Introduction

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When I think about YA or teen literature, I find it helpful to consider David Levithan's definition:

YA is the genre that mines emotional trenches and examines the experience of becoming.*

This definition widens the scope of YA considerably, but does not dilute its essence.

While people often talk about teens as one demographic, when we are talking about teen literature, we need to think not of demographics but of individual kids and what kinds of stories will help them through their teens and into adulthood, whether they need challenge, comfort, entertainment, or escape. They need to find themselves in the stories we display on our library shelves and also found a safe place to engage with those who are not like them.

Not every book will appeal to every reader, so we need to make an effort to include diverse books in our YA/teen collections. We need diversity in terms of race, culture, and background as well as sexual orientation and gender identity. We also need books to be diverse in format: some teen readers enjoy a dense textual narrative that challenges and brings new insights; others are reluctant readers and would find graphic novels more welcoming (though that is not to say that graphic novels are only for reluctant readers). For some, realistic fiction that portrays the world more or less as they experience it will appeal, but for others, fantasy or science fiction will be more accurately portray the emotional truth of what they are feeling.



* Retrieved from: https://www.instagram.com/p/3q0wqKqo9r/

All book cover images were downloaded from goodreads.com.

Why We Broke Up - by Daniel Handler

This book is a departure from Handler's work for younger readers under the pen-name of Lemony Snicket. I found The Series of Unfortunate Events to be delightful from the very first sentence, so it took a little while for Min and Ed's romance to draw me in. I read those books with my children, and I have particularly fond memories and inside jokes about these books to this day. Having said that, I don't think this sort of nostalgia for childhood books will affect the teen reader in the same way, even if they do happen to connect Handler and Snicket.

The "hook" that will draw readers into this book is the box of objects Min is returning to Ed, mementos of their failed romance. I think this works as an effective way to tell a story. As we are shown each object in turn in a full page illustration, Min recounts the object's history and its part in the romance and subsequent break-up. She ends most chapters with "and this is why we broke up", invoking and explaining the title of the book. This formulaic set up works well to piece the story together into a coherent whole. It also works nicely because we notice when the formula is broken, as in the instance of the "Real Recipes of Tinseltown" that Ed and Min find on their early morning trip to Tip Top Goods, when Min writes, "I hate to give it back to you, this complicated thing, it's why we stayed together"(p. 142).

While I am not one to insist upon books teaching lessons or having a moral . . . a good story needs neither, this book does provide an interesting look at how teens (and girls especially, I think) can lose themselves in their relationships. They forget what gave them joy before finding their new partner. They invest all of themselves into the new person, ignoring,  old friends and interests. This loss of identity is especially bleak when the relationship ends, as we see in Min's tirade of self-hatred that goes on for almost three pages (pp. 335-337). Thinking back to Levithan's definition of YA, her romance with Ed in some ways interrupts who she was becoming and enter his world, where she is bored and unhappy a lot of the time.

This is a good book to have in a YA/teen collection because it deals with teen relationships, love, sex, friendship, cliques. In Min, we have a heroine who doesn't always make the right choices, but does have a strong support system in her group of friends, especially Al, who, it seems, is always there to pick up the pieces.

Problems this book might encounter
The book portrays teenage sexuality as well as underage drinking.

References

Handler, D. (2012). Why we broke up. Harper Collins: Toronto.

The Book Thief - by Marcus Zusak

The Book  Thief  adds a historical dimension to the coming of age novel. History can be a very dry subject, even the horrors of the holocaust can get lost in the sheer vastness of the numbers (even though those numbers are themselves a part of the horror.) It is important to learn the facts, but it is even more important to learn why they are important, and for this we need stories. The Book Thief is very effective in weaving in those facts into Liesel's story, with Death giving statistics about Dachau and Stalingrad (among others). While it's true that we have trauma and tragedy streamed into our lives, so much so that we can become numb to them, books like this one encourage us to slow down, consider one life, one family, one community.


