When winter comes, book-loving Bunny can no longer eavesdrop on the library’s outdoor story time. To feed his insatiable need for books, Bunny squeezes through the book-return drop at the library. When Bunny’s secreted stash of books starts a trend, several critter friends become regulars at the book drop—until they are discovered by the librarian. But if anybody understands the need to read, wouldn’t it be a librarian?

Author Annie Silvestro and illustrator Tatjana Mai-Wyss tell a cozy tale guaranteed to draw in readers and book lovers of all ages. Every page bursts with details, which will keep little eyes amused. Moths flutter in the beam of the flashlight, Bunny’s bunny slippers wait next to his bed, and carrot cupcakes are a burrow staple. Fabrics and books and woodland flora are elaborately sketched, creating a realistic, familiar world. Silvestro’s text is full of alliteration and description, and the forest creature dialogue rings with kid-friendly humor.

Bunny’s Book Club will prove worthy of story times large and small.

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

Captain Alfred, farmer and small-ship captain, sets sail with a happy heart, his fiddle to brighten the journey and one special duck egg aboard. As you might predict, his trip is interrupted by an enormous and terrible storm, casting the captain and his ducks to sea. His beloved fiddle is lost to the waves, and all that remains is the egg—now hatching—in the fiddle case. Alfred Fiddleduckling is born into a solitary, foggy world. When the fiddle floats by, Alfred Fiddleduckling discovers the sound of friendship and hope as he clings to his new friend. He found music; will anybody find him?

Timothy Basil Ering (illustrator of The Tale of Despereaux) has a knack for expressively illustrated, slightly bizarre tales with endearing characters and deep messages. Like The Story of Frog Belly Rat Bone, Alfred Fiddleduckling’s tale is quirky and charming, and guaranteed to become a favorite.

With art that is both ethereal and tangible, Ering knows exactly what each scene needs and how to pull a reader’s focus.The stunningly fierce storm engulfs the reader with lightning, as Ering’s hurried brush strokes are visible and powerful in the whitecaps. Colorful, vague swirls depict music in the air, light and feathery against the fog. Captain Alfred’s wife’s anxiously clasped hands tell us of her long, fearful wait for her husband. While his illustrations stand alone, Ering’s narration adds a layer of emotion and personification that makes this book feel like a fable. Detailed and descriptive, one could imagine retelling this story—sans pictures—by the fireplace.

By the time Alfred Fiddleduckling’s story closes, readers will be enchanted by this tale of friendship and adventure, of compassion and courage. But what remains after the last page is the beautiful, swirling music, heartening and calming, beckoning us home again.

In this tender story, author-illustrator Matthew Cordell doesn’t waste any time or space to spin the tale of two lost creatures and an act of kindness. Before we even get to the title page, we meet a girl and a wolf cub, as well as their families.

As the girl heads home at the end of the school day, the snow is falling hard. She’s well equipped in her big, red coat, but the windy weather weighs her down on her walk to her warm house where her parents wait. In a parallel story, we see a group of wolves head out, yet the youngest of the pack falls behind. On one spread, two large spot illustrations show the weary young girl and the lost and confused wolf cub, each slowed down by the snow.

Eventually, they meet, and both are frightened. But the girl immediately reaches out to help, hearing the wolf’s family howling in the distance. Bravely, she ventures toward them in order to return their cub, facing her fair share of dangers along the way. In another spread with two large circular spot illustrations, we see the girl, wolf cub in her arms and her eyes wide with fear, face off with a parent wolf. The girl releases the cub, and the parent takes the baby away. On her tired journey home, she collapses in the snow, and in a kindness returned, the wolves surround her, howling her location to the search party. Cordell wraps up the story by showing the girl safe and warm in her home.

The pacing here is spot-on, the tension building with each page turn. In these nearly wordless spreads (we are only privy to such things as howls, barks, huffs and whines), Cordell builds great sympathy for both creatures, and he conveys more about the girl’s courage with body language, tone and color than any lengthy text could. The illustration showing the happy reunited human family in the snow, as well as the howling wolf pack atop the hill above them, is heartwarming and emotionally rewarding.

This one’s a keeper. 

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

Egg begins, as you might expect, with four brightly colored eggs. Three eggs hatch, and three brightly colored baby birds emerge: pink, yellow and blue. The fourth egg, of a reptilian-green shade, is in less of a hurry. The eager baby birds help their sibling along, their beaks eventually breaking the shell. But what emerges is slightly less than feathery and fluttery . . . and slightly more green and crawly. We begin with four eggs; will we end with four friends?

