Julie Danielson

A mother sings her restless child to sleep, offering up a story from her own childhood to help ease the transition to bedtime. The mother is Nina Simone, talking about her own girlhood and the discrimination she faced as she came into her own and discovered her love of music.

The adult Nina, looking back, remembers a church performance at the age of 23, during which her proud mother was asked by white people to remove herself from the front row where she planned to watch her daughter perform. Author Alice Brière-Haquet uses a set of piano keys as a metaphor for the racial injustices of the time: “Black people were nothing but half notes on a huge ivory keyboard.” Later, the adult Nina tells her own child that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream of racial harmony helped turn the tide. Here, illustrator Bruno Liance brings readers black and white protesters with signs; young Nina herself holds one that reads, “Young, Gifted, and Black,” referencing her 1970 song that became an anthem of the Civil Rights movement.

Liance’s illustrations—soft-focus and hazy, just as memories are wont to be—are in black-and-white, matching the author’s sentiment: “Music has no color.” There are moments of great drama on several spreads. More than one features lush trees or flowers bursting forth in unexpected places (from a piano, from the bed of the child Nina is lulling to sleep). One features a lineup of white composers (Mozart, Liszt and the like), followed by young Nina, the only black person pictured, who “played all the important men in powdered wigs from past centuries.” A couple of spreads show a defiant Nina, pushing down her anger to sing to her dismissed mother in the crowd.

Stirring and powerful, the book can be an effective conversation starter with children about racial injustice.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

With precise, poetic language and rich colors, author Barbara Herkert and illustrator Lauren Castillo bring to life the legendary author E.B. White.

Readers first meet young Elwyn White at home, sick in bed. It is here he makes a mouse for a friend, eventually carrying him to the family’s horse barn. Young Elwyn loves animals. Herkert plants the seeds in these childhood moments for the famous children’s books Elwyn, who later becomes “Andy,” grows up to write: We see him as a boy, sitting in the barn with his friend, the mouse, staring up a spider’s “masterpiece” of a web.

Herkert spends most of the first half of the book focused on White as a child. He dreaded school yet learned to love writing. With vivid imagery and pleasing alliteration, she captures his idyllic childhood and budding love for language: “As Elwyn grew, he surveyed the summer stars. . . . He jotted his reflections in a journal.” In college, he begins his writing career in earnest, and soon after that is inspired to write Stuart Little while dreaming on a train ride. The last part of the book gives a fine-tune focus to his life with his wife and family at their home in Maine. Here, he writes Charlotte’s Web. Just as in his childhood, he “basked in the seasons, the peace of the barn, the beauty of the world.”

Castillo’s thickly outlined, textured mixed-media illustrations communicate much warmth, with deep reds and oranges and intimate pastoral scenes, whether it’s young Elwyn with his animal friends or elderly Andy in his barn, mesmerized by a spider in her web. In this beautiful spread, we see the silhouette of a pig pointing right to Andy and the spider, with the land, water and a setting sun right behind him.

Inspiring.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

There’s a lot to love about Peter Sís’ autobiographical picture book, an adventure story that pays tribute to the enduring imagination of children. Told from the point of view of Sís as a young boy, the story first draws readers into the grand, creative play of a group of friends. Peter and his four best buds love adventure, and they particularly love to engage in pirate play. When their school announces a costume party, they are sure they’ll all show up dressed as pirates.

But Peter’s mother has a better idea: She sews him a Robinson Crusoe costume. After all, he’s the hero of Peter’s favorite book. When all his friends point and laugh at his costume, Peter goes home and collapses into bed, where he has a detailed dream about sailing to and exploring an island. Here the story shifts dramatically to the boy’s solitary play. His friends may show up in his bedroom later to apologize, but it’s during Peter’s imaginative solo adventure that he finds healing and courage, making this story a tribute not only to Daniel Defoe’s classic novel but also to the resilience of children.

Sís’ palette is especially stunning. The illustrations expand to full-bleed spreads upon the boy’s arrival at the island, and the colors shift from primarily earth-toned hues to rich blues and greens. It’s simply gorgeous. “I feel stronger now and brave,” the boy thinks as he learns to survive on the mysterious island, with shadows lurking, animals appearing and flora and fauna flourishing.