Telling a story like this one is difficult to do well, but I think Zusak succeeds for a number of reasons. Making Liesel a thief who's not afraid to throw a punch as well as an outsider, an abandoned child makes her easy to root for. The rest of the characters are equally complex, and this complexity works well to prevent any obvious moralizing, which teen readers are especially wary of, and who especially do not want to be preached at. In my mind, the book that stands in stark contrast with The Book Thief is Boyne's The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, which is problematic on many levels, notwithstanding the obvious plot hole of a hole in the fence surrounding a concentration camp.

Problems this book might encounter
While this book would clearly be challenged by holocaust deniers, I can see no other issues with the inclusion of this book in YA/teen collection. The shear number of deaths, especially at the end as Death tells about collecting the souls of most of the characters, could be seen as too traumatic for a younger reader, but the majority of teen readers should be able to handle it. This is an important book to include in a YA collection because of its historical element. While some think that the holocaust is old news, one has only to look at the political situation in the US, and the hate crimes being committed to be reminded that we need to remember.

References

Zusak, M. (2005). The book thief. Knopf: New York.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane - by Neil Gaiman

This was my second read of Ocean at the End of the Lane. The first time I listened to the audio book (read by Neil himself), which was delightful, but I was glad of chance to read the text. I picked up things that I missed the first time through. I usually listen to audiobooks while cooking, so my attention is divided, though I am usually more likely to burn something rather than miss a good bit of a story!

This is another book that refers to other books (Narnia being the most common), though the literary references are not as thick as in Jo Walton's Among Others. Our hero is a bookish lad, grown up to be an artist, who is back home for his father's funeral. The bookishness of the narrator and the literary references will appeal to readers who have read the Chronicles of Narnia

What I enjoyed most about this novel was the Hempstocks. In Wiersema's (2013) review in the Globe and Mail, they are compared to the pagan Triple Goddess (maiden - Lettie, mother - Ginnie, and Crone - Gran) or the fates (references to stitching the fabric of time) (para. 9). At first I thought this might be beyond the reach of the teen reader with little grounding in mythology, but reconsidered thinking of the popularity of the Percy Jackson series (which actually mentions the fates in the first book),  Further, a teen reader who is intrigued by the characters and their meaning in the story can simply go online and look it up!

One of the (many) things Gaiman does well is to portray our tendency to return to the place of our childhood when we are unsure what to do next, are grieving, or have great anxiety about the world. It is in these states of flux and un-sureness that we become vulnerable like children and susceptible to the workings of the greater story or myth within our own lives. Keeping in mind Levithan's definition of YA, we think about who and what we are becoming or have become.

While saying some wise and sweet things about childhood and adulthood, such as "I thought about adults. I wondered if that was true: if they were all really children wrapped in adult bodies, like children's books hidden in the middle of dull, long adult books, the kind with no pictures or conversations"(p. 113), Gaiman is not saccharine about childhood innocence:

I was a normal child. 

Which is to say, I was selfish and I was not entirely 

convinced of the existence of things that were not me, 

and I was certain, rock-solid unshakably certain,

that I was the most important thing in creation. 

There was nothing more important to me than I was. (p. 156)

What works well here are the elements of horror and myth and magic that surround the narrator's childhood fears. Without these elements, we are left with a sad story about a boy who loses his family home, and who inexplicably comes back to sit beside a pond to think about it years later.  There is an appeal to being scared, to believing that there are magical forces at work shaping our lives or even just shaping the story we are reading. Beyond that thrill of being scared, there is an emotional truth there. I think the horror elements in Ocean at the End of the Lane work well to show how those childhood fears feel - like monsters trying to steal your parents' hearts and affection. 

Possible Challenges for this book: 
I suppose this book could be challenged on the grounds that the Hempstocks could be construed to be witches? I'm grasping here, and I admit it. There is one sexual scene, a suicide, a little nudity. OK, maybe there is enough there for an overprotective parent to worry about.

