In this double debut from Scottish poet Louise Greig and Irish illustrator Ashling Lindsay, the coming of darkness is imagined as The Night Box.

A little boy named Max is outside his house in the country as the light fades. It’s time to wave goodbye to the day and come in, but a box is waiting, and Max has the key. While his kitten looks on, Max opens the Night Box, and magical darkness begins to pour out: “Darkness tumbles into the air. / It dances and whirls around the room.”

Greig imagines the character of Night through wonderful imagery: Night is mischievous, chasing other colors away; Night is huge, big enough to hold a house, a pond and a forest. And as Night “soars, streams, stretches up to the sky,” a thousand stars appear.

This is, of course, a bedtime story, and the gentleness of Night comes through Lindsay’s rustic, comforting illustrations, in which lots of white space keeps this tale from being too dark.

In the morning, Max opens the box and “WHOOSH! Night slips inside as Day sweeps out.”

First published in the U.K. in 2017, this beautiful, award-winning picture book has the appeal of a classic and is sure to be a hit with readers and families in the U.S.

This article was originally published in the October 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

It’s a snow day, and Alice’s father wakes to find her dressed in royal garb, declaring she is “KING Alice! The first!” King Alice is full of creative ideas for how to spend the unexpected day off, and whatever she says goes. While her mother tends to the baby, King Alice and her drowsy but willing father write and illustrate a story. Even though King Alice is bursting with ideas and hops from one game to another, she faithfully returns to their story—the one where, just like in real life, she calls the shots.

After a well-earned timeout breaks King Alice’s stride, father and daughter make amends and return to their bustling, chaotic story featuring pirates, unicorns and fairies. Though most of King Alice is filled with the lively pen-and-ink and watercolor illustrations that won Cordell a Caldecott Medal for Wolf in the Snow, the story within the story is rendered via Cordell’s children’s stash of art supplies, and his fluid, humorous dialogue keeps things moving at a brisk pace.

The bond between father and daughter is the heart of this sweet but never saccharine story. King Alice’s father goes all in, never turning down a game in the name of traditional gender roles—he spends most of the book in a tiara and toy earrings—which is refreshing to see. Long may King Alice reign.

This article was originally published in the October 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Drew Daywalt, author of the bestselling picture book The Day the Crayons Quit, brings his kid-centric sense of humor to a new bedtime story with a twist, raucously brought to life by illustrator Scott Campbell.

Roderick positively loathes going to bed at night. He’s adept at coming up with excuses to delay the inevitable. There are the usual requests for more stories and a glass of water, but Roderick isn’t above pulling out all the stops: Why not ask for a pony so he can hear his parents detail all the many reasons he’s not getting one? But Roderick’s parents have a plan. They give Roderick a special stuffed goodnight buddy (Is he a moose or a bear?) named Sleepy. Roderick doesn’t like the look of Sleepy all that much, and when he tries to stash him away in the closet, Sleepy reveals that he’s alive.

The tables are then turned and the real fun ensues as we learn that Sleepy doesn’t live up to his name—he hates bedtime even more than Roderick does. And so an increasingly exasperated and exhausted Roderick finds himself on the other end of a series of Sleepy’s delaying tactics, humorously brought to life through the characters’ dialogue and Campbell’s watercolors.

While children will appreciate the story’s humor, parents may well wonder about the inspiration for the book. Let’s just say that author Daywalt dedicated it to his children, “To Abigail and Reese, but mostly Reese.” Unlike the mom on the back cover, parents can’t go to the store to buy a magical goodnight buddy, but adding Sleepy to the must-read bedtime pile for the sleep-averse ones in your home may be the next best thing.

In Ann Stott’s Want to Play Trucks? two toddlers meet at a playground and engage in the communication and compromise necessary for creative play. Alex and Jack, who meet there regularly, are always referred to by their names in the text; refreshingly, no pronouns are ever used to assign their gender.

Jack likes trucks, ones that wreck things, and Alex likes pink, sparkly dolls. Jack’s play is more physical and aggressive; at one point, the truck destroys a large pile of sand while Alex watches with hesitation. The two attempt to play yet can’t agree on whether to play with dolls or trucks, finally deciding to play “dolls that drive trucks.” When the toy crane comes out and Jack says that no one can wear a tutu and drive a crane, Alex takes offense. An argument ensues until Jack clarifies: “It wouldn’t fit in the driver’s seat.” But of course. So the tutu comes off, and the doll, now in overalls, can happily operate the crane.

