of Rollrock Island. I wonder, too, about Jodi Anderson’s Tiger Lily.

Note I still don’t include John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars here. I think the title has too much baggage attached to it for people to read it without seeing the actual problems which may exist in it. I haven’t read it personally, but, there is something to be said about how many lists it made and how much people just expect it to be a Printz. I still stand by the statement that I don’t think it will make the cut.

Kimberly’s Predictions


I agree almost completely with Kelly’s picks. Since this year was a pretty slim reading year for me, I don’t have any to add. I did want to highlight Code Name Verity, Ask the Passengers, and The Wicked and the Just as having particular Printz possibility, though. It should come as no shock to you that I’m rooting for Code Name Verity. Historical fiction books are often awards darlings (such as the Newbery last year), and this book was so well-crafted. (I don’t think any other book deserves the term “well-crafted” as much as this one.) The other two are great books, too, with The Wicked and the Just being a bit of a dark horse. Like the folks at Someday My Printz Will Come, I felt the chapters from Gwenhwyfar’s perspective were a bit weaker, but the book overall is original, well-researched, and integrates the two girls’ character arcs with the historical setting very, very well.

Still, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the winner turned out to be a book that flew completely under the radar, that I didn’t even think to consider, but that, after some thought, I should have included. That’s how these things generally seem to go, and it always makes the award ceremony exciting. (That said, I would shed not a single tear if Code Name Verity won, thereby proving me right after all…)

I love the Morris Award. I love everything it stands for. This is an award that, without doubt, changes the lives of the authors who are finalists and who are winners. The award’s entire purpose is to highlight not just outstanding debut novels that showcase strong writing and appeal to teen readers, but also writers who have work that is exciting and who have the capacity of deliver even more outstanding work down the road. These are books and authors that show potential. The rationale, listed under the policies of the Morris Committee, states: “We believe it is valuable to use the strength of our organization’s reputation and expertise to widely publicize and forthrightly honor these “first-time” books and their authors.”

Before proceeding, let me state this discussion is not at all about the hard work done by the committee or by the hard work done by any authors under discussion. Likewise, it is not a means of discounting the books discussed nor undermining their strengths. In other words, this has nothing to do with the books or those involved in decision making for this year’s short list. Rather, this is a post I hope generates some discussion. You should also make sure you check out Liz’s take on this topic because she and I have been discussing it at length. 

The Morris Awards have a short and, I think, fairly clear policy. The award and the finalists are to be books by first-time authors who have not published in the past. This means that authors who have written for the adult market or the children’s market and are making their first foray into YA are not eligible. It means authors who published under a pseudonym in the past but are now using their first names are not eligible. It means authors who may have worked with a ghost writer who has published in the past are not eligible. 

Rather than delineate all of the things that don’t define first-time author, I’ll go ahead and copy the eligibility criteria from the Morris site: 

1. The award and honor book winner(s) must be authors of original young adult works of fiction in any genre, nonfiction, poetry, a short story collection, or graphic work.
2. The award winner(s) must not have previously published a book for any audience. Books previously published in another country, however, may be considered if an American edition has been published during the period of eligibility.
3. Works of joint authorship are eligible, but only if all contributors meet all other criteria. For example, graphic works created by an author and an illustrator are eligible, but only if both contributors have never published before.
4. Books must have been published between January 1 and December 31 of the year preceding announcement of the award.
5. Edited works and anthologies are not eligible.
6. The short list may consist of up to five titles.
7. The award may be given posthumously provided the other criteria are met.
8. The winner and short-listed book authors are encouraged to attend an award ceremony following the announcement of the award at ALA’s Midwinter Meeting.
9. If during a specific year, no title is deemed sufficiently meritorious, no award will be given that year.
10. The chair, with assistance from designated YALSA staff, is responsible for verifying the eligibility of all nominated titles.
11. To be eligible, a title must have been designated by its publisher as being either a young adult book or one published for the age range that YALSA defines as “young adult,” i.e., 12 through 18. Books published for adults or for younger children are not eligible.
12. To be eligible, a title must be widely available in the US to libraries and teens.
13. Titles that are self-published, published only in eBook format, and/or published from a publisher outside of the US will not be considered eligible until the first year the book is available in print through a US publishing house.

