When the tragic deaths of his parents leave a young boy named Harish alone to fend for himself and his sisters, he does what he knows how to do best—dance, like the female Rajasthani dancers he watches. But the Thar Desert, where he lives, is not a place where lines blur easily between what is expected of men and women.

Harish doesn’t feel at home inside that strict binary. Golden streaks of joy encircle him as he is captivated by musicians and dancers swaying across the screen. His feet tap, and his fingers sway—but only “quietly, so no one sees.” After donning a ghagra, a choli and bangles on his arms and ankles, the boy “is shiny and / glittery and / NEW.” Then the boy begins to dance and slowly, delightfully transform into a swirling goddess.

Desert Queen is based on the true story of Queen Harish (Harish Kumar), an Indian drag performer known as the “Whirling Desert Queen of Rajasthan.” It’s hard to know what is more praiseworthy in this picture book: Jyoti Rajan Gopal’s spare poetry, which lends itself to the rhythmic sway of the dance it celebrates; or Svabhu Kohli’s exquisitely detailed illustrations, which are rooted in Indian cultural heritage and as bold and daring as the subject they honor. The boy’s initial timidity is particularly striking against backdrops that are anything but quiet.

The story doesn’t shy away from the difficulties of Harish’s life: Jeers and taunts are depicted that cause shining tears to flow. But this grief is shown alongside joy, and readers will rejoice as Harish finds a space as “not  / Boy OR girl . . . But / fluid / flowing / like a dance / in between / and all around.” Together, Gopal and Kohli pay homage to a genderqueer hero who left the world far too quickly. Desert Queen is a fearlessly triumphant depiction of the wonder, magic and sparkle of dance.

At first glance, Do You Remember? seems to simply be a story of a mother and son sharing fond memories. But look closer and each memory deeply reveals a piece of their life together: the excitement of berry-picking at a picnic, the woes of learning to ride a bike, the tension and darkness of a rainstorm.

As in his previous Ezra Jack Keats Award-winning picture book Small in the City and the acclaimed I Talk Like A River written by Jordan Scott, author and illustrator Sydney Smith uses ethereal watercolors to enhance his lyrical text and beautifully bring each memory to life. The images and the memories themselves feel almost dreamlike as they evoke joy and thrills, anxiety and melancholy.

After the boy and mother take turns sharing memories, the boy somberly asks, “Do you remember . . . leaving our home behind? We packed up everything we own in our truck and drove down the highway, farther than we’d ever been.” “Of course I remember,” his mother replies.

The landscape changes from hills and hay bales and fields of wildflowers to cityscapes and traffic jams, and Smith’s illustrations subtly reveal changes not only in the environment but also in the family itself. We see through two beautiful, wordless spreads that the move they remember has only just taken place; this whole time the boy and his mother have been reminiscing upon their half-unpacked belongings.

As the sun rises, the boy decides their first morning in their new home can become a memory too. From the window, he sees his new street, smells the bakery across the road and hears the buses below. Although the first night has been hard, the magic of this first morning brings assurance that all will be well. “Yes,” he thinks, “I will remember this.”

Whether you have experienced a move, a change in your family or even just a stroll down memory lane, this nostalgic tale will find its way into your heart as it reminds us that our memories will guide us through the changes of life. Sydney Smith beautifully captures all the fear and hope that comes with change in this heartfelt picture book about remembering and starting anew.

With beautiful prose and engaging, colorful art, Every Dreaming Creature manages to be exciting and entertaining, yet ultimately calm and comforting. A child narrator dreams of experiencing how it feels to be a variety of animals, beginning with a salamander: “All the world was safe, snug spaces and a warm, wet blanket of decaying leaves. Secrets from the soil tickling my hands and soft belly.” The language describing each creature is sensory and evocative, while the art features bright, often close-up images, which range from varying sizes of spot art to spreads that stretch across the page. These size variations lend the images a certain sense of movement and mimic the barrage of images one might visualize while dreaming. Author and illustrator Brendan Wenzel’s website notes his “great affection for “all things furred, feathered, and scaly,” which shows in both this work and previous: He earned a Caldecott Honor for They All Saw a Cat.

Young readers will love guessing the next animal dream from clues in the text and art. For instance, a cloud above the elephant herd turns into a falcon. In dreamlike fashion, the animal appearances gradually speed up until an entire menagerie rapidly unfolds—a chameleon, a star-nosed mole, a hummingbird, sea turtles and more.

There’s a lovely, curvaceous fluidity to Wenzel’s art that ties each animal dream to another. He is a master colorist, whether when drawing a monarch butterfly so vivid you can practically see its wings flutter, or a prowling tiger jumping into a bright rainbow of a jungle with a giant paw so fluffy you can almost feel it. Throughout the intriguing mixture of animals and habitats, Wenzel uses eyes as a unifying theme and makes each pair a focal point that will draw in readers.

Variations of the refrain “until you came . . . and woke me from that dream” repeat until finally the child wakes up for real. Later, as the child slips “beneath the warm weight of a blanket,” readers are brought back to the salamander’s blanket of decaying leaves from the book’s beginning. Every Dreaming Creature is an eye-catching succession of nighttime visions that promotes a sense of empathy and admiration for the world’s many creatures.

A young unnamed Black boy wakes up on an ordinary school day with a smile on his face, eager to enjoy his favorite breakfast: “pan-fried bologna, homemade pancakes, strawberry jam.” He hugs his dog, endures a raucous school bus ride and settles in at school. But his unremarkable day is disrupted by insensitive, likely routine remarks from his classmates, who make assumptions and try to box him into prescriptive categories: “Can I touch your hair? . . . You don’t sound Black . . . Do you play basketball? . . . Where are you from?”

In I’m From, the protagonist is from all the things he loves: notebooks, caramel candy squares and late-night belly laughs. He feels most at home when he’s drawing pictures of himself and his dog as superheroes, and when he’s in the warm embrace of his family. Their gentle reminder about their shared traditions, hopes and aspirations give the boy a sense of purpose and belonging, which allows him to fall asleep warm and secure under “handcrafted blankets, knitted with memories.”

Illustrator Oge Mora depicts these blankets and the other illustrations with bold, warm colors and patterns. Her artwork—created with a mix of paint, collage, markers, airbrush and other media—echoes author Gary R. Gray Jr.’s heartfelt words. Harsh colors and shapes mirror the emotional impact of the classmates’ sharp words, but the words of affirmation from the boy’s family are set amid a culminating, joyful spiral of swirling purples and magentas that carry him as high as his imagination can reach. This buoyant story of everyday love and frustrations will comfort readers who just want to be valued for who they are.

Mole is not the sort of animal who likes big crowds. Mole’s idea of a fun time involves digging tunnels and working on construction projects. So when Mole gets invited to Rabbit’s birthday party, his anxiety spikes. For a critter used to spending time alone, a crowded party is going to be too much.

But supporting friends is more important than nerves, so Mole prepares Rabbit’s favorite dessert and heads to the party. However, Mole’s twisting journey through the tunnels is spent fretting, and when he finally arrives at Rabbit’s door, he is too nervous to knock. Then Skunk arrives, who isn’t a big fan of crowds either. Together, they build up the courage to knock on Rabbit’s door.

It’s not unusual for small children to fret about crowds, especially ones containing strangers. Maya Tatsukawa’s Mole Is Not Alone will help shy kids realize that they’re not alone. Mole’s anxieties around sharing space with so many other animals—even those considered friends—are clearly conveyed through text written entirely as speech bubbles from Mole.

Created through a combination of stencils, stamps, paint and digital illustration, Tatsukawa’s charming art includes many small details that will allow children to pore over each page in search of something new about their favorite animal characters. There’s even a two-page spread of a maze that readers can complete to help Mole move from one tunnel to the next.

Sweet and cozy—much like the cream puffs Mole makes—Mole Is Not Alone lends itself well to both storytime read-alouds and quiet snuggles before bed. Fans of Yeorim Yoon and Jian Kim’s It’s OK, Slow Lizard and Cori Doerrfeld’s The Rabbit Listened will want to add this to their shelves.

“Oh, Olive!” is something Olive hears a lot. Born to somber shape-painting artists, Olive stands out due to her colorful creations and exuberant personality. Olive has no qualms about painting on anything—or anyone—and doggedly paints how SHE wants to paint, refusing to create the stolid shapes requested by her parents and teachers. Will the rest of the world ever see the genius she knows she possesses? Perfect for classrooms, art rooms and bedtime, Oh, Olive! is a charming reminder to paint what is in your heart, because it takes all kinds of artists to make the world a more beautiful place.

Author and illustrator Lian Cho emulates her own protagonist by creating artwork that effortlessly conveys the story on its own. Oh, Olive! begins with an orderly little black-and-white town, rife with bustling details. It is perfectly amiable, perfectly pleasant . . . perfectly dull. Enter Olive and her flamboyant colors. One can sense Cho’s own glee in creating Olive’s work, which cannot be contained to Olive’s canvas. It speckles and spatters and erupts from the monotone backdrop in stunning fashion. Cho’s art throughout is clever and humorous, keeping the reader’s eye bouncing from scene to scene. Cho captures Olive’s resolute personality, from messy toddler finger painting to child artist curating shows for her stuffed animals. Keen-eyed readers will also notice the ever-present triangles, circles and squares reflected in the designs of the town and the characters themselves. The facial expressions of the townsfolk and especially Olive’s parents are hilarious.

Cho wisely keeps the narration straightforward, with a very subtle undercurrent of Olive’s subversion peeking through. There are many things to admire about this creative picture book: What particularly stands out is how Olive never wavers in her determination or enthusiasm. She keeps painting, knowing the world needs artists like her. For children who have ever felt like they don’t quite match up or fit in, Oh, Olive! will encourage them to paint on like Olive, because everyone has something special to give.

Grandpa is teaching Lulu and her dog, Dumpling, the art of drawing ancient Chinese characters. But when Grandpa dozes off, Lulu draws the character for door—which becomes a real portal to a fantastic adventure. It’s a good thing Lulu paid close attention to Grandpa’s lessons, because she is going to need her new skills to save the day. Written and illustrated by Hui Li, Scroll is a beautifully drawn, cleverly told tale of bravery and wit.

Artistically, Scroll is one of the most unique books on shelves today. Li uses a combination of multiple media on watercolor paper to create a soft, washed and welcoming backdrop. Lulu’s bright red overalls stand out against the muted environment of Lulu and Grandpa’s home, which is calm but full of detail. When Lulu and Dumpling go through the door into a magical village, Li’s art shifts from simply charming to mesmerizing. The village and its boats, houses, fish, nets and people are full of life and personality. But what makes the art truly remarkable is that each one is stunningly wrought from ancient Chinese characters. Little red boxes across the top of each page explain each character used, but this key is hardly needed since Li incorporates them in ways that make it easy to understand their meanings. Li’s style culminates in a dangerous battle scene that is one of the most unique and stunning bits of picture book art this reviewer has ever seen.

The narration is carried by simple and forthright dialogue as Lulu talks herself through each challenge, which helps the reader feel like part of the journey. Both the front and back matter give an intriguing peek into the rich history of Chinese language and culture, but ultimately, Li’s story is accessible even without any prior knowledge.

Scroll is deceptively modest, starting with its cover, which depicts a writing lesson that blossoms into one of the most unique stories of the year—one that is as educational as it is entertaining. As Lulu discovers, wonders await those who take a chance and dive in.

Devoted reader Hubert never imagined his trip to the library would lead to a real-life adventure. But when his reading time is cut short by a snowstorm, Hubert has no choice but to head out alone into the cold. After Hubert meets a kind friend, he’s not alone anymore . . . but there may be more than one voice in this hollow.

The Voice in the Hollow is both charming, mysterious and a tiny bit chilling—perfect for reading while a snowstorm blows outside. Seasoned author-illustrator Will Hillenbrand sets the tone with a pencil-drawn gatefold map of Hubert’s path, invoking other famous literary maps such as A.A. Milne’s comfortable, homey world or Tolkien’s fraught lands. It’s worth putting your nose a few inches from the page: The details—shipwrecks and lake monsters—are anachronistically delightful.

Hillenbrand keeps his narration concise and unembellished, telling us everything we need to know while letting his evocative and expansive art expound upon the rest. Hubert is instantly endearing; his love of books and sweet face is all we need to be pulled into his tale. And readers will want to pause a moment to appreciate the charm and humor of the “branch library,” with its books twirling enticingly from the tree’s limbs.

Once we get beyond the safety of the library, Hillenbrand’s art explodes. Blustery, blowing snow fills the pages with so much movement that readers will get the shivers watching little Hubert set off, head bent into the wind and clutching his book. The scenery is vast with rolling hills and towering trees. It would be easy for tiny Hubert’s imagination to get the best of him as he travels. Indeed, outlines of creatures appear in the landscape; some asleep, some mildly observant, others less benign. As picture books traditionally go, we know this will end well, but it’s an enjoyable, slightly anxious run to the finish.

While it’s easy to get swept away in the immense landscape and storm, take time to notice the captivating details on every page, such as Hubert’s tiny footprints in the snow or a streetlamp glowing warmly through the flurries. Hillenbrand’s illustration elevates this bedtime story into a work of art for all ages. Adults will also appreciate the moments of wry humor in the narration.

The Voice in the Hollow rings true with its depiction of being stranded during a snowstorm: feelings of uncertainty, peril . . . followed by the warmth and safety of finally returning home with a good story to share.