Archive for the ‘Picture Book Spotlight’ Category

Books We Love #I’ve Lost Count

October 6, 2010 @ 10:14 am | Filed under: ,

Miss Suzy by Miriam Young, illustrated by Arnold Lobel.

Some days are Miss Suzy days. (When you’re a four-year-old girl, pretty much every day is a Miss Suzy day.) Today is gray and drizzly, a rarity for us here in sunny SoCal. Especially in October, which I’ve been recalibrated (after four years here) to think of as That Baking Hot Month When It’s All About the Santa Anas. Wildfire month. But not today. Today is chilly, blankety weather. I was tempted to call off the older kids’ morning activity, just so I wouldn’t have to venture out from under the quilt. But I didn’t. Out we went, and home we came, and the baby went down for an early nap, and Rilla and Wonderboy and I cuddled up to visit Miss Suzy.

When I open its pages, I’m swept again with the same wave of love I felt as a small girl. Oh how I adore Miss Suzy’s house. The firefly lamps, the moss rug, the acorn cups. Please can’t I live there? I feel now exactly as I did at age—I don’t know, four? five? six? When did I encounter this book? Who read it to me?

Those horrible red squirrels. I remember how sick I felt the first time I turned the page and saw that awful squirrel cracking Miss Suzy’s dear twig broom in half. How impressed I was by the grand, cobwebby dollhouse, and how well I understood Miss Suzy’s not-quite-contentment there, even after she’d tidied it up, even after she had the nice toy soldiers to mother. She could see the stars from her bed in the little house in the old oak tree, her poor little ransacked house overrun with the quarrelsome red squirrels.

Wonderboy enjoys the book well enough, but Rilla is as enchanted as ever I was. As I write this, I can hear her humming in the next room; she’s writing (and I quote) “my own version of Miss Suzy, a-cept it has a chickmunk instead of a squirrel.” I’m under orders not to peek until she’s ready.

I hope she includes the acorn cups.

4oth anniversary edition published by Purple House Press. Who the heck are Purple House Press? Oh my goodness, I just looked them up—I had no idea! They’re doing reprints of out-of-print children’s classics! They’re the folks who brought back Twig! Purple House Press, you are my new best friends!

More book recommendations here.

Recently Read

September 13, 2010 @ 7:46 pm | Filed under: ,

Memento Mori by Muriel Spark. What a peculiar book. I mean that in the best way. Maud Newton’s enthusiasm for this novel spurred me to read it. An assortment of elderly folks are being disturbed by anonymous phone calls—the caller’s voice varies—addressing them by name and saying “Remember you must die.” The narrative has a kind of deceptively Agatha Christie flavor, but it’s quite rich literary fiction, not pulp; and you’re never quite sure if you’re reading a mystery or a meditation. I loved that about it. The characters are so finely drawn I felt as if they were people I knew, which sounds like a book-review cliche but it’s one of those observations that is widely used because it matters, and when an author manages this feat, it’s an accomplishment worth noting. But really the only thing familiar about these people is that they’re so specific and unpigeonholeable. Real people never do fit perfectly into literary archetypes; we’re too inconsistent and layered. Spark’s characters are like that.


Shark vs. Train by Chris Barton, illustrated by the great Tom Lichtenheld. There’s a genre jump for you! This is a picture book—a perfect picture book, I tweeted the day I read it. “A perfect marriage of art and text” is another reviewer’s cliche but by golly it’s no overstatement in this case. Two little boys run for a toybox and brandish their selections in triumph and challenge. Shark vs. train—who wins? It depends…what’s the competition? Pie-eating? Diving? Marshmallow roasting? The stakes keep escalating, to hilarious effect. Rilla and Wonderboy sit and pore over the art, which is sharp and comic and enchanting. I find myself wishing my nephews and nieces hadn’t all grown up so much: this would be my birthday book of choice this year.


A Long Walk to Water by Newbery medalist Linda Sue Park. I received an advance review copy of this middle-grade novel—a digital galley, actually, the first review copy I’ve read on my Kindle. It’s a book I’ll be passing on to my 9-and-up kids. The narrative weaves back and forth between the tragic (and true) struggles of a Sudanese boy, Salva, separated from his family in 1985 and, like so many of Sudan’s “Lost Boys,” cast into a dangerous landscape in search of asylum, and a contemporary (2008) Sudanese girl, Nya, who spends her entire day making a long trek to a muddy, bacteria-ridden pond to fetch water for her family. I won’t give away how the two narratives intersect. It’s a true story, deftly told, and it’s a story—a real and present hardship—I want my children to know about.


