Each generation creates new illustrations of our classics, just as every era re-translates the foreign masterpieces. Apparently, we require our own idiom.
The latest such re-envisioning is Helen Oxenbury’s sparkling new edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland for Candlewick Press. Since its publication in 1865, Alice has been interpreted by many illustrators. Lewis Carroll himself was first, but he wasn’t deemed competent to portray his imaginary world in the published book and its sequel. As a result, the volumes will forever be associated with the witty, stylized drawings of John Tenniel. But there have been other famous portrayals. Arthur Rackham’s scenes are as moody as a Grimm fairy tale; Ralph Steadman’s characters are needlessly grotesque; Barry Moser’s Humpty Dumpty resembles Richard Nixon.
Helen Oxenbury has joined the long tradition, but definitely given the book her own bright twist. The Rabbit and Dormouse are extremely rabbitty and mousey. With his pencil mustache, the overweight, slouching Hatter looks like Oliver Hardy on a bad day. Most important for drawing young readers into this challenging masterpiece, Oxenbury’s Alice looks like one of them. She is a modern-looking blond girl in a sleeveless blue dress and white sneakers and she has an appropriately feisty air. When the Red Queen rails at her, Alice stands with her hands on her hips and glares back. She leans on a table and gazes longingly at the stolen tarts. Following the tumble into the Pool of Tears, she looks drenched and convincingly shivery. Helen Oxenbury’s paintings and drawings have a fitting kind of playful innocence that some other versions lack, which will draw young readers. Particularly impressive is her take on some of the requisite bring-down-the-house numbers several pages of Alice shrinking and growing, double-page spreads of the tea party and the trial of the Knave of Hearts.
The volume is oversized, the typeface large and friendly, the margins generous. This beautiful book quietly takes Alice out of the inky hands of scholars and places her back in the hands of children, where she has always belonged.
Each generation creates new illustrations of our classics, just as every era re-translates the foreign masterpieces. Apparently, we require our own idiom.
The latest such re-envisioning is Helen Oxenbury's sparkling new edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland for Candlewick Press. Since its…
The range of graphic novels and nonfiction for children gets better, more exciting and more popular with each passing year. Even the choosiest young reader won’t be able to resist the charms of these wonderful books.
Marshmallow & Jordan
For the reader who carefully arranges their stuffed animals at the head of their bed every morning—and knows each and every one of their names
Growing up in Indonesia, Jordan is a talented basketball player who lives for the sport. She’s even named after her dad’s favorite player. After an accident two years ago, Jordan is also a paraplegic and uses a wheelchair. Although she’s still the captain of her school’s team, an official rule means she’s not allowed to participate in games against other teams. In spite of her teammates’ sincere efforts to make her feel included, it’s just not the same.
Jordan’s life changes when she discovers an injured young white elephant at a park one day after basketball practice. She names him Marshmallow and, with help from her veterinarian mom, nurses him back to health. Jordan and Marshmallow become fast friends, but it’s soon clear that the connection between them runs much deeper. Marshmallow obviously needs Jordan’s help, but as it turns out, Jordan needs Marshmallow too.
As Jordan leans on Marshmallow, he helps her begin to swim, and eventually she discovers a new athletic passion: water polo. But a worsening drought threatens the local water supply and the use of water for recreational purposes like swimming. Could there be a connection between Marshmallow and the much-needed rain?
Marshmallow & Jordan is a practically perfect graphic novel. Jordan’s strong spirit and earnest emotional vulnerabilities make her an appealing and relatable hero, and Marshmallow is irresistibly adorable as his big blue eyes shine with emotion. Lush and lovely, Alina Chau’s delicate watercolor illustrations are rendered in warm pastel tones. The book’s text is fairly minimal, so her images pull a great deal of the narrative weight, making this an ideal choice for young readers still gaining verbal confidence and fluency who would benefit from the unique interplay of words and images that graphic novels offer.
This beautifully rendered tale, with its fluffy, marshmallow-sweet images, is all heart.
—Sharon Verbeten
Another Kind
For the reader who has always felt a little out of place—except within the pages of a great book
Inside a hidden government-run facility called the Playroom, six creatures known as Irregularities are living out their childhoods quietly tucked away from society. There’s Omar, who’s half yeti; Sylvie, a will-o’-the-wisp; Newt, a lizard boy; Jaali, who can transform into a Nandi bear; Clarice, a selkie; and Maggie, who might be the daughter of Cthulhu. When the group’s secrecy is compromised and their safety endangered, government agents decide to move them to a more secure location.
Along the way, the powerful youngsters end up fending for themselves in a totally unfamiliar world filled with ordinary people who are totally unfamiliar with them. To survive, they must hide their unusual features and abilities—and avoid detection by dangerous forces that are hot on their trail. When the merry misfits meet other Irregularities and uncover rumors about a place called the Sanctuary, a place where they’ll all be safe, they’re determined to find it and make it their new home.
Trevor Bream’s narrative touches subtly on weighty themes, including gender identity, bullying and feelings of abandonment. At every turn, the story emphasizes the importance of self-acceptance and a sense of belonging within a community—empowering notions for young humans to consider.
Illustrator Cait May’s art is gorgeous. Just as Bream grounds their supernatural characters in emotional realism, May’s linework anchors this fantastical story in a detailed, realistic aesthetic. There’s a lightheartedness in her use of color that’s perfectly suited for a tale that never loses sight of its young characters’ optimism and hopefulness.
Another Kind is a magical graphic novel that movingly demonstrates the power of being different.
—Justin Barisich
★ The Secret Garden on 81st Street
For the reader who knows that if you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden
Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden receives a contemporary update in this thoughtful graphic novel.
Mary Lennox is a loner, and she likes it that way. She doesn’t have friends in her everyday life, but she makes up for it by immersing herself in technology, especially via her cell phone and online video games. Her parents, who both work in Silicon Valley, aren’t home much, which doesn’t help Mary’s isolation. When they’re killed in a tragic accident, Mary must go live with her uncle, whom she barely knows.
Uncle Archie keeps his New York City mansion tech-free, and Mary has an understandably hard time adjusting to his rules. But with help from her cousin, Colin, and her new friend Dickon, Mary begins to restore the rooftop garden at her uncle’s house. Gradually, Mary starts to acclimate to—and then thrive in—New York, working through her grief and forming meaningful connections along the way.
Adapting a beloved classic to a new form and setting is no small task, and it’s clear that author Ivy Noelle Weir and illustrator Amber Padilla did not take the challenge lightly. Their love for Burnett’s original novel shines through on every page and makes The Secret Garden on 81st Street a truly heartwarming experience. Padilla’s playful, cartoonlike style lends itself wonderfully to expressing the happiness and contentment that Mary slowly finds. Weir’s prose is refreshing and modern, with just enough nods to Burnett’s best-known lines to preserve the story’s classic roots.
Best of all, Weir revisits many of the themes of Burnett’s novel through a contemporary lens, approaching each character’s journey with sensitivity. Colin stays in his room all the time because of anxiety, while Uncle Archie is grieving the loss of his husband, Masahiro. These updates blend perfectly with some of the most powerful elements from the original story, such as the slow transformation of the garden and the ways that nature and human connection have the ability to heal us.
The Secret Garden on 81st Street is a beautiful and respectful new vision of a long-treasured tale.
—Hannah Lamb
Salt Magic
For the reader who would be more that willing to pay the hero’s price for a thrilling, out-of-this-world adventure
Hope Larson (A Wrinkle in Time: The Graphic Novel) teams up again with illustrator Rebecca Mock, her partner on Compass South, to create Salt Magic, an absorbing and fast-paced historical fantasy adventure.
There’s a hint of The Wizard of Oz to Salt Magic, which begins in our world, then launches its hero on a quest into a new, magical world before she finally returns home again. Twelve-year-old Vonceil is the youngest of five children on an Oklahoma farm in 1919. She is a determined and appealing character whose boredom and angst simmer on every page, perfectly conveyed through her many evocative facial expressions and especially her piercing eyes.
As the story opens, Vonceil’s beloved brother Elber has finally returned from World War I after two long years away. Physically and mentally, he’s a changed man, and he seems to have no time for the fun he used to share with his littlest sister. Vonceil feels more alone than ever when Elber marries his sweetheart, Amelia, a local girl. Before long, however, a mysterious, wealthy woman in white named Greda appears in their small town. Greda was Elber’s nurse and lover in Paris, and she is so enraged to learn that Elber has married someone else that she curses his family’s farm, turning all of their precious fresh water into salt water.
Vonceil feels responsible for Greda’s curse, having hoped that Elder would have a fabulous romance with someone from France and resented Amelia for marrying him instead. When she realizes that Greda is a salt witch, she sets out in the dark of night to try to make things right. So begins a fantastical journey that leads Vonceil to uncover not only Greda’s secrets but also numerous revelations about her own ancestors, culminating in a dangerous bargain to save the family farm and Elber’s life.
Mock’s illustrations make every enchanting, dangerous moment pop. Even a close-up of a seemingly simple handshake between Vonceil and Greta conveys the importance of their dire agreement. Other scenes expertly dramatize the desolate landscape Vonceil traverses, the inescapable power of the all-important salt crystals she discovers and the many strange creatures she encounters along the way.
Salt Magic is a feast of a tale that treats readers to an epic battle between evil forces and a courageous, persistent young hero.
—Alice Cary
Other Boys
For the reader who needs to hear that they are never as alone as they sometimes might feel
Damian Alexander’s debut graphic memoir, Other Boys, is a powerfully compelling portrait of a boy learning to understand and accept himself.
Damian has always felt different. He and his brother live with their grandmother in a small apartment, because when they were very young, their father murdered their mother. Damian has also always enjoyed things that he thinks boys shouldn’t like, such as dolls, flowers and tea parties. He’s repeatedly been told that he’s too “girly” to fit in with boys, but girls often excluded him from playing with them because he’s a boy. His struggle to understand where he belongs has followed him all the way to middle school.
As he starts seventh grade at a new school, Damian has decided that the best way to avoid being bullied is to give his classmates absolutely nothing to bully him about. Damian is not merely planning to speak only when spoken to or to keep his voice to a whisper; he’s not going to speak at all. To anyone. But his silence doesn’t go unnoticed, and his grandmother arranges for him to see a therapist. With the therapist’s help, Damian begins to understand that he isn’t weird, strange or wrong. Meanwhile, he’s also discovering that not all boys are bullies, and some are even, well, pretty cute. The only way that Damian will find his place is by staying true to himself and finally speaking up.
As he narrates in the voice of his seventh-grade self, Alexander skillfully uses flashbacks to fill in his personal history. His bright color palette balances the book’s darker elements, and his figures’ slightly enlarged faces keep readers focused on the emotion of each panel. Other Boys will be a life-changing read for any young person who is questioning their identity or searching for where they belong.
Picture it: You’re navigating your first holiday party of the season, you’ve got something to sip on, and you’ve just bumped into an editor from BookPage. Of course, they’ll probably bring up a book they’ve recently read—for example, one of the books below.
In my friend group, there’s an annual string of holiday parties that begins with Oktoberfest and ends with New Year’s Eve. Though each gathering has its own celebratory tenor and theme, all of them have in common a milieu of wintry darkness. Against this twinkly backdrop, someone always brings it up: “How are you staying out of the jaws of depression now that the sun sets at 4:30 p.m.?” Personally, my answer is Wintering by Katherine May. After reading it for the first time in 2020, I resolved to reread it every year as a reminder of the advantages of darkness, idleness and cold. As May travels to Iceland, Norway, Stonehenge and beyond to experience different groups’ cold weather rituals, she reflects on the metaphorical winters that challenge us: periods of unexpected illness, rejection, bereavement or failure. When the sun begins disappearing earlier and my mood starts to sink, May’s beautiful words help me to remember this season’s transformative power and embrace its long hours of darkness.
—Christy, Associate Editor
Valley of the Dolls
I decided to read Valley of the Dolls purely because I wanted to talk about it with people at parties. Jacqueline Susann’s astonishingly successful tale of three women clawing their way to the top of midcentury America’s gin-soaked, glitteringly cynical entertainment industry has been heralded as the ultimate beach read, the godmother of “chick lit” and a camp masterpiece. I thought it would be an interesting historical artifact, but then I inhaled almost half of the book in one day, cackling with glee at Susann’s gloriously over-the-top refraction of her own experiences as an aspiring actress on Broadway and in Hollywood. Whether speculating on which real entertainment icons inspired Susann’s characters or simply recounting the most unrepentantly wild scenes (two words: wig. snatch.), Valley of the Dolls will be livening up my cocktail chat for years to come—just like, I suspect, Susann would have wanted.
—Savanna, Associate Editor
On Immunity
After exhausting all of our catching-up chatter at holiday gatherings, my friends undoubtedly, almost helplessly, return to discussing our current crisis. In times like these, I wish everyone in America would read Eula Biss’ 2014 book. Her son was born amid the H1N1 pandemic, and in her exploration into the history of vaccination and our cultural relationship with it, she makes a strong case for communal trust and the interdependence of our futures. Biss’ book touches on so much of what we’re experiencing right now, from the urgency to protect the ones we love to the difficulty comprehending other people’s ill-advised choices, but surprisingly, her penetrating book is seemingly without anger. It could even be seen as an inoculation against such anger. I have a distant but very real hope that a book like On Immunity would allow us to reexamine our history, which over time has become corrupted by missing information, confused language and outright manipulation, and to instead proceed with clear eyes and compassion.
—Cat, Deputy Editor
Dragon Was Terrible
After a few glasses of wine, it doesn’t take much to goad me into soapboxing about my favorite topics, from the notion that all children’s literature reflects ideologies about the nature of childhood itself, to my soft spot for picture books about characters who violate social norms. Kelly DiPucchio and Greg Pizzoli’s Dragon Was Terrible is among my most treasured of such books. This tale of a dragon who is so terrible that he scribbles in books, TPs the castle and takes candy from baby unicorns combines the wry humor of Monty Python and the Holy Grail with the visual wit of the best New Yorker cartoons. When the king offers a gift to whoever can tame the dragon, the sign posted on the castle wall reads, “It shall be a nice gift. Ye shall like it!” Beneath the sign, Dragon has tagged the castle in bright orange paint: “Dragon was here.” It’s the perfect antidote to the common misperception that picture books are moralizing bores.
There are two topics I gravitate toward in group settings: the point when it becomes possible to grasp the magnitude of the lives our parents lived before having children, and novels that succeed in suggesting that their characters will continue to have consequential, interconnected experiences once the pages of the book have run out. Ilana Masad’s All My Mother’s Lovers gives me an avenue to talk about both of these things, introducing a cast of characters who are all multifaceted and contradictory in the best way possible, navigating their grief for the protagonist’s mother—a person everyone thought they had figured out—while grappling with the facets of her life that became apparent after her death. It’s a stunning reminder that as people, particularly women, get older and their preexisting identities get overshadowed by titles like spouse, parent and worker, their capacity for complexity doesn’t cease. This novel features a twist that really drives that idea home.
—Jessie, Editorial Intern
Books make great cocktail chatter. Here are the five titles the BookPage editors can't stop talking about.
Have you heard any Spanish lately? It's not hard to do with a Spanish language radio station in almost every city of the country. Roughly one-fourth of the U.S. population speaks Spanish as their native tongue, and each year more and more elementary school students study the language. But it takes more than just speaking the language to be really in touch with Hispanic culture. Lynn Joseph's The Color of My Words is a moving story for middle-graders that captures many elements of the culture in the Dominican Republic: dancing the merengue, sitting up in a gri gri tree, eating huge plates of arroz con dulce (rice pudding), shopping at the colmado. Joseph paints a life that is lush and brightly colored in spite of serious economic deprivation.
The engrossing story painted on this Hispanic canvas will convince young readers that the urge to write can erupt anywhere. When we first meet the narrator, 12-year-old Ana Rosa Hernandez, she is washing clothes in the river with her mami, and confesses that she wants to become a writer. Although her mother warns her that it's better to keep things inside ("writers have died here"), Ana Rosa believes there always has to be a first person to do something. She begins filching little bits of paper to write her poems on: the paper sacks her papi buys his rum in; napkins; and finally her older brother Guario's notebook from the restaurant where he works. When she reads her story about a sea monster (a whale) she had watched from her perch in the gri gri, all is forgiven and her brother becomes the principal champion for her writing.
