After reluctantly turning the final page of the beautifully illustrated Up, Up, Ever Up! Junko Tabei: A Life in the Mountains, readers will want to run outside and start hiking, pausing only to spread the word about the impressive woman at the heart of Anita Yasuda’s inspiring and poetic biography for young readers.

As a young child, Junko Tabei was enchanted by the natural world, especially the peaks that provided a dramatic backdrop to her home in Japan. As Yasuda writes, “Stories of mountains drifted all around her until silvery domes and icy peaks unfurled as far as she could see.” 

Tabei took the first step of her big mountain dreams at age 10 by climbing Mount Chausu (elevation: 4,643 feet) with friends. As she grew, so did her desire to ascend ever higher: She set her sights on becoming the first woman to summit Mount Everest (elevation: 29,032 feet). Naysayers emerged all around, from mountaineering clubs that excluded women, to sponsors who said mothers should stay home with their children. But Tabei found kindred spirits in her climbing aficionado husband and two children, as well as other adventurous women who shared her determination. Together, they felt unstoppable. 

Despite dizzying heights, gear that fit badly  because it was made for men, and even an avalanche, Tabei and her compatriots persisted. This exciting story of scaling great heights and blazing trails captures their trials and triumphs for those who will come after. Yuko Shimizu’s gorgeous, often fantastical illustrations—finely detailed via Japanese calligraphy brush, vibrantly colored, and rife with movement and texture—combine with Yasuda’s compelling, uplifting words to vividly convey Tabei’s indomitable spirit.

In the book’s back matter, Yasuda notes the numerous high points of Tabei’s life and expands on her environmental advocacy, a pursuit she engaged in until her death in 2016 at age 77. Readers of Up, Up, Ever Up! will surely agree that “Junko’s remarkable life inspires others to pursue their dreams, step by step, up, up, and ever up!”

For most of us, it is easy to take education for granted: Slogging our way from kindergarten to graduation is something we just have to do. They Call Me Teach: Lessons in Freedom, written by Lesa Cline-Ransome and illustrated by James E. Ransome, takes us back to a time before the Civil War, when education was denied to many. As Cline-Ransome explains in her author’s note, They Call Me Teach is just one representation of what happened all over the South as enslaved Black Americans defied anti-literacy laws—an act that was both rebellion in itself and a part of their larger quest for freedom.

Cline-Ransome’s story focuses on Teach, an enslaved man given this whispered name by those he has taught to read. Written as if Teach is just matter-of-factly telling you about his day, the first-person narration is effortless and beautifully descriptive. Phrases like “a kitchen hotter than August” place you squarely in Teach’s world. There’s an easy storytelling cadence to this book that nearly—just nearly—hides its literary complexity, with lines that are simple yet weighed down with underlying meaning. 

Coretta Scott King Award-winner Ransome, the other half of this married duo, floods the page with deep, antique-feeling watercolors that instantly transport you back in time. Intricate details like a collection of wooden spoons, the shadows of folded clothes on a shelf and the frayed collar of Teach’s shirt pull you so far into the story, you could be standing in the back of the room. Impressive and engaging, They Call Me Teach is also somber—but not without rays of light and hope. Ransome’s art references that of the late illustrator Jerry Pinkney, whom he mentions in the dedication. Clearly, Ransome shares Pinkney’s gift for visual storytelling. 

They Call Me Teach is rich with information and opens a door to conversations about United States history, equality and the struggle for freedom and education. And while They Call Me Teach is geared toward children, older readers will find it just as powerful and moving. After all, when it comes to stories about perseverance, resistance and the power of reading, there is no age limit.

An ibex stands on a mountain, peacefully grazing, until they are challenged for “the top spot.” In response, the ibex asks, “But what are we even fighting for?” When the ibex receives an attack instead of an answer, they flee from the challenge. Fleeing does not solve problems, however—and it certainly doesn’t get them the top spot. 

A scraggly goat might hold the answers as to how to claim the strange prize. Can the ibex take the goat’s advice, return to the ibex herd and outwit the others? And even if they do, what does winning the top spot really mean?

Frank Weber’s new picture book The Top Spot offers wry commentary on exceptionalism: Why claim the top spot at all? 

Perfect for fans of We Are Definitely Human, The Top Spot explores the strength to be found in cunning over size, as well as how the things we fight over may, ultimately, be pointless. Sparse text lets the artwork shine, leading its unconventional jokes to hit all the harder, with unexpected payoffs as the book progresses. 

Existentialist humor combined with expressive illustrations and a muted, earthy palette makes this picture book one that readers of Jon Klassen will particularly enjoy. Children will be encouraged to examine why they might be competitive with their friends and what, in the end, it actually gets them. The answer might surprise.

Rene is a chef with a dream: to open a café that serves her carefully crafted “fine cuisine.” And after hard work saving up “every bean” and constructing “a building beam by beam,” she’s thrilled to be opening The Café at the Edge of the Woods.

In his picture book debut, London-based Mikey Please—a BAFTA award winner and Oscar nominee for animated short films—fills every page with expertly and engagingly rendered cartoon art. His color palette glows with browns, greens and oranges, perfect for a woodsy café overflowing with funky flower arrangements. 

To Rene’s chagrin, this charming eatery doesn’t make a splash right away. Her “Waiter Wanted” sign resulted in just one applicant, a little green fellow named Glumfoot. And although it’s been days since the grand opening, no customers have arrived. 

Fortunately, Glumfoot’s a go-getter. He heads into the woods and returns with a gigantic ogre, who listens politely as Rene reads him her hand-chalked blackboard menu. When she suggests truffle stew with peas and long grain rice, the ogre requests “bats! And slugs and buttered mice!” Would he prefer a cheddar tart? No, he wants “a bag of bats! That smells like fart!”

Rene is frustrated, but Glumfoot urges his boss to hang in there: The ogre will try the tart after all. Little does Rene know that, after some artful rearranging by Glumfoot (a master of marketing and diplomacy if ever there was one), the tart gets “flipped onto its back, so it looked like a pickled bat” and “The rice became . . . maggot fondue! The whole lot looked disgusting.” 

Of course, to the ogre, disgusting is delightful! And to Rene, serving the food she adores (even if it looks ickier than she planned) is a dream come true. The Café at the Edge of the Woods is a wacky and wonderful ode to ingenuity and flexibility, topped with a hearty serving of teamwork and a dash of panache. Fans of Please’s funny, expressive illustrations and clever storytelling will be happy to know a second book in this new series will be served up soon. Chef’s kiss!

School’s out and Jesus is itching to run outside and play, but wait—Mama has to watch her telenovela first. “When you’re an only child, with no brothers or sisters to play with,” he remarks, “you have to make your own fun.” To pass the time, he sweeps, dusts and eats “all the cereal we’re running low on. That way, we can start on the new box!”

When a stunned Mama encounters the chaos wrought by Jesus’ helpfulness, she conjures up an idea to keep him entertained so she can enjoy her afternoon TV: “What I really need is someone to look after my dear plantitas. . . . Someone who will be a big brother to these magnificent plants.” 

In 2023’s Papa’s Magical Water-Jug Clock, which received a Pura Belpré Honor for both writing and illustration, readers learned that Jesus is a sweet, spirited little boy who takes pride in helping his family. First, he assisted Papa with outdoor landscaping; now, in Mama’s Magnificent Dancing Plantitas, he’s excitedly dubbed himself indoor “Chief Plant Officer!”

Jesus takes his job seriously, and as he waters and chats with the greenery in his charge, he also shares his takes on them, including a “grumpy” sunglasses-wearing cactus and a Swiss cheese plant with holey leaves: “By the way, don’t eat them,” he warns. “They definitely don’t taste like cheese!”

When his attempt to cheer up a droopy golden pothos via impromptu dance party goes terribly awry, Jesus’ anxiety is hilariously illustrated by Eliza Kinkz in double-page spreads of soaring despair. He ponders his fate as a “murderer” and envisions a somber yet delightfully punny plant funeral. What will his parents think? Does Mama’s favorite plant have a chance at survival? 

Stand-up comedian and TV writer Jesus Trejo has created another warmly funny story that highlights the value of improvisational thinking, the beauty of a loving family and the joys of houseplants. Kinkz’s kinetic, colorful illustrations serve as a wonderful counterpoint to this winning treasure of a tale that reminds us that “breaking things is part of life. Sometimes, it’s even what helps us grow.”

This book about space, featuring words that will literally travel through space, is existentially brilliant. In Praise of Mystery is based on the eponymous poem by U.S. Poet Laureate Ada Limon that is inscribed on the Europa Clipper, a space probe bound for Jupiter’s moon, Europa. It’s an evocative and powerful tribute not only to Earth and space, but also to what brings us together and makes us dream.

There is no mistaking the artwork of Peter Sis, who has been a staple in the children’s book world since the 1980s. Sis often uses unique perspectives and a hint of the fantastical to tackle complex, profound topics, making him the perfect choice to illustrate a book like this one. In Praise of Mystery is like falling into a dream—vibrant and vast, joyful and curious. It is a blur of fantasy and reality: A single drop of rain carries a tree blossoming with life; the moon finds itself within the abstract shape of a whale. There are myriad references and tiny details that would take ages to fully explore and deconstruct. There’s even a nod to Van Gogh, in a subtle homage to our human need to capture the marvels we see. 

Readers can jump to the back of the book to find the full text of “In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa.” Limon’s alliteration, descriptions and precise language are flawless, and you’ll want to read the poem out loud multiple times to let the stunning words sink in. Limon writes of wondrous things above, below and within all of us; the poem is both immense and intimate and will leave you in awe. A brief author’s afterword also gives just enough tantalizing information to send you on a hunt to learn more about Jupiter and the Europa Clipper.

The Clipper will take approximately six years to reach Jupiter and its moons. Countless historical events will happen and countless new lives will be born while the poem travels to a place no human has ever been. For readers of all ages and from all walks of life, In Praise of Mystery is a chance to partake in a small piece of this wonder.