The Young and the Graphic Novel
 When it comes to graphic books for kids, it's no longer just manga. Beowulf, anyone?
Indeed, with several big-name launches set for this spring and a swarm of new titles, it is clear that the landscape has changed dramatically. A market once dominated by manga has, over the past few years, seen the gradual entry of the graphic novel—typically a format used for adult titles.
A nice bit of validation recently came when Gene Luen Yang's American Born Chinese (Roaring Brook/First Second) became the first book in this genre to win the Printz Award. "There really is a high level of inspiration among publishers," said Mark Siegel, editorial director of First Second. "If you're a kid growing up in America right now, there are some really exciting authors and creators. It'll be obvious in hindsight, when we look back on these years, that something special was happening."
Siegel said his company has 11 titles planned for 2007, roughly two-thirds of which are aimed at all ages or young readers. Like most publishers entering the space, he believes that reader demand is driving the new wealth of titles. "Librarians have been saying for 10 years now that comics are always off the shelves," he said. "That's real reader demand. There's more of that than publishers think."
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September 2001, New York City: in the space of a few days Jensen loses his girlfriend, his apartment, his job, his grandmother and a local landmark. He decides to buy an Ameripass on Greyhound and travel around America by bus for the next two months, staying with people he knows only via the Internet, in a bid to find himself... or at least the secret of life. Instead of any such easy tropes, Jensen finds "the common man" of today—an America of decent enough Gen-X and Gen-Y slackers. This graphic novel is mostly their little oddball stories—a woman whose co-worker wears her aborted fetus as a necklace; a childhood quest for Bigfoot that turns up a bum; a sloppy
roommate from hell. Jensen's own quest is mostly a litany of uncomfortable bus rides and the constant need for a shower. His journey is portrayed as surprisingly mundane except for a surreal stop in a Southern town whose residents amuse themselves by pulling flaming sofas behind trucks. Jensen resists all attempts at sentimentality; similarly, the rough, blocky art makes no pretense at beauty for its own sake, but gets across these sympathetic, quirky tales with brisk efficiency. (Feb.) 
