What is JacketFlap

  • JacketFlap connects you to the work of more than 200,000 authors, illustrators, publishers and other creators of books for Children and Young Adults. The site is updated daily with information about every book, author, illustrator, and publisher in the children's / young adult book industry. Members include published authors and illustrators, librarians, agents, editors, publicists, booksellers, publishers and fans.
    Join now (it's free).

Sort Blog Posts

Sort Posts by:

  • in
    from   

Suggest a Blog

Enter a Blog's Feed URL below and click Submit:

Most Commented Posts

In the past 7 days

Recent Posts

(tagged with 'Dangerous Book for Boys')

Recent Comments

Recently Viewed

JacketFlap Sponsors

Spread the word about books.
Put this Widget on your blog!
  • Powered by JacketFlap.com

Are you a book Publisher?
Learn about Widgets now!

Advertise on JacketFlap

MyJacketFlap Blogs

  • Login or Register for free to create your own customized page of blog posts from your favorite blogs. You can also add blogs by clicking the "Add to MyJacketFlap" links next to the blog name in each post.

Blog Posts by Tag

In the past 7 days

Blog Posts by Date

Click days in this calendar to see posts by day or month
new posts in all blogs
Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: Dangerous Book for Boys, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 1 - 2 of 2
1. Dangerous Books for Boys? Celia Rees


'Gove's new curriculum: Dangerous Book for Boys', so read a headline on the front of The Sunday Times a couple of weeks ago. Nice sound bite, but the underlying sexism of the Secretary of Education's remark made me shudder. I leaf on through the paper to find a fresh faced young man in shorts - Gareth Malone - who has a new TV series designed to get boys to read. No mention of getting girls to read, but a quick perusal of the article shows that won't be necessary because girls like nothing more than to be sitting down reading a book, while boys are 'restless and won't want to sit down as much as girls,' according to Professor Stephen Scott of King's College, London. Now, I'm all for schemes for getting children to read, and read more, but was struck by the irony that Michael Rosen, when he was Children's Laureate, also had a series on BBC 4, called Just Read, where he transformed the reading culture of a school in Cardiff and sparked the Just Read Campaign, but it would never have occurred to Michael to work with just the boys. For him, it was, and is, supremely important for ALL children to read, regardless of gender.

I find this renewed emphasis on gender alarming. It seems to be a reaction to a perceived gap in attainment. Boys are falling behind and this is a reason for a full blown moral panic. No-one thinks to congratulate girls for their levels of attainment, for actually gaining parity and pulling ahead for the first time in history. The thinking seems to be, girls are OK because they like sitting down and learning stuff, but boys have to be taught differently because they are restless creatures who can't sit down, etc. etc. - was this true of Michel Gove himself, one wonders? Or of David Cameron and George Osborne and the rest of their cohort at Eton? Or the Miliband brothers at Haverstock Comprehensive School? Hmm, probably not. I bet they were all busy learning their lessons and sitting still as still.

The thing is, I don't like genderisation. Never have. I don't like it in education and I don't like it in books. I don't like the classification of books into girls' books and boys' books. It seems to me to be every bit as pernicious as age ranging. It also means I get classified as a writer, which I don't like, either. Over the last few years, I've noted a marked increase in questions like: 'Why do you always write books for girls?' The answer is: I don't. Even if the main character is a girl, it doesn't mean that the book is specifically for girls. I write for everyone, anyone. I don't discriminate along the lines of age or gender. I'm like Philip Pullman's storyteller in the market place. There for whoever wants to stop and listen. The riposte is often: 'Why do you have girls on the cover, then?' Again, why not? 'Because boys won't read it, stupid!' Really? There's a girl on the cover of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and sales figures would suggest that men are reading that book.
I've got news - from the same newspaper. Men and women are not wired differently. Their brains are the same. All these supposed 'differences' are created by social conditioning and environment. There is no Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus divide. So no more girls are from Planet Pink, Boys from Planet Zarg. Genderisation in literature coarsens the appetite while restricting the fare on offer. Maybe it's time for Children's Books to ditch genderisation and grow up.
2. BURIED TREASURES: 5 Things You Wish You Never Knew About Me but Were Afraid to Tell Me To Shut Up

You can run but you can't hide. I've been kissed by an angel and tagged by the honorable poet and author Laura Purdie Salas to divulge my darkest secrets.

