Category: Conference Corner

Monday, June 30 was the final day of the American Library Association Annual Conference in Philadelphia, which my own library generously paid for me to attend. And the first session I attended that day, my own library director, Eric Carzon, was also attending.

It was about the program Work It Out @ Your Library, based on the PBS show Work It Out Wombats. The program is designed for families and supports early Computational Thinking. I saw that and thought Math, but they meant step-by-step thinking which builds into learning to code.

The program sounds fantastic, and PBS has library facilitator guides and presentation decks, which you can find at pbslearningmedia.org. It’s designed as four 3-week units, and there’s a separate section for parent resources.

Libraries are uniquely designed to bring this to families, and they used a Library Working Group to develop it. There’s a free family app that families who enroll in the program can use. Once you download the app, it doesn’t access the internet. If you take pictures of your kids solving a challenge, the app makes a video out of the pictures.

And then, of course, we tried out one of the activities on the app – building a castle from cups.

Eric was the “parent” at our table who took pictures.

Our finished castle:

After that program, I spent some concentrated time in the exhibits – for the first time, I finally walked all the aisles, one by one.

This meant I spent some money! I was charmed with a “Read More Books” t-shirt and matching earrings from Lyanna’s Closet. Looks like the website is more geared for teachers – but she had plenty of library gear for ALA!

I also loved the MoMath (Museum of Mathematics) booth and purchased some Hypercube earrings (I went to a seminar about hypercubes in grad school) and had fun talking with the woman at the booth.

I learned that MoMath is sponsoring 2026 as the Year of Math and is curating program ideas for libraries! I am no longer a programming librarian, but you can be sure that I signed up for the Year of Math Librarians’ Notification List.

There was a very sad booth, where IMLS had purchased a booth – but then with cuts to their budget, was not allowed to travel to attend.

I also attended a program in the Exhibits presented by Ingram about their diversity audit tools, InClusive and InCremental. InCremental is a follow-up tool to see how you’re doing in your goals of having a more inclusive collection. All their diversity audit tools compare against public libraries in general so that it takes into account what is available. With the follow-up tool, you can see if you’re making progress.

I got a book signed by Kwame Mbalia and Erin Entrada Kelly!

Another very helpful booth was one by The FIRE – The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression. They started out defending students’ rights to free speech, and now they want to be there for librarians who get challenged for the books they put on library shelves. I hope I will never need their help, but it’s super good to know they’re out there!

After the exhibits, I went to a Main Stage event where Grace Lin was being interviewed by John Schu.

They did fun getting-to-know you questions and talked about her new book, The Gate, the Girl, and the Dragon. Some notes:

“Libraries are the places where book lovers are made.”

Grace showed her Idea notebook, where she scribbled down ideas. She showed pictures of her Japanese derumi dolls – they come without eyeballs drawn in. You make an eyeball when you make a wish, then the other when it comes true. She uses these for her books.

Grace said there are so many beautiful books, she’ll ask herself if the world needs another book from her. She doesn’t know, but she needs to give the world another book.

She’s been friends with her editor Alvina Ling since she was 10 years old. They do a podcast together called Book Friends Forever.

She based The Year of the Dog on herself: Her Chinese name is Pacy. It’s about the year she met Alvina, who is Melody in the book.

She talked about all her past books. I liked it when she said she always wanted Caldecott Honor but didn’t have the confidence to admit it.

The Gate, the Girl, and the Dragon is an Asian-American The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The Chinatown gate is a portal to another world. One of the spirits comes to our world. Gongshi are good spirits who live in statues – their job is to help people.

She talked about loving books of fairy tales as a child. Her mom sneaked a Chinese fairy tales book onto their living room shelves. She indeed read it, but they weren’t very well done, and the pictures were lousy. So she makes her own books as beautiful as possible, so children will not think that Chinese stories are inferior. A book is something to treasure.

John said, “When we read together, we get a biological jolt of empathy.”

Grace responded that middle schoolers suddenly get jaded. Suddenly “Earnest” is a bad word. She wants to show that being earnest is a beautiful trait. She wants to share earnest books.

Of course I got books signed at the end!

The final session I attended was called “Manga, Manhwa, and More” – I got a good rundown on different kinds of Asian comics and some of the tropes and titles to watch for. This will be valuable reference! (I’m going to check the notes and see which ones my library has and which we still need.)

And it all added up to an excellent year at ALA Annual!

The highlight of ALA Annual Conference for me is the Newbery/Caldecott/Legacy Banquet. It’s a great big, grand celebration of children’s books in a giant ballroom full of happy people. What could be better?

It is disappointing that the Honor winners don’t give speeches, but it’s still a treat to get to applaud them. First up were Caldecott Honorees:

Cherry Mo, for Home in a Lunchbox.

C. G. Esperanza, for My Daddy Is a Cowboy.

Gracey Zhang, for Noodles on a Bicycle.

And Yuko Shimizu for Up, Up, Ever Up! Junko Tabei: A Life in the Mountains.

And then we got to hear from Caldecott Winner Rebecca Lee Kunz, who won for her beautiful work in Chooch Helped. My notes from her remarks:

[I want to note that I happened to see her in the restroom and learned that she designed the beautiful skirt she was wearing herself. It was gorgeous.]

When did she become an artist? Family and stories gave her the belief that what she did mattered. Her creative spark turned into a burning flame.

She went to photography school – but the camera began to feel limiting. She could have given up a thousand times.

When she had new children, she gave herself time in her Tree of Life studio one day a week. “Old scars became my swords.”

Cherokee Sky Vault – She began to weave in Cherokee symbols.

Maybe she just said Yes when the path came before her.

Books give children a chance to slow down.

Children’s Books and Art are a wonderful reason to be gathering.

Next the Newbery Honorees were recognized. Ruth Behar was first for Across So Many Seas.

Then came Chanel Miller for Magnolia Wu Unfolds It All.

