I see it all the time: Kids are brought into the bookshop and told to choose a book. They choose a book. The parent/grandparent takes one look and says Oh no, not that. Arguing ensues.

Why? Often it’s a graphic novel. Phrases like “real book” and “reading book” are bandied about. (Yes, “reading book” is what we have come to.)

I stand in the background biting my tongue and pretending not to listen and when the kid finally makes it successfully to the till I gush about how great a book it is and how much I love it and how much they’re going to love it and how well they’ve chosen. The parents always seem a little chastened at that point, and looking for reassurance – which I provide, explaining that words are art, yes, and pictures are art, and when they get too close together they do not create some kind of matter/anti-matter situation.

My favorite was the mum who kicked up an enormous fuss but finally gave in, saying on her way to the till, Well just don’t bring it to school, I can’t imagine what your English teacher would say if she saw you reading that. The book in question? Maus. I told her it was required reading in my high school.

The only real objection the adults can raise is that graphic novels take a lot less time to read. This is true. This is also why they get read again and again and again and again. They become known, deeply. They become loved. They are, if you like, investment pieces. Anyway, macarons take a lot less time to eat than a slice of chocolate cake, so what’s your point?

But graphic novels don’t need my defense; they don’t need any defense. They are what the kid wants to read. Let them. A kid who grows up reading comics has three possible paths in front of them:

1. They read comics for a while, then move on to books without pictures. Graphic novels are absolutely wonderful for overcoming a kid’s hesitance when faced with a large block of text. They transform – I have seen this over and over, including with Rowan – reluctant readers into avid ones.
2. They read comics for a while, add in books without pictures, and continue to enjoy both. It me, my dad, Richard…
3. They only ever read graphic novels.

The last is the least likely – I’ve never met anyone who’s followed that path – but even if it does happen, so what? There is just as much literary and imaginative value in graphic novels as in non-graphic novels. All the same benefits continue to apply. In other words, there is no problem.

If you have any doubts, I’ll let Katherine Rundell spell it out for you:
A defense of reading for pleasure (is there another way to read?)

Every once in a great while I see the opposite problem:
First, a kid came into the shop. My favorite kind: around 11/12, able to ask for help, happy to chat a little about what he was after, a good kid. Gives me hope for the future. Anyway what he wanted was a book of crosswords. The kid ones were too kiddy, so I showed him the adult ones. He took about 10 minutes and picked one out and bought it. Success.
…Twenty minutes later he’s back, trailing his grandmother, who waves the book at me and says it’s far too advanced for him, generally acting as if I’d pushed cocaine or Portnoy’s Complaint on him. It is clear that he has no choice in this matter, and that whatever he said to her in that interval she hasn’t heard. I patiently show her the kid crosswords and walk her through his process. I suggest, gently, that the best judge of what he can do, or is prepared to do, is him. Yes, I agree, these crosswords will likely be a bit of a challenge. Is that not – again gently – a good thing? She doesn’t really hear me any more than she heard him, but we gave it our best shot. I looked at him and shrugged and smiled and did my best to indicate that I, at least, believed in him.

“Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.”¹

Parents come in for plenty of this, but grandparents often seem especially clueless. Which I can’t hold against them exactly; there have been a lot of books published since the last time they visited the children’s section, and they don’t see their grandkids that often, etc etc. I have space for their uncertainty. What I don’t have space for is the ones who ask my advice and then argue with me. Listen. You need help. I know you need help; you know you need help; that is why you asked me for help; I am very capable of providing that help. So don’t give me that look when I recommend a book with a female protagonist for your grandson. What is your bloody endgame, after all? Do you want him to turn into your husband, who only reads books by other old white men about WWII?

I am good at my job. And my job, as I see it, is to get the right book in the right hands at the right time. Simple. Some books are better than others. But the best book might not be the best book for you right now. (Or, for that matter, for your kid.) Last week I found something just right for:

• A mum with an almost-one-month old, locked out of her house on a sunny day, who had just given her husband Colson Whitehead for St. George’s Day (a sort of Spanish Valentine’s, apparently, but instead of chocolates they give books. I told her it sounded much better than the English St. George’s, where everyone just got super racist.)
• A student taking a break from their chemistry degree who needed something that would fit into their stylish bum bag.
• A man whose wife was trying to push A Little Life on him but they were renovating their house and already stressed enough as it is thank you.
• A 12-year-old boy who loved Alex Rider and Harry Potter and Naughts & Crosses and Hunger Games and all the other “kid” series and wanted more but wasn’t sure where to turn until I gave him permission to graduate to the SFF section proper.

Usually I give someone three to five books to choose from. Every once in a while it’s one-and-done and you just have to trust me. Either way, I promise, I know what I’m doing.

Sometimes, my job is to tell you to go to the library. Really. Not all books deserve to be bought. Daisy Meadows, I’m looking at you (whomever(s) you are). But at the library you don’t have to justify your purchase; the book doesn’t have to be “worth” anything. You’re allowed to try things out. You’re allowed to not finish. You’re allowed to read children’s books, and you probably should. Your kids are allowed to read whatever appeals to them and it does not cost you a dime. It’s magical. Check it out.

¹Dumbledore

Recipe: Spinach turmeric fish curry, a guaranteed crowd pleaser here.