How come these online memes never ask us to probe the meaning of oxygen or the importance of being earnest? Not sure what there is left to confess that I haven't already spilled onto the screen here but I'll try.

I wonder if I know myself enough to know the obscure things about me that would seem interesting to a reading audience. ;>

1: I used to listen in on phone calls at the switchboard when I worked behind the desk at a hotel during the summer a million years ago. My parents stayed at the hotel and the job was given to me out of courtesy to my mom and dad. (It was an old switchboard with plugs and buttons. Straight out a 40s movie set.) That was the summer I was hypnotized by Stephen King's SALEM'S LOT. I read, I plugged, I listened, I made a lot of mistakes. I learned a lot of secrets.

2: My first true kiss and true love was with a 19-year old trumpet player to my 14-year old goofiness. Our first date was an afternoon movie ("Ode to Billie Jo") because my father would not let me go out at night. That was the summer I found Sylvia Plath and romance all at once. I can still remember the moment of that kiss. I can see myself on the couch, wearing oatmeal-hued jeans and a brown tube top. I wrote a lot of love letters that year.

3: My Can't Dos: Sew, Play cards, play PlayStation games or Dance Dance Revolution, cook, make braids, eat fish or eggs, understand math, draw, dress fashionbaly, throw out a book, figure out how to put on the DVD player in the living room, go to sleep like normal people do, change a flat tire, bear the sight or mention of a mouse.

4: Almost Famous: The closet ham in me is not too shy to admit my off off off off off off off Broadway acting roles: (Think camp, school:) Annie Oakley (ANNIE GET YOUR GUN), The Courier (1776, Hi Hope, Best Play Ever) , Tuptim (THE KING AND I, school production), ANNA (camp production of THE KING AND I, took over the role when the star got sick and my mother forced the head counselor to give the role of Anna to me, ahem ahem), The Cowardly Lion (THE WIZARD OF OZ), Patty (YOU'RE A GOOD MAN, CHARLIE BROWN) and some sort of robot/woman of the future in the high school SING show. The funniest talent show moment: when I was a little nothing and sang WHY MUST I BE A TEEN AGER IN LOVE, accompanied by my own miserable guitar playing.

5: If I see people throwing trash outside their car windows, most notably cigarette butts, I even my car next to the offending driver and stare the person down until my message is loud and clear. When I am in the mood, I roll down my window and shout: "Why did you have to do that?" (Really. Who DO they have to do that? Are there not enough garbage pails in the world?)

This was a ridiculously random spew of airhead factoids. It was a long day. I was in a hospital/nursing home in Brooklyn for much of the day. I can still smell its putrid aroma on my skin. I don't like knowing a family member is there but that's all there is for now. My grandma (father's mother) died in that same building. I walked into the doors and all the ugly memories of the last time I was in that building washed over me. I can still see her thin, pale wrists tied to the bedrails to avoid her hurting herself. She had very little recognition left but I do remember saying my name and watching me with her big blue eyes as I kissed her clammy cheek and left her room. I never saw her alive again.

Hey. Who brought the Sad Sack in here? :{

This is supposed to be a fun project. {}

Ready to make some noise, make some more fun? I choose.....

(Drumrolls and glockenspiel clinking, maestro, please! Oh and did I mention I pretended to know how to play the glockenspiel in our junior high school band class? I don't know how I got away with that one.)

Next battah battah is...

[info]newport2newport Melodye Shore... because if anyone can make a random obscurity make sense, it's My California Girl, the one and only Original First-Place Trophy Friend, Melodye. {{{}}}

Take it away, Mel, mon chere.

-Pamela, worried my obscure confessions make for one, massive snore-fest...




website tracking

Add a Comment