Lesa Cline-Ransome received Honor for One Big Open Sky.

And the fourth Honor went to Kate O’Shaughnessy for The Wrong Way Home.

Then it was time for Erin Entrada Kelly to give her second speech as Newbery winner, this time for The First State of Being.

Most of the speech, I was too enthralled to take notes, but here’s what I got:

Her book is about living in the present moment. It’s a tribute to When You Reach Me. [Which is in turn a tribute to Newbery winner A Wrinkle in Time.]

She struggled with What-Ifs since childhood. So she started telling us about her journey with meditation… which shifted into her journey with very aggressive breast cancer and a lot of severe pain with chemotherapy.

She got mountains of care packages from readers…. People who knew her because of librarians.

The world is full of loving, compassionate, empathetic people.

She recognizes the way each one of us influences the present moment.

She urged all of us: When people offer you love and care and support, accept it, embrace it with open arms.

And the final speaker of the night was Carole Boston Weatherford, winner of the Children’s Literature Legacy Award.

She noted that the award can be given posthumously – so she’s grateful to be alive to accept it.

After her first book, she was told, “Carole, you just need more books.”

Her earliest aspiration was to be a librarian. As a child, she pasted pockets into her books.

Her books are hard to place – Thank you for your service!

Picture books her children read changed her trajectory. She aims to lift the ceiling off young people’s dreams, as her parents did for her.

A slight from a teacher kept her writing.

Children aren’t too tender for tough topics. Her books enlighten children – and adults.

For her, Black History is: “Let it shine!”

“Poetry is not what I do, it’s who I am.”

I started out the third day of the American Library Association at the YA Author Coffee Klatch – a sort of speed dating with authors. There were 13 authors there, and 13 tables. Each author spent 5 minutes at each table talking with us about their books. In honor of the 25th anniversary of the Printz Award, all the authors invited this year had some time received the Printz Award or Printz Honor.

First, there was a short keynote from A. S. King (above).

She won last year for editing the short story collection, The Collectors, and she won in 2020 for her novel Dig..

The Printz Award keeps changing her life. It keeps passing on love and truth to young people. It expands her voice. It respects young people and their lives and truth.

We (authors and librarians) are doing the best and most bad-ass work on earth.

Kekla Magoon, author of Revolution In Our Time: The Black Panther Party’s Promise to the People, was the first author at our table.

The first publisher who accepted this book wanted it smaller and simpler. But it’s a complex story. The Civil Rights Movement staying committed to peace no matter what happened was a huge act. Folks got fed up after a decade. Young people rose up to take care of themselves.

Then came E. Lockhart, who won Printz Honor with The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. She’s now most known for her book We Were Liars and its sequels. She’s got a new one coming out in November from that world. It’s not a prequel or a sequel, but is beachy gothic. It’s called We Fell Apart. [I need to read those books – they’re wildly popular at the library.]

A. S. King was at our table next. Her Printz winner Dig is about whiteness and how it trickles down.

Her new book is called Pick the Lock. The father is a symbol of white supremacy, and the daughter (the protagonist) is writing an opera called “Free Mother.” Her mother is a prisoner in pneumatic tubes in the house. [Yes, A. S. King always writes wonderfully weird fiction.]

Safia Elhillo came next, author of one of this year’s Honor Books, Bright Red Fruit.

This was her second book. Her first book, she made everything up, but this book is about her own Sudanese community.

Then came Libba Bray, who won the award for Going Bovine in 2010. She talked about her new book, Under the Same Stars. This book came about because she read about the Bridegroom Oak, a matchmaking tree in Germany – and thought murder. But it’s a historical novel set in three time periods – all about rising up and protesting.

Angeline Boulley spoke to us next. Her first book, Firekeeper’s Daughter, won the Printz Award in 2022. Very soon her third book is coming out, Sisters in the Wind. Location is another character in her books. This new one happens in the time in between the other two. If you’re doing a book club with her book, check her website angelineboulley.com for a free appearance!

Julie Berry won Printz Honor in 2017 with a book I just love, The Passion of Dolssa. I was super excited to hear about her new book, coming out in September, If Looks Could Kill. It’s deeply researched historical fiction (as so many of her books are) – about Medusa vs. Jack the Ripper in lower east side Manhattan. It asks, “What do I actually believe about mercy and justice?” At its heart, it’s a friendship story. [I was bummed they were out of Advance Reader Copies when I rushed to the Simon & Schuster booth.]

Then Laurie Halse Anderson, who won Printz Honor for Speak back in 2001, told us about her new book, Rebellion: 1776. She mentioned how the book bans have impacted her work – she did one school visit last year – she used to do many each month. She said that she can handle it, because she’s well-established, but urged us to do what we can to support new authors coming up because they need those school visits. For her new book, she looked at the Adams family correspondence during the Revolutionary War, which has been digitized. In Boston, families were divided about the Revolution.

Gene Luen Yang won the Printz Award in 2007 for American Born Chinese. He was teaching high school full-time when he got the call, and didn’t realize how life-changing it would be.

Andrew Joseph White is one of this year’s Honor Book authors for Compound Fracture. He told us he has an adult book coming out, about how true crime is bad. (Intriguing!) He will have a Stone Age fantasy in 2026.

Neal Shusterman won Printz Honor in 2017 for Scythe. First he told us about his new book, All Better Now and a pandemic that causes happiness – but all the people who have a vested interest in creating a vaccine for happiness. It’s going to be a duology [Yay!], with the conclusion to be titled All Over Now. But he won’t be writing that right away, because he’s currently writing a prequel to Scythe called Rising Thunder that will be out in Fall 2026. I can hardly wait!

Rex Ogle is the author of this year’s Honor Book, Road Home. Unlike Road Home, his new book, When We Ride, is only 70% true. He wrote it for his best friend in high school, Marshall, who took care of his family by drug dealing. You can go through hard things and do good things. He wrote it in verse, because Marshall would only read a book if it had lots of white space.

