Lulu is friends with all the trees in the neighborhood. Even the trickiest, gnarliest trees can’t stop this intrepid climber. Unable to resist the pull of a good branch, she rescues kittens and kites while the neighborhood kids watch in awe. But when forced by illness to stay inside, Lulu discovers a tree’s shadow on her wall and suddenly her imagination (and the tree) burst into enormous being.

There is a special bond between kids and trees. Another Way to Climb a Tree beautifully depicts that friendship and the creativity that blossoms when kids roam outside. Liz Garton Scanlon narrates with unpretentious language, throwing in repetition and alliteration for good storytelling measure. With a retro feel, Hadley Hooper’s illustrations are cheerful and reminiscent of simpler times. Hooper fills each page and background with gentle, subdued color, which adds to the story’s warmth. Hooper skillfully personifies the trees; their colors become subdued, hazy and less distinct with Lulu’s absence. Tiny details like nature-themed book titles, branch-patterned pajamas and leaves taped to the wall give Lulu’s world a lived-in feeling.

Admittedly, many of us are beyond our climbing years, but this book provides the perfect encouragement to grab a hammock or pull up a lawn chair while kids find their way into the leaves.

This article was originally published in the August 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

BookPage Children’s Top Pick, August 2017

The cover of Richard Jackson’s This Beautiful Day, a glass-half-full story of cheer and resilience, says it all: A child walks through pouring rain with an umbrella. The sky is dark. The clouds are heavy. But the child still smiles. It’s a beautiful day, no matter what, if you decide to see it as such.

The story opens indoors, where three young children stare outside at the heavy rain and dark clouds. They are bored and more than a little defeated. But one child turns up the music on the radio, and they begin to dance and spin. Determined to make the most of crummy weather, they grab their rain gear and head outside, stomping in the puddles, jumping and playing. Jackson’s playful text, heavy on busy verbs, bursts with action: “This beautiful day has all of us skipping and singing and calling aloud. . . .”

The body language in Suzy Lee’s relaxed, loose-lined illustrations is spot-on, the children nearly bursting from the pages in all their joy. Her palette opens wide, as the monochromatic colors of the rainy day fade to reveal bright, sunny colors when the clouds pull away.

It’s as if the entire story is one big contented sigh; the storyline builds with infectious energy to a happy climax, then slows down in the end when the family sits outdoors, popsicles in hand, happy for the beautiful day they were smart enough to spot before the sun ever showed.

Invigorating and inspiring, This Beautiful Day is the perfect summer read.

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

This article was originally published in the August 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Who’s ready for a bath?

After tackling “chores through the ages” in Why Do I Have to Make My Bed?, Wade Bradford takes young readers on a squeaky-clean tour of tubby time in Around the World in a Bathtub. In the opening pages, a young boy runs from his mother at bath time, shouting, “No, no!” as she proclaims, “Yes, yes.” Splashy spats like this one are happening “all over the world,” Bradford explains, “but sometimes in different ways.”

For example, in Japan, “family members take turns, from oldest to youngest, relaxing in a square tub called an ofuro.” Bathers in Himalayan valleys enjoy dipping into hot springs, while Columbians might try a mud bath in a small volcano.

After touring a bit of the world’s intriguing bathtubs, readers return to the boy and his mother, enjoying part two of their “bath-time battle.” Of course, once kids are in the tub, they don’t want to get out.

Micha Archer’s vibrant collages make this book come alive, especially in scenes featuring the bathing boy and his mother. He plays with a beach ball that looks like a globe, quietly reminding readers of the book’s global quest.

Meanwhile, there’s plenty of learning to enjoy. With each new country, mothers and kids say, “yes, yes” and “no, no” in their native languages, providing a natural refrain for out-loud readings. Notes at the end of the book add more details about bathing practices in various countries.

Around the World in a Bathtub is a welcome addition to young readers’ nighttime routines.

“There was a cat who lived alone.” So begins award-winning author/illustrator Elisha Cooper’s simple and profound story of the cycle of love and loss told through the saga of a family’s cats. Cooper uses bold, black lines, white space and affectionate, loving depictions of the animal characters to create a book that can be read again and again.

At the outset, readers see a white cat that goes about daily activities children will easily recognize: looking out the window at the bird feeder, grooming itself, waiting by the fridge for dinner and perching on the top of the furniture.

And then, one day, a new cat arrives: a little black kitten. And the first cat becomes its friend, showing it how to be and what to do. We see both pets growing, playing and settling into their routines (there are now two frustrated felines with their noses pressed against the window to watch birds!).

But time passes, and subtly we see the first cat grow older. It naps on a blanket now, instead of joining the other cat. The inevitable happens. In a powerful silhouette image—our first glimpse of the humans of this family—we learn that the big cat doesn’t come back. This is hard. “For everyone.” But then a new cat comes, and the cycle begins again.

With all the makings of an instant classic, Big Cat, Little Cat captures the love we feel for the animals in our lives and the affection they have for one another. And as an added bonus, pet lovers won’t want to miss the dedication to a long list of furry friends.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is Independence Cake.

In Kes Gray and Jim Field’s earlier collaboration, Frog on a Log?, a frog who’s tired of sitting on logs is provoked by a somewhat doctrinaire cat who insists, beyond all logic, that animals must sit on particular rhyming surfaces. With some trepidation, the frog finally asks, “But what do dogs sit on?” and the cat responds, “I was hoping you weren’t going to ask that.”

That book closes where Dog on a Frog? picks up, as the hapless frog desperately tries to find somewhere else for the dog to sit. He decides to turn the cat’s rules upside down, suggesting it’s the dog’s turn to sit on a log. As for cats? They now sit on gnats, not mats. And things only get sillier from there, as leopards sit on shepherds and cheetahs sit on . . . fajitas. I won’t give away the surprise ending, but let’s just say the frog is in a more comfortable place this time!

Kes and Claire Gray’s whimsical rhymes are perfectly illustrated by Jim Field’s colorful and droll illustrations, which capture an astonishingly wide range of animals’ facial expressions—from delight to dismay—arising from their assigned sitting arrangements. There’s a short window in children’s language development before they really understand puns, when rhyming pairs of words seem both magical and hilarious. And the interplay between the disgruntled cat and the gleefully vindictive frog will leave grownups chuckling, too. If you know a child who loves rhymes or language play, don’t hesitate to pick up this laugh-out-loud read-aloud.

Of course superheroes need capes, and Manny, a boy raccoon, has several he wears at home. For instance, when he sports the red one, he’s strong against an angry army of zombie bears, and in his purple cape, