Jill Lorenzini

Sometimes the most incredible stories are the true ones, the stories passed through generations, eventually becoming legend. Rebecca Bond’s Out of the Woods, based on her grandfather’s childhood at Lake Gowganda in Ontario, Canada, is one of these.

Life in his mother’s hotel provided Antonio with myriad things to discover. Between days spent helping cook and stoke fires, and evenings spent listening to hotel guests make music and tell tales, Antonio’s life was happy and busy. But more than anything, Antonio was enthralled by the elusive animals of the forest. When a summer forest fire threatens Antonio’s home, the hotel’s inhabitants take refuge in the lake. But they aren’t alone in the water. Readers will share Antonio’s disbelief as the forest creatures—also fleeing the blaze—join them. Predator and prey alike quietly, peacefully share the lake. 

With a skillful artist’s hand and an eye for intriguing detail, Bond captures not only one remarkable event in 1914, but also an era. Hunters and loggers, tourists and miners fill the pages, along with near-forgotten trappings of their world: kerosene lamps and tobacco pipes, wood-burning stoves and travelers’ trunks. Bond’s stylized drawings do more than just evoke the setting and the time; her lines echo tree bark, the animals’ rough fur and thick wool blankets on beds. Bond tells the story simply but illustrates with the pride that comes with telling a story you’ve not just heard, but inherited.

A beautiful story in its own right, Out of the Woods rings with an honesty that will captivate readers of all ages. By passing along her grandfather’s tale, Bond reminds us that the most fascinating stories are those that really happened.

This article was originally published in the August 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Whether your younger sibling is on the way or is 30 years old, it’s never too early or too late for Little Miss, Big Sis. 

Little Miss is ready to be a fantastic big sis. She tackles the diapers and drool with enthusiasm, dinner and mini-disasters with panache. She becomes baby’s best cheerleader, fort-builder, tear-drier, playmate—truly a big sis.

With numerous best-selling titles to both of their names, Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Peter H. Reynolds have complementary styles that make their books stand out on the shelf—and in readers’ hearts. Rosenthal (Little Pea) makes the most of every word; her precise rhyming language imitates a young child’s speech pattern and keeps the message focused. Reynolds (Ish) is the master of charming, colorful sketches that entice the eye. While having a new baby in the house can be overwhelming, Reynolds’ skilled, kid-friendly illustrations present big changes in a cozy and approachable manner.

Little Miss, Big Sis is an excellent “big sibling” book for its simplicity and adorable, non-gushy sentiment. Being a big sis brings all kinds of excitement and adventure; it should also come with this book.

This article was originally published in the June 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Author-illustrator Emma Yarlett first caught my attention with her picture book Sidney, Stella, and the Moon, and now I can’t stop re-reading her newest offering, Orion and the Dark. One glance at the cover and my book-stuffed heart says, “Yay!” My instincts rarely fail, and neither does Yarlett.

Orion’s fears are myriad: dogs, deep water, monsters, plaid. But the most terrifying thing of all looms at the end of each day, hovering at the top of a steep climb up to Orion’s bed: the Dark. Despite his most creative solutions, bedtimes—and the Dark—are unavoidable. But delightfully, the Dark is less monstrous than Orion feared. Together, they explore and de-scary all the nighttime sounds and places, from closets and drains to ceiling fans and snoring.

Yarlett is the best kind of author-illustrator, incorporating exciting fonts into her whimsical images, pulling the reader in again and again. Her text is simple enough for young children, but clever asides will keep adults entertained. Quirky sketches and thought bubbles fill each colorful page to perfection. Best of all are two die-cut pages in which the Dark literally embraces Orion—and the reader’s imagination.

Night-shy children will find companionship in Orion and comfort in the Dark’s gentle, friendly appearance, while grown-up readers will invent excuses to keep this book on their own shelves.

This article was originally published in the April 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Slinking through the grass with panache, Duck believes he is a cat, just like his friend Cat. Or, at the very least, he will be when he grows up. But when Duck tries to follow Cat up a tree, his lack of claws (and general lack of catness) becomes sadly apparent. Trying to find a game they can play together, Cat accidentally jumps off the dock, lands in the water and is quickly transformed into a miserable, soaking mess. Duck has no claws and no cat ears, but his webbed feet may save the day.

Carin Bramsen’s masterful second book starring Duck and Cat, after Hey, Duck!, is the perfect mix of cute story and gentle lesson. Bright, welcoming illustrations—from the big blue sky, the sturdy red barn, even the softness of the fur and feathers—construct a friendly, comfortable world. Children are given permission to dream big while reinforcing the idea that we all have strengths and weaknesses.

Bramsen uses simple, rhyming dialogue to engage young listeners and to provide that soothing, rolling rhythm that is essential for nighttime and calm time. Duck and Cat’s words appear in different fonts, which is helpful when sharing read-aloud turns with beginning readers.

Two double-page spreads (Duck’s tree-climbing attempt and Cat’s water rescue) are completely wordless, which allows the reader full sound-effect interpretation and lets Bramsen’s illustrations stand alone. Duck’s sweet, wide-eyed expressions make these scenes truly charming.

Adorable baby animal stories are always hard to resist, but Just a Duck? ups its value with a lesson: The best of friends are made when each has a unique chance to shine.