Oops! Somehow I forgot to take a picture of Daniel Nayeri, 2021 Printz Winner for Everything Sad Is Untrue. He has a soft spot for libraries, because his first job, ages 12 to 18, was a library page. He started writing by ghost writing people’s memoirs, which is a strange genre. How do you tell the truth when it’s embarrassing? That directly led to Everything Sad Is Untrue.

After the YA Coffee Klatch, I went to some meetings for librarians in Collection Management. Those weren’t so much about taking notes as about meeting other librarians in the field. The first was for children’s collections, and the second for public library collections.

I also spent some time in the exhibits, leaving the meeting early to make sure I got an Advance Reader Copy of Hannah V. Sawyerr’s new book, Truth Is. I’m excited about it! When I was on the 2024 Morris Award committee, we selected her debut book, All the Fighting Parts, as one of our Fi nalists. As soon as Hannah saw me in line, she gave me a hug! One of the best parts of being on award committees is getting to touch authors’ lives in a super positive way!

Then I went to a session called: “Cultivating Inclusivity: Assessing Collections for Diversity”

Yes, libraries still want our collections to match the diversity of our populations and for folks to feel included. This turned out to be mostly an academic library viewpoint, so I didn’t stay for the whole thing, but they did have some good resources about evaluating your collections and referred to a document from ALA called “Diverse Collections: An Interpretation of the Library Bill of Rights.”

I finished up the main part of the day attending the Main Stage presentation with Brené Brown.

First, she talked about how much she loves librarians. “If they’re coming for you, they have to frickin’ go through us!”

Then she talked about studying vulnerability. She had the first qualitative dissertation at her school. She kept finding a link to shame and a deep feeling of disconnection. She was told that the decision to study shame has been the death of many academic careers.

Vulnerability is not weakness – it’s the only path to courage.

Democracy is an amazing experiment, and it depends on education and virtue. The two were separated early on because you can have one without the other.

A world without the freedom to read is a direct threat to democracy – and she’s quite sure that’s the plan.

No science, no research, no books = No democracy

Asked what it takes to be a daring leader, she said that “executive presence” is code for – do you look like someone who’s a leader in an 80s movie. Now she talks about “pocket presence” – based on a quarterback who has about 3 seconds in the “pocket” to decide the play. It requires such qualities as situational awareness, anticipatory thinking, and strategic thinking. This is what it will take to protect our democracy.

Daring leadership is more interested in getting something right than being right. And has the humility of power with, to, and within (but not over).

In order to maintain power over people, you have to demonstrate cruelty. Because fear has a short shelf life.

We need to be learners, not knowers.

You can’t give what you don’t have, so find some awe, wonder, and joy in your life.

Limit your intake – overwhelm is part of the plan. Get small and local in making a difference.

The antidote to despair is hope. Hope is a cognitive behavioral process: I can have a goal. I can make a plan (with many back-ups). I believe in my ability to effect change. Goals too big lead to despair. Recognize small achievements! Small wins matter.

Her new book is a spiritual response to Dare to Lead.

Be awkward. Be brave. Be kind. The opposite of courage is armor.

When we’re “under the line,” we act as hero, victim, or villain. “Over the line,” we can be Coach, challenger, creator.

Saturday, June 28, was the second day of the American Library Annual Conference 2025 in Philadelphia.

The hardest part of attending ALA is making choices about which sessions to attend. I started out Saturday with a session called “Dyslexic-Positive Libraries: 8 Practical Ways to Decrease Discrimination and Increase Equitable Access to Information.”

Extra interesting was a librarian I met while waiting for the program to start from Kenosha Public Library. She said their library has Dyslexia Kits in their Library of Things. That might be something our library could add. She also said they’ve started a program of twice a year having developmental screenings after story times. They’ve found many children who can use services by doing this, and the parents and caregivers appreciate the convenience.

At the program, I was hoping for information about the current buzzword, “Decodable” books – but it was more about making your library friendly for dyslexic patrons – and a reminder that if learning to read was easy and fun for you (and according to the on-the-spot survey, that was true of 45% of the librarians in the room) – then you’re coming from a place of privilege. Only 5-10% of the general population finds learning to read easy and fun.

So they talked about making your library welcoming and friendly for people with dyslexia. They talked about the progression of learning to read and reminded us that sometimes a child’s negativity about reading is a sign they need your allyship.

Some ideas included making a Celebrate Dyslexia display and mixing Hi-Lo books with others in displays to avoid book shame. Mainly it was about working with patrons coming into the library and not making assumptions about people’s reading abilities.

Next I went to the main auditorium to hear George Takei speak. He has a new graphic novel coming out, It Rhymes with Takei – about coming out as gay in his late sixties.

As a child, his family was imprisoned, and his parents were subjected to outrage. The government took their money and froze their bank account. He learned that being different incurred consequences – and his earliest acting job was acting straight.

He didn’t want to be a sissy, and he hid this difference. As a teen, his heartthrob was the actor Cap Hunter. When the world found out that Cap Hunter was gay, he lost his career. George internalized that lesson.

George attributes many conversations with his father to his thoughts about democracy. Democracy is dependent on people who understand that there’s a responsibility that citizens have. Democracy’s weakness is also in the people. Citizens have to be actively engaged to keep government working. Being engaged means being part of the community to make it better.

He served 11 years on the Metrorail board in Los Angeles, in the group that got the money for it.

Talking about his career as an actor, Asian Americans had been presented as unattractive stereotypes. But he got cast in positive roles. Gene Roddenberry wanted to make a statement about the world, presenting IDIC – Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

George talked with Gene about the Gay Liberation Movement. Gene had thought about taking Star Trek that direction, but after the backlash for the first inter-racial kiss on TV, he was afraid promoting Gay Liberation would make them go off the air.

Democracy is dependent on an informed public.

This line got a roar of response: “We have a Klingon in the White House.”