Looking at this year’s finalists, we see a little bit of everything. Laura Buzo’s Love and Other Perishable Items was eligible because, despite being published outside of the US prior to 2012, it didn’t make a US debut until this year. After the Snow is Crockett’s first and only book, as is Barnaby’s Wonder Show and Emily Danforth’s The Miseducation of Cameron Post (though interesting to note — a draft of Cameron Post was published as Danforth’s PhD dissertation). 

However — and this is something I didn’t realize back when I was making Morris predictions earlier this year — Seraphina is not Rachel Hartman’s first published book.

It’s not a secret anyone is keeping. Hartman talks about her self-published comic Amy Unbounded in her blog, and she even got a nice review of it in Publishers Weekly. She received a Xeric Foundation Grant to support the endeavor, and she got a nice write up on Strange Horizons, as well. 

There is a fascinating discussion over on the Someday My Printz Will Come blog in the comments about what this self-published title means in terms of Hartman’s book being eligible for this year’s Morris. Now that the short list is out there (and early, I may add — the Morris policy states that the finalists are announced on the second Monday in December, but they were announced on Thursday, December 6, which is the first Thursday in December), we know that the self-published title didn’t impact Seraphina‘s eligibility. 

Rereading the policy, it’s the last item on the list, #13, that seems to be where there is acknowledgement of the impact of self-published titles. Self-published books or those only available as eBooks are not eligible until the first year the book is available in print through a US house (note that rule #13 was implemented this year, per the President’s Report, which begs the question of why no one noticed this or why it wasn’t further discussed in March). Though it is not spelled out, but by the logic of the way rule #13 is written, it would be a Catch-22 for Amy Unbounded to be what disqualifies Seraphina from being eligible. Since Amy Unbounded wasn’t itself eligible under the rules, then it wasn’t a first book. Had it been published through a standard publisher, it would have been what kept Seraphina from becoming eligible.

Again, this post is not a discussion of Seraphina‘s merits or the committee’s decision to make it a finalist. In fact, I thought this was a non-surprise title, since it garnered so many positive and starred reviews. Rather, this is meant to question what a first novel really and truly is, and whether or not a self-published title is or is not a novel.

I’m not convinced that self-publishing a book is not, in fact, publishing a title. An author does it for any number of reasons: they can’t find a traditional outlet, they prefer not to go through a traditional outlet, and so on and so forth. It doesn’t really matter why they chose not to go that route. What it comes down to is wanting to put a book out there and share their works. For some, there is a lot of time and money involved in self-publishing (via hiring an editor, copy editor, designers, and so forth) and for others, it’s a one-person show. 

By putting a self-published book out there, aren’t the authors who choose to do that publishing a book? They are, in some capacity, not only growing a readership but they’re hoping to bring in some sort of income from it (even if it’s minuscule). How does their choice to self-publish diminish the fact that they published a book? Whatever method people chose to publish, they’re still publishing and developing a product available for reader consumption. A book is a book, whatever format it takes to get to that point. 

This leads me then to wonder why it is that self-published books are excluded as “previously published books for any audience.” If that’s the case, I’d accept it much better if the eligibility rules addressed this straight up, rather than dancing around it a little bit. Is there something sticky in stating bluntly that self-published books are not previously published books? That the “self” status in front of “published” disqualifies it or makes it less legitimate? 

Part of why I’m thinking about this is that it makes me wonder, then, why new ventures from authors who published for other audiences are disqualified from the Morris. Why is it that someone who has only published for adults and then chooses to try out a YA title disqualified? Or someone who has had their first book published as middle grade then chooses to try out YA in their next book? Sometimes, the audience of a particular book isn’t determined by the author but rather the publisher. Another thought: what about books that are published for a highly specific, non-fiction market? Liz herself is a co-author on Pop Goes the Library — a guide for librarians and the use of pop culture. If she were to write a novel, why would that prior non-fiction title (with a small, specialized audience) disqualify her as a new voice in YA fiction? It was published through a professional press, rather than a big publisher. It was not self-published, but it would still count as a first book by technicality. 

