In an earlier post I talked about the lack of respect YA lit gets, and thanks again to Carlie at Librarilly Blonde, I've got another link to yet another article from The New Yorker that in the midst of praising one YA novel, manages to insult YA lit on the whole. Disgraceful.
Why is it that YA lit is judged by its lowest common denominator (and here I really hate to rag on Gossip Girl anymore than necessary, so just fill-in with whatever other title/series lacking literary merit you wish), but "adult" fiction can have its Janet Evanovich and Nora Roberts and whomever else, but still be judged by the award winners? I think that quality literature can be written for a discerning audience of any age, and would prefer to lavish praise on those authors that have found a way to connect with teen and adult audiences alike no matter the age of the lead character or section of the library where that author's works are shelved.
Happily, a few fantastic YA authors were kind enough to leave comments on the New Yorker piece. Carlie also includes links to a few blog reactions to the article as well.