Julie Danielson

Ultrabot is a massive, several-stories-tall robot who lives on Primrose Lane with its professor. An aerial view of the street in the book’s opening illustration proves that their warehouse of a home is an anomaly in the suburban neighborhood in which it sits, but author-illustrator Josh Schneider keeps the humor understated. For one, when Ultrabot learns from the professor that Becky Tingle from next door is coming over for a playdate, no one bats an eye—except for Ultrabot. “NEGATIVE,” it says.

Just like a human child, the robot is nervous that it may not be compatible with a new playmate. But things go swimmingly, and a friendship is forged. The book’s charms lie in its dry humor (and the use of a font called Joystick, used sparingly to render Ultrabot’s words), as well as the juxtaposition of words and images. “Becky showed Ultrabot how to draw a cat,” we read. While she does so on a human-size canvas, we see in a small insert on the recto that Ultrabot is capable of drawing a cat on nothing less than the surface of the moon, thanks to a powerful laser at his command. When Ultrabot decides it is “safe to share its toys with Becky,” we see that, as it jets through the upper atmosphere, Becky is nearby in a small plane, piloting it herself with a look of elation.

Ultrabot may be metal and larger than life, but its apprehension over making friends—and its happiness in having succeeded at doing so—is as human as ever.

Julie Danielson conducts interviews and features of authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog primarily focused on illustration and picture books.

Colors pop and the imagination soars in How to Read a Book, a set of instructions and a delicious ode to the pleasures of reading from bestselling author and Newbery Medalist Kwame Alexander.

Likening a book to a clementine, he suggests that young readers “peel its gentle skin” and let the story unfurl. With language that beguiles each of the five senses, Alexander playfully and reverently pays tribute not only to books themselves but also to the magic of reading and its ability to give our souls “room to bloom.” Caldecott Honoree Melissa Sweet renders the illustrations via mixed-media collages that include handmade papers, found objects, excerpts from Felix Salten’s Bambi: A Life in the Woods and even a lid from a paint can. Sweet’s distinctive hand-lettered text, which itself becomes another part of the artwork, is a perfect complement to Alexander’s prose. 

A gatefold spread appearing at the midway point features shades of brilliant orange and opens into a book that has morphed into a three-decker bus with 18 windows. Alexander urges readers not to rush through their books (eyes need “time to taste,” after all), and once they set their sights on this visual feast, they’ll know exactly what he means.

“(You never reach) The End,” he writes at the book’s close. This is good news for readers who will want to head right back to the beginning and soak in this lovingly rendered testimonial more than once.

In his expansive picture book tribute, You Are Home: An Ode to the National Parks, Ezra Jack Keats Award-winning author-illustrator Evan Turk (The Storyteller) honors “the beauty, the monumental history, and the togetherness with loved ones and nature” that constitute visits to the national parks of the United States.

Via full-bleed spreads that include labels of each landscape depicted, spare free verse written in the second person and cinematic, richly colored pastel artwork, we traverse the country, visiting the Rocky Mountains, the Grand Canyon, the Great Smoky Mountains and more. Turk’s magnificent, lush illustrations, with deft use of light and shadow, depict not only grandiose mountains and vistas (Yosemite appears in a stunning double-gatefold spread) but also the creatures therein (a bobcat in Yosemite, fireflies in the Smokies) and the families who visit. The “you” of the title, a repeated refrain throughout the book, refers to park visitors but also to the herds of elk, wildflowers “painting the warming hillsides” and “every river, star, and stone.”

In a spread paying tribute to the indigenous peoples of North America, Turk acknowledges that their ancestors “lived on these lands before the stars and stripes took them as their own,” pointedly adding that these people are “still home.” Detailed backmatter, which includes a map of the parks and more information about them, delves further into the fact that many Native American nations were forcibly removed from their homelands in order to create the parks we visit today. It all adds up to an informative and breathtaking exploration of U.S. national parks.

In Hayley Barrett’s Babymoon, a new mother and father shut out the world in more ways than one (“SEE YOU SOON,” a sign on their front door declares) and delight in the newborn addition to their young family. In rhyming text that is marked by tenderness and flows as smooth as a lullaby, Barrett describes the delicate “dance of give-and-take” that is acclimating to a new baby. Her phrasing captures the boot camp that is early parenthood, marked as it is by fatigue and a “tentative and awkward grace”—but also by abundant love.

Newly-minted Caldecott honoree Juana Martinez-Neal depicts a brown-skinned family, the parents spelling out “Mami” and “Daddy” in board game tiles as they adjust to these “brand-new names.” She doesn’t shy from showing the parents’ fatigue. The mother gives her body over to the child as shown in one eloquent breastfeeding spread, yet she never lets the exhaustion trump the joy.