Sure these examples make the playing field much broader and doesn’t necessarily represent new voices on a grand scale. But how does a first-time traditionally-published book represent a new voice any differently if the book’s author has self-published in the past? There’s little argument it means a potentially bigger readership, potentially stronger editing, and potentially stronger marketing, but those are not at all guarantees. Look at the number of recently acquired self-published titles or fan fiction titles that went straight from where they were to press with little hand from anyone in the middle. 

Many of us who love the Morris have been wondering about the implications of self-publishing, and this year’s finalists definitely answer the question for us. But it does raise more questions about what a first novel truly is, and what self-publishing is or is not. 

From my perspective, a published book is a published book, whether it’s through traditional means or self-publishing means. 

Since it’s the mid-year point and we’ve read a number of YA titles for the year, we thought we’d give it a go on our predictions for potential Printz and Morris titles. This is in no way scientific but rather based on what we’ve read ourselves, what we’ve read via the various reviews, and just some good old gut feelings.  

Kelly’s Predictions 


To be honest, very little has stood out to me this year so far as Printz-worthy. There have been way more books that have sort of emerged into the Morris-worthy pile for me, and I’m going to make the bold prediction that the future Printz winner will be a debut novelist.

Printz Contenders

I’m pretty sure it’s heresy to not list the John Green book here, right? I’m okay with that. Green’s book garnered a lot of praise and earned a number of stars. I don’t plan on reading it, so I can’t comment on what it does or doesn’t accomplish on a literary scale. But what I can say is this: I think it’s going to be very hard to fairly assess his book and separate John Green from it. So while it’s made a bunch of Printz contender lists, I wonder how much of it has to do with the book itself and how much has to do with it being a John Green product. Either way, I don’t see it making the list.

The Children and the Wolves by Adam Rapp is one of my leading contenders. I’ve reviewed it and called it as much. It’s literary, it’s dark, it’s gripping, and it’s memorable. If I were to compare it to past Printz books, I’d put it up there with Janne Teller’s Nothing in terms of what it accomplishes.

Catch & Release was another early standout in my mind this year, and it’s another one I’ve reviewed. Woolston’s reputation for strong, literary writing was cemented when she won the Morris award for The Freak Observer, and as much as I liked that book, I think Catch & Release was an even stronger book.

Drowning Instinct by Ilsa J. Bick stands out in my mind because it has great voice, strong writing, and it sort of resonates with me on the same level that Lucy Christopher’s Printz honored Stolen did. I reviewed this one earlier. 

Perhaps the biggest book of the year in terms of buzz (after the Green book, of course) is Elizabeth Wein’s Code Name Verity. This book is either going to be all or nothing in my mind, and by that I mean, it’s either going to sweep the awards or it’s going to be like that time Gary Schmidt didn’t get any love for Okay for Now when everyone thought it was a no-brainer to sweep the awards. My opinion on Wein’s book is the unpopular one — I found it incredibly slow and boring. I think the book required a lot of interest on the part of the reader in a lot of niche subject areas. I’m not a huge World War II era fan, and stories about pilots and spies don’t resonate with me. That said, I get what Wein accomplished in the book and see why so much love has been bestowed.

Paulo Bacigalupi’s The Drowned Cities has also gotten a ton of great reviews, and despite having already won a Printz award, the reviews of this one suggest it might even be stronger than Ship Breaker. I have not read this one, but reviews like this make me want to.

I was really unimpressed with Karen Hesse’s Safekeeping, but I think a lot of what made me dislike the book will be what is appealing for many others. It’s a dystopia, but it’s not futuristic. It’s a series of cohesive vignettes that are layered with photographs to give readers a sense of this world being wholly ours and not anything but our world. It’s a twist on the trope, and the writing itself is strong. I just found the plot to be disappointing.

Those are my biggest picks for the Printz right now — excluding a few I’m going to talk about under the Morris category. A couple other possibilities I’ve thought about are AS King’s Ask the Passengers (which was my favorite of King’s books to date), Lindsey Barraclough’s Long Lankin (which I loved and will blog about soon), Melina Marchetta’s Froi of the Exiles, Pete Hautman’s The Obsidian Blade, and maybe Matthew Quick’s Boy21.

