BE A CREATIVE BOOK BANNER ... MY FIRST BLOG CONTEST!

It's only taken a year, but really, I never thought of a good contest until today. And I think this is contest-worthy!

When I hear about book bannings and challenges and rescinded invitations to book fairs and college professors equating rape with porn, I honestly don't want to believe I share 99.9% of the same genetic material with these people and kind of want to move in with the orangutans at some zoo.

There is so much valuable information out there about Banned Books Week and how invaluable it is for us to fight, on every level, to keep books available for everybody. (List at end of this blog).
So I wondered, like every author out there, what could I do to add something of value?
I decided that I would add a little bit of fun. We're readers, writers, teachers, librarians, parents, aunts, waitresses, accountants, doctors, horse breeders, dog groomers ... and more. And we are CREATIVE!

So I'm putting together a BANNED BOOKS pack including: a signed copy of Ellen Hopkins' CRANK, Laurie Halse Anderson's SPEAK, Stephen Chbosky's THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER. And I'll throw in a signed copy of FREEZE FRAME (my first novel, never been banned, but I can't very well have a contest without sharing my own work!)-- A FOUR PACK OF BOOKS FOR DOING SOMETHING PRETTY FUN! (Two of which are signed)

So what do you have to do to win such a tantalizing prize?? Be creative! Find the most absurd reasons to ban a book, poem, song ... anything. SOMETHING FUNNY!

My lame example:
WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS: Dangerous!! Children might feel impelled to walk to the end of the sidewalk, off the curb, and twist their little ankles. Think of the tendons, bones, the endless days of ankle-wrapping! Insurance doesn't cover orthopedics! Children aren't supposed to walk off a sidewalk. That'd lead to mayhem. DANGEROUS!

If you can find a reason to ban a book that makes me laugh, you might just win! The sky's the limit!!

DEADLINE: Well, how about by October 4th? That gives you five and a half days to come up with reasons to ban books you never thought possible!! HAVE FUN! (Contest limited to USA, Canada and Colombia!)
Give us the reason and in the comments, please leave me your e-mail.

I will notify the winner the week after the contest ends and we'll crown you a creative book banner and everything. Maybe I'll throw in a  Miss America-style sash.
Good luck and may the most ludicrous, ridiculous, and downright dumbfounding banned book prevail!


American Library Association
The Guardian
Cheryl Rainfield
Ellen Hopkins' Manifesto Poem

Books YOU recommended!!

THE SHAPE OF WATER, Anne Spollen
RELATO DE UN NAUFRAGO, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
THE HELP, Kathryn Stockett
Harlan Coben novels
THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE, Jandy Nelson
REVOLVER, Marcus Sedgwick
REVOLUTION, Jennifer Donnelly
THE MONKEY WRENCH GANG, Edward Abbey

I often am asked how do I choose the novels I read. And, luckily, because of this business, everything is word of mouth. I don't remember a time going to a bookstore not knowing what to buy because there's a running list of novels out there that people I trust -- librarians, authors, agents, friends, family, avid readers -- recommend. Little has to do with New York Times best sellers lists (though I try to read those, too!) And a little tweet can go a long, long way. Just today, FREEZE FRAME was a book blogger's unexpected treasure because of a contemporary author chat we did a couple of weeks ago hosted by the intrepid Kari from A Good Addiction blog. And I now have somebody reading my books who might not have otherwise. So the best way to get good books? WORD. OF. MOUTH. (or tweets ... or Facebook ... or any number of social media places ... or conferences .. or at a coffee shop ... or on an airplane ... )

After asking for recommendations a week or so ago (after plunging into depression because, unwisely, I followed MOCKINGJAY with SOPHIE'S CHOICE and was on the brink of major depression), I chose to read THE SHAPE OF WATER this past week. A friend, Dhonielle, recommended it, but ultimately I chose it for the title without having any idea what it was about. It's absolutely stunning. The writing is ethereal and it's like swimming in images and words and this timelessness the author has created in the world of a very tragic young girl.

Next, after looking at covers, I'm going to have to choose REVOLVER because I LOVE the cover and it comes from a very good source that it's a very good novel. (yes. You're all good sources. But recommendations from my friend Barbara have NEVER disappointed!)