Deceptively simple (a trademark of Kevin Henkes), Egg proves entertaining and useful on multiple levels. Henkes’ characters stand out against a plain-white background, which focuses attention on their expressions. A talented illustrator, Henkes is able to convey facial expression and emotions with very few lines. Egg has minimal text, which allows readers to ad-lib, while repetition of simple words helps new readers practice sight words and phonics. Counting and colors will amuse the tiniest readers, while one page provides a very early look at synonyms. And, as with many of Henkes’ books, there is an underlying theme—albeit very simple—of acceptance and friendship and bravery.

Henkes is the recipient of both the Caldecott and Newbery Honors, with the rare ability to write across age groups. His longer stories (Chrysanthemum, Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse) are classics for young readers. His calm, boldly illustrated stories like Kitten’s First Full Moon are perfect bedtime tales.

Whether you read every word and name the birds, look at the pictures or make up your own tale, Henkes’ Egg is a delightful addition to any bookshelf.

Henri is just a little caterpillar, a role that comes with its own set of limitations. He moves slowly and is unlikely to ever see much of the world beyond the garden gate. Regardless, he dreams big and longs for adventure.

His friends discourage him. They like having Henri around, safe and sound. Slug is particularly negative, questioning the seriousness of Henri’s desire for travel. “Sounds exhausting,” Slug says.

But Henri is determined, and his friend Toad understands the importance of chasing one’s dreams. New friends come to his aid, as Bird gladly helps him over the garden wall. Mole and Henri tunnel beneath the busy road, and Fish carries him across the lake. Henri has traveled far, and when he spots a giant hot air balloon, he knows his great adventure is about to begin.

Sadly, before Henri can wiggle to the top of the balloon and see the whole wide world, something happens and he is stuck, sadly stuck, inside a cocoon. His adventure will never happen now, or will it? Something changes while he sleeps in the warm, dark place, and Henri awakens with wings! Yet with the whole world open to him, he flies back to the best place of all—his garden home.

Each page of Clive McFarland’s Caterpillar Dreams delights readers with a colorful collage of images. Little Henri has personality to spare, and preschoolers and their parents will enjoy taking a romp with this bright-eyed, determined caterpillar.

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

A Greyhound, a Groundhog opens with a swirly gray oval that, on the next page, transforms itself into “A hound. A round hound. A greyhound.” A similarly oblong hole soon reveals “A hog. A round hog. A groundhog.” The lithe greyhound and the chubby groundhog stretch—and we’re off! Emily Jenkins’ rhythmic text accompanies Chris Appelhans’ whirling illustrations as these two surprising playmates engage in a spirited romp “around and around and around and around” in a pastel-hued meadow. They pause to marvel at a new discovery, only to take up the chase once more.

Jenkins’ dedication credits Ruth Knauss’ A Very Special House for the text’s inspiration and rhythmic feel. The playful, circular repetition also may remind readers of the modern classic Orange Pear Apple Bear by Emily Gravett. Appelhans’ joyful watercolor and pencil illustrations perfectly capture the motion and freedom of the chase, as near-abstract shapes convey the pair’s speed. The carefully controlled palette, in shades of gray, brown, pink and purple, reflects the similarly restrained vocabulary, perfect for young listeners and brand-new readers.

Words and pictures turn around one another, much like the two animal friends whose antics they capture so delightfully.

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

It may be only January, but at year’s end, we’ll look back on this picture book as one of 2017’s funniest.

On the book’s title page spread, we see an ox traipsing along, sniffing a rose, and in the sky the clouds form the dramatic image of a graceful gazelle. Yep, Ox is smitten. Thus this epistolary story begins. Ox sits in his bedroom, an image of the beautiful gazelle on his wall, and writes his first letter, declaring his love for her in no uncertain terms. The entire book consists of their correspondence brought to life in Scott Campbell’s earth-toned, relaxed-line illustrations, though the gazelle’s first two letters—because she is such a stah, dahling—are impersonal form letters. Ox, however, doesn’t seem to notice: “This is an amazing coincidence! I have written you two letters, and both times you have written back using the exact same words!”

There’s so much humor here, all of it in Adam Rex’s trademark gloriously understated style. When Gazelle writes (clearly fishing for compliments) that she has many faults, Ox naively responds that she really has only one or two. When she scolds him, he responds with heartfelt thanks, calling her the “unflattering light of my life.” His intentions may be sincere, but he unknowingly stumbles with his words and she becomes exasperated. Love conquers all, though—even narcissism. Gazelle falls for Ox in a deliciously mysterious open ending, in the form of an unfinished letter. The final endpapers show the happy couple in a series of spot illustrations.

This is a book to fall in love with.

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

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