Robinson is an unforgettable journey and a feast for the eyes.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

This article was originally published in the October 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

The title of this German import, translated by Sally-Ann Spencer, may be a play on the title of the classic absurdist theatre piece Waiting for Godot, but unlike the play, there’s nothing existentially mind-bending about this sweet, endearing story of two friends.

Antje Damm’s Waiting for Goliath tells the story of Bear, waiting patiently on a park bench for his buddy. Goliath is his best friend, and as he waits for him, Bear tells Robin, a bird in a nearby tree, all about how wonderful his friend is. Time passes—suddenly, Robin has a nest of baby birds—and she doubts that Bear’s friend is coming. But loyalty is the name of the game here: Bear has no doubts his friend will show.

Winter comes, and sometimes Bear even forgets he’s waiting. He eventually succumbs to sleep in the falling snow, right in front of the park bench. When he wakes, he hears a “faint noise like a hand sliding slowly across paper.” Goliath has arrived, and Goliath is a snail. True-blue friends wait patiently for one another after all, even when one friend’s arrival takes extra effort and time.

Damm’s 3-D paper vignette illustrations are textured and brightly colored with rich reds, vivid greens, deep browns and occasional bright blues. Children will enjoy the details that show time passing; the pacing here is just right. The art is especially empowering: Creative children may be inspired to cut up their own cardboard and pull out the paints to tell their own stories of friendship.

Waiting was never so fun.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

In Life, Newbery Medalist Cynthia Rylant brings readers a meditation on nature and the course of a life, one that begins tiny and blooms with an appreciation for the world at large.

“Life begins small,” the book opens, and then it grows. Both text and art introduce a baby elephant and its parent, exploring their world. There is a shift when Rylant suggests that any animal on earth could tell you what it loves about life, and illustrator Brendan Wenzel’s spread here is a delight. A group of animals from the wild looks directly at readers, as the focus pivots to creatures other than the elephants.

Midway through the book, Rylant transfers a bit of wisdom, looking to wild creatures as models of intuition, as beings on the planet who know that everything changes and there is always something to love and protect. Wild geese, after all, always know how to find their way back home, and Rylant suggests human readers consider the same. There may occasionally be a dark “stretch of wilderness,” but wild animals know best that each new day is still worth it just to see “what might happen” next. Those looking for grad gifts that are an alternative to Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go! would do well to consider Life.

In primarily earth-toned, full-bleed spreads, Wenzel varies his palette to match Rylant’s shifting, contemplative moods. The “life is not always easy” spread is stirring, showing a bright blue bird struggling in a vast, swirling storm. The landscapes, above and under water, are sweeping, bristling with movement and energy.

This one is full of life.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

For young children, moving to a new city can be lonely and anxiety inducing. That’s the case for the protagonist in Isabelle Arsenault’s new book, Colette’s Lost Pet. But she overcomes that with an assist from her bustling imagination, and it makes for a satisfying and entertaining read.

The story—laid out in panels of various shapes with dialogue in speech bubbles, making this a sort of picture book/graphic novel hybrid for young readers—opens with Colette’s mother telling her, “For the last time, NO PET!” All of this comes from indoors, where Colette and her mother stay hidden. Look closely in the yard (as readers get an aerial view) to see empty boxes littering the grass. This one drawing tells readers a great deal: The family’s just moved, and Colette would like a pet to help her acclimate to this huge adjustment.

Angrily, Colette steps outside in her yellow raincoat and meets two boys, who ask her what she’s doing. When she tells them she’s looking for her lost pet, the adventure begins. Clearly making up the story on the spot, Colette sets off with the two boys on a wild goose chase, looking for a pet parakeet that never existed. As they move through the neighborhood, five more kids join the chase, all the while Colette elaborating further about this pet.

Arsenault builds the text well, using internal rhymes to great effect. As each child joins the search, another child explains the creature they’re looking for, and the details grow. The parakeet becomes a massive and mythical sort of creature, and as Colette expounds further at one point, the children all see it fly over her head. Did it really make an appearance, or is it a wild collective imagination at work? It doesn’t really matter, as now they are all friends. Colette’s lonely days are over.

Arsenault’s drawings, in grays, blacks, yellows and a bit of light blue, are sweet but not saccharine, and the hand-lettered text is relaxed and inviting—much like the entire story.

Delightful.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.