The picture book market is in the doldrums.  Publishers report that sales are flat and disappointed booksellers must box up the brightly colored, lavishly illustrated volumes - unopened, unread, and most dispiriting of all, unloved - and send them back to the warehouses from whence they came.

And as if this news weren't bad enough, one of the chief reasons cited for the downturn is even more discouraging. It seems that parents - the ones who actually plunk down the money for these books - are a major factor in the picture book's current decline.   Parents have started urging first graders and even kindergarteners to leave picture books behind and move on to more text-heavy chapter books.   Why?  Because with the pressures of increasingly rigorous standardized testing looming on the horizon, parents are eager - some might even say desperate - for their children to get a leg up on the academic ladder.  And so, the pretty pictures and lilting rhythms get pushed aside for words, words and more words.

Now don't get me wrong.  I love words.  In fact, I have made a life's work out of writing them, both for children and adults.  But as both reader and writer, I find the elevation of the chapter book at the expense of the poor, maligned picture book an alarming trend. And I pity the children whose benighted parents are so quick to jump on this educational bandwagon.

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When I was a kid I brought home a paperback book that my parents didn't think I should read. Mind you, this was during an era when our neighborhood drugstore's book racks never sported anything but the most innocuous (by today's standards) sorts of pulp fiction, from detective stories to romance novels to true crime. So you can be assured that my selection was about as tame as, say, a Disney animated movie. But it had a lurid cover photo and a rather suggestive title, suggestive, at least, to my 12-year-old sensibilities. Also to my mom because when she spotted it on my nightstand she freaked. She asked my dad to speak to me about it and confiscate the book.

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I love books. There's nothing like the experience of cracking open a brand new book and spending a lazy Saturday reading all day. My favorite places to spend an afternoon are the library or a bookstore. I am that person at the flea market digging through a bin of old books, looking to purchase a piece of history. I have books from my childhood and my mother's childhood that I enjoy sharing with my children. I hope to pass on my love of reading, and these books, to my grandchildren.

Recently, I discovered an organization called "Permanence Matters". I was surprised to learn that many of the hardcover books that I've bought recently will likely not be around for me to pass to my grandchildren. It seems that in an attempt to save money, some publishers are printing hardcovers on low quality "groundwood" paper. In fact, according to Permanence Matters, more than half of the books on the New York Times bestseller list are now printed on this inferior paper instead of what is known as "freesheet" or "permanent" paper. To clarify, the issue of permanent versus groundwood paper is separate from discussions about acid-free paper (virtually all books are printed on acid-free paper these days anyway so it's not an issue anyway). Groundwood paper is made by a mechanical grinding process which leaves components such as lignin in the paper. Lignin is what causes the paper used in mass market paperbacks and newspapers to go yellow and brittle after a few years; the paper also tears more easily because the fibers are shorter.

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Talia Carner explains the extraordinary true story that lies behind her soon to be published novel, Jerusalem Maiden...

Rivka was fourteen. A Jerusalem maiden, she was already married, building a home in God's Holy City according to the mitzvah to hasten the messiah's arrival. Alas, Rivka's young husband died, leaving her no longer a virgin but neither a mother. She was doomed to never contribute her share to hastening the messiah's arrival through the good dead of procreation in Jerusalem.

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A few weeks ago I asked our Facebook followers to share the name of their favorite poem. As you'll see below, the responses were both enthusiastic and eclectic!

Do you see any of your favorites here? Whether that's a yes or no, do take a moment to click on the comments option at the bottom and tell us about your favorite or favorites!


Phyllis SB got in first, within a few seconds of me posting, with her recommendation of "The Cremation of Sam McGee" by Robert Service, which was seconded by Dana VB.

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The New York Times reviewed Rebecca Hunt's novel, Mr. Chartwell, in the Sunday Book Review on March 13. Since I reviewed the book for BookBrowse not long ago, I was interested to see what the Times thought of it. (My review is only available to BookBrowse members at this time. Here's a PDF of it for those who are not members.)

Tadzio Koelb's review took a snarky tone from the start, and not just in reference to Mr. Chartwell, but to readers in general (who are apparently too stupid to know what good books are). My blood didn't really start to boil, however, until Mr. Koelb condescended to reveal the obvious truth about Rebecca Hunt's novel, the glaring fact that those of us who liked the book sadly missed:

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Why do we love to read about animals? The answer seems quite simple, the library cat Dewey of Vicki Myron's surprise bestseller, the wild snail of Elisabeth Tova Bailey's memoir, or John Grogan's dog Marley each offers more charming and inspiring company than the average critter.

I couldn't imagine a life without animals. My life involves the science of observing moody monkeys and apes, a tendency to get slimed rather than sublime in the company of snails, and the herding of a horde of seven fractious cats at home. So, to read an engaging animal book for me is to escape from the litterbox-and-hairball detail for a while.  

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I know you're never supposed to say never (who knows what life will bring) but here's something that I will never-ever do. And I mean it. I will never join a book club. I don't care if an Ivy League English professor moderates the discussion or it's filled with literati.

I'm not a club person to begin with and, honestly, I just don't get the whole notion of having one about books. Why do I want a gaggle of readers dictating my literature? Picking a book--I mean truly immersing in one--is one of the few things in life that comes without any ties. Everything else has strings attached. I must meet deadlines (and read relevant literature for them). I'm obligated to my husband, four children, two dogs, three goldfish, and one tortoise--all of whom require varying degrees of food, walks, and nurturing. 

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Sometimes interviews are a great thing. They actually make you think. One interviewer asked me if being a psychologist for 25 years had anything to do with the fact that I wrote a few memoirs. I said that it made me less afraid to write the truth about myself and my feelings no matter how bizarre or unflattering they might be. After delving into the unconscious of others for so long I realized that we are all pretty much the same. The difference between a murderer and a nun is really very little. Usually it is only one moment in time that differentiates the two. Both people have the same unconscious instincts or desires that they have had to repress--primarily sex and aggression. Freud isn't famous for nothing. Just look at TV that only has various forms of sex or aggression blasting on 400 channels to know that Freud was no amateur. Sometimes people say to me "Oh I was so shocked you were involved in a murder trial and were investigated by the FBI." Really they had thought or probably did the same things I did but didn't get caught. I know that and they know that.  Realizing we are all on a level playing field is freeing and I felt I could write what I wanted so my pen just danced across the page.

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The Afghan Women's Writing Project is an online magazine comprised of writing by Afghan women. Our project is run by a team of volunteers, and our goal is to empower Afghan women to have a voice in the world by writing stories and poetry about their lives. The Afghan women write in English and students receive ongoing mentoring from women writers primarily from the United States.

I got involved in AWWP because I happened to hear Masha Hamilton, who founded the Project, on Minnesota Public Radio. I was inspired to read her book, Staircase of a Thousand Steps, which led me to read more of her books. I was curious about this woman who writes such compelling books about places that I'm not sure I would ever have the courage to visit. On her web site, I found a link to the AWWP and was impressed with the stories that I read.

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