Each episode of the story coils more tightly. First, Ana Rosa is disappointed when her brother's handsome friend becomes infatuated with her older sister. Next she learns that she is illegitimate, and then "some big-mouth politician" tells the villagers that the government plans to buy their land. Guario becomes the leader of the opposition, and a violent street fight ends with terrible results for the Hernandez family.
In the end it is Ana Rosa's writing and her family's gift of a typewriter that restore her sense of wholeness. She knows she must write Guario's story for all to read, and "All the way home, words sing in my head." Joseph thanks the real-life Guario and all his family for their help in her author's note. Readers will want to thank Joseph for a terrific story.
Etta Wilson is a children's book enthusiast in Brentwood, Tennessee.
Have you heard any Spanish lately? It's not hard to do with a Spanish language radio station in almost every city of the country. Roughly one-fourth of the U.S. population speaks Spanish as their native tongue, and each year more and more elementary school students…
The People Remember is an exquisite book that every member of the family will appreciate. In powerful, moving verse, National Book Award finalist Ibi Zoboi (American Street) weaves together the history of African Americans with the seven principles of Kwanzaa. The book is illustrated by acclaimed artist Loveis Wise, whose stunning, vibrant images perfectly complement Zoboi’s text. Zoboi and Wise discuss the creation of the book and how they each hope readers will connect with it.
Ibi, The People Remember is both a journey through the seven principles of Kwanzaa and a timeline of African American history. By braiding together the principles and history, did you come to see aspects of either in a new way?
Author Ibi Zoboi: Absolutely! There were specific moments in Black history that highlight each of the principles. It just so happens that I got to Ujamaa (cooperative economics) during Black Wall Street and the Harlem Renaissance. Kuumba (creativity) landed right in the middle of the hip-hop movement. There are highs and lows throughout Black history, and the Kwanzaa principles demonstrate how we’ve survived and thrived through it all.
The People Remember is your first picture book. What did you enjoy about this new form?
Zoboi: Since The People Remember is written in free verse, it is simply a very long poem. I’ve always written poetry, so it came naturally to me. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to get 400 years of Black history into 2,000 words or so.
Loveis, you’re one of the first people in the world to have read Ibi’s words in this book. How did you feel after that very first read?
Illustrator Loveis Wise: I remember feeling excited, and I intuitively felt the importance and warmth of what this book would bring. At the time, I really wanted to create a body of work that focused on ancestral connections, and The People Remember was the perfect way for me to explore more.
What’s your favorite illustration from the book?
Wise: My favorite is the spread focusing on Mami Wata and the children that she’s protecting underwater. This piece felt very kindred to me because of its stillness, but it also feels very powerfully divine.
Zoboi: My favorite illustration is the one where two ancestors are hugging one tree, but from opposite spaces in place and time. When I first saw it, it took my breath away. This spread perfectly captures what this book is all about.
Which principle of Kwanzaa do you feel an especially strong personal connection to?
Zoboi: Ujamaa, which means cooperative economics. I hope all Black people all over the world can get to a place where we are self-sufficient.
Wise: Kuumba, because it highlights the creativity and the magic we create through transformation and resiliency!
What place do you hope this book finds in the homes and hearts of young readers and their families?
Wise: I hope this book inspires, answers questions and encourages readers to celebrate the beauty of Kwanzaa’s principles with their community.
Zoboi:The People Remember belongs in every home with every type of family. There are lots of opinions out there about Kwanzaa, but I wanted to contextualize why it’s a much-needed cultural celebration. I want educators and caretakers to ask young readers what they would do if they forgot how to play a favorite game or words to a favorite song. They would make up new ones, right? This is exactly how Kwanzaa came to be, and why it is still celebrated decades after its inception. It is a testament to how not all is ever lost. We always remember.
This beautiful picture book casts the principles of Kwanzaa in a new light and can be enjoyed by the whole family.
Hector has grown up by the sea. He was raised on his family’s stories about it, and he dreams of spending his life exploring its wonders, as have generations of his family at the marina where they organize deep-sea diving expeditions. Recently, though, his family’s livelihood has been threatened by a greedy, unhappy neighbor. When Hector makes a magical discovery, it seems their fortunes might improve, but the discovery brings unexpected danger, and Hector is determined to set things right. The Secret of the Magic Pearl is an unusual picture book, and its blend of legend, legacy and quest gives it a magic of its own.
At 92 pages, The Secret of the Magic Pearl is more than twice as long as a typical picture book, but author Elisa Sabatinelli’s conversational, descriptive prose keeps things moving forward. Eight-year-old Hector is a wise and earnest narrator, a bit of an old soul who relays his story in chapters that read with the immediacy of journal entries. While the plot at times seems a little too convenient, Sabatinelli skillfully builds suspense, so readers will be anxious to find out what will happen to Hector and his charming family.
The most enchanting aspect is Iacopo Bruno’s artwork. Colorful and shrewd, Bruno’s illustrations flit in and out of the story, often tucked in amid columns of text, and their every appearance is worthy of attention. Adroit character sketches serve as visual asides and are enhanced by the clever inclusion of sea creatures as marine personality extensions. Every time we see Hector, for example, he is accompanied by a sweet-faced fish who wears an expression of curiosity, while the book’s villain is hounded by a dead-eyed fish skeleton. Detailed sketches of diving equipment, treasures from the sea and other flotsam and jetsam add a tangibility to the story’s cozy Italian seaside village setting. Nautical flags, anchors and a color scheme dominated by yellows, reds and blues give the book visual cohesion.
