For most Americans today, it’s hard to imagine a world without a library, but there was a time when libraries were scarce. Before the Works Progress Administration sent packhorse librarians to reach rural Appalachia in the 1930s, there was the bookmobile. The first of these was created by a Maryland librarian in 1905. Part library history and part biography, Sharlee Glenn’s Library on Wheels: Mary Lemist Titcomb and America’s First Bookmobile is an interesting look at a forgotten piece of America’s past.

Glenn’s book begins by looking closely at the life of Mary Lemist Titcomb, who was born in a time when career paths for women were limited. After a failed nursing career (she would get queasy), Titcomb heard of a new field of work called librarianship. Glenn traces Titcomb’s path to becoming the head of the Washington County Free Library in Maryland and highlights the literacy programs she founded.

In language easily understood by capable readers, Library on Wheels is both entertaining and informative. With original photographs and color prints from the era, the book feels like a scrapbook, which makes it fun to read. Don’t skip the final pages, which include an interesting author’s addendum, endnotes, select bibliography and an index.

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

When Coretta Scott King Award winning-author Patricia McKissack passed away in 2017, she left behind a legacy of more than 100 children’s books. In the posthumously published Who Will Bell the Cat?, McKissack revisits a thought-provoking fable. When Marmalade—a cold, sick and hungry tabby cat—seeks shelter in a barn one winter evening, the resident mice take pity on her and nurse the cat back to health. Despite the care she received, Marmalade begins to terrorize the mice as soon as she’s feeling better.

Scared but not deterred, the mice convene, and Smart Mouse offers a solution: Put a collar with a bell around Marmalade’s neck, and the sound will warn them of her approach. But who will bell the cat? Many mice try and fail—Wee Mouse, Tiny Mouse and Teeny Mouse narrowly escape—and even the nearby Rat Pack is no help. While the mice are devising their next plan, four humans move into the house next door. Realizing they don’t have to be friends with the humans in order to seek their help, the mice strategically drop the collar where a little girl can find it. Soon, she finally succeeds and fastens it around Marmalade’s neck.

Illustrator Christopher Cyr’s digital art plays with chiaroscuro to make this tale deliciously ominous. Marmalade’s luminous eyes shine menacingly in the barn’s shadowy corners, while diffused sunlight radiates around the scheming—and later victorious—mice. But what to do about those humans? McKissack lets the mice—and clever children—ponder this dilemma on their own.

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

BookPage Children's Top Pick, April 2018

“On the highest rock of a tiny island at the edge of the world stands a lighthouse.” Thus opens Sophie Blackall’s exquisite new picture book, Hello Lighthouse, a song of praise dedicated to lighthouses, love and finding your way in the dark.

A bearded lighthouse keeper carefully tends to the structure and its internal workings. But he’s lonely, so he faithfully writes to his love and throws his bottled letters into the rocky waves. Later, his wife arrives at the little lighthouse by ship, and readers watch as their lives unfold and their family grows.

Blackall’s text, capturing years but never rushed, flows rhythmically like so many ocean waves lapping the rocks. Design choices, including the trim size, cover art, dust-jacket art and title font, contribute to this book’s tender and reverent tone. An informative note on the closing endpapers pays tribute to the work of keepers. The rich colors and calming repeated patterns, playful perspectives (many of them aerial) and textured, precise details of Blackall’s illustrations (how she captures movement in the ocean waves) make this one of the most dazzling picture books you’ll see this year.

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

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

In Candace Fleming’s new picture book, readers see events from Joey Cornell’s life before he grew up to become a famous artist known for his boxed assemblages of found objects. He was enamored with small curios and stowed collections in his bedroom, his rule of thumb being: “If I like it, I keep it.” Fleming stays in Cornell’s early years, making this less of a biography and more of a boyhood snapshot.

When Cornell was 13, his father died; Cornell watched the traumatic scene from his bedroom window as the ambulance took his father away. In this harrowing spread, illustrator DuBois puts a vivid, blood red to striking use in the blanket on Cornell’s bed. In an effort to cheer his mourning family, Cornell invited them to the barn where he had assembled his first art show. In highlighting these key events,  Fleming makes this a story about an act of kindness to comfort a grieving family, and more about an artist’s motivation than about the artwork itself.

Fleming’s tone is reverent and her pacing is impeccable. The first part of the text moves in two-year jumps as she shows readers what objects Cornell had collected by the ages of 8, 9, 11 and 13. What DuBois can do with light and shadow is mesmerizing, and in many spreads, Joey looks doll-like (whether purposeful or not), as if he’s an object in his own collection. Unfortunately, an author’s note that closes the book has images of Cornell’s later assemblages that are so small that they are difficult to see. But pair The Amazing Collection of Joey Cornell with Allen Say’s Silent Days, Silent Dreams for the remarkable stories of two similarly untrained artists with singular visions.

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

Gillian Shield’s latest story, When the World Is Full of Friends, proves that there is always room for charming animal stories with simple lessons. Four rabbit children live an idyllic life; cozy and safe, the siblings play under their watchful parents’ eyes near a busy stream. When a squirrel family moves in on the other side of the stream, the young rabbits are determined to meet these potential new friends, no matter how difficult crossing the water may be.

On the outside, this seems like an unpretentious tale about making new friends. However, Shields and illustrator Anna Currey also deliver a gentle moral message about problem-solving, teamwork and determination. Each little rabbit has a skill or interest that lends something unique to the task at hand. Even the tiny baby rabbit has something to contribute, and the parents jump in to help their offspring as well.

