Stay Outta the Wardrobe

In reading for an agent as well as slush for a publisher, it was just a normal day to find a handful of submissions that listed The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe as a comp title. Without having ever read it, I saw this as indication that the author did not have much contemporary kids’ lit reading under their belt. And now, having read it, I’d love to communicate what will likely be read as a screed, that will serve as my argument never to use this as a comp title ever again. I hope it will help aspiring kids’ writers maybe look elsewhere for foundational texts on which to base their work.

It is worth noting: I was warned before reading it that this was a very Christian book, and I should say here, none of that bothers me. I am not a Christian, and I am not opposed to Christian literature. I love Harry Potter. I don’t mind the notion of a hero dying for the sins of others. As a Jew, often I find deeply Christian media passes right by me, since I’m likely to catch only the loudest of references. So none of my critique of this book will come from that angle.

Also, all this being said: I did like the dinner scene with the Beavers, and that scene, only.

#1: The Problem With Portals from an Imperialist Perspective:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that British literature is embedded in a violent and colonial history. And so, the notion of a portal fantasy bears all the more weight— because what does it mean to pass into a whole other world, completely different from the one you know? Here, four British children wander into a foreign land where they are immediately clocked as being very important and also wreak all manner of havoc. Would Narnia be better if they stayed out? Probably! Is Mister Tumnas written like a ready-to-be-saved native with little to no guile or agency? Yes. Is it hard to believe that four random kiddos who don’t seem to know anything about anything can wander into another land and be perfectly fit to rule it for years to come? Absolutely it is. Is any of that questioned in the text? No. Instead, the reader is meant to accept it. For, why wouldn’t children of the British Imperialist legacy not be suited to lead a land they know nothing about? Of course they are, by Lewis’s imagining. That same arrogance defines British history, and every page of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe drips with it.

Some Alternative Portal Fantasies to Consider:
Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan Maguire
Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Cordova
In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

#2: The Narrator Doesn’t Like Kids

Leaving aside the treatment of Edmund, who’s written as a sniveling, lying, selfish little asshole, I mean when the narrator speaks directly to the kids. I listened to this book on audio instead of reading a physical copy, so I can’t pull exact quotes. However, there are several times when the narrator says something to the effect of: ‘if I told you about all the monsters that were there your parents wouldn’t let you read this,’ or when the girls find dead Aslan, ‘maybe you’ve cried a whole bunch in a day, but you probably still don’t understand the misery these girls felt in this moment,’ or some such. What these asides— which I would argue are also moments of apparently authorial laziness— tell kids is that the author does not respect their audience enough to take the time to communicate with them. This is the opposite of someone like, say, Mister Rogers, who’s love for children was apparent through his willingness to engage with them under the radical notion that they were people, with emotional lives as rich as adults. Often, the narrative camera in Lewis’ work veers away at the very moment that a child might be invited in to something they may not have understood previously. But that is precisely what fiction is FOR. To help us live lives we do not. Cheating kids of that because the author is easy too lazy or too arrogant to think they couldn’t possibly understand the profundity of their imagination is an indication that that particular author shouldn’t write for kids.

Some Alternative Books with a Vocal Narrator to Consider:
A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket
Flora and Ulysses by Kate DiCamillo
Whales on Stilts by MT Anderson

#3 All That Sexism

Phew. If Lewis didn’t like kids then he straight up HATED women. I don’t know what went wrong for him— other than a life spend in unquestioned patriarchy— but he does not much care for femmes of any stripe. I’m told this only gets worse as the series goes on, but man, it was plenty in just this one book. The titular Witch is not great — lacking the intelligence and grit of a truly interesting villain. It could be argued that Lucy is given a great deal of page time, but she too lacks any cleverness. She’s just a sweet, gormless little girl who wanders off, and then gets shit on by her older brother— her lack of agency makes her an uninteresting force in the story. Susan is basically sentient wall paper, who’s gifted a bow and arrow but told NOT TO USE IT by Father Christmas, because, essentially, women can’t be trusted in battle. All is made right in the world by Peter, the Professor, and Aslan, a male lion and also the most stunning visual metaphor for patriarchy there is. The lion figure cuts an accidental brilliant critique of itself— real male lions are powerful, yes, but lazy, capricious and abusive creatures, a danger to the females and the young of their species. They are, indeed, the greatest metaphor for patriarchy there is.