I intend to get to them all. But this brings me to two important factors in choosing novels we're going to read: covers and titles. As much as we'd like to think the novel will speak for itself, there's gotta be a hook -- eye candy or a title that just makes us HAVE to read a novel. And that's where titles and cover art comes in. Both are chosen carefully, gone over by publicity, marketing, the editors, and publishers before they're sent out to find a space -- hopefully standing out -- in the thousands, literally hundreds of thousands, of books on the shelves. Title and cover ARE IMPORTANT.

My first novel, FREEZE FRAME went through about seven titles, beginning with FINDING YESTERDAY and who knows what else? Same with COMPROMISED though I honestly can't remember its original title. That said, editors, authors, and the entire team behind a book (trust me, there are loads of people working to get each of these books out there), are consulted about titles and covers until they come up with something that seems "just right" for the target audience.

They make a big difference. So looking at these covers and titles, which books would you read first? Why? Why not? What is your ABSOLUTE favorite book title? And favorite cover?

Happy Happy Reading! Thank you so much for great book recommendations. I can't wait to start another one: so many books, so little time.

Rant: Ramona Geraldine Quimby and Farenheit 451

My parents were both teachers, avid readers, and books always spilled from our shelves. To this day, I don't remember an evening in which my mom and dad weren't reading books. My mom reads about three or four novels a week. My dad is huge on biographies, history, and reads every word from THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY, two local papers and more.
My first book memories are FROG AND TOAD. I devoured those books and couldn't wait for the Scholastic brochure to come out so I could pick the next in the series. Over the course of the years I read a lot, but there was no character or any book that would prepare me for Ramona Geraldine Quimby. It was as if Beverly Cleary was writing my life.
How did she know my sister Carrie was perfect with big brown eyes and long, thick auburn hair that hung to her waist while I, a rusty red-head, the incarnation of cow-lick was doomed to be my sister's frumpy, clumsy, Tom-boy little sister?
How did she know that I had tried to run away more times than I can count, always hiding around the corner with my little red suitcase packed with my favorite pillow, a couple of dolls and probably a graham cracker for good measure?
So when my parents took us to see Farenheit 451 -- it was being shown at the Community College (my first taste of what cine-clubs would be like), I watched with horror as the books went up in flames. When the movie ended and the lights flicked on, everybody left in that hushed kind of way people do after seeing a movie that needs to be thought about, digested, and discussed later on.
I clearly remember, though, saying to my mom, "I'd memorize ROMONA THE PEST to pass on to others. That's what my book would be if I was a book person."
A lady walking ahead of us laughed in that condescending way adults tend to laugh at children's whimsies and said, "Sweetheart, but that's not a real book. Not the kind that needs to be passed on. How sweet."
I was dumbfounded. How could the book that had the one character who I identified with most in this world not be considered a 'real book'? How was it possible she didn't deserve to be remembered and passed on?
Being a YA author (whatever that means), I find that people still consider children's literature "cute" -- like a stepping stone to the real stuff: adult novels. This perplexes me still, not because I write "cute" novels but because the idea that children's lit is sub-standard is one I find pretty insulting and ignorant. How many people can write something as vivid and dead-on as ALICE THE FAIRY; or absurd and captivating as DON'T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS?
Sandra Boynton captivated my daughter's attention when she was nine months old. Go ahead. I dare you to do the same.
I could spend a year writing about the wealth of middle grade novels out there from the classics like A BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA and THE  LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRARIE to daring contemporary novels like Linda Urban's A CROOKED KIND OF PERFECT (that deals with mental illness, unexpected friendships and the reality of a life not quite perfect but perfect just the same) and Kate Milford's THE BONESHAKER (The Devil Went Down to Georgia in a novel that grapples with the ideas of good and evil, strength, faith, and a parents' illness) and Suzanne Morgan Williams' BULL RIDER (a young boy struggles to find his brother in the returned vet from the Iraq war.)
Then the plethora of YA novels that deal with drug addiction (Hopkins' CRANK), anorexia (Halse Anderson's WINTERGIRLZ), violence, romance, suicide, pregnancy ... you name it, it's out there. All of these novels are written from the point of view of the kids and young adults that deal with these issues.
So when we say children's literature is cute, I have to say, I don't get where the "cute" part is.
Because what I see are thousands and thousands of books empowering youth and children to understand their worlds -- to help them realize they are not alone out there.

So back to Ramona. If I were a book person, you're damned right I'd memorize Ramona and pass her on because I can guarantee you there'll be a little girl with cowlicks and mismatched clothes trying to find her way in the wake of her sister's perfection. Trust me. To an eight year old, there's nothing cute about it.