Shields’ story is simple, but it unfolds naturally and makes for a perfect read-aloud. Currey’s colorful and lush illustrations have a timeless charm that is reminiscent of Beatrix Potter; the rabbits frolic in sheep-and-cow-filled meadows warmed by the sun and dotted with flowers, and even the wide stream is placid and soft. The animals’ expressions vary from intensely thoughtful to pure excitement, but they’re consistently kind, making this story ideal for bedtime.

Bookended by rhyming messages, When the World Is Full of Friends has echoes of an Aesop’s fable. When your little one asks for just one more story, you’ll be glad the world is full of books like this one.

Spanish illustrator Anuska Allepuz makes her picture book debut with That Fruit Is Mine!, a delightful offering aimed at the preschool set. Replete with bright colors and lots of fun alliterative phrases, the story follows five elephants who live in the jungle. Like toddlers claiming toys in a playroom, they’re all quite happy with the fruit they’ve chosen as their favorite meal. That is, until one day, the elephants discover a new fruit tree: “And on that very tall tree was the MOST delicious-looking exotic fruit the elephants had ever seen. EVERYONE wanted to eat it.”

Each elephant tries out his or her idea to nab that juicy golden fruit that’s hanging high out of reach. Each one is frustrated, and all are convinced of a fact: “That fruit is MINE.” But then the selfish elephants see the fruit being successfully moved by the collaborative efforts of five mice who carry it off together before indulging in a shared feast. “This fruit is OURS,” they say. Inspired, the astonished elephants find a way to work together in order to obtain their prize.

Allepuz’s elephants are a joy, and young readers will have no trouble discerning the emotions on their faces—from frustration to fruit-filled satisfaction. They’ll also enjoy discovering that the mice, who appear at the end, have actually been busy modeling cooperation throughout the story. With its simple phrasing, sly humor and lots of chances for audience participation, That Fruit Is Mine! will lend itself well to a preschool storytime reading or a bedtime story at home.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is Ordinary, Extraordinary Jane Austen.

Counting sheep may be an old insomnia standby, but Sheep 101 is not your typical fleecy ritual. Inventive and hilarious, Richard T. Morris’ Sheep 101, illustrated by LeUyen Pham, is guaranteed to end any day with a laugh.

When the book opens, we’re tucked in and the sleep-sheep are jumping—all’s well. That is until Sheep number 101—a little less athletic and a little more stuffed animal-like than his previous counterparts—apprehensively makes his leap. And misses. With Sheep 101 firmly wedged on the fence, Sheep 102 takes charge and calls in the moon-jumping Cow.

Pham’s bold illustrations provide hilarious detail: Sheep 102’s bossy, I-mean-business expressions will have readers rolling off the bed, as will Cow’s attempt to steal the spotlight and document the occasion. Each nursery-rhyme character pops off the page, bringing more comedy and personality to this tale. Morris provides added humor with his narration’s mild exasperation, which mixes with dialogue for delightfully chaotic results. This is an exciting read-aloud, and little listeners will not be disappointed as the story resolves—eventually—with sleep.

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

Mae, a young girl who moves to the city, desperately misses her garden in Florette, a quiet but thoroughly lovely picture book by Australian author-illustrator Anna Walker. Mae tries to make the best of her new apartment by drawing flowers, birds and trees on the moving boxes that fill her room. She draws chalk butterflies on the pavement outside, but the rain washes her creations away.

One day, a bird leads her to a store window filled with a lush ocean of greenery. Although the store is closed, a tiny sprout grows through a crack in the nearby sidewalk. Mae takes the sprout home, eventually starting her own little garden in a jar. That one sprout is all it takes for Mae’s new world to blossom, as Walker’s greenery-filled watercolors beautifully show.

Walker marries text and illustrations particularly well, using words sparingly while showing how Mae’s world fills with new plants as well as new friends. She was inspired to create this book during a family vacation in Paris, and although Paris is never mentioned, its scenes are distinctly Parisian. “We were on our way to The Louvre when I noticed a shop window full of plants,” Walker notes on her website. “We rushed by, but I kept thinking about that forest behind the glass.”

Florette is a wonderful story about nature in the city that thoughtfully addresses the difficulties and necessity of adapting to change.

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

BookPage Children's Top Pick, March 2018

If the first spread in this book doesn’t grab the attention of the emerging readers in your life, check their pulse. “WAIT!” the book opens, in a font size so large that the word takes up the entire spread. “Who is Baby Monkey?” the next spread asks. Baby Monkey (to describe him as endearing is an understatement) has a job as a detective, and in five immensely entertaining chapters, we observe him solve five cases. He finds a diva’s missing jewels, a chef’s stolen pizza, a clown’s nose and an astronaut’s spaceship. (The last mystery is extra special.) Each time Baby Monkey decides to help, he looks for clues, writes notes, has a snack and puts on his pants (or tries to).

Given that he’s a stand-in for a bumbling yet earnest toddler, there’s much physical humor in seeing Baby Monkey play grown-up at his massive desk or attempt to hold a magnifying glass that’s larger than he is—antics Brian Selznick illustrates in exquisite black-and-white pencil drawings. (Throughout the book, rare moments of the color red are used to great effect.)

Repeated elements in each chapter, along with oversize type, expertly guide those just learning to read. There are also visual clues: At the beginning of each chapter, items and framed pictures in the office change, providing hints as to whom the next client will be. That fifth client is his mother, looking for her baby. Good timing on her part, as Baby Monkey is ready for bed and weary from a hard day at work. Even at nearly 200 pages, you’ll be sad to see this one-of-a-kind beginning reader end. Fingers crossed for sequels.

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

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