References
Gaiman, N. (2013). The ocean at the end of the lane. HarperCollins: New York.

Wiersema, R. J. (2013, June 21). This novel is why your geeky friends rave about Neil Gaiman. The Globe and Mail. Retrieved from http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/books-and-media/book-reviews/this-novel-is-why-your-geeky-friends-rave-about-neil-gaiman/article12743057/ 

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - by Benjamin Salire Saenz

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is an important addition to our YA collection as an LGBTQ title. Though there are some problematic elements, the most glaring of which is that Ari does not come out, but was told he was gay by his parents. This strange, almost forced, ending notwithstanding, there is a lot in the novel to make it worthy of inclusion on our YA shelf.

Filgate's (2015) interview with David Levithan addressed the need for a wide spectrum of LGBTQ titles:

With some very notable exceptions, the LGBTQ YA spectrum was a very dark and miserable spectrum. Most of the stories being told about gay teens were ones about suicide, depression, and violence and outsider status and being an outcast. I was so sick of that because that did not reflect reality, or all reality. So I fueled my fire and wrote “Boy Meets Boy”(Response to Q9). 

I think Saenz accomplishes this with Aristotle and Dante to some extent. There is depression and violence and feeling like an outsider, but there is also the absolute joy of a new relationship with someone who feels right, which is, as the title suggests, one of the great secrets of the universe. Both Ari and Dante have very supportive parents, which  is a little surprising since Ari's mom is introduced as "preparing lunch for a meeting with her Catholic-Church-lady friends"(p. 8), which is a good example of the book moving away from stereotypes. Perhaps it is a little unrealistic that both Ari's and Dante's families are so supportive, but the book doesn't paint an overly rosy picture either given that Dante was brutally assaulted.

While this is a coming of age and a coming out novel, Ari never has an aha! moment when he admits to himself that he is gay. It's like he's maintaining radio silence on the subject, even in his own head, which is usually full to the brim of thoughts about everything, from his father's PTSD, to wanting to know about his brother in jail, to wanting to have a dog. Even in the end, Ari, doesn't come out; it's all about falling in love with Dante. He doesn't say "how could I have ever been ashamed of being gay"; instead he says "How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Date Quitana"(p. 359).

Problems this book may encounter
 This book will obviously encounter challenges for LGBTQ content as well as violence.

References
Filgate, M. (2015, August 28). How “Another Day” author David Levithan found his voice. Salon. Retrieved from: http://www.salon.com/2015/08/28/how_another_day_author_david_levithan_found_his_voice_most_of_the_stories_being_told_about_gay_teens_were_ones_about_suicide_depression_and_violence/

Saenz, B. A. (2012). Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe. Simon & Schuster: New York.

Eleanor & Park - by Rainbow Rowell

This is my second time through Eleanor & Park as I went on a bit of a Rainbow Rowell bender last Christmas (Fangirl, Carry On, Eleanor & Park, and Landline). It is still a heartbreaking read, beautiful and un-put-downable. The characters are odd and quirky, yet well drawn and believable.

I am not usually a fan of romance as a genre, but this is endearing because it is far from stereotypical. I think what feels particularly true about the story is how Eleanor and Park communicate with each other. They develop a shared language based on comics and music, which allows them to get to know each other without too many awkward conversations. Eleanor is so guarded about her family life that any personal questions send her running the other way. Depending on how dedicated a fan of the book is, finding the music or comics listed can be another way for a reader to immerse themselves in the book (though one would hope, that unlike Park, most readers would, at the very least, have heard of the Beatles!).

Including this romance in our YA collection is important because it is not what young people are used to seeing or reading. The couple is bi-racial, and Eleanor has a larger body type. (That is to say, they are not Hollywood's version of beautiful.) What Rowell does particularly well here is that she doesn't have them love each other despite their flaws or imperfections, but has those imperfections become loveable as the couple falls in love. Each character remarks on their physical characteristics with very little confidence or self love; in fact, they verge on self-loathing. They are sure they are too weird, too fat, too thin, too tall, too short, too weird to be attractive and that the other will break up with them. It is heartwarming and reassuring to see Eleanor through Park's eyes and vice versa.

The book also addresses the important issue of domestic violence. Park takes drastic action to get Eleanor to safety, even though it means he will not get to see her anymore, or at least not for a long time. In a classroom setting, this book could be used to start a discussion about services available for victims of domestic violence and things they can reasonably do to help (though this likely will not include driving to another city).

Because of the popularity of the book, I wondered if a movie adaptation was being made, but apparently a development deal with DreamWorks fell through in August of this year, so there is nothing currently in the works. Rowell was involved in writing the screenplay because she says she is "protective of Eleanor and Park because they’re the easiest to hurt. . . Those two characters would be the easiest to get wrong”(Whyte, 2016, para. 7).  I think I agree. A bad movie adaptation would be worse than no movie at all. 

Problems this book could encounter
The book includes teenage sexuality, some underage drinking, and domestic violence.

References
Whyte, M. (2016, September 12). Sorry Rainbow Rowell fans, the `Eleanor & Park' movie isn't happening. Hypable. Retrieved from http://www.hypable.com/rainbow-rowell-says-eleanor-and-park-movie-isnt-happening

Rowell, R. (2013). eleanor & park. St Martin's Griffin: New York.

The Fault in our Stars - John Green

What would a YA collection be without John Green novels? All kidding aside, his novels are incredibly popular, as are the films based on his books. As of Alter's (2015) article, The Fault in our Stars had sold over 18.5 million copies worldwide. This kind of popular novel can draw readers into the library, especially if they don't have the money to buy it in hardcover, though the wait is often quite long for popular new releases. And for this reason alone, I would add it to the collection.


The first time I read TFIOS, I cried, and I sobbed my way through the movie. I don't think the main objective of the book is to make the readers cry, but I think for a teen reader, this can be cathartic. We often talk about teens crying for no reason or about their moods swings. Having a novel to focus on can make some of the inexplicable emotion of adolescence easier to deal with.

But this is more than just a tear-jerker. This is a story for the survivors, for those whose days are not necessarily numbered by disease or diagnosis. Hazel has lived her life since her diagnosis trying to do as little harm as possible, to leave behind as little sadness as possible. She is not prepared to be the one left behind. The effect Augustus' death has on her speaks volumes, "It was unbearable. The whole thing. . . It felt . . . as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before"(p. 262). There are many other characters with their own takes on being left, Hazel's parents, Augustus' family, Peter Van Houten, and even Otto Frank's recorded voice. What are readers of this novel if not survivors as well? We can choose to survive well or to survive poorly. As Augustus writes to Van Houten, " You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers"(p. 313).

This is a book about teenagers in love, but it is also a book about their parents. While we get scenes of romance, where it seems like Hazel and Gus are the only two people in the world (notably: dinner in Amsterdam, their sexual experience in Gus' room, selling Hazel's swingset), the plot seems to come inexorably back to the parents. Hazel needs her mom to travel with her, because she is an expert in Hazel's medical condition. Gus' parents come into the story more and more as Gus gets sicker and needs them more. I think this is another element that will ring true for teenage readers. In my experience as the mother of a teenager, parents are cast in supporting roles. They are never centre-stage, but they absolutely still have to be there when you need them!

References

Alter, A. (2015, April 10). Her stinging critiques propel young adult best sellers. T.he New York Times. Retrieved from 
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/12/business/media/the-barbed-pen-behind-the-best-sellers-of-young-adult-fiction.html?_r=0 

Green, J. (2012). The fault in our stars. Dutton Books: New York.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian - by Sherman Alexie

I will preface this entry by saying that this is one of my very favourite books. I recommend it to friends (regardless of age) all the time; I follow Sherman Alexie on Twitter and Facebook. This is, surprisingly, only my second time through The Abosolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. My first time, I read it on an e-reader, and--likely through my own limited understanding of the reader's features--did not get to appreciate the drawings nearly as well as on paper. They are integral to the story and to Junior's character development.