Similarly, Mitali Perkins’s new novel, Bamboo People, both moved and edified me, and I handed it to Jane the moment I finished. Before this book, I had only the haziest understanding of what’s going on in Burma: teenage boys being conscripted into military service, forced into the jungle to hunt down ethnic minorities they are taught to hate and fear. This novel, too, is told by two voices: there is studious 15-year-old Chiko, horrified to find himself torn away from his home and thrust into a military training camp, and young Tu Reh, a Karenni boy whose village has been destroyed by the Burmese government and who longs to join his father in the fight for freedom and revenge. When their paths intersect, the tension ratchets higher. What I love about Mitali Perkins’s writing is that she draws her characters with such tenderness and blunt honesty. These boys are in an ugly situation and both fervently want to do the right thing, but in these horrific circumstances the “right thing” isn’t always easy to define.

Rilla-books

February 1, 2010 @ 9:37 am | Filed under: ,

Last week I shared pictures of Wonderboy’s favorite book. This week it’s Rilla’s turn for a books post. I’m going to try to get in the habit of doing this regularly, for our family records as much as anything else. These are the picture books she enjoyed most in the past week:

Big Bad Bunny by Franny Billingsley, illustrated by G. Brian Karas. This was one of the books I received for review as a Cybils panelist in 2008, and it was a hit with my family. Big Bad Bunny is on the loose, and Mama Mouse has just discovered her littlest mouse-baby is missing. She’ll brave any peril to find her baby—even Big Bad Bunny’s long sharp claws and fierce yellow teeth. Rilla loves the repetitive text and watches each page for the chance to shout “No!” when I ask if something will stop Mama Mouse. It’s very comforting, when you’re three, to know that Mama will face danger to find you and bring you safely home.

Alfonse, Where Are You? by Linda Wikler. Scott had the fun of reading this family favorite to Rilla at naptime yesterday. Lucky man. It’s out of print now, alas, but there are used copies floating around. Alfonse is a big old goose, and his fluffy yellow friend Little Bird wants to play hide-and-seek. Trouble is, Alfonse hides too well…all of our small fry have loved this sweet book. Rilla asks for it over and over.

Trubloff, the Mouse Who Wanted to Play the Balalaika by John Burningham. A strange little book with somber, gorgeous, heavy-toned illustrations, all reds, oranges, and blacks, with a vast expanse of snow. Trubloff lives with his mouse family inside the wall of a country pub. He befriends an elderly member of a band of traveling musicians, and the old gypsy makes him a tiny instrument of his own. Rather too text-heavy to hold my littles’ attention, so it requires a bit of impromptu editing, and yet they keep asking for it. Something about the mouse’s passion to learn how to play his instrument—so intense that he leaves his family to travel with the musicians—holds them rapt. And then when the mouse sister strikes out on skis to fetch Trubloff home to see his sick mother—Rilla does that quivering-in-her-seat thing that she does.

“Stand Back,” Said the Elephant, “I’m Going to Sneeze!” by Patricia Thomas, illustrated by Wallace Tripp. Good luck finding this one: it’s long out of print. Ours is Scott’s old Weekly Reader Book Club copy.

—OH!!!!!!!! JUST THOUGHT OF A MEME!!! Let’s do our favorite Weekly Reader books! I’ll move this to a separate post and do a Mr. Linky for it. Just the words “Weekly Reader” evoke such powerful memories for me. Dr. Boox, Sprout, Christina Katerina…OK, yes. Stay tuned.

Back to Stand Back, what a fun read. The elephant is going to sneeze, and all the animals are distressed; the last sneeze wreaked such havoc. The zebra lost his stripes, the alligator’s snout turned inside out, the giraffe folded in half…disaster all around, on this strange savannah where there are both alligators and crocodiles, and North American bears from the looks of it. Delightfully rhyming text. The whole book reminds me a bit of Johnny Crow’s Garden in tone and whimsy. Very glad Scott claimed it from his family’s bookcase.

Well, this only takes us back about two days, but it’s enough for now. I might come back later and add book cover illustrations if time permits.

Picture Book Spotlight: Let’s Do Nothing

June 10, 2009 @ 8:08 pm | Filed under: ,

donothing

Let’s Do Nothing by Tony Fucile (Candlewick, 2009).

On July 24th, many unschoolers (and others) will celebrate “Learn Nothing Day.” It’s a tongue-in-cheek sort of holiday, the point being that it’s impossible to live a day of your life without learning something.

Well, I’ve just found the perfect picture book to read on Learn Nothing Day. Except, darn it, what if we learn something from the book?

Ah, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be able to wait until July to share this with my gang, anyway.

Frankie and Sal are two small boys of the very busy sort. They’ve done it all—played all the games there are to play, baked all the cookies, read all the comic books. In a quest for something new to do, they hit upon the notion of doing nothing at all. Nothing. “Zero movement. NOTHING.”

Good luck with that, fellas.