We’re all in a vitally important but dangerous position. Timing and urgency are important in dealing with issues. We the people will ultimately prevail.

Now we’re in a turbulence that democracies go through before becoming better.

After lunch, I made a tough choice and instead of going back to the main auditorium to hear Carla Hayden and Kwame Alexander, I attended a session called “The State of RA Today.” (RA is librarian-speak for Readers’ Advisory, recommending titles.)

I did download the notes from that, and it was mainly a reminder to diversify your suggestions and check up on yourself how well you’re doing that. Our job is to promote books they won’t find on their own. (They don’t need to know about James Patterson books.)

Oh! I remember why I don’t have notes from that session – my pen ran out of ink, and I didn’t have a spare. Annoying – but I have since downloaded the handouts from the ALA website.

Some things I like from those notes: RA is an autonomy-enabling service – empowering people to choose books they will enjoy and that will challenge them. If readers don’t know about the choices out there, they don’t have the power to choose them.

After this session, I got to the exhibits to catch Meg Medina signing her new book! (Meg Medina was the winner we chose when I was on the 2019 Newbery committee. As soon as Meg saw me, she gave me a big hug, and that for sure made my day.

Next up, and more sobering, I went to a session about current censorship cases, “Censorship in the Courts: Current Litigation throughout the United States.”

Mostly, librarians and libraries have been winning in the courts. But states are still trying to pass laws to curtail free speech. Those states and jurisdictions end up spending lots of money trying to defend their book bans in court. Book banning is expensive!

The session was sponsored by the ALA Office for Intellectual Freedom and the Freedom to Read Foundation, as well as a group called Lawyers for Libraries & Law for Librarians. It’s good to know there are resources for defending libraries and librarians if our jurisdiction’s freedom to read freely is challenged.

I finished my full day back at the main stage, listening to Angeline Boulley talk about her new book, Sisters in the Wind. (And I got an Advance Reader Copy signed afterward!)

She promised that we will learn more about Jamie! It’s about a character who doesn’t know she’s Native making her way back home.

The chaos of fire relates to teens whose lives are in upheaval.

This speaks to adoption and the foster care system so many Native children and teens have to go through. The Indian and Child Welfare Act works when it’s properly followed – but so often it isn’t.

Stories are how we really learn. She conveys factual information via story. Hoping for more positive stories than negative.

Humor is a survival care. We didn’t just inherit generational trauma – also laughter and love.

Hers is a community-based way of storytelling, bringing other characters forward. Never underestimate the power that one caring adult can have.

She recommends the website American Indians in Children’s Literature. And the books Lies My Teacher Told Me, Everything You Wanted to Know About Indians But Were Afraid to Ask, and An Indigenous History of the United States.

She got the idea for her first book at 18, and at 44 started writing. Got it published at 55. She decided she could live with writing a bad manuscript better than the regret of never having done it. Every book, she challenges herself.

The first day of ALA Annual Conference is also the night the Printz Awards are given. What I like about the Printz Awards is that *all* the authors give speeches, not just the winners, unlike the Newbery. They also consider the art, not just the text, unlike the Newbery. So attending the awards is a way to start off Annual Conference with inspirational speeches, happy to be a librarian. I’ll give notes from their speeches below.

This year marked the 25th anniversary of the Printz Awards, so Laurie Halse Anderson, who won an Honor that first year with Speak, delivered a keynote address.

We serve a vision of how the world ought to be. Not only do we write for teens, but we have a responsibility to them.

If you’re not pissing off haters, you need to try harder.

The Printz is part of a recognition of adolescence itself. Adults often try really hard not to remember being a teenager. Adolescence is so powerful. Teenagers might be the original woke people, the opposite of anesthetized.

Young people always lead change. 25 years ago the Printz honored books that are still freaking people out today.

The first Honor recipient to speak was Safia Elhillo for Bright Red Fruit.

Despite the best efforts of our enemies, libraries will continue to thrive.

There is nothing meager about being a poet.

Today is Day 804 of the war in Sudan, “the forgotten war.” Her family used her grandfather’s bookshelves to stop bullets after the windows were shattered.

Books give hope of stopping bullets.

The next Honoree was Andrew Joseph White for Compound Fracture.

This book reached teen readers at the right time. About people fighting for good in a place written off.

It’s about family history and queer history, based on his own family.

Queer people are here and we exist. It’s also a scary time to be queer.

Then we heard from Molly Knox Ostertag, author of the Honor book The Deep Dark.

She doesn’t write queer characters because she’s looking for representation. These are people you love.

Transition is a declaration of hope. The roles are not fixed.

Good books show you the world is bigger than yourself.

An expansion of freedom, a celebration of choice. There’s no one else I’d want to be fighting the good fight with.

Next, Rex Ogle received an Honor for The Road Home.

He began by talking about ice – frozen water. Ice is human ingenuity at its core.

When you’re homeless, you’re invisible to the people around you. 2.8 million kids are homeless right now, and 40% of them are LGBTQ.

Life is painful. We make a difference, but it comes at a cost.

He is still working so hard just to be seen, and this award shows that librarians see him.

He used to wish on dandelions that he’d be a writer. His pain got him here. Times are dark, but where there’s conflict, there’s growth.

Abuela gave him a drink with ice after he’d gone a summer without it.

Don’t focus on the hurt. Focus on the beauty of ice. You survived today.

Now it was time for the winners to speak, the author and illustrator of Brownstone. Mar Julia spoke first.

This is an important book today. Get involved in your community! Especially right now. Know your neighbors. Check on someone you haven’t seen in a while.

Community is difficult at times, but it’s deeply rewarding.

Then Samuel Teer spoke, also for Brownstone.

He began with a story – about an adorable Latino boy growing up in the Midwest. He was too much and didn’t have friends until he got into comics, then made two friends. His bus driver gave him a coverless comic preview because her husband worked for DC Comics. That was when he realized that comics could be a job and he decided to make comic books. That’s his origin story.