The beauty of this book is that it is written about a very specific character from a very specific place (Arnold Spirit Junior from Spokane Indian reservation). What I'm getting at here is that there is no blank-slate main character that readers can fill in their own details to inhabit the story. And yet, somehow, it is easy to step into Junior's shoes. He is an engaging and inviting character.

Sherman Alexie manages to single-handedly create an entire world for you, offering such sharp insight and detail into Native American Indian culture, that you start to feel like you should be keeping a diary as a part-time Indian yourself. (Sposato, 2013, para 4). 

Alexie (2011) writes about an encounter with a 17-year-old reader who attended an elite private school, but who nonetheless identified with Junior's despair at the reservation school, because his father wanted him to join the military, and he wanted to be a writer. (para 18-21). The appeal of the book is universal because it taps into the painful part of growing up--having big dreams, but also beginning to realize that we have limitations and that some of those limitations are extremely unfair. The longing to escape family, while at the same time loving them more than anything.

It is a book that embraces the complexities of life. There are no perfect characters. Junior loves his family, but needs to leave the reservation to pursue his dreams. His thoughts about parenting highlight this: "Ever since I've been at Reardan, and seen how great parents do their parenting, I realize that my folks are pretty good. Sure, my dad has a drinking problem and my mom can be a little eccentric, but they make sacrifices for me. They worry about me. They talk to me. And best of all they listen to me  . . .  but those white dads can completely disappear without ever leaving the living room. They can just BLEND into their chairs. They become their chairs"(pp. 153--154).

This book is so accessible that it would be easy to trick a reluctant reader into enjoying something incredibly profound! Junior's observations about friendship, "yep, even weird boys are afraid of their emotions"(p. 132), and asking for help when you need it, "If you let people into your life a little bit, they can be pretty damn amazing"(p. 129), and even his appreciation of the five dollar bill his dad gave him for Christmas,"it was a beautiful and ugly thing"(p. 151) are profound, but not preachy,  which, I think, is a perfect description of a great YA book. Add to that a definition of grief that is absolutely perfect (for teenage boys) "When you feel so helpless and stupid that you think nothing will ever be right again, and your macaroni and cheese tastes like sawdust, and you can't even jerk off because it seems like too much trouble"(p. 172). Alexie in provides some humour describing the depths of despair. (Have I mentioned I love this book?)

Problems this book might encounter
This book has been on the top 10 most-challenged book lists since its publication in 2007. The book speaks about race and racism, bullying, alcoholism, violence, and masturbation. It can be a hard book to talk about, which, of course, is part of what makes it a great book. My son read this in Grade 6, and decided to present a book report to his class. Unfortunately, he chose to recreate some of the art, which works well in context, but comes off as really racist when a white kid does it. Fortunately, he had a good teacher, so some very good conversations happened in that classroom.
This is a book that needs to be in our libraries, in our YA/teen collections, and it needs librarians to ensure it stays there. Alexie (2011) writes the best defence of his book as follows:

I have yet to receive a letter from a child somehow debilitated by the domestic violence, drug abuse, racism, poverty, sexuality, and murder contained in my book. To the contrary, kids as young as ten have sent me autobiographical letters written in crayon, complete with drawings inspired by my book, that are just as dark, terrifying, and redemptive as anything I’ve ever read (para. 7).

References
Alexie, S. (2007). The absolutely true diary of a part-time Indian. Little Brown: New York, Boston.