Morris Contenders

The number of contenders in this category is pretty large, in my mind, and I think so many of them are crossover contenders for the Printz. 

If there was one book all year that has stood out to me as a Morris (and Printz) contender this year based on reviews alone, it’s J Anderson Coats’s The Wicked and the Just. It’s received three star reviews and the blog reviews I’ve read have found it to be great.

Also racking up a few stars is SD Crockett’s After the Snow, which I reviewed here. I think the writing itself was decent though I found the plot to be a bit confusing and I found the main character to have been a bit inconsistent and underdeveloped. But professional reviews seemed to have seen a lot more to this book than me. This one is also a potential Printz book in my mind.

Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone by Kat Rosenfield is one of my favorites this year (and the review is forthcoming). It’s eerily reminiscent of Nova Ren Suma’s Imaginary Girls, except it is not at all magical realism. It’s a contemporary with a mystery woven in it about growing up and making choices about whether to leave the place you’re comfortable with or leave it all behind. The writing is top notch. 

I wasn’t thrilled with Emily Danforth’s The Miseducation of Cameron Post but without doubt, it is a literary heavyweight and deserves recognition for what it achieves. It racked up four starred reviews, as well. This is another one I can see the Printz committee spending a little time with as well.

Erin Saldin’s The Girls of No Return is a story that I keep returning to in my mind. It’s risky, and it’s well-written, and I think those two things will give it a boost with the committee.

I have not read Rachel Hartman’s Seraphina because it’s not really my cup, but I’ve read some great reviews of this fantasy title. It’s supposed to be well written and have great world building. I like that the cover has a dragon on it, which ultimately is what will push the Morris committee over to this title (I jest).

There are a couple other titles I think could be Morris titles at this stage in the game, but I’ve had a harder time committing them down in my predictions. The Morris award does a good job of selecting books that fall on both sides of the literary/commercial divide, so it’s hard to know precisely what will or won’t make a book stand out to them (they care more about appeal to audience than the Printz award does). I’ve personally nominated a title for consideration, which is Trish Doller’s Something Like Normal, and obviously, I’d love to see that one among the selected.

Kimberly’s Predictions

I think these sort of predictions are always tough for me, mostly because I read so much genre fiction, which is usually overlooked by awards committees. I’ve read some novels that I thought were terrific this year, but not a whole lot that I feel could be real contenders for the Printz or the Morris.

 Of the 2012 books I’ve read, Grave Mercy and Cinder are my favorites so far. Cinder is a debut, but I don’t think it has the “literary chops” (whatever that really means) to nab a Morris. That said, the Morris committee usually shortlists a good mix of genre and contemporary books, so it’s not out of the running. Grave Mercy is not a debut and I don’t consider it a Printz contender, despite its quality. (Perhaps it’s because I had too much fun reading it? Sorry, that’s an unfair jab at the Printz committees.) I also thoroughly enjoyed Monstrous Beauty (full review to come later – this one should be on your radar), but it’s not a debut, so it’s out of the running for the Morris. Meg Rosoff’s There is No Dog has gotten some positive critical feedback, and she’s a previous Printz winner, so there’s some possibility there. 

Of the 2012 books I haven’t read, there are a few standout titles worth mentioning that have gotten some award buzz. Kelly’s mentioned a few of them and I agree with most of her picks – they’re definite contenders – so won’t rehash them here. I will add a few: Under the Never Sky by Veronica Rossi has gotten at least two starred reviews and could be a contender for the Morris; Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo is another Morris contender I’ve also heard many good things about; Insignia by S. J. Kincaid could be under consideration for the Morris as well. (All three of these books are also ones I plan to read myself!)

As for the Printz, I don’t have much to add that Kelly hasn’t already mentioned. I’ve been concentrating on reading books I know I will enjoy this year, and, well, Printz-worthy titles usually aren’t ones that make my favorites list.

What are your thoughts? Anything we missed or anything we’re way off on?