But things were tough after that. He worked on Brownstone for a year – figured it was his last shot. He kept asking, Is this worth it? (Comics are always worth it.)

Making comics is what he always wanted to do, and Brownstone gave him a second chance at that.

And the Printz means Brownstone is actually getting read. And he gets to work! And make comics! He gets to make little Sammy’s dreams become reality.

My final day at ALA Annual Conference began by checking out of my hotel and storing my luggage – so I ended up being late to the ALSC Awards and Breakfast and got to the front of the line right after they ran out of food. Oh well! A neighbor did split a bagel with me.

But the ALSC Awards were lovely, as always. The winners gave short speeches, so I only have brief notes, but let me share a little bit of that.

Here are Nicholas Day and illustrator Brett Helquist receiving the Sibert Medal for The Mona Lisa Vanishes:

Brett Helquist talked about getting his artistic education in the library reference section, looking at the art books and a book called Anyone Can Draw. He never did stump the New York Public Library librarians when looking for a picture reference.

Nicholas Day began the book in 2020 and says, “Paris is a good place to visit in your head.” He also commented that “vital” is what people say before they underfund you. And we lead people to fiction through fact.

The wonderful book Houses with a Story, by Seiji Yoshida, won the Batchelder Award for best book in translation. This award is given to the publisher, so a representative of Abrams Books spoke:

This book demonstrates the breadth and depth of translated books. How to describe it? Each house tells its story but invites the reader to fill in the blanks. Imagination and reams are universal. Invites us to travel to places in our imaginations.

Corey R. Tabor was the Geisel Award winner, for Fox Has a Problem.

Beginning Readers deserve great books, too. Early readers are the most joyful.

The program finished off with the award for Excellence in Early Learning Digital Media, with these enthusiastic creators:

After the ALSC awards, I headed to the Exhibit Hall, and attended a couple sessions at the Book Buzz theater to hear about books I’ll surely be ordering for our library system.

Walking around the exhibits, I ran into John Schu, author of Louder Than Hunger.

I’d talked with John the night before, and felt like I’d slighted him by taking a picture with Jason Reynolds, but not with him! Before becoming an author, John was a librarian, and I’d become familiar with him from comments on the Heavy Medal Newbery blog, then served on an ALSC committee with him and got in the habit of talking with him at conferences. He’s a kind person who has that Mr. Rogers quality of talking with and seeing the person in front of him, and I’m happy to be his friend, however peripherally. Just such a kind person.

The next session I took notes about was “Feeling Supernatural: Breathtaking Worlds in Young Adult Literature,” featuring Lamar Giles, Amanda Glaze, Courtney Gould, and Leia Stone. Some highlights:

Q: How do you define supernatural?
LG – Breaking rules of reality.
AG – Past secret having power over us today.
CG – Predominantly based in reality, with speculative elements to increase stakes.
LS – At the start you think she’s human with no power – then magic surprises you.

Q: How do you decide what to keep close to reality?
LG – Like it to follow the rising action of the plot – get more supernatural as action rises.
AG – Love when magic hides in plain sight. If you squint, you might see it.
CG – Hers are close to contemporary with supernatural elements added. Monsters emphasize their underlying fears.
LS – Main character cursed to feel pain when touched – based on fibromyalgia.

Q: What are the rules that bind your antagonists?
LS – Tries not to write herself into a corner, so not too many rules.
CG – Simple but effective: What does the character need to learn? Also must be able to overcome the antagonist.
AG – Also in tandem with what the character needs.
LG – A Faustian element – a businessman who deals in the supernatural. How do you trip up a bad businessman?

Q: All your books include suspense. Do you plan it out in advance?
LG – A lot of it is trial and error and comes out in the rewrite.
AG – First draft is you telling yourself the story. Revision is for the reader. Outside readers help.
CG – Has an idea of the Twist when she starts: it’s a twisting-the-knife moment – but it changes by the time she gets there.
LS – She’s a pantser. She guards her writing time and writes it and it comes to her.

Q: History or legends? Research?
LS – Got into fantasy because you don’t need research. She only writes about places she’s been to.
CG – Did research on wilderness survival. Monster research – different kinds of cryptids.
AG – Her books are inspired by something that happened in history. This book – Winchester Mystery House – houses the spirits of the victims of rifles. Folks who worked there gave her lots of info. When she gets stuck, she goes back to the research.
LG – Based in history – Guy with a deal with the devil for music plus desegregation and a school that closed.

Q: Advice on writing heavy topics for a YA Audience?
LG – When writing about grief, approach it honestly.
AG – She doesn’t hold back. “You can always close a book.”
CG – Never wants to act like she’s teaching teens a lesson. Didn’t pull any punches writing about the troubled teen industry.
LS – Teens go through all the things adults go through. Teens just want to feel normal!

After that event, it was time to head a couple of hotels away to a ticketed event, the Author Gala Tea. This event features adult authors, but you get some nice in-depth speeches from each author. (I didn’t get great pictures in the big hall, but here are some.)

First up was Chloe Gong, with a new book coming out called Vilest Things. She wrote her first adult book when she turned 21, while isolated during Covid. It’s Antony & Cleopatra meets The Hunger Games.

Her protagonists are all on different sides. Not a romantasy, but the original toxic situation. This is the middle book of a trilogy.

Everything she writes is for her younger self – who only read library books.

Next was Tom Ryan, author of The Treasure Hunters Club, set in Nova Scotia.

A librarian pointed him from Lois Duncan to Agatha Christie and hooked him on mysteries. Bring a group of interesting characters together in a great setting and start killing them off.

Another book from the childhood librarian was called Blue Nose Ghosts about ghosts of Nova Scotia. Those tales get in the book, too. This librarian emails him after every book about how proud she is.

The next speaker was Lev A.C. Rosen, author of Rough Pages:

This book is the third in a series. His book Jack of Hearts was the 23rd most challenged book in the U.S.

