Easy readers, tough topics

Children have always asked the darndest questions.

As times have changed, however, kiddie queries have addressed ever more complex, sensitive issues, often at younger ages. It's enough to leave adults red-faced and tongue-tied.

Now, answers can increasingly be found by the fistful in the form of picture books, illustrated read-alouds aimed at 4- to 8-year-olds.

Cosmetic surgery? Obesity? Prison? Picture books tackle it all - though some librarians frown over the quality of certain offerings.

Taken together, it's a Library of Congress' worth of titles on tough topics, and it seems to say as much about the messages with which wide-eyed youngsters are bombarded as it does about American culture.

"We're on reality overload," said library science professor Steven Herb, director of the Pennsylvania Center for the Book at Pennsylvania State University. "Can't we talk about things without a book sometimes?"

Where Did I Come From?, a 1973 classic on baby-making considered among the first in this genre, seems almost quaint compared with these recent titles:

My Beautiful Mommy, out since spring, prepares preschoolers for Mother's nip-and-tuck.

What Is Jail, Mommy? unlocks the mysteries of the Big House, comparing prison to "big-people's time-out."

Why Daddy Is a Democrat (a sequel to Why Mommy Is a Democrat) lays out the values of the political left in simple sentences. Its illustrations contain a heavy helping of satire, aimed at the adults. Is that really a donkey cleaning up the, um, excrement of a rampaging elephant?

And so on, from allergies - The Peanut-Free Café - to sexual abuse - Not in Room 204 - and all else that might concern the sandbox set.

"These are popular with children because they do address the everyday circumstances of their lives," said Mary W. Strong, an education professor at Widener University who specializes in reading and children's literature.

"Nothing is sacred," she said.

That's a change from the 1950s, when many of today's familiar topics (adoption, families with gay parents, divorce, not to mention politics and plastic surgery) were taboo, Strong said.

Stories about sensitive issues are so prevalent that librarians have their own word for them: bibliotherapy. That's a book that helps a child realize she's not the only one experiencing her situation. Think of it as self-help lit for kids.

Bibliotherapy has grown by stacks, according to librarians. Each year, about 30,000 new titles for the entire juvenile market are published, R.R. Bowker's Books in Print estimated. While the company does not break out books on touchy issues, librarians say they have seen more titles in that category in recent years.

Children's book publisher Albert Whitman & Co., for one, has had a line of "concept books" - those that tackle problems and concerns - since the 1960s. Based on its current catalog, 39 of 91 titles have come out since 2000, with more than one-third printed in the last three years.

"We publish them to fill a need," said Kathy Tucker, editor in chief at the Morton Grove, Ill., company. "Just when I think we've covered it all, some other problem rears its ugly head."

Too Much, new this year, takes on the super-sized topic of childhood obesity.

Mom and Mum are Getting Married untangles gay marriage.

Polar Bear, Why Is Your World Melting? is a primer on global warming. (When the tots are older, they can read The Sky's Not Falling! Why It's OK to Chill About Global Warming, which gives 8- to 12-year-olds a decidedly different view.)

"We need all kinds of books because we have all kinds of children," said Pat Scales, president-elect of the Association for Library Service to Children.

Librarians note that children are facing complex issues at younger ages. "When they start asking questions, that's when we have to start giving answers," Scales said.

That might explain the interest of publishing houses in putting out picture-book titles such as My Big Sister Takes Drugs; Love, Lizzie: Letters to a Military Mom, or My Mommy Has Epilepsy.

And if a would-be author has an issue he thinks needs explanation but can't find a taker, he can self-publish, an option that has stoked bibliotherapy.

That very excess of informational books has some experts urging buyer beware.

"Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's the best source of information," said Natalie Wood, a marketing assistant professor at St. Joseph's University. "Parents need to do due diligence."

Critics of My Beautiful Mommy have complained about the beauty-is-everything message that young girls might glean from the self-published book ($19.95) by Miami cosmetic surgeon Michael Salzhauer. It explains what a child can expect when a parent gets a tummy tuck and comes home bruised and bandaged. Disneyesque illustrations show a princess-perfect after-Mommy.

A tale of a nose job was inevitable, said Herb of the Pennsylvania Center for the Book. "How can children not need something like this when television airwaves are filled with reality?" he asked. "We've really turned an interesting corner."

Salzhauer, the surgeon, defended his decision to write the story by pointing to his patients, a growing number of them young mothers who "have difficulty broaching the subject," he said. "The point is not to explain in anatomical detail every bruise and every stitch. This is supposed to be a conversation-starter."

Other books approach issues from a decidedly strong point of view, appealing to parents who want to read stories that reflect their values.

Joey Gonzalez, Great American, out this year, presents affirmative action as a roadblock to self-esteem. Another conservative offering, Help! Mom! There Are Liberals Under My Bed!, dissects the left.

Political scientist Jeremy Zilber, author of the two Democrat books, doesn't apologize for his lopsided viewpoint, in which Democrats alone get credit for great schoolteachers, parks and much else.

"I mean what I say," said Zilber, who self-published the books. "It's a little idealistic, but it's based on truth. . . . The belief is that political parties are something we should shield our children from. I have the opposite belief."

Jane Istvan, 42, of East Falls, a mother of two boys ages 5 and 9, bought the Mommy version as a humorous baby-shower gift. She hasn't read it with her own sons, though. "I think they wouldn't get it," she said. "I'm more on the level of 'George Bush cheated.' "

Sandhya Taghavi, 42, of Wayne, has read several books about adoption to her son, Sunni, 5, who was adopted from India as an infant. A Mother for Choco and It's Not the Stork! are favorites.

"When it comes to any tough topic, sitting down and saying, 'I want to talk to you, son or daughter,' doesn't work," she said. Books are a more natural starting point.

Taghavi, though, is selective. "A book can also turn a child off," she said. "It has the power to do both."