Some Alternative Fantasy Books with Strong Female Characters to Consider:
Graceling by Kristin Cashore
The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson
The Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi
Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir
The Star Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi
The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton
The Girl From Everywhere by Heidi Heilig
Forest of a Thousand Lanterns by Julie C Dao
Eon by Allison Goodman
Nimona by Noelle Stevenson
Literally anything these days, FFS

So. Please stop using this book as your comp title. There are so many better, more exciting, smarter, cooler, more complicated books out there. Get thee to a library or bookstore and find them.

Middle Grade Vs. Young Adult

I was born in 1984, so when I went to the bookstore as an eleven year old, I  went right to Young Adult section. On the shelves there were Judy Blume, RL Stein’s Fear Street books, Madeleine L’Engle, and Lois Duncan. I’d grown out of Goosebumps (shelved over in the Chapter Book section) and was happily devouring all the Christopher Pike and RL Stein and other teenage monster and murder books I possibly could. My sister, then 14 or 15, was reading things like VC Andrews, which were safely shelved in the Adult section. Probably because of the incest.

Children’s literature has obviously come a long way since then. The market is deep with more content than ever before, and full of experts well poised to advise young readers on where best to look for their next favorite book. And I should say before anything else, I am only ONE of these people. So my word is not law, and I’m perfectly happy to be proven wrong on all things. But I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction, which serve as a fascinating reflection of the rapidly increasingly amount of expert opinions on children’s literature. And I’m particularly interested in understanding this through the lens of “shelving” or “merchandising,” which is just placement into what are, ultimately, artificial categories.

 Kids read across categories constantly— you can’t throw a rock in a school book fair without hitting a kid who’s reading the millionth Diary of a Wimpy Kid book (a firmly MG series) at the same time as reading something like The Hunger Games (firmly YA)— so I recognize whole heartedly that when I talk about ages, I’m really talking about marketing, and what the adult gatekeepers feel comfortable with selling to different ages. Kids will always be there to prove us wrong in all things. 


Roughly, MG is aimed at kids aged 8-12. YA is for 12 and up. Wait, you might be thinking, 8 is a second grader. And 12 is a 6th grader! And a 12 year old doesn’t need to read what an eighteen year old is reading… that’s a huge swath of ages! And yes! You’re correct! That’s part of why the distinction between what’s meant for sixth grade and up, as opposed to up to sixth grade is wonky and ever changing and also completely subjective and different from one bookstore to the next. I believe that there are actually 5 major categories within these two big categories. There are books meant for ages 8-10, 8-12, 10 and up, 12 and up, and for ages 14 and up.



Alvin Ho Allergic to Girls School. The protagonist is younger, his POV is limited, and there are copious (and gorgeous) spot illustrations by LeUyen Pham. Bird and Squirrel is a graphic novel that also fits under this age group really well. Fortunately the Milk is also in this category, as is Attack of the Fluffy Bunnies, and the classic The Iron Giant. These offer plenty of plot and humor to keep the reader moving, that—while offering some opportunities critical thought— can allow these books to be enjoyed as just fun, silly stories. In other words, there is very little life experience needed in order to understand these stories. They are narrative for the sake of fun, or else for gentle nudging in the direction of empathy building. It is frankly, the category of the 5 that I understand the least. 


The One and Only Ivan. Yes, this is also a book with copious spot illustrations, but the content is complex enough to allow it to age up, as well. Ditto Flora and Ulysses, which also won the Newbury, and features a squirrel. For a book without spot illustrations, George is a gorgeous example of a truly 8-12 book. I would argue this is where classics Charlotte’s Web, From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler, The Egypt Game and The Little Prince would fall as well. Yes, absolutely kids age 8-10 will get a ton out of these books, too. But the emotional worlds of these novels are challenging, and will be as fulfilling to a 12 year old as an 8 year old. Themes of mortality and identity arise. I have a theory that this is the category that yields the most Newbery wins, but it’s just a theory. This category also includes series like Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and Captain Underpants, which may not win nearly as many awards as they probably deserve, but also inspire more life long readers than many other books can arguably claim to— so this age group as a catch all makes sense. It’s the age when a lot of us learn to love reading. But I still think it’s distinct from both the age group that proceeds it, and the one that follows. 

