One word makes children's book lover a national cause celebre

Susan Patron is the kind of reader who really lives books: She jokes that years before she came to work in the Los Angeles Public Library system she spent virtually all her free time in its branches. When she met the man who would become her husband, some of their early dates were at Chatterton's, the now shuttered Los Angeles bookstore.

But now this warm, cardigan-clad veteran of the city's Central Library - a well-known and admired figure in the city's children's lit circles - has become a kind of Henry Miller of the preteen set. Her recent Newbery Award-winning book, The Higher Power of Lucky, aimed at readers ages 9 to 11, has been denounced by librarians, some of whom have declined to order it, all over the country. Rallying to her defense has been a collection of supporters in the press, in bookstores, and online. Barbara Walters spoke up in favor of the book on The View, and Simon & Schuster, Patron's publisher, has fielded inquiries from David Letterman's show.


"It was very hard at first, because some of the loudest voices against it were coming from librarians," Patron, 58, said in the downtown library's cafeteria over a hot cup of tea. These are, after all, her people. She's been likened by one of them, unfavorably, to shock jock Howard Stern.

The controversy has focused on a single passage on the first page, in which the book's 10-year-old heroine, Lucky, an orphaned girl living in a tiny desert town in the Eastern Sierras, overhears a recovering alcoholic recounting his lowest moment. It came one day "when he had drunk half a gallon of rum listening to Johnny Cash all morning," and fell out of his car "when he saw a rattlesnake on the passenger seat biting his dog, Roy, on the scrotum." (Patron has said the detail was based on a real incident.) Lucky later decides that the word "sounded medical and secret, but also important."


If only Lucky had known just how important some grownups would find the word, which as it turns out plays only the smallest part in the book. Because children's books depend heavily on librarians for sales and circulation, the outrage that has erupted on such online discussion groups as LM'Net could damage the book's reach. The Newbery is awarded by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association. But some librarians and teachers have said they find the book vulgar, some said they were uncomfortable reading the word aloud, and others have said they don't want calls from angry parents. Patron herself, meanwhile, has received "pretty nasty" e-mails.

Patron, a former branch children's librarian who's in charge of assembling children's materials for the Los Angeles system, can take the long view on the history of controversial children's books. She was surprised by the outcry; her French-born husband was, she said, "nonplused."

"I think this came up because it's on Page One," said Patron, "and because it's won this major award. For people who don't like to read this whole book, but just to object to a word, I handed it to them, you know? They didn't have to go further."

Over the book's 134 pages, Lucky worries that her guardian will move back to her native France, catches bugs, consorts with her dog HMS Beagle and her friend Lincoln, who is a member of the International Guild of Knot Tyers. To an adult eye, it mostly comes off as pretty sweet and innocent - a typical child's journey.

"She's trying to grow up," said Patron, "trying to find out what she needs to be an adult."

Young Adult, or "YA," books, which are typically aimed at readers 11 or 12 and older, often cover controversial ground, dealing with sexuality, painful coming-of-age issues and world crises. But Lucky is more of a children's book.

The most frequently discussed objection to the book comes from Dana Nillson, a teacher and librarian in Durango, Colo., writing on the LM'Net mailing list: "The book included what I call a Howard Stern-type shock treatment just to see how far they could push the envelope, but they didn't have the children in mind. How very sad." Nillson did not return a call for comment.

"Somehow," Patron said, "there's a perception in America that you can put your kids in front of the TV, let them play certain kinds of games and expose them to absolutely atrocious levels of violence and language. But somehow the book is sacred. And especially the Newbery winner."


Whether because of the Newbery, which was announced Jan. 22, or the controversy, the book has climbed onto best-seller lists and is shipping steadily from

"Selling well would mean to me that kids will have access to the book, and that's what every writer craves," she said. "To be read."

Scott Timberg writes for the Los Angeles Times.