This is Reality: NOT A Review (But My Reflections on) Make Believe: On Telling Stories to Children

May 28, 2026 by Jennifer Clemons, MLIS
Curator, Butler Children’s LIterature Center

Let me tell you a true story. In early April 2024, I sat amongst a hundred or so professionals in the area of youth people’s literature—publishers, writers, illustrators, librarians—for a Bologna Children’s Book Fair session billed “Mac Barnett, are you ever going to write a real book? Why children’s books are a very serious thing.” The program blurb promoted Mac Barnett in dialogue with Maria Russo (then of the New York Times Book Review) and Giulia Rizzo (publisher at Terre di Mezzo Editore, Italy) discussing his first book for “grown-ups,” La Porta Segreta (Terre di Mezzo Editore) and talking about why children’s literature is literature in its own right and why children are the ideal readers (Bologna Children’s Book Fair, 2024). I was excited. Everyone was excited. There was an expectation that this essay collection would be inspiring. That it would stand up for children and for all of us that had traveled all the way to Italy as a testament to the importance of books for youth.

Looking back on my notes from the day, I did leave with a feeling that the book would live up to that expectation. Here are a few of my thoughts:

“Children’s books should have a broad definition, not necessarily to just teach or mold or entertain, they can be all of those things, and each has value.”

“If you don’t think children’s books are real books, you must not think children are real people.” I believe my note is nearly a direct quote from the book.

“Children deserve better!”

“Published in Italian only—bummer—watch for US pub information.”

And as soon as I saw the first advertisement for Make Believe (a title change from the Italian La Porta Segreta or The Secret Door), the order was placed. But before it even arrived, the online kid lit world responded. And inspired was definitely not the response. Incensed. Disgusted. Overwhelmingly negative, with just a few outliers defending Barnett’s work. Since the conversation was so far off from what I recall from the BCBF conversation, I wanted to read, react, and process for myself. So here goes…

Of course, not all children’s books are great children’s books. That’s not possible, and not the issue. There is always going to be a scale of quality, especially considering how many books are published each year. No one that has seen the recent AI creations available for kids could possibly argue otherwise. But even our very human creations can sometimes miss the mark. That is not the comparison Barnett makes, anyway. His argument, made within the first twenty pages of his brief collection, is where Barnett lost the kid lit world. He poses his theory, a play on Sturgeon’s revelation (Sturgeon, 1957): “Barnett’s Addendum to Sturgeon’s Law: Maybe more like 94.7% of children’s books are crud” (Barnett, 2026). This made-up statistic. This denigration of the industry to which he belongs. This flippant comment as the premise of a work meant to position children’s books as an important art form.

Yes, Barnett makes some good points about books, about children, and about the professional world dedicated to connecting them. “When we dismiss children’s books, what we’re really doing is failing to recognize the potential of children” (Barnett, 2026). It’s accurate that there are plenty of adults out there who don’t respect children’s literature and, frankly, don’t respect children. By and large, though, the type of adult who might fall into that category is unlikely to pick up a book like Make Believe. Barnett was preaching to the choir, or more accurately, lecturing them.

Children are intelligent, creative, curious, and often spoken at rather than spoken with. They ask questions (so many questions) because they are in a constant state of trying to figure things out. This is just one reason books must serve a variety of purposes for young readers. They are building their understanding of everything at once. Books are a way to explore new things at their own pace, learn from others’ experiences, see themselves as the hero, or to escape all that learning with a really spectacular story. This is a reason to give access to more books, not provide a reason to read fewer.

Mac Barnett was selected by the Library of Congress as the current National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, meant to raise “national awareness of the importance of young people’s literature as it relates to lifelong literacy, education and the development and betterment of the lives of young people” (Library of Congress, 2026). The opinions shared in his book seem to do the opposite. The creators and book industry professionals who have spoken out against this book, and there are many, have shared their outrage across social media and in a letter to the Library of Congress. Their arguments are many, varied, and justified.

Critics comment on his derision for books he calls “didactic,” and the harm that label has posed to marginalized authors and illustrators. When the majority of books from a community are centered on their trauma (because that’s what gets published), any attempt to limit or censor them will ultimately lead to less diversity in the books being published.