Lengthier than the average bedtime storybook, The Secret of the Magic Pearl nonetheless has all the makings of a splendid bedtime tale: adventure, danger and a well-earned happily ever after. Readers with a little bit of patience are in for a unique treat.
This longer-than-average picture book has all the trappings of a splendid adventure tale, but it’s Iacopo Bruno’s illustrations that make it a truly enchanting read.
Portico Reeves isn’t an average kid, and he doesn’t live in an average house. He lives in the biggest house in the world. In fact, it’s a castle. Well, it’s actually an apartment building, but it is pretty big. And all those people who also live in the building? They’re not neighbors. They’re characters in a television show starring Portico’s superhero alter ego: Stuntboy!
Is Stuntboy faster than a speeding bullet? No. Does he have X-ray vision or super strength? Also no. But he is brave enough to jump in front of the new kid, Zola, when she attracts the attention of Stuntboy’s archnemesis, Herbert Singletary the Worst? You bet he is.
As Stuntboy, Portico can withstand a bully’s barbed words, but when the trouble tracks closer to home, he struggles to keep up his superheroic facade. His grandmother calls it the frets. Portico’s stomach begins to twist, and he doesn’t know what to do. Lately, his parents’ separation and constant arguing have been making Portico’s frets worse than ever.
In his first original graphic novel, award-winning author Jason Reynolds, whose tenure as National Ambassador for Young People’s literature was recently extended for a third year, gives readers a comic book superhero whose adventures feel both timely and classic. Stuntboy, in the Meantime is an imaginative tale of creative resilience and friendship.
The book’s illustrations by Pura Belpré Illustrator Award-winning artist Raúl the Third are stylish and energetic. When Zola relates Portico’s troubles to her favorite sci-fi TV show, “Super Space Warriors,” scenes appear straight out of a midcentury comic book, complete with Benday dots and bold, psychedelic colors by Elaine Bay.
Beneath its superheroic trappings, Stuntboy, in the Meantime is an appealing story about a young boy struggling to bolster himself against the mundane uncertainties in his life. Portico finds winning allies in this quest, including Zola, who shows him strategies for settling his anxiety. Underpinning it all is the notion that to overcome our fears, we must turn our attention outward. To save ourselves, we must serve others.
Is Stuntboy faster than a speeding bullet? Er, no. Can he defeat the frets, those feelings he gets when his life feels out of control? Find out in Stuntboy, in the Meantime!
This exuberant celebration of family, written in an inviting second-person voice, portrays a girl’s trip overseas with her mother to visit Baachan, her grandmother, and her experience at a traditional Japanese bath house. When they finally arrive and reunite with all of her aunts and cousins, the girl runs into Baachan’s arms, the love between them unspoken and “understood,” a word repeated throughout the text.
After changing out of their clothes, everyone heads to the bath house. Author Kyo Maclear details the sensory delights of the journey—the clip-clop of their wooden sandals on the road and the sound of the breeze as it rustles the fabric of their yakuta. When the group enters the bath house, Maclear slips seamlessly into pleasing, fluid rhymes: “The water will flow / and the garden will grow / at the big bath house.”
Illustrator Gracey Zhang’s energetic watercolors have a relaxed sense of line as she reverently brings to life the Japanese setting and the easy camaraderie among the girl’s family. She depicts the bath house in warm shades of rose and embraces the bodies of the people there by refusing to conceal them. Readers see nude women of all ages washing one another and relaxing together in the big bath. “You’ll all dip your bodies, / your newly sprouting, / gangly bodies, / your saggy, shapely, / jiggly bodies, / your cozy, creased, / ancient bodies,” Maclear writes. “Beautiful bodies,” she declares.
In her closing note, Maclear explains that The Big Bath House was inspired by her own childhood trips to her grandmother’s home in Japan. At the bath house they’d visit together, she notes, “the idea that bodies should always be private and clothed wasn’t the norm.”
The book is infused with great tenderness as it chronicles a child’s supremely happy memory. In its final image, Baachan and her granddaughter hold hands. “Someday,” Maclear writes, “you’ll find the words, / but for now, / you have this.” That Maclear finally found the words is a gift to readers.
A girl visits a traditional Japanese bath house with her grandmother in this tender picture book that offers a different way of looking at nudity and the human body.
An inspiring take on a classical theme, David Soman’s The Impossible Mountain is both a magnificent allegory and a grand adventure.
Siblings Anna and Finn have heard the warnings about going beyond the wall that surrounds their village: It’s too high to climb, and the world beyond is too scary, with far too many bears. But there’s a whole stunning world waiting to be explored beyond the shelter of the wall, and though it’s not an easy journey—the best escapades never are— off they go, Finn in his cozy knitted hat cheerfully following determined, purple-haired Anna.
Soman, best known for co-creating the delightful and bestselling Ladybug Girl picture book series with his wife, Jacky, outdoes himself in illustrating the vast scenery here. Towering cliffs and powerful waterfalls dwarf Anna and Finn, while a sparkling blue-green river dotted with boulders beckons them onward. Skilled use of light and shadow creates enchanting emerald forests and a campfire whose warmth you can almost feel. With settings this deep and intriguing, you’ll feel torn between the desire to linger over every spread and the yearning to discover what awaits beyond the next page turn.
