Just like that famous line from T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," the books glossed here try, in their way, to upset the YA universe of sassy, tiny heroines fighting and beating impossible (truly) odds in a despotic and ruined dystopian future.

Recently, I hosted a whole day of Rhetoric classes tasked with checking out a book. Rather than having them wreak mad chaos in our already chaotic media center, I hosted Speed Dating with books for them. The students got to spend 5 minutes at every table, checking out books in different genres, so they could determine which match was true love (for today).

And it all went swimmingly. Except at the "World Literature" table. Why? What's so scary about literature from other countries? Is life in Plainfield so exciting and full of adventure that no one wants to travel at all, not even through the pages of a book?

Which books were at that table? Why did they fail to spark interest? What can I do to collect and market books that meet two of my biggest collection development goals: expand interest in literature from around the world and get more works by people of color in my community's hands?

This fantastic book tells the story of the Rwandan genocide from the perspective of a middle distance runner who's working to make the Olympic team when the massacres begin in earnest. It took until the end of the day to find its reader match.

An impressive debut novel that describes life in late 19th century France from the perspective of the poor and ugly, it asks questions about class and friendship and about the uses and limits of beauty. And it's set in Paris. Paris! But it was only noticed when moved to the table of historical fiction.

A story about blood diamonds and the lives of the people they touch is still on our shelf, waiting to be checked out.

But all these books, even with their world perspectives, are written by white men and women, most of them American.

If you're looking to expand your collection by better representing people of color and authors from around the world, you might look to the state-sponsored book lists for guidance. That could be a good place to start. But the books for the Middle Grades, as represented by the Rebecca Caudill award, are also overwhelmingly white and/or American centered.

(Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

Golden Boy, by Tara Sullivan, is eye opening and provocative (it also had the dubious distinction of coming to attention around the same time as another book with the same name about an intersex teenager questioning their identity in England. Not the same book at all.) But it's still a white American writing about an African country that's not her own, not a Tanzanian writing about Tanzania. And I wonder about the inherent white privilege of her status, even though she grew up an outsider herself, an American in places like Bolivia, India and the Caribbean. What difference does it make if a book about a country is written by a native of that country?

Or if a book about prejudice and racism is written by someone with the lived experience of being a person of color in racially conflicted America?

Do the Abe books do any better? Let's see ...

Wait, nope, that's not the one ...

There we go, with the unfortunately named but incredibly powerful story of the other genocide occurring World War II, the one perpetrated by Stalin, one that eventually claimed the lives of 50 million people, many who died of starvation. This particular fiction describes the horrors one family experienced when they were pulled from their middle class home in the middle of the night, sent to a labor camp in the dead center of Russia and eventually shipped up to Siberia where they tried their best to survive a terrible winter in the most desperate conditions. What saved them? Love.

Did you know that in Iran, being gay is a crime punishable by death but if you're transgender, the state pays for sex re-assignment surgery? This fictional work describes the lengths two teenage Iranian girls in love will--and won't go--to be together. Even though it's a very small book, it's full of interesting tidbits about life in modern Iran.

One of our most popular ABE selections this year, this book describes the life of a very rich, very damaged family. Contains unreliable narrators, rich figurative language, and a mystery that relies on something very close to magical realism to keep readers guessing until the very end (and sometimes even after). Even though issues of white privilege and racism are tangentially addressed, I was still struck by how very white this book is.

However, readers of We Were Liars may also enjoy this book by my current favorite author, Nigerian writer Chimamanda Adichie.

You may have heard of her for several reasons: 1) Beyonce name-checked this book, Americanah, and it immediately rose to the top of the NYT bestseller list and 2) She's given several TED talks that deal with education. This is a big book, not for the faint of heart, and probably not for every reader in your library.

A good next book for any reader who appreciates Purple Hibiscus, and my favorite of Adichie's works. It details the terrible civil war that tore Nigeria apart in the late 60's and early 70's, the terrible suffering perpetrated by this conflict, and the stubborn refusal of the West to notice or get involved. Also, there's a movie! (which is sure to disappoint because ... it's a movie of a book and the book is so so good).

Although this isn't strictly written for the YA market (and this is one of the main difficulties in finding true world literature for our libraries), its simple style and subject matter make it a good starting point. The narrator in this work is reliable, but it's still about a family whose secrets might tear it apart. What are people willing to do for love? For freedom? Both We Were Liars and Purple Hibiscus ask and answer these questions in powerful ways.

Two last books to highlight, for those trying to expand their collection in the two areas I've mentioned: world literature and/or books by people of color.

This book details the myriad perspectives in a city when a white man shoots a black boy, without demonizing any group or arriving at any solid conclusions. Like that FB relationship status: It's Complicated.

Finally, this book has gotten so much buzz and I can't wait to read it when Follett finally fulfills the rest of my State Library Grant order. Incredibly timely, this book, written from two perspectives, looks at a story around police brutality and racism. A really interesting interview with both authors, can be found here: http://www.nbcnews.com/video/writing-about-race-new-book-all-american-boys-...

It talks about how the authors were inspired to write the book and what they hope their readers take away from it.