Some question Barnett’s placing himself in a position to decide what a quality book looks like. While he calls out some acknowledged standouts in the canon of youth lit, they tend to be classics like Good Night Moon, Busytown, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. This leaves unsaid, but still read by many, that books being published by his contemporaries are “the crud.”

While I am appalled by this fabricated statistic and what it implies, my outrage lies in the fact that a writer chosen by the Library of Congress, in part as someone who is revered by children and who has earned the respect and admiration of his peers and is dedicated to fostering children’s literacy as a whole, beyond their own body of work, (LOC, Selection Criteria) chose to use his platform to target his own colleagues and industry. When the role of the ambassador is meant to celebrate stories, encourage children and their adults to enjoy reading, and build engagement and community around books for youth, he has squandered that chance.

The tone of the collection is another concern. For a book presuming to argue for the value and importance of children’s literature as serious art, Barnett chooses to make his point in a flippant and often snarky voice. Who’s to say what inspired this choice (perhaps privilege)? By and large, Barnett’s picture books and middle grade titles are silly, known for their clever humor and cheeky text. But as a writer who purports to know his audience, he should have known better than to apply his usual tone while making a point (to adults) about the serious undervaluing of youth literature. Especially in an era where these books are under attack on many fronts, giving ammunition to book banners, politicians, school boards, and everyone else looking to limit children’s reading choices.

Now, Barnett has issued apologies through several platforms:

In an interview with fellow author Jeff Kinney: “So, there’s this long passage that I wrap up with a hyperbolic sentence. I was really loose at the exact time that I should have been tightening my argument. This sentence got screen-shotted and shared. I was watching writers and illustrators and people in the kids’ book community—and that is my community—sharing it and feeling really hurt. I felt terrible. I got why. I saw that sentence and my name next to it and I was like, ‘oh no,’ because in a lot of ways it was the opposite, certainly of that section, of the point I wanted to make in the book, which was about striving to make the best books for kids. I would not write it the same way again. If anybody saw it and felt like I let them down, I am so sorry. It’s on me. I did write that sentence. I did not wrap up the argument the right way” (Yorio, 2026).

And in a prepared statement via the Library of Congress. “Thank you for the opportunity to respond,” he wrote. “First of all, I want to acknowledge the passage I wrote is hurtful, especially to people who work hard making books for kids. I understand why people are upset and feel betrayed. In trying to make a point, I got hyperbolic and glib. I was wrong. I’m truly sorry” (op de Beeck, 2026).

The effectiveness of his apologies, and the response of the industry he’s denigrated, remain to be seen.

As a librarian, book reviewer, and youth literature advocate, I’m disappointed. Did I deeply misinterpret the interview at the Bologna Children’s Book Fair? Was the interview lacking honesty or thoroughness? Words have consequences. Words shared on a big stage by a professional with a wide reach have bigger consequences. The tenure of the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature is a uniquely important and influential stage. It’s an opportunity to advocate for books, creators, and children, to build bridges between them and the wider world, to foster an environment that lifts up children and the adults who support them.

Isn’t that what an ambassador is meant to do?


*If you’re interested in continuing the conversation with BCLC during future programs and events, please contact us at butler@dom.edu

References:

Barnett, M. (2026). Make Believe: On Telling Stories to Children. Little, Brown and Company

Bologna Children’s Book Fair. (2024). The 61st Bologna Children’s Book Fair: The Selected Themes for the 2024 Edition. https://www.bolognachildrensbookfair.com/media/libro/press_release/2024/ENG/04._E_MAIN_THEMES.pdf

Library of Congress (n.d.). History of the Position: Youth Ambassador: Poetry & Literature https://www.loc.gov/programs/poetry-and-literature/national-ambassador-for-young-peoples-literature/history-of-the-position/

op de Beeck, N. (2026, May 7). “Children’s Book Community Responds in Outrage to Mac Barnett Comments.” PW. https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/childrens/childrens-authors/article/100361-children-s-book-community-responds-in-outrage-to-comment-by-national-ambassador-mac-barnett.html

Sturgeon, T. (1957, September). “On Hand: A Book.” Venture Science Fiction, Vol. 1 (No. 5), pp. 49–50.

Yorio, K. (2026, May 7). “Mac Barnett Responds Amid Continued Backlash.” School Library Journal. https://www.slj.com/story/Mac-Barnett-Responds-Amid-Continued-Backlash