Anna and Finn’s path includes perils, threats and mystery, but Soman imbues every moment with wonder and ensures that their adventure feels reassuring and inspiring rather than frightening. Keep an eye out for the vivid red cardinal that accompanies the siblings and appears in every scene, an emblem of protection and optimism.
Although The Impossible Mountain would feel complete as a wordless picture book, Soman’s text complements his images perfectly. With a true storyteller’s sagacity, Soman knows exactly when to elaborate (which he does with literary flair) and when to pull back. He keeps Anna and Finn’s dialogue minimal, subtly conveying their easy camaraderie and shared bravery. When the pair ascend to the top of the wall for the first time, the only thing they can each say is “Wow.” Although its narrative follows familiar beats, The Impossible Mountain’s charming characters, breathtaking art and themes of perseverance, curiosity and hope set it apart. If we learn one lesson from picture books, perhaps it should be that the impossible is never impossible—and that impossible journeys are the ones most worth taking.
If we learn one lesson from David Soman’s magnificent picture book, it’s that “impossible” journeys are the ones most worth taking.
Tips for Teachers is a monthly column in which experienced teacher and children’s librarian Emmie Stuart shares book recommendations and a corresponding teaching guide for fellow elementary school teachers.
I have never lived on a farm, and I don’t really like animals. So why do Carl Larsson’s farm paintings hang on my living room and kitchen walls? Why do I cherish my annual tradition of visiting a local farm with a friend and her children? Why do I always slow down to admire the tidy and picturesque family farm that I pass on the way to my parents’ cottage in rural North Carolina? Why do weathered red barns, rolling fields bordered by white fences, the smell of hay and the clucking of chickens fill me with deep nostalgia? Why do farms have such a tight grasp on my heartstrings?
I blame it on stories. I read my childhood copy of Trinka Hakes Noble and Steven Kellogg’s The Day Jimmy’s Boa Ate the Wash so many times that it’s now held together by Scotch tape. Each year, when my family pulled down our heavy box of Christmas books from the attic, Joseph Slate and Ashley Wolff’s Who Is Coming to Our House? was the one I wanted to find first. I can still hear my mom’s voice reading Charlotte’s Web to me and my sister. Yes, farms hold a beloved place in my heart and imagination.
The kindergarten classes at my school are about to begin a nine-week study of farms and farm animals. I can’t wait to share the following three books with my students. I can only hope that these books’ agrarian settings, memorable characters and reassuring stories impress themselves upon my students’ hearts and minds, fostering a lifelong fondness for farms.
The Barn
By Leah H. Rogers Illustrated by Barry Root
In this gentle narrative about a weathered wooden barn that overlooks rolling hills and a white farmhouse, the barn reminisces about its construction. A communal barn raising brought it into existence over a century ago. Using the phrase “I am a barn” as a refrain, the barn narrates in lyrical prose. All day long—from the morning, “when the sun begins to grow over the treetops” and “strands of sunlight reach through my cobwebbed windows,” to the evening, when “the chill night air blows quietly down my stone aisle”—both animals and people come in and out of the barn’s shelter.
Rogers’ text is rich with sensory language and gentle rhythm. Root’s watercolor and gouache illustrations are suffused with golden light as they warmly depict the barn, animals and surrounding verdant hillsides. Familiar and comforting, The Barn offers children a beautiful and meditative look at a rural farm.
Farm life
The idea of a barn raising may be unfamiliar to some children. Read Patricia MacLachlan and Kenard Pak’s The Hundred-Year Barn to learn more about this tradition. Older students will enjoy clips from this documentary about an Amish barn raising. Ask students if they can think of similar events that have happened in their community. How do communities or neighborhoods come together to help others?
Extend the idea by discussing family farms. Read Cris Peterson and Alvin Upitis’ Century Farm. Show clips of what it’s like to be a child living on a family farm.
Art study
Ask students to tell you what they notice and wonder about in Root’s illustrations. Point out where the barn is located in relation to the rest of the farm. Show students more pieces of art featuring barns and farms, and ask them to verbalize what they notice and wonder about them. Finally, provide photographs of barns in different landscapes. Let students choose one to re-create using watercolors, oil pastels or colored pencils.
Through the seasons
The Barn takes place on a summer day. Reread the book as a class, recording details from the the text and the illustrations that signal its summer setting. Read Alice and Martin Provensen’s The Year at Maple Hill Farm, Donald Hall and Barbara Cooney’s Ox-Cart Man and Eugenie Doyle and Becca Stadtlander’s Sleep Tight Farm. Using details from these books, ask students to articulate what would change if The Barn’s narrator were to describe a day in another season. Using a circle graphic organizer, have students draw or write seasonal details about a farm.
If You Want to Knit Some Mittens
By Laura Purdie Salas Illustrated by Angela Matteson
A young girl describes how to knit mittens, a process with no fewer than 18 steps. The story begins at an apple orchard where the determined protagonist talks her dad into buying a sheep. Next comes a “long, chilly winter” through which the girl keeps her new sheep “warm and well fed.” Spring arrives and brings a flurry of activity, including shearing, soaking, squeezing, carding, spinning, growing and dyeing wool. Finally, it’s time to “get some knitting needles and learn to knit.” When winter arrives again, the girl has a pair of marigold-yellow mittens and true friendship with her woolly companion. This sunny story of creativity and resourcefulness provides a lighthearted entry point to discussions about how farms produce and provide.
