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Morning Edition, January 27, 2009 · The American Library Association has given the prestigious Newbery Medal for children's literature to Neil Gaiman for his novel The Graveyard Book. It's the story of a boy raised by the ghostly inhabitants of a cemetery.
Euan Kerr reports for Minnesota Public Radio.
"I am so wonderfully befuddled," the best-selling author said Monday after winning the 88th annual Newbery for "The Graveyard Book," a spooky, but (he says) family friendly story about a boy raised by a vampire, a werewolf and a witch.
"I never really thought of myself as a Newbery winner. It's such a very establishment kind of award, in the right kind of way, with the world of librarians pointing at the book saying, `This is worthy of the ages.' And I'm so very used to working in, and enjoying working in, essentially the gutter."
Gaiman, known for his "Sandman" comic-book series, had worked on the "Graveyard Book" off and on for more than 20 years, an understandable delay for the author of more than 20 books and the winner of prizes for science fiction, fantasy and horror.
Gaiman is a beloved writer for adults and children, but "The Graveyard Book" isn't the coziest read, at least at the beginning, with its image of a knife so sharp that "if it sliced you, you might not even know you had been cut, not immediately."
He says "The Graveyard Book" was inspired in part by "The Jungle Book," Rudyard Kipling's classic about a boy raised by animals. Gaiman's book opens with a baby boy escaping an assassin who kills his parents and older sister. The boy totters to a decrepit cemetery, where he's adopted by ghosts, christened Nobody Owens (Bod for short) and given the Freedom of the Graveyard.
On Gaiman's blog, he writes that "The Graveyard Book" is not a children's book. It's "a book for pretty much for all ages, although I'm not sure how far down that actually starts. I think I would have loved it when I was eight, but I don't think that all eight-year olds were like me."
On Monday, Gaiman said he has been following the debate about the Newbery, never imagining he would become part of it. Beloved by readers and book-sellers, he is certainly far more popular than the past few Newbery winners, and he doesn't think his novel, beyond a little death and darkness, is upsetting.
"Apart from the first few pages, it doesn't exist to frighten people or trouble people," he said. "I've written my share of disturbing stuff, but this book is really a way of trying to think about the process of growing up, and, of course, the fundamentally joyous tragedy of being a parent, that if you do your job properly, your kids will grow up and leave you."
Gaiman, 48, has three children. Two have grown and moved away.

by Fred Kight
Morning Edition, January 26, 2009 · The states of Ohio and Kentucky are battling over a most unlikely object: a graffiti-covered rock.
From a distance, Indian Head Rock isn't much to look at, an unremarkable, brownish boulder about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. But a closer look reveals what makes the rock — first written about in an archeological publication in 1847 — more than just an ordinary boulder.
"In early days, it was called the Portsmouth Indians' head rock. It's a life-sized depiction of a smiley face," Nichols says.
The trouble started last year when the 8-ton, sandstone boulder was hauled out of the Ohio River. On one side of the river is Portsmouth and on the other is South Shore, Ky. Indian Head Rock was submerged 60 feet from the Kentucky shore until it was fished out.
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Finding the rock wasn't easy. Once partially submerged, it hadn't been seen since the 1920s after navigational dams raised the river level and hid the boulder for decades.
But historian Steve Shaffer, the central character in this ongoing fight, had read stories about Indian Head Rock when he was a kid and vowed to find it. After many diving excursions, Shaffer and some buddies located the relic, pulled it out of the river and donated it to Portsmouth.
The mayor of Portsmouth, recognizing that the Ohio River is actually in Kentucky, offered it to the town of South Shore, Ky. Officials there weren't interested, so the plan was to display the boulder in Portsmouth.
That's when Kentucky state officials got involved; they say the rock belongs to them. Kentucky Attorney General Jack Conway wrote a letter demanding its return.
"This was a registered antiquity in Kentucky and it was taken, and that's theft of an antiquity under the statute," Conway says.
But Ohio officials said the Indian Head Rock belonged to them. To further complicate the matter, the Army Corps of Engineers claims it has jurisdiction over the boulder.
Shaffer isn't talking to the media because taking the boulder from the Ohio River bottom put him in legal jeopardy. He and one of his helpers were indicted this summer on felony charges.
It's not clear what will happen to Indian Head Rock. For now, this piece of American history sits a most inauspicious place — in a corner of a municipal garage in Portsmouth.
Fred Kight reports for member station WOUB.
Sam was a galunky kind of guy,
my cousin says. He walked like this.
He takes on a bow-legged swagger
that makes us laugh. And boy,
could he drink beer. He lifts his hand,
tipping imaginary cans in quick succession.
He talked real fast too. Back then we laughed,
asked what was the rush? Never slowed him any.
Girls loved him. He was such a big guy,
think they figured he must have a big heart.
My cousin slows a little in his walk,
tugs on his ear to remember more.

"Fishing" by Kate Scott, from Stitches. © Peterloo Poets, 2003.