Books can change us. They help us see the humanity in people. Reclam our identity. They heal us.

Rough Pages talks about when sending gay books through the mail was a federal crime, but there were folks who operated a queer book service. In the early 1950s, these publishers went under. In 1953, the ALA came out with its Freedom to Read statement. People were banning books left and right.

This is a book about stories – who gets to read them and who gets to tell them.

These things come in cycles. We’ve gotten through this before.

Next up was Justinian Huang, author of The Emperor and the Endless Palace

When he first came out to his dad, he was told that Asian people can’t be gay. This romantic thriller defies that, spanning 2000 years. It’s about a couple reincarnating, always destined to be doomed lovers. The true story it’s based on proved that gay Chinese people go back thousands of years.

The next speaker, Anna Montague, had the book with my favorite title: How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund?

When I showed her my nametag in the signing line, she was so excited, she wanted a picture with me!

Her book is about a road trip with an urn of ashes.

It all started because her therapist broke up with her in 2020. Then her elderly friends got her thinking about the golden periods of our lives.

Magda’s best friend dies unexpectedly. She is given her friend’s correspondence and the urn of her ashes. It’s a meditation on female friendship. It’s also about grief – and the absurdity inherent in it.

Chris Whitaker spoke next, author of All the Colors of the Dark

He regaled us with stories of his life. He started going to libraries when he was 8 or 9 and his parents divorced. A man his mother dated broke his arm one night when he was ten. He later got stabbed on the street. Had PTSD and got a self-help book from the library. He told about starting at a stock trading company and owing them a million dollars but not how he managed to pay that off!

He quit his job to become a writer. Then ended up working 3 jobs. But it all changed when one of his books became a bestseller.

The final speaker was Katy Hayes, author of Saltwater.

Libraries are airports where you can fly anywhere for free. She went to her local library because it had air conditioning – but it also offered her a portal to a larger world.

In suspense fiction, the atmosphere sets the tone. This book is set on the island of Capri. In the early 1990s, there was a death. Then 30 years later, it happens again. It’s an island full of illusion, obsessed with appearances. There are three dead bodies in this book, which has to be a win, right?

It’s about a family who has everything and the women who will stop at nothing to escape them.

Can we believe what we see? All mysteries and suspense novels are magic tricks.

And that’s it – the last of my notes from ALA Annual Conference 2024. I hoped you enjoyed this taste of the conference!

Sunday night of ALA Annual Conference is time for the Newbery/Caldecott/Legacy Banquet!

Beforehand, there was a big balcony to hang around outdoors in the breeze – and I got to talk with friends – and author Jason Reynolds!

The Newbery Banquet is always a wonderful chance for a grand celebration with fellow children’s book lovers. There’s always an amazing program with art from the Caldecott medalist, good food, and then the highlight of the night – speeches from the winners. Since I knew the speeches get printed in Horn Book Magazine, I held off from taking notes and just enjoyed the moment this year. I will consult said magazine for some of the highlights from the speeches.

First, the Caldecott Honor winners get to receive their award without having to give speeches. Then the first speech came from Vashti Harrison, Caldecott Medalist for her amazing picture book, Big.

Vashti Harrison began her speech by remarking that people told her right away she was the first Black woman to win the Caldecott Medal. And then she told us about seven Black women who had won Caldecott Honor: Faith Ringgold, Carol Byard, Ekua Holmes, Oge Mora, Cozbi A. Cabrera, Noa Denmon, and Janelle Washington.

Then she talked about her own story. For anyone who’s read the amazing book Big, it wasn’t a surprise, because she portrayed all of this with her art. But she did talk about coming to illustration in film school with animation, drawing Disney-style people who didn’t look like herself. Even as a child, she drew characters thinner than herself, and the images she tended to copy were mostly of white or light-skinned women.

She was empowered to draw beautiful Black women, and got love and support online, but she was still making them impossibly thin.

I love this part of her speech so much, I’ll copy it here:

I resolved to only draw children, children who are allowed to be chubby and chunky and thick, and we love them for it. Children, who have no wrong or incorrect curves or folds. Children, for whom big is good.

Drawing is such an intimate practice. You spend time with characters, you make decisions that seem microscopic but can change a character entirely: the placement of their eyes, the length of their neck. As I made these tiny creative choices, I wondered, At what age does big start being bad? For me it was in second grade, when a girl looked over at my round belly and asked if I was pregnant. That version of me is still inside, still hurting.

I needed to make something to heal myself, and I needed to confront my internalized bias.

And she succeeded! She went on to talk about adultification and Black girls being punished for being too much. Her book takes those on so beautifully.

It was amazing to be in the room when she received this well-deserved medal for creating the most distinguished American picture book of 2023.

Then came the Newbery! First all the wonderful Honor book authors received their plaques. Then came the presentation of the Newbery Medal to winner Dave Eggers, for his book The Eyes and the Impossible.

He began his speech with a delightful story of his first grade teacher helping all her students write books, telling us that great educators expect more of us. And then his fifth grade teacher did the same thing – and entered his story in the state young authors’ contest, and he was chosen to attend a celebration of young authors in another part of the state.

At that conference, he met Gwendolyn Brooks, who called the students “fellow authors.” He was never the same.

His parents died at the ages of fifty-one and fifty-five, and he is now fifty-four. He’d made a vow to himself that if he lived past fifty, he’d write whatever he wanted. I like this paragraph from his speech:

My secret that I can now divulge is that The Eyes and the Impossible was my love letter to being alive past fifty, and how I sometimes cannot believe my luck. To see what I see, to love who I love, to be able to convey these things in a book that I honestly cannot believe made any sense to anyone. This is the most personal book I’ve ever written, and it’s also the weirdest, and the fact that librarians of this great nation have recognized it – that word again! – means to me, and should mean to any writer anywhere, that if we forget our dignified selves and write with a kind of untethered abandon, sometimes that’s exactly what a reader wants. Johannes, the protagonist of this book, gave me a way to write the way I always wanted to write – actually sing the way I always wanted to sing – and the fact that you all have accepted his voice, as unbridled as it is, means the world to me. I thank you.