10 and up: 

This is the category that I believe many aspiring writers mistakenly categorize as YA, because in fact— when they were this age— that is what category those stories would have been in. But times have changed, and the best books in this category that I can think of now are things like The Percy Jackson series, The School for Good and Evil, When You Reach Me, Tiger Rising, Wonder, Murder is Bad Manners, Coraline, and classics Where the Red Fern Grows, Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry, and A Wrinkle in Time. Concepts like metaphysics have been introduced, there might be a first kiss. Characters die, mental health issues arise. Fantasy worlds become more complex, moving out of simple fairytale and into alternate, often subversive, universes. Adults are flawed now, and deeply so. Maybe there’s murder, and maybe our POV character sees that murder. There are words like kleptomania and existentialism. Sure, kids younger than 10 can EASILY get through some of these titles. But will they get everything? Will they have enough life experience to feel it? Probably not. This is also where the Harry Potter series, I’d argue, begins (with books 1-3). Some people call this category tween, but also some people insist that giving up coffee is great, and just like I will never give up coffee I will never call this “tween.” But that’s a me problem. 

12 and up: 

What is YA, even. It starts here, however dubiously, with titles like Cinder, The Princess Diaries, Stargirl, The Hunger Games, Twilight, Endangered, the 4th and 5th Harry Potter books, Dread Nation, the Leviathan Trilogy, The Dark Materials Trilogy, The Bartimaeus Trilogy, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, Nimona, and Dumplin. Our main characters are in high school now. There’s kissing for sure, and death, and even potentially fights to the death, even televised fights to the death. Murder and makeouts abound. Racism is pointed, and adults are not only deeply flawed, but may also be chief antagonists. While there isn’t a ton of is sex on the page, we have certainly moved into a world where we are AWARE of sex. You probably won’t see the term blowjob, but you’ll know someone is slutty or has a bad reputation. And it’s also where the importance of voice becomes undeniable. So many of these books feature strong narrative voices that define the book. This, to me, is true YA.

14 and up:

I don’t think we can talk about this category without addressing the elephant in the room, which is the adult buying power in the YA market. It is absolutely true that adult readers turn to YA in droves, and I think I know why— because where literary fiction for a while seemed to find story arc predictable and pedestrian— YA will always offer a satisfying story arc, because they are all stories (in one way or another) about coming of age. This is true in the 12+ category, but here’s where it gets complicated. Books in this category, like Trail of Lightning, The Hazel Wood, The Bone Gap, The Poet X, Speak, The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, In Other Lands, We Are Okay, I’ll Give You The Sun, Long Way Down, Aristotle and Dante Discover The Secrets of the Universe, the 6th and 7th Harry Potter Books, and What I Saw and How I Lied are all, arguably, coming of age stories, just like the books in the previous category. But in these books, protagonists don’t just witness murder, the proverbial camera shows us it. There is blood, and there are penises, masturbation jokes, sexual violence and there’s a close up on things like substance abuse, unreliable narrators and you WILL see the phrase blow job on the page. There’s drinking and there’s drugs, and there’s probably no lesson to be had from them. This is where, I think, VC Andrews probably should be shelved. But it’s also where a lot of the adult shoppers are hovering. And so there’s a valid argument that the adult reader— by having so much power in the market— has swayed YA to an older place. That 14+ place. Which. I understand why that can be bad. But also, this is the category with a lot of MY favorite books. Me, an adult, who reads YA. I am the problem and I know that. 

And don’t even get me started on books that I think are actually YA, that were packaged as adult. 

The Overton Window on what we think it’s ok to talk to kids about is always changing. And there are a lot of titles I didn’t include in these categories because I think they complicate things even further. A Series of Unfortunate Events probably initially was considered 10 and up because all the murder. But, after it’s overwhelming popularity, the age it was considered appropriate to share it with changed. Drama by Raina Telgemeier is probably more a 10+ book too, since it deals with crushes— but because her packaging is so perfect and kids love Smile SO MUCH it ends up going younger, again, due to the author’s overwhelming popularity. The Goats is a classic YA novel that was probably originally considered for ages 12+, but as our opinions about sexual violence have changed, I’d hanker a guess that upon rereading it, most booksellers would opt for 14+ nowadays. 

