Up for Discussion-In Quest of Excellence

The Information Age has a new high-profile award for information books. That's a big plus. After all, there are glitzy awards for everything else from TV soaps to "best of show" pups. The Association for Library Service to Children has created the ALSC/Robert F. Sibert Information Book Award, which focuses attention on nonfiction.

The seven-member 2001 Sibert Committee selected as winner Marc Aronson for Sir Walter Ralegh and the Quest for El Dorado (Clarion). Four authors were named for their honor books: Joan Dash for The Longitude Prize (Farrar) with illustrations by Dusan Petricic; Jim Murphy for Blizzard (Scholastic); Sophie Webb for My Season with Penguins: An Antarctic Journal (Houghton); and Judd Winick for Pedro and Me: Friendship, Loss, and What I Learned (Holt).

The ALA Web page (www.ala.org/alsc/sibert_terms.html) spells out all of the award's terms and criteria. To paraphrase, the award, established in memory of Robert F. Sibert, long-time president of Bound-to-Stay-Bound Books in Jacksonville, IL, will be given annually to honor the author whose work of nonfiction from the preceding year has made a significant contribution to the field of children's literature. Information books are defined as those written and illustrated to present, organize, and interpret documentable factual material for children. The award is restricted to U. S. citizens or residents. Criteria enumerate what to consider, such as the quality of writing and illustration, accuracy, clarity, organization, documentation, and presentation.

Our 2001 committee brought impressive book knowledge to the table. To further deepen understanding, we referenced many fine articles and books about nonfiction. I was particularly supported by three books: Eliza Dresang's Radical Change: Books for Youth in a Digital Age (H.W. Wilson, 1999), Patricia J. Cianciolo's Informational Picture Books for Children (ALA, 1999), and Kathleen T. Horning's From Cover to Cover: Evaluating and Reviewing Children's Books (HarperCollins, 1997). Horning also helped launch our Sibert Award deliberations with a valuable workshop on evaluation.

In examining hundreds of information titles published in 2000, our committee gradually honed in on what makes or breaks a book and on what elevates it to the level of "truly distinguished." An important lesson: There is no checklist or formula that insures excellence.

Another important lesson: There is no perfect information book. Each book under consideration (even the winners themselves) raised questions. How does a simple concept book compare to a scholarly history? What about age range? What about inaccuracies? Is documentation complete? How do written and visual elements work together? What about the total package?

These are but a few of the questions we pondered. The answers were not always clear but the selection process was, allowing for a year of thoughtful and thorough deliberation. We learned to weigh relative strengths and weaknesses in information books. We learned to prioritize. We learned to answer the central question: Is information presented for a child audience in a distinguished way?

The answer came back as a resounding "yes" for the winners. And as a slightly qualified "yes" for so many other books. For me, there emerged from the process a fuller appreciation of what gets a book to "yes." So, here's what I learned from the Sibert Award experience: My short (and not exhaustive) list of qualities that distinguish a "truly distinguished" information book.

The solid authority of the author makes for a convincing informational book. Careful research and expert advice can be foundational as can personal experience. Aronson, by training and temperament a historian, infuses his text with his own love of scholarship. Winick digs deep to write about losing a beloved friend to AIDS. These authors display passionate interest in their subjects.

Children are intelligent and curious. Powerfully presented information holds them. These assumptions underpin the 2001 Sibert Award winners. Not one encases the facts in a phony story. The books are instead genuinely child-friendly. Aronson makes reference to modern-day parallels; Webb writes about using an outdoor toilet; Winick trusts kids enough not to be preachy.

As for literary style, subject and audience make demands. Aronson's robust narrative develops both complex character and plot. Murphy seamlessly weaves many stories into one, and Dash turns Harrison's dogged quest into a compelling yarn. In contrast, Winick and Webb write riveting first-person accounts-his in spare cartoon-bubble style to suit topic, theme, and audience and hers as a fresh, illustrated journal.