And I have to add his last two paragraphs where he thanks librarians:

Thank you, the Newbery committee. I can’t imagine how hard your work was, but I am grateful to you, and to all librarians everywhere, for accepting this very strange book, and for accepting all very strange books. Books are simply souls in paper form, so when we accept a strange book, we accept a strange soul. We say that soul, however unusual or unprecedented, how reckless or flawed, belongs among the other souls of the world. And once this soul has been welcomed to the library – which is nothing less than a repository of souls – it cannot be unwelcomed.

More than that, because of you, these souls will be protected. When the small-minded ban books, they are banning souls. They are removing certain voices from the chorus of humanity and the chorus of history. And it is librarians who are tasked with making sure these souls are not removed, that they always have a home and always have a voice. Librarians are the keepers and protectors of all history’s souls, its outcasts and oddballs, its screamers and whisperers, all of whom have a right to be heard. No pressure, but we count on you to save us all, to protect us all, to preserve us all. Thank you and godspeed.

The final award of the night was the Children’s Literature Legacy Award, given to Pam Muñoz Ryan. She gave another lovely acceptance speech.

She began her speech with thanks to the many, many people who have helped her along in her career. Then she talked about how when she started writing, “there were only a handful of stories written by and about Latinos in the United States.” Her book Esperanza Rising parallels her grandmother’s experiences in a Mexican farm labor camp, and that camp is where her mother was born.

She didn’t grow up in a print-rich environment, but both her her grandmothers nurtured her love of story. The small branch library near her house fanned that love into an obsession with reading. She went there to escape from younger siblings and cousins and to get out of the heat.

It was inevitable that, sooner or later, the books would leap from the confines of the stacks and hold me spellbound. Stories are powerful that way, and once I was captured, I carried books to kitchen tables, to the car, and secretly propped them inside textbooks at school. I tried on many lives far more interesting than my own.

As I made my way through junior high, books carried me away from the wrath of mean girls, tallness, big feet, and a big, noisy extended family. I coped through books. It is no surprise that I now often write for readers who are the same age that I was when books made the most profound difference in my life.

She talked about seeing the worth inside each other, as her grandmother did, and she told a story about Pablo Neruda from her book The Dreamer, when he exchanged gifts with a child he didn’t know through a hole in a fence.

As artists and writers, we pass our work through a hole in the fence, never knowing who is on the other side. Never knowing if or when someone might pick up our book and have a reaction, a revelation, a good laugh, or the clutching-to-the-chest moment of a book well-loved and long-carried. We’re never sure if we will incite our reader, cause an indignant rampage, or inspire a cult following. We write and draw, shackled to the beautiful tyranny of now. We work with hearts full of hope for the future, and the promise of unknown communions.

Once again, it was thrilling to be in the giant room with these brilliant creators doing great things for children along with hundreds of other people celebrating distinguished children’s books.

Here’s my post about ALA Annual Conference Opening, The Printz Awards, and Day 2.

June 30, 2024, was the Sunday of ALA Annual Conference in San Diego this year, and it was time to meet our Morris Award Winner and Finalists! Well, those who made it, anyway. Pictured above are winner Byron Graves in the center, with Hannah V. Sawyerr and Ari Tyson beside him.

I can’t begin to tell you how lovely it was to celebrate our winning authors. The William Morris Award is for the best young adult debut book of the year, and as a committee we read hundreds, discussed them, and came to a strong consensus about our Finalists. It’s especially wonderful to get to encourage these stellar writers at the beginning of their careers.

So the first event of the day was the YALSA Awards. We got to hang out with the authors in the green room beforehand, and then celebrate the winners with other YA book enthusiasts.

My pictures from a distance came out blurry in the fairly dark room, but let me give some good lines from the various winners.

First up was our winner, Byron Graves, for Rez Ball. (*Such* a good book! Read it, everybody!)

He said that he wrote the book so that a 16-year-old Ojibwe kid like he had been could now see himself in a book. He also gave credit to his mother, who “crafted and freestyled” bedtime stories.

The next award was the YALSA Excellence in Nonfiction Award, won by Dashka Slater, for Accountable: The True Story of a Racist Social Media Account and the Teenagers Whose Lives It Changed.

Her book started in the signing line for The 57 Bus, when someone asked her if she’d heard about this incident. And though she very much wanted to write about sweetness and light this time, the story wouldn’t let her go. She wanted to understand what had happened and why, and she very much wishes it had become irrelevant.

Almost all the high schools she’s visited had incidents of online hate – disguised as humor. Kids are having conversations about it. She doesn’t write for teens because she has answers, but because she has questions.

After the Alex Awards were announced (no authors were there), it was time for the Margaret Edwards Award Winner to speak. This award is given for lifetime achievement and was given to Neal Shusterman.

His speech made our jaws drop.

It started innocuously enough. His father wouldn’t read his books because they’re fiction. But he maintains that Fiction is the single most important thing we have.

At 18, he bought the Writer’s Market. He sent 20 copies of his first book to 20 publishers, and they were all rejected.

“Writers today are losing the benefit of soul-crushing rejection. We need to be reminded we haven’t arrived.”

His second book got him an agent, Andrea Brown. She couldn’t sell it. His third book sold when he was 23. “This author is gifted and in serious need of therapy.”

The goalpost has to keep moving. He wrote the Scythe trilogy to disrupt teen dystopia, to show a future when mankind really was getting things right. He came up with Scythe at the end of 2012, after his Mom had a stroke. Dying in the hands of people you love is not the worst way to go.

Then he began talking about Identity. Our identity comes from our people, or it’s forced on us by society or it’s something we choose. It defines who we are, who we love and hate, our whole world. And identity is a fiction.