There are a lot of comforting curves in Martinez-Neal’s sure and gentle lines and velvety-soft illustrations. All the circles, including the one the family of three forms on the cover as the parents shelter the baby, communicate wholeness, commitment and love. Martinez-Neal also adds subtle humor to many spreads in the form of a dog and cat, who look warily at the babe who temporarily displaced them.

With heartfelt honesty, both Barrett and Martinez-Neal refrain from painting a saccharine portrait of new parenthood, and toddlers old enough to sit and listen to this story will delight in considering the ways in which their parents cared for them during their first years.

Julie Danielson conducts interviews and features of authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children's literature blog primarily focused on illustration and picture books.

In a larger, bold font on the opening spread of Laura Purdie Salas’ engaging, informative piece of nonfiction, Snowman – Cold = Puddle, we read that “science + poetry = surprise!” This captures well what this exploration of spring has to offer—facts about the season coupled with short, math-like poems.

Divided into three sections—Early, Mid and Late Spring—we are treated to two poems on each spread. “Warmth + light = alarm clock” is followed by text explaining that hibernating animals wake when spring arrives. Salas surprises readers with some lengthier, more thought-provoking formulas: “Maple trees x buckets + boiling = sticky smile,” we read on the page showing a young boy enjoying pancakes, post sap collection.

There is a playful nature to many of these formulas/poems: “BIG beaver + BIG beaver = little beaver,” one poem reads, while another adds seven instances of “goose” to “sky,” and the words on the page in the form of an arrow. Metaphors are also used to great effect. Scout honeybees, diving in and out of their hive, are likened to airports; frogs at night make up a “symphony;” and “sky – day” (or night) equals ‘stories.’” These innovative poem-equations bring a new awareness and a refreshing way to look at nature.

Micha Archer’s highly textured and tactile illustrations, filled with mesmerizing patterns and vivid colors, show animals in nature, as well as children exploring in the wild. The book closes with an enticing question for readers, inviting them to explore: “You + the world = ? . . . That’s an equation only you can solve!”

Julie Danielson conducts interviews and features of authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children's literature blog primarily focused on illustration and picture books.

The end pages of author and illustrator Andrea Tsurumi’s new picture book Crab Cake give readers a hint of the gratifyingly offbeat nature of this story: we see jellyfish, floating deep in the ocean, with cakes at their centers. We are then launched into a detailed undersea world that is “home to many incredible creatures.” We see manta ray, scallop, pufferfish, moray eel and many other aquatic animals, and Crab is busy making cakes. Tsurumi plays up the understated humor in expressive cartoon-like illustrations complete with speech balloons for dialogue. Quiet, studious Crab is especially entertaining, always with a cake at the ready. In one very funny spread, an open-mouthed shark follows a line of four fish, and the puzzled fish in the front is greeted with a cupcake baked by Crab.

The tone shifts dramatically, accompanied by a slowly darkening palette, when one evening there is a “BIG SPLASH!” A barge unloads a massive pile of trash into the water, and in one stark, dark and wordless spread, we see the pile of junk up-close. The confounded sea creatures freeze, but Crab bakes another cake, thereby jolting them out of their shock and into action. After all, theirs is an abundant, busy world under the surface of the water, and they’d like to keep it that way. Working together, they lug the trash back up to a boat dock next to a sign that reads, “COME GET YOUR JUNK!” Cue the befuddled humans.

Crab Cake’s environmental message, though never heavy-handed, comes across loud and clear in this altogether entertaining and informative story of a community that bands together to make a difference.

Julie Danielson conducts interviews and features of authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children's literature blog primarily focused on illustration and picture books.

Debut author John Sullivan has based the story of his picture book, Kitten and the Night Watchman, on real events from his life. Dedicated to “all the strays,” this sweet narrative follows a kind night watchman who waves goodbye to his family as the sun sets and heads to a construction site to work alone under deep blue skies. But he has a friend at the work site—a small homeless kitten to whom he carefully tends.

Sullivan writes in short sentences and puts to use a string of evocative similes like “the full moon shines like an old friend,” and “garbage trucks line up like circus elephants.” TaeeunYoo illustrates the moonlit shadows of backhoes that look like insects and an excavator shaped like a giraffe. The angles of the buildings and construction equipment are expertly juxtaposed with the round, soft curves of the kitten and the watchman, and Yoo’s use of light—from the moon, lamps, the man’s flashlight, etc.—is particularly effective in the dark palette.

In one moment, readers see the watchman resting at work, thinking of “his boy and girl, safe and asleep at home.” This offers young readers a glimpse into the ways in which their caretakers keep their safety in mind, even when apart from them.

At the end of Kitten and the Night Watchman, readers are introduced to a happy family who greets the watchman when he returns home with his new pet. Don’t miss the chance to share this tender story with a child in your life.