Sal gets off to a strong start, suggesting they sit still as the stone statues in the park. Frankie’s game, but…statues attract pigeons, don’t they? Who can do nothing when there are pigeons to shoo?

I love it when a book actually makes me giggle out loud. Frankie’s expressions are priceless, especially when he’s being a giant redwood or the Empire State Building. Writer/illustrator Tony Fucile has a gift for visual punchline—which stands to reason, considering his background; Fucile is an animator whose credits include such films as The Incredibles, Ratatouille, The Iron Giant, and The Lion King.

Well, in the end the boys discover it’s as impossible to DO NOTHING as it is to LEARN NOTHING. So I take it back. I don’t recommend reading this book for Learn Nothing Day after all—just like Frankie and Sal, you might accidentally learn something from the experience.

The Real Baby Doesn’t Like That

March 29, 2009 @ 1:41 pm | Filed under: ,

daisybabyThe answer to another of our bookquotes: Daisy Thinks She’s a Baby by Lisa Kopper.

Is this book still in print? Shoot, I just looked it up and it isn’t. Gahhh! This always happens. We love this book to pieces—almost literally; after thirteen years of heavy use by five children (so far—Huck isn’t quite there yet), our copy of this absolute peach of a book is looking a bit loveworn—and I go to rave about it on the blog and then I find out it isn’t in print anymore and used copies are selling for almost thirty bucks on Amazon.

Sigh.

Okay, libraries then: that’s your best hope, and yard sales. If you have very young children, especially in the two-to-four-year-old range, this is one of those perfect picture books you can read over and over and over (and you’ll have to) without getting sick of it or skipping half the words and incurring the Wrath of Toddler. It’s sweet, simple, funny, endearing.

Daisy’s the family dog, and clearly she’s one of those dogs who thinks she’s a people. She rides in the stroller; “the real baby doesn’t like that.” Daisy eats in the high chair; the real baby is not amused. The real baby, in fact, takes a dim view of all of Daisy’s antics—until finally Daisy does something not at all baby-like, something very special and properly doggish, and the real baby likes THAT very much indeed.

The colored-pencil illustrations are charming and full of quiet comedy. The real baby’s grumpy expressions are right on the money. Every one of my children has loved the comfortably simple and repetitive text. And after more than a decade in the company of Daisy and Baby, we find ourselves referring to the baby’s opinions all the time. Mommy says butter must be spread with a knife instead of scooped up with fingers? The real baby doesn’t like that. Big sister points out that we mustn’t lick our little brother’s head? The real baby doesn’t like that. Daddy scoops up a child for a ticklefest? The real baby LOVES that!

This Year’s Daddy-Books

December 29, 2008 @ 3:16 pm | Filed under: ,

Every Christmas (birthdays, too) Scott gives each child one special picture book. Yes, our older girls are well past picture-book age by now—except that you’re never past picture-book age, not really. I’m certainly not. And this is a treasured family tradition; it’s always great fun to see what gems he comes up with.

His picks for Christmas, 2008:

Rilla: an oldie but one of the best. Caps for Sale by Esphyr Slobodkina. Our dog-eared paperback copy was recently destroyed in that little bit of flooding we had on my birthday. Scott replaced it with a hardcover, because Rilla is ripe for that time-honored, giggle-inducing refrain of “You monkeys you, you give me back my caps!”

Wonderboy: a Boynton book called Fifteen Animals! (Most of which are named Bob.) A perfect choice for our little guy, who loves rhythm, repitition, and all things Boynton.

Beanie: Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale by the fabulous Mo Willems. This would have been a fine choice for any of our brood, but Scott singled it out for our belly-laughing Bean, and belly-laugh she did. We all loved the Caldicott honor-winning combination of black-and-white photo backgrounds and whimsical Willems art, and poor little Trixie’s desperate attempts to communicate the disappearance of her beloved bunny to her father are utterly priceless. A slam-dunk, daddy dear.

Rose: A Visitor for Bear by Bonny Becker, illustrated by Kady MacDonald Denton. This was one of the Cybils nominees, and when I read the library copy, I knew it was a keeper. Sweet, funny story about a rather curmudgeonly bear who, despite his best efforts, finds himself playing host to a persistent and amiable mouse. I showed it to Scott, who instantly pegged it as a perfect Rose book. Endearing art, charming story.

Jane: Diary of a Fly by Doreen Cronin and Harry Bliss. Various children have been given its companion books, Diary of a Worm and Diary of a Spider, in years past. I believe Scott said he chose this one for Jane because of the line about the young fly being relieved to discover that he’s not the only kid at school who likes regurgitated food. (Cue satisfying shriek from thirteen-year-old.)

Of course our Christmas book bounty didn’t end with the Daddy-books, but the rest of the treasures must wait for another post.