Alexie S. (2011, June 9). Why the best kids books are written in blood. The Wall Street 
Journal. Retrieved from: http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2011/06/09/why-the-best-kids-books-are-written-in-blood/ 

Sposato, J. (2013). The absolutely true interview with Sherman Alexie, 

an amazing part-time Indian. Sadie Magazine. Retrieved from:

 http://sadiemagazine.com/past-issues/issue-no-4/c

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

Patrick Ness is an author of whom I am particularly fond. He spearheaded a fundraiser for Syrian Refugees in 2015, which rallied childrens' authors from around the world to raise over 200,000 pounds. It was truly inspiring.

I fell in love with his writing within the first few sentences of The Knife of Never Letting Go, the first volume of his Chaos Walking trilogy. I laughed out loud with delight. There is little to laugh about in A Monster Calls, but I would add it to any YA collection, nonetheless.

A Monster Calls tackles the difficult subject of losing a loved one, in this case losing a parent. Conor's Mom is dying of cancer, and this book is the story of how Conor processes this fact and all the feelings that surround it . . .being left adrift in the world, with only a grandmother who he doesn't get along with very well, feelings of sadness and pain, and feeling outcast and invisible at school. Most importantly, there is the guilt that Conor feels,because he has thought the unthinkable; he has wished for it all to be over and dreamed of letting his mother go to be taken by a monster, by death.

Though there is never a right age to deal with death in fiction (or in life), by our teenage years, most of us have lost someone dear to us, be it a grandparent, parent, friend, or even just a beloved pet. Teenagers are beginning to navigate the world on their own and to see beyond the platitudes they were told about death as children, "it was her time"; "God called him home"; "everything happens for a reason". This is a book that allows for the unleashing of grief, raw and real, in monster form, and the complexity of wanting both the platitudes and the truth. It is an acknowledgment that life is unfair, and that only by speaking our own truth can we make it through. "Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both"(p. 191).

While this book may not reflect the reality of most teen readers' lives (after all, very few of us have monstrous Yew trees out back waiting to be called to "come walking"), it reflects the emotional truth of how grief can feel, debilitating sadness coupled with anger coupled with despair. For those who have not lost a loved one, this book can provide a window into understanding what others are going through and can be a reminder that we don't always know what others are going through. The monster, the depth of feeling, rarely surfaces in daylight hours, and can be a surprise and a shock to those who don't know it is there. For all of these reasons, I recommend adding A Monster Calls to our YA collection.

Problems this book might encounter

This books could be seen as too intense for a young teen reader.

References
Ness, P. (2011). A monster calls. Candlewick Press: Somerville, MA.

Blankets - by Craig Thompson

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Thompson’s Blankets. It is a beautifully drawn coming of age story with elements of religion, faith, sexuality, and family. It is a good addition to a YA collection for these reasons as well as the surging popularity of graphic novels.

I think Blankets is a good addition to a YA collection, because there is just so much going on in the book. If any book "mined emotional depths and examined the experience of becoming", it is this book. Thompson's drawings quickly draw the reader in to Craig's experience of childhood, sharing a bed with his brother, bullying by kids at school, his father's temper, being molested by a babysitter and not being able to protect his brother from the same fate. There is very little to be nostalgic about. We see broken connections between Craig and his parents, and between Craig and his brother though the guild he feels about not having protected him. Thompson sums up this lack depicting Craig and Phil's competition to walk on the crust of the snow, " . . . but I knew I wasn't competing against him, but against myself--against my own clumsy humanity that had lost synchronization with the earth"(p. 134).

Craig tries two different ways to fill the void within him left by the lack of safety and connection in his childhood: religion and Raina. What is lovely about the depiction of Craig's relationship with Raina is that we get to see his idealized vision of her as well as Raina as a person in her own right, in the context of her own complicated family life. In the end though, neither Raina nor the religion he had learned as a child and studied as a young man could fill the void. He moves to the city, though he does maintain contact with his family, and seems to have a better relationship with his brother. His experiences in the city, some of which fill a need (the public library) and some of which only seem to increase his loneliness and hunger for the truth. He returns in the end to what he has loved all along, which was drawing, "how satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement - - no matter how temporary"(pp. 581-582).