Isn’t it wild that fiction defines our lives? Take great care in the stories you tell yourself and others.

Then he told the jaw-dropping story about his own identity. He grew up believing he took after a grandfather who was a Sepphardic Jew. But ten years after his parents had died, his son did an Ancestry DNA test – with surprising results that motivated research – and he learned that he was half Black and half Scotch-Irish. So that gave him lots of thoughts about identity.

People tell writers to stay in their lane, and his lanes go every which way now.

There are three kinds of diversity:
We need all kids to see themselves.
We need all writers to be able to speak.
We need all to be able to put themselves in other people’s shoes.

We are all human beings. Every story is our story to tell. He’s chosen a narrative where this is additive in his life.

After the awards celebration, we Morris Committee members who were there got to have lunch with Byron and Hannah! It was a wonderful time. They signed books for us, and we signed one book for each of them. *smile*

After lunch, we walked back to the convention center. I just barely had time to make it to a program I’d been eyeing: Welcome to the Puzzledome! It was a sample program to show how to run a jigsaw puzzle competition! This is something I’ve long wanted to try. I was late, but got there before they started, and joined up with these two from a base library in Japan. Our team came in second place, finishing the 500-piece puzzle in One hour, five minutes. The winning team did it in 58 minutes, but they had four people, so we were quite pleased with ourselves.

So – I did something stupid. Incredibly stupid.

I used the words “Covid positive” in my original post about my ALA Conference attendance.

Someone found this post just before I got on a plane to go home from San Diego. They had seen me at the conference – after I had tested negative – and because I wasn’t wearing a mask outside in the wind after I tested negative – they concluded that I had attended the conference giving people Covid willy-nilly.

Because I’d posted this picture (again, outside in the wind) from Day 2, they concluded that I’d completely lied that I’d ever worn a mask at the conference.

Before I say anything else, let me mention that none of these people in this picture – my fellow Morris committee members and the main people I talked with the first two days of the conference – got Covid from me, as they have reported two weeks after the conference.

By the time I got off my plane, Twitter was in a frenzy about me going to the conference and spreading Covid. They wouldn’t listen to anything I said about the precautions I took and the medical advice I got. I stayed off Twitter for a week and shut off notifications, because being a target of all that hatred and loathing was more than I could take.

My plan was to not post about the rest of the conference, because after I was Covid negative, I started meeting authors and taking pictures with them – but those folks will never believe it.

However, after the furor died down, I remembered that I *like* to post about the conferences I attend. It helps me make the most of what I learned and remember the wonderful people I interact with. So I’m going to post about the last two days of the conference – when I was Covid negative – and refer to this post if anyone objects.

And I figure my own blog is my chance to give the full story – which chance I did not get on Twitter. If people don’t believe me, I feel sorry for them keeping all that hatred and contempt in their hearts. I have been thankful that those who actually know me have backed me up when I discussed the situation with them.

Here’s how it started: I’ve caught Covid two times, and both times it was on a long plane flight with one stop. This time, thank goodness, it was on the way back from Germany instead of on the way there.

But the flight was only a week before ALA Annual Conference in San Diego.

So I assumed I wouldn’t be able to go, and I emailed my fellow Morris committee members. They answered to not give up yet. I made a virtual appointment with a doctor to talk about Paxlovid, which she prescribed. I asked her what she thought about whether I could go to the conference, and she repeated the current CDC guidelines that if my fever is gone for 24 hours and my symptoms are going away, I can carry on normal activities, wearing a mask. I told my friends I might be able to go, and they cheered for me.

I never had much of a fever – 99.5 at the highest. But I took Paxlovid and felt better quickly. By Wednesday afternoon, it was back to my normal of 97.4, and my symptoms had left. All day Thursday that kept up (and all through the conference, too – I brought my thermometer on the trip) and I felt fine on Thursday and spent the day packing my bags to go.

Now, my sister lives near San Diego, and we made a deal that I would only come to see her after I was Covid negative. Because passing people in a convention center or sitting next to someone wearing a mask is a lot less contact than staying in someone’s house, so we decided a stricter standard would apply. So I did bring tests, and I was negative by Sunday and went to her house Monday night – and it was after I was negative that I started meeting authors and taking pictures with them.

So, yes, I was still positive when I arrived at the conference on Friday. But I was very aware of that. And presumably after your fever and symptoms have left, you’re shedding a lot less virus. When my Morris committee friends came up to me at the Printz awards, I stood at a distance and kept my mask on to talk with them. Then Saturday when I saw them at a reception on a boat, we talked outside in the wind. Even if I were at the very beginning of the illness and shedding lots of virus, I fail to see how that virus could have transmitted to someone else in the wind on that boat.

And that’s the thing. There are some on Twitter who believe that I was responsible for every case of Covid that someone caught at ALA Annual Conference. But thousands of people arrived at that conference after taking a plane trip. Who is more contagious? The person with no remaining symptoms who’s wearing a mask, or the person who caught Covid on the plane trip to the conference but doesn’t know it yet and isn’t wearing a mask?

Now, when the Twitter furor erupted, I was paranoid I’d find out my committee friends had caught it from me. But time has passed, and the people I actually talked with and spent the most time with those first two days did not catch it from me. My family that I saw later that week did not catch it from me. I can’t bring myself to believe that I filled any of those convention center rooms up with virus and infected people I didn’t even talk with.

Though if you really want me to be your scapegoat, if you won’t believe me that I took precautions, and that I think those precautions were effective – there’s not really anything I can do about that. I now have new sympathy for teens who get bullied on social media, and I’m going to try to stay out of any social media shaming in the future.

So – that’s what happened. I followed CDC guidelines and went about my normal activities, wearing a mask, when my symptoms and fever were gone for more than 24 hours. After a swab up my nose didn’t even detect any virus, I no longer worried that I might accidentally infect someone.

Now I’m going to write up the rest of the conference without mentioning Covid, but this is my explanation if someone has an issue with what they see.