Thank you, farmers!
Show students a scarf, sweater or pair of mittens made from yarn, and ask them how many of the steps needed to make the knitted item they can recall. Segue into a discussion about the many products we get from farms. As a class, brainstorm a list of these things.
Read Lisl H. Detlefsen and Renée Kurilla’s Right This Very Minute, G. Brian Karas’ On the Farm, at the Market, Pat Brisson and Mary Azarian’s Before We Eat and excerpts from Nancy Castaldo and Ginnie Hsu’s The Farm That Feeds Us. These books will show students how we depend on farms and farmers.
Use white card stock to create notecards for students. Cut small slits on the bottom of each card with a craft knife. Pass the cards out to students and guide them in writing thank-you notes to a local farm or farmer. Let students choose pieces of yarn to weave in and out of the slits at the bottom of the card; this activity helps develop fine-motor skills.
Yarn measurements
Cut pieces of yarn into various sizes and invite each student to select two or three pieces. Ask students to measure their pieces of yarn using rules or yardsticks and to record their measurements. Next, invite students to use the yarn to measure things in the classroom. Older students should record their findings using a number-sense sentence, like this:
The pencil sharpener is greater than 6 inches but less than 12 inches.
Younger students may simply write whether the item is longer or shorter than their piece of yarn.
Next, put small objects such as cubes, popsicle sticks or dominoes at various stations around the classroom. Ask students to choose a piece of yarn and complete the number sense sentence like so:
My piece of yarn is as long as 20 cubes, six popsicle sticks and 12 dominoes.
Yarn art
Take students on a nature walk to collect 8- to 10-inch sticks. Provide long pieces of different yarns. Students will choose four or five pieces of yarn and wrap them, one by one, around their stick. This may sound like a simple activity, but it requires perseverance and fine-motor skills. You can tweak this activity by letting students wrap the yarn around simple cardboard shapes. If time permits, teach older students how to finger knit.
Cold Turkey
By Corey Rosen Schwartz and Kirsti Call Illustrated by Chad Otis
It’s no surprise that Turkey wakes up “c-c-cold,” because it’s 10 degrees outside! Bundled up in a green coat, a blue scarf, black boots and a red and white striped hat, Turkey ventures out for a trip around the barnyard. As he checks in with each animal, including Sheep, Chicken, Horse, Cow and Pig, he finds them just as cold as he is, so compassionate Turkey shares his warm clothing with them. When he arrives back home, he is “cold and bare / in just his birthday suit!”
Meanwhile, his barnyard friends have joined forces and built a roaring campfire. They beckon Turkey to join, and soon our cold Turkey is a “toasty turkey.” Equal parts humorous and warmhearted, Cold Turkey is filled with vibrant language and clever wordplay. It’s a tender and tongue-twistingly terrific read aloud.
Alliteration
From a chilly chicken to a shivering sheep, Cold Turkey is full of alliteration. Define this term for students and locate examples in the book. If time allows, read other books or poems with alliteration. I like A My Name Is Alice by Jane E. Bayer and Steven Kellogg, Animalia by Graeme Base and the poems at this link. Provide students with an alphabetical list of adjectives and ask them to write and illustrate their own name alliteration sentences, such as, “Industrious Iris illustrated an interesting icy igloo.”
Readers’ theater
After reading Cold Turkey aloud for a second time, assign roles to several students. Give the students signs, props or costumes to designate their characters. Make a large part of the classroom a “stage” and help students act out the story. For the first time through, narrate the story. As students become more familiar with the process, let different students narrate or retell the story as their classmates act it out.
Take a trip to the barnyard with experienced teacher and children’s librarian Emmie Stuart as she explores three picture books all about life on the farm.
Leap for joy! Whistle and stretch, curl up and cuddle, wriggle and laugh with your favorite child. Judy Hindley’s latest book is a tickly, giggly delight for parents and preschoolers. Her text, peppered with rhyme, along with Brita Granstrom’s lively illustrations, invite readers to identify body parts and then get up and use them in play. It’s great fun for the preschool set, and will have them moving, learning, and laughing.
A crew of friendly children demonstrates some of the amusing things kids (and grown-ups) can do with their bodies. Their smiles are contagious: Feel how it makes/your belly go/when you laugh /Ha-ha! /Hee-hee! /Ho-ho! Young children will have a blast imitating the moves: counting off fingers and toes, kissing, bending, bumping, and stomping. The acting and interacting opportunities are irresistible: A mouth is to yawn;/Open wide /See all the teeth and the tongue inside? And even grown-ups will find themselves hamming it up: A tongue is to talk/and to sing La-la! /La-la, /la-la, /la-la! The words lend themselves so effortlessly to imaginative and enthusiastic readings that even a distracted, grumpy three-year-old may be persuaded to listen and join in.
Says Hindley, This is a book to play with. I hope it encourages children to express and celebrate the sheer delight of owning a body. It certainly does, and in a refreshingly uninhibited, cheerfully goofy way.
Granstrom’s good-natured children romp through rooms at home and play outside. Her scenes are full of activity, with a few quiet moments as well. Backgrounds are in a single muted color, with simple line-drawn details, which allow the bright, bouncy kids to really shine without being overwhelmed. The words themselves are visually appealing. There is plenty of variation in letter sizes and a playful disregard of margin alignment. Beginning readers will enjoy picking out letters in the super-sized words sprinkled throughout: Peek-a-boo! , Hooray! , Bump! Eyes, Nose, Fingers, and Toes is a warm book that celebrates the exuberance toddlers feel as they play. Read this book with a child you love, and get carried away together with the silliness and joy of it all.