The point to all of this is: there are distinct differences between these categories, and there’s a lot of market to know. If you are intending to write a book for these ages, you should be aware of how diverse they are, and also what subcategories they fall into. Those categories don’t have to be exactly as I’ve defined them here, but if the last YA book you read was Are You There God It’s Me Margaret, you have a lot of reading to do before you write your own MG or YA novel.

So you want to write a kids' book? oh no.

As a human person who has been a children’s book professional for my entire career (really: Children’s bookseller with a focus on school programming and events, children’s book marketer, eBook person, read for children’s agents, interned in children’s editorial, am now an author with books coming out for young adults, little kids—fiction and nonfiction—, and an all ages nonfiction book), everyone I know who has a friend, auntie, hairdresser or loose social connection who wants to write a kids’ book sends ‘em my way. Which is cool, but also a lot of work, especially since I tell all people the same thing.

SO now I have written this handy guide to getting started!

CAVEAT TO ALL OF THIS: What I say will sound harsh, and it is. And for everything I say, there are examples that break the exact rules of what I will tell you, and kudos to those people! But in my experience, and from what I have seen this is what I have learned. Please feel free to prove me wrong repeatedly and often. Anyway. Onwards.



Yes, a bookstore. Not a library. The reason for this is that libraries are amazing and perfect and librarians are marvelous creatures we don’t deserve BUT libraries also tend to have older books, some of which have gone out of print, and so they may not give you a sense of what kids’ books are like NOW. So, go to a bookstore.

Go to the children’s section, and specifically look in the age group you’d like to write. See what books have 3 or more copies (this means the book buyer believed this book would sell), and take a good hard look at them. Read them. Ask the booksellers which are their favorites. Buy those favorites (or write them down and get them from the library if you’re short on funds—NOT AMAZON, that’s super rude to the bookseller who just helped you). Read those books. This will give you a good picture of what kids’ books are like now, and what kind of quality there is in the market. This marketplace is denser, more expert and more refined than it’s ever been, and doing this background work will really help you understand that. Remember, you’re walking into an industry FULL of career professionals, so. Don’t walk in unprepared.

IF there is not a bookstore in your area, check the kids’ Indie Next list. These books are nominated by indie booksellers, and their placement on the list is paid for by the publisher so it shows two things: 1.) a bookseller LOVES this book enough to take time out of their day to make a nomination and 2.) the publisher who made that book is willing to invest money to make sure everyone knows that bookseller loves it.


This is where I sound mean, but this is because everyone thinks they could write a kids’ book. And the fact is 98% of those people are wrong. Writing is hard, that’s just a fact. And even writing books that seem really simple is very difficult. So now that you’ve taken a good hard look at what the market looks like these days, ask yourself: IS THIS BOOK PROJECT I HAVE UP TO SNUFF?

It can be hard to know that for yourself— we are all hit with both crippling doubt and somehow ALSO completely unrealistic confidence— so here are the five questions to ask yourself to get at your answer:

1.) Do my kids’ love it? You're a parent or a teacher, and you wrote a thing and the kids in your life LOVE IT. But those are YOUR kids. Chances are, they probably love it because they love you. Which is wonderful, because love is never bad. But it is misleading, and does not mean that the book is up to professional snuff.

2.) Does my story have a very important lesson? Often, when we write for kids’ we do so because we think we have some wisdom that they NEED to know, nay they MUST know. But the fact is books with a didactic tone tend to be terrible (again this is one of those rules that has absolutely been broken but by and large this is true), and also writing to shout at someone is much less compelling than writing because you have a story that demands to be told. So ask yourself: is this a story, or is this a lesson? If it’s a lesson, start over.

3.) Am I the only person who can tell this story? The kids’ book industry is slowly and painfully becoming slightly more diverse, which is unequivocally a good thing. But it does mean we are becoming much more finely attuned to WHO tells WHAT stories. So if you are a very kind white lady who’d like to write a story from the point of view of a Guatemalan migrant child who has been kept in a detention center, ask yourself firstly: am I the ONLY person who can tell this story? And also ask yourself: am I telling this story because I think I can SAVE someone? If the answer to this latter question is yes, I beg of you to reconsider. Saving people through narrative can often end up being deeply condescending even when it comes from the absolute most pure intentions. I will write a whole separate post about sensitivity readers, which is a whole other thing.

4.) Do I understand what age group I’m writing for? You might think that this question would come first, but frankly, sometimes this comes down to marketing, which assumes a good product to start with, so I’ve put it later. But there are huge differences between a picture book (ages 4-8), a chapter book / early reader (ages 6-10), a middle grade book (ages 8-12), a YA book (ages 12+) and a high YA book (ages 14+). Having been to the bookstore will really help you get a hold of this, but here is a very reductive way I’ve found that helps me explain the differences to non-kid book people:


This is mostly a joke, and does not speak to things like upper middle grade books (for ages 10+) and non fiction picture books (which can span all ages), or the difference between regular YA and high YA (which to me is often the difference of sex . violence on the page or off it) but it does cover some basic differences in tone.

5.) Am I willing to put in a ton of hard work on this project? If the answer is no, the good news is we’re done here! But the fact of the matter is WRITING IS HARD WORK and that’s that. I have no words of wisdom here, just a grim sigh, a shrug of my shoulders and a pat on the back. It sucks. It’s lonely. It’s a career paved with rejection. Have fun!


There is no shortcut. There is no quick route. The only way to write a kids’ book is to write it. And then rewrite it. And then rewrite it again. Join a writer’s group, in person or online. Find the humans who understand you and your work, and show them your words. Let them tear them apart so that you can rebuild them, stronger. Kids’ writing is just like all the other writing in the world, except that your audience has zero compunction about walking away from you WHILE YOU’RE READING TO THEM. So, write, write, write. Then write some more. Then have a drink.

And remember: For every JK Rowling, Rick Riordan, Jeff Kinney and Mo Willems in the world, there are ten thousand aspiring writers, a thousand published writers, and like, twenty more writers who actually make a living at it.


Remember when you went to the bookstore? Dope. Which were your favorite books? Which ones did you read and feel like, this author gets it, this author is up to something cool, I want to be like THIS author? Well, figure out who that author’s agent is. Figure that out for all your new favorite books. And write personalized queries for each of those agents, following their guidelines TO A TEE. DO NOT STRAY FROM THE GUIDELINES. DO NOT PUT LITTLE SARCASTIC COMMENTS THAT BELY YOUR DISREGARD FOR THOSE GUIDELINES IT IS NOT CUTE IT IS SIMPLY GROUNDS FOR IMMEDIATE DISQUALIFICATION.

Having read for agents here’s what I can tell you with absolute confidence: Good ones receive a billion queries a day, so be patient. They will notice if you submit sloppy work, so double check, then check again. Some mistakes are OK, we’re all human, but it doesn’t bode well if there’s a bajillion spelling and grammar errors.

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY: If you have written something that is meant to be illustrated DO NOT FIND AN ILLUSTRATOR YOURSELF. That is the publishing house’s job. It does not matter if your cousin is a professional painter, or your office mate is a good drawer. You’re just making it easier to say no to you. And mostly, agents say no, because they only take work they are deeply passionate about.

And YES, you absolutely need an agent. It’s their job to see to the business side of your career, be your advocate, and to have all the contacts with editors that is necessary for any kind of success in selling a book. Typically, they take 15% of your advance once a book has sold, and frankly they’re worth every. fucking. penny.


Finding an agent is super hard, and even if you DO get one (CONGRATULATIONS!!!! Many writers don’t, so allow yourself to celebrate this!) you still may NEVER sell a book to a publishing house. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: WRITING IS A TERRIBLE JOB AND NO ONE SHOULD DO IT but if you— like me— just have to, despite your better judgement, financial needs and logic, then get ready for an avalanche of rejection. Just, like. All the time. On Sundays. On your birthday. All the time. Even successful authors have books rejected, so welcome! You’ve joined the ranks of the perpetually miserable.

And while that sounds super mean, also know: We’re happy to have you here. Misery loves company. Come find me at a bookstore, and let’s hang out. We can toast to our many rejections together, and help build the armor we’ll both need to get through it. Everything I’ve said here is true, but if you’re really a writer, you’re willing to do this hard work, and you believe in it and in yourself, then none of this will stop you. You’re a goddamn machine, and you’ll chug along anyway.

Neither of us may ever be bestselling authors. But at least we looked a near-impossible feat in the eye and said: BRING. IT. ON.