Graphic elements in the 2001 Sibert winers are used to best advantage. They often convey information better than words—maps, archival reproductions, and original art. They also contribute to mood. The sepia tone in Blizzard suggests a bygone era; the droll ink drawings in Dash's book convey fervor and frustration; the varied comic-book frames in Pedro and Me modulate drama.

Accuracy and clarity build trust. Their absence undermines it. That's the ruling principle. The Sibert Award-winning authors verify facts and figures, clarify concepts, and develop complete pictures. Up-to-date information and ideas are critical, even in the historical works. Webb brings new scientific research to light, and Winick's information is a matter of life-and-death.

Sibert Award-winning histories set a high standard for documentation, each in a different way. Dash seamlessly incorporates references to her source material within the narrative. Murphy offers up a concluding explanative chapter. Aronson blends together his extensive bibliography and endnotes. These authors enumerate, explain, and sometimes even evaluate their sources, fine modeling in this Internet world that makes such evaluation required practice.

In the winner's circle, this is the weakest link. Not one book listed "further reading" suggestions apart from research sources. (Such a list for a young audience ideally includes strong, up-to-date entries.) Internet references do turn up in Aronson's book and in Winick's, a reminder that print sources and e-sources are complementary. Winick's book lists organizations that further educate kids about AIDS and HIV.

The 2001 Sibert winners favor the linear. Their chronological approach is logical for histories, journals, and memoirs. Webb's journal is the only title to invite browsing, and her penguin portraits work regardless of order. Tools that guide readers through the Sibert books include tables of contents and chapter (and other) headings.

Educated guesses come into play when there is a gap in the factual record. The Sibert Award books carefully delineate what's verifiable, conjecture, theoretical, and just not yet understood. With ease and devotion, Dash marks her guesses with words like "perhaps" and "suppose." Murphy and Aronson add their own analysis at many points, using end matter to cite what can be documented.

The Sibert winners make the complex simple and the simple complex. Layering broadens and deepens appeal. Aronson is concerned with Ralegh's life and times, Dash with historiography and history, Winick with friendship and disease prevention. Murphy pays attention to economic class amid the fray and Webb to living conditions, research, and environmental concerns. Facts connect with issues and ideas, and, from context, understanding grows.

The 2001 Sibert winners assist readers in many ways. The challenging Sir Walter Ralegh offers generous help-an introductory note, a map, a time line (global and cross disciplinary), a cast of characters (four pages long!), instructive captioning, and an index. The other winners offer assists as needed. For example, Webb gracefully labels her illustrative watercolors to effectively extend journal entries.

Format matters. Dynamic narrative serves as an anchor for the three histories. Then there's Sophie Webb's choice of format in My Season with Penguins. What better vehicle for an artistic field scientist than a journal of notes and sketches? Winick turns to the hip, graphic memoir in pulpy paperback edition to tell so well his tough and tender cautionary tale for preteen and teen audiences.

Smart design decisions are in sync with content audience. For example, creamy deckle-edged paper is perfect to relay Dash's timeless tale. Elegant as Ralegh himself, pictured on the cover, is Aronson's book-its size, shape, page layout, and typefaces all playing their part. Then there's Webb's journal, with its loose layout and handwritten labeling, reminiscent of the real thing.

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Such synergy characterizes Sibert Award winners. Wise choices about literary and graphic styles, documentation, organization, extensions, ancillary material, format, and book design contribute to overall excellence. Authors also make personal contributions-authority, passion, respect for children, and commitment to accuracy. It's the whole package that simultaneously satisfies and stimulates young readers, the whole package that successfully garners "distinguished" status.

Looking back on its first year, the ALSC/Robert F. Sibert Award seems to be an unqualified success. With start-up fanfare, it has focused attention on five "distinguished" books, on information books in general, and on the qualities that make for excellence. Likewise, it has from the outset raised questions about the future—about elevating standards, connecting kids and content, encouraging innovation, and fitting into an Information Age.