I sing in the shower, and I sound pretty darn good when I do. I think a major recording label should give me a contract for a CD, complete with a $250,000 promotional campaign. And thank-you-no, I don't need any help with my singing. Backup musicians and a top-notch production team, yes. But no voice coach, no suggestions for improvements—I told you, my voice is just fine.
Arrogant? Presumptuous? Or maybe just naïve? For those of us whose life's work is striving to create good literature for young people, most children's books by celebrity authors appear to be written with much the same attitude.
I am not among those who vilify celebrities for writing children's books; actually, I'm tired of hearing other writers whine about it. Achieving success in one field often provides entrée to another (ever hear of an actor named Reagan?), so get over it.
Nor am I upset with publishers for bringing out books by celebrity authors. I understand the economics of it: these titles sell, and publishing is a business, not a social service.
It is the quality of the writing that I find inexcusable. Incompetent meter and rhyme. Stories drowned by A Worthy Message. Anecdotes written with no effort to shape them as picture-book text. Why bother spending hours and sweat to write the best rhyme and meter possible—the readers won't know the difference. They're only kids, right? But that is precisely why they need and deserve the best books we can give them. Poorly written books insult children by demeaning their capacity to learn. As the Russian author Maxim Gorky said, "You must write for children the same way you write for adults, only better."
I've been consistently impressed by the passion, expertise and hard work of the people in children's publishing. I'm always bragging about how thorough the editing process is, how much care goes into the creation and production of a good children's book, and this has been my experience across half a dozen different houses and editorial staffs.
So I feel genuinely distressed when I see books that haven't had the benefit of this kind of care. What happened? Did the celebrity or his/her agent refuse to make changes? Did the editorial staff, reluctant to risk challenging a celebrity's ego, not suggest changes in the first place?
With celebrity titles, publishers have even moreresponsibility than usual to produce a good book.
The authors involved are usually not writers, so their manuscripts need work—often, a lot of work. To publish a book that has not been rigorously revised and edited is dismissive of and disrespectful to the young people who will be reading it.
And crucially, due to the one-two punch of the celebrities' names and the hefty promotional budgets, these titles ravage bookstore shelf space, shoving aside much better books. They may sell thousands upon thousands of copies—way more than the average no-name-author picture book. Indeed, they could be the only titles that non-book-loving adults buy for children.
So these celebrity titles end up in the hands of thousands of young readers. And every time a child reads a poorly written book, that's time lost forever to the possibility of reading a good book. One great book can spark a lifelong love of reading in a child—why risk missing that opportunity?
What would happen if celebrity books were produced with the quality of the writing and respect for the young reader as top priorities?
A few celebrities would get their egos bruised; they might even (gasp) withdraw their manuscripts. But some titles demonstrate the possibilities. Henry Winkler's books are co-written with author Lin Oliver; titles by Jamie Lee Curtis and John Lithgow evince care and professionalism in both the writing and the editing. Publishers should accept nothing less.
The books would still sell to adults for whom the celebrity name is important. The publishers would still make their money. And most importantly, the kids would have better books.