This is a good addition to a YA collection because of Thompson's unique voice and style. It may not appeal to all teens, but a good number will find a friend in the tortured-artist protagonist, and his quest for answers and for love.

On a side note, I was also drawn in by the snow imagery, which seemed familiar and to make sense to me. I wonder if this book would appeal as much to those who no snowy experiences to draw on. 

Possible problems this book might encounter:

There are those who feel that some of the drawings are pornographic. This is a case where the novel should be properly shelved in a teen or YA area if one is available, and it should be clearly labelled as such. I would go so far as to suggest signs in the graphic novels section stating “not all comics are for kids” to prevent the unwary from exposing their children to something they were not ready for. Unfortunately, I think some parents will still have a problem with the book’s depiction of sexuality and of religion.

References

Thompson, C. (2015). Blankets. Drawn & Quarterly: Montreal.

Chopsticks - Jessica Anthony & Rodrigo Corral

This is a beautiful and  complex story told in pictures, drawings, newspaper clippings, text conversations, and photographs. I think it would appeal to both reluctant readers (because of the lack of dense text) as well as to those who like to be challenged. The pictures are just as dense as text could be, and some of the clues are easy to miss. It can be a quick read, but for those who become invested in the story, it could become an obsession as well.

Chopsticks includes some multi-media elements, which would be easily accessible by teens with their ever-present wi-fi enabled devices, although they would have to go to the trouble of typing in the links. This element of the book would work better as an e-book, where the reader could simply click to watch a clip or listen to a piece of music. I fear the quality of the images would be diminished, especially on an e-reader. Advances in phone and tablets screens may render this difficulty obsolete, though there are considerations for an electronic vs paper format. The book is larger than a traditional paperback, and thus lends itself well to sharing and discussion, which would be more difficult on an electronic device, though you do often see children and teens huddled around the smallest of screens, so perhaps this is only a difficulty from an adult perspective.

The book has more to recommend than its format. The story itself is a compelling one that can be read, in the beginning, as a straight romance between the boy and the girl next door (she is a child-prodigy concert pianist and he is a recent immigrant who is having trouble fitting in at school). The happier portions of Glory and Frank's story resemble a teenage girl's scrapbook, full of mementos, hopes and dreams and remembered conversations. (Though the reader does have to keep in mind that the story begins with the news of Glory's disappearance.) In the middle portion of the book, we see Glory unraveling and unable to keep up her concert performances and in almost constant conflict with her father. Towards the end of the book, clues appear in the images that indicate things are not what they seem. The logo for Glory's rehab. facility is the same as that of Frank's school. The paintings first attributed to Frank are now seen to be signed by Glory. What is real and what isn't? The reader is left to decide.

Because of its format and the themes of mental-health, romance, and parent-child relationships, Chopsticks is a good choice for a YA collection.

Problems this book might encounter

Where does one shelve it? It is not a novel in the traditional sense, nor is it a graphic novel. It defies description a little, and thus classification. The question here is, how will this book find its way to readers. One possible answer is to bypass the shelves altogether and use it in a teen book club.

References
Anthony, J. & Corral, R. (2012). Chopsticks. Razorbill: New York

Conclusion

All of the books contained in this blog have been approved for addition to my YA collection. They are all novels of becoming, but there are many stories being told here. The emotional truth of these stories is given to us in different and diverse ways: through illustration in Blankets, through pictures and multi-media elements in Chopsticks, through fantasy and the monstrous in A Monster Calls and The Ocean at the End of the Lane. 

There is heartache, domestic violence, mental illness, death, cancer, assault, racism, and bullying, There are also the joys of becoming,  of change, of finding the perfect partner at the perfect time, of making your mark, of revising childhood joys.

While we may not have something for everyone just yet, we've made a good start, and I look forward to reading and adding more stories of becoming from even more diverse storytellers.