An ice cream truck that visits the playground eventually trumps all imaginative play in the sandbox, and agreeing on ice cream is a cinch.

Stott’s text, laid out in simple sentences and uncomplicated dialogue, is matched by illustrator Bob Graham’s soft, spacious watercolors. As with any book illustrated by Graham, it’s fun for readers to take in the details around the children—such as the children’s caregivers chatting intensely behind them and the other park-goers, including one in a wheelchair and a woman in a headscarf. It’s a truly inclusive playground. 

Want to Play Trucks? is a joyful, authentic tribute to the dynamics of children’s play.

Award-winning author David Almold’s evocative and expressive new picture book, The Dam, tells the story of a father and daughter’s last visit to their valley community before the arrival of the newly constructed dam’s rising waters. The duo brings forth twirling, ghostly images from the past—supplied by Levi Pinfold—as they play violin and sing in each abandoned house. As remembered souls and memories drift away, the pair leaves the houses ringing with song.

Almond sets the mood with short, almost curt sentences, creating austere poetry rife with repetition. He doesn’t linger on descriptions, instead allowing the illustrations and the reader’s imagination to flesh out the story.

Pinfold poignantly illustrates this true story of England’s Kielder Dam valley and creates his own visual opus with broad, sweeping hills and hovering fog—rendered in muted colors—that foreshadow the coming loss. With incredible detail, Pinfold also gives young readers an intimate portrayal of the various creatures that made their homes in the valley with his sepia-toned portraits.

Perhaps the most extraordinarily lovely and melancholy picture book published this year, The Dam will linger in readers’ minds. But what sticks with you after the book is closed is not desolation and defeat; it’s blue water and open skies, exuberant children, dancing stars and, of course, music.

This article was originally published in the September 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

In this wondrous meditation on the origins of life, readers see matter expand and time and space blossom. In spare free verse, Newbery Medal-winning author Marion Dane Bauer kicks off The Stuff of Stars with the “deep, deep dark.” There is only a speck in the vast blackness. But once our universe is born, the pages explode with vivid oranges, reds and blues. Caldecott Honor winner Ekua Holmes’ dazzling collage illustrations—rendered on handmade marbleized paper—feature deep, rich colors and remarkably kinetic lines. Holmes takes highly abstract concepts and makes them sing, swirl and spin on the pages. Bauer fills the text with animated, bustling verbs: After all, the creation of life itself takes great colliding, stretching, expanding and exploding.

Three spreads are devoted to the formation of Earth—a planet with “just the right tilt” to support life—where animals, including humans, eventually begin to thrive. Bauer then seamlessly weaves in the birth of a child, who also begins as a speck in the darkness. Here, the story’s second-person narration works to great effect, directly addressing the young reader: “You cried tears / that were once salty seas.”

The Stuff of Stars is out of this world.

This article was originally published in the September 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Great news for Corduroy fans: In honor of the 50th anniversary of Don Freeman’s classic 1968 picture book, the adventurous bear stars in a new adventure, Corduroy Takes a Bow, written by legendary stage and screen actress Viola Davis.

In this new story, Corduroy heads to a Broadway show (“Mother Goose Live”) with his owner, Lisa, and her mother, and his quest to get a better view leads to an exciting on-stage conclusion. The book is a fitting tribute to Corduroy’s creator, as Freeman was a Broadway aficionado, often hanging out backstage and sketching actors.

Davis was eager to take on the project because Freeman’s book meant so much to her as a child: She remembers Corduroy as one of the few books that featured an African-American heroine. “To be able to introduce a new generation, including my daughter, to this character that was so special to me in my childhood is an incredible honor,” Davis said in a recent interview with People.

Corduroy Takes a Bow stays very much in the spirit of the original book’s prose and illustrations. Jodi Wheeler works in Freeman’s distinctive art style, filling Davis’ story with pastel-toned, old-fashioned yet lively illustrations.

This new Corduroy adventure will encourage a whole new generation of young readers to fall in love with this very special bear.

This article was originally published in the September 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.