(A note about the links here: I stopped including Amazon links in my posts a long while back, for various angsty reasons of my own. However, a recent Kidlitosphere discussion alerted me to the copyright question involved with using book cover images from Amazon and not linking to that site, so in this post I have returned to my old practice of including the Amazon link. Since I have an affiliate account, any purchases made from a clickthrough here will earn me a small referral fee. Wanted to be very up-front with that info! In years past, such referrals helped pay for the maintenance of this site. For that, I thank you!)

Picture Book Spotlight: Jumpy Jack & Googily

November 11, 2008 @ 8:41 am | Filed under: , ,

Jumpy Jack and Googily by Meg Rosoff and Sophie Blackall. Henry Holt & Co.

What a charmer this picture book is. Scores very high on the giggle-meter with my gang. Jumpy Jack is a snail of the most nervous sort. As lovably neurotic anthropo-morphizations go, Jack’s right up there with Piglet, friend of Pooh. Fortunately, Jumpy Jack has his best friend Googily to put his mind to rest when the monster-worries creep in. Jack fears monsters are lurking at every turn—monsters with big round eyes and sharp teeth and lolling tongues and possibly even creepy bowler hats. Googily—he’s the amiable fellow in blue you see there—is a little puzzled by Jack’s boogieman complex, but he’s always happy to help soothe his pal’s fears by taking a peek into the corners Jack’s sure are hiding fearsome monsters.

In the end, we find that Googily has a fear of his own—and apparently with better reason than Jumpy Jack! The surprise ending elicited belly laughs from my seven- and two-year-olds.

I really love this sweet and simple picture book. It’s fresh and funny, and the art is enchanting, and the text holds up well to numerous re-readings, which is a quality I very much watch for in a young picture book. If I’m going to have to read it aloud five times a day, it’s got to be readable.

But beyond that, I appreciate the way the plot plays with the idea that people can create monsters in their minds, terrifying specters composed of stereotypes, while being oblivious to the fact that the generalizations they are throwing around so carelessly might very well include real people they know and love.

Picture Book Spotlight: Grace for President

November 4, 2008 @ 8:06 am | Filed under: , ,

Grace for President by Kelly DiPucchio, illustrated by LeUyen Pham. Hyperion.

We pulled this from our Cybils to-be-read stack yesterday because of the title, and I wish I’d read it a little sooner so I could have shared it with you in time for you to hit the library before Election Day. Grace for President is an appealing story about young Grace’s presidential race—in which votes are counted Electoral College-style. The book offers a simple and easy-to-understand look at the Electoral College in action.

The race begins when Grace learns, to her astonishment, that there has never been a “girl president.” Her classmates snicker when she declares that she shall be the first, but her teacher takes her seriously and suggests a campaign for class president. Two classes, actually: her opponent is a charismatic boy from the room next door.

Their campaign is lively and, paralleling real life, somewhat all-consuming for a time. As voting day approaches, it becomes clear that the boys have an edge on the electoral map, and Grace’s rival, Thomas, seems assured of victory…but could it be that the young man representing Wyoming is a swing state?

All three of my big girls enjoyed the book—Jane and Rose for its look at how the Electoral College works, Beanie for the fun story and the charming art, especially the surprise addition to Mount Rushmore at the end.

It’s Not My Turn to Look for Grandma

August 25, 2008 @ 6:34 am | Filed under: ,

Is that not the best title ever? I originally posted this picture book review in February, 2005. I’m reposting it now because this book is no longer in print, and I want you to grab it if you ever spot it in a library sale. (I believe you can still get it through the author’s website, too, and there’s even a version on CD which includes other stories and music. Note to self: remember this at Christmastime.)

It’s Not My Turn to Look for Grandma by April Halprin Wayland, illustrated by George Booth. George Booth!

Grandma3Dawn was just cracking over the hills. Ma was splitting kindling on the back porch.

“Woolie!” she called out. “Where in the hickory stick is Grandma?”

“Dunno,” said Woolie. “It’s not my turn to look for Grandma!”

I’ve been reading this book to my kids for eight or nine eleven or twelve years, and it still makes us all giggle. April Halprin Wayland (author of another of our family favorites, the quiet and lovely To Rabbittown), depicts this quirky backwoods family with wit and warmth, and George Booth’s illustrations are a hoot. Ma, a hardworking backwoods mother, needs Grandma’s help and keeps sending the kids to fetch her—but Grandma’s too busy sliding down the haystack with her dirty old dog, or doing something similarly outlandish. She’s never too busy, however, for a banjo band…

The rollicking text is a joy to read aloud. The writing is fresh and lively, and the characters are pure originals—especially that dirty old dog and a pair of disreputable porcupines. George Booth’s art, which would be hilarious even without the words, captures them perfectly. If I had to narrow down our picture book collection to ten titles (horrific thought!), this one would make the cut for its never-fail ability to invoke the belly-laughs I love.