Julie Anderson writes from Bell Buckle, Tennessee.
Leap for joy! Whistle and stretch, curl up and cuddle, wriggle and laugh with your favorite child. Judy Hindley's latest book is a tickly, giggly delight for parents and preschoolers. Her text, peppered with rhyme, along with Brita Granstrom's lively illustrations, invite readers to identify…
Two picture books explore the art and craft of writing and storytelling, offering advice and encouragement for budding young writers.
In How to Make a Book (About My Dog), Chris Barton answers a question that children often ask him when he visits schools as a children’s author: “How do you make your books?”
Barton guides readers through the process from start to finish in great detail, using his dog, Ernie, as a hypothetical subject for a nonfiction picture book. He begins by discussing the research he must do even when he’s working on a familiar topic. He describes drafting and revision, explains how illustrators come on board and contribute, and then ends with the nitty-gritty of copyediting, printing and shipping books. Along the way, he introduces the team of people who help to transform ideas into books that readers can hold in their hands, including literary agents, editors, art directors, typesetters, proofreaders, publicists, warehouse employees and more.
How to Make a Book (About My Dog) perfectly addresses the intense curiosity many children have about the mechanics of writing and publishing a book while shining a light on many stages in the process to which readers are not often privy. Barton’s narration is engaging and full of personality, and Ernie becomes a fun character in his own right. The book’s extensive back matter provides a detailed timeline that reveals exactly how long it took to create this very book, beginning when Barton and his family adopted Ernie from a rescue organization and touching on an early concept for a different book that ultimately didn’t work out.
Illustrator Sarah Horne dramatizes each step with bright, cartoonlike scenes and characters. Infographics, panels and charts; arrows, stars and other visual icons; and a wide variety of hand-lettered fonts transform what could be a dry nonfiction text into a friendly and appealing journey. This guide showcases the challenging but rewarding work of bookmaking with humor and optimism.
Author (and BookPage contributor) Deborah Hopkinson and illustrator Hadley Hooper’s The Story of a Story takes a poetic approach to the question of where inspiration comes from. In rhythmic free verse, Hopkinson addresses a child with “endless curiosity, / and a deep longing / to create, to write, / to say something about the world—to tell a story.”
Hooper’s illustrations show the child coming inside on a snowy day, taking off their coat, hat and boots, and sitting down at a table in front of a big window. Everything the child needs is at hand: paper, pencils, a snack and even a faithful dog at their feet, but “the words won’t come.” Darkness falls and crumpled papers pile up around the table. While taking a break to eat a cookie, the child notices a chickadee outside the window who is also eating. Inspiration doesn’t so much strike as emerge slowly, and the child returns to the blank page, picks up their pencil and begins again, writing “just one word. And then another.”
Hopkinson’s use of the second person gives the text an intimate feel, and her short sentences draw readers into the push and pull of the blank page, capturing the way that inspiration is so often a series of starts and stops. Hooper uses a spare color palette dominated by blues and whites, with occasional pops of yellow, brown and red, conveying both the wintry setting and suggesting the calm stillness of mind required for creativity to flow.
As much about perseverance as it is about creativity and storytelling, The Story of a Story has a wonderful focus on process over product. It offers lovely encouragement to young writers, urging them to push beyond obstacles in their paths and discover the stories that only they can tell.
Two picture books explore the art and craft of writing and storytelling, offering advice and encouragement for budding young writers.
In an isolated house in the American Midwest in 1860, 12-year-old Silas lives a quiet life spent learning about the new art and science of photography with his father and his ghostly companion, Mittenwool. That all changes one night when, just before dawn, three riders come to their door bearing a long-forgotten name, a bald-faced pony and a demand that Pa accompany them on a mysterious errand. When the pony returns the next morning, riderless, Silas sets off on him to find Pa and bring him home. Along the way, Silas encounters a haunted forest, a grumpy federal marshal, a notorious ring of criminals and answers to questions he never thought to ask about his family, his friendship with Mittenwool and his own unusual abilities.
Author R.J. Palacio is best known for her bestselling contemporary-set middle grade novel Wonder. Palacio ventured into historical fiction with the 2019 Sydney Taylor Award-winning graphic novel White Bird, set during World War II, and she continues this foray into the past with Pony, which offers plenty of Wild West-style action, including a hidden hideout, a small-town sheriff and some tied-up villains.
Palacio underpins these hallmarks of typical Westerns with more historically accurate representations of the period’s deeper social injustices, such as colonialism, slavery and classism, while also exploring how a family’s past can affect future generations. Pony’s frequent references to Greek and Roman mythology are sure to have readers looking up the tales of Telemachus, Argos and more. Descriptions of photographic technology add historical detail, and connections between early photography and spiritualism mesh naturally with Silas’ sometimes frightening, sometimes comforting ability to see and interact with ghosts. Each chapter opens with a spooky 19th-century photographic portrait, and the subject’s gazes seem to bore into the reader’s soul.
Readers in search of fast-paced historical fiction with speculative elements should look no further than Pony. The twists and turns of Silas’ odyssey are both stunning and satisfying.
Maria Ressa’s book is a political history of the Philippines and an intimate memoir, but it’s also a warning to democracies everywhere: Authoritarianism is a threat to us all.
Sean Adams has dialed down the dystopian quotient from his first satirical novel, The Heap, but that element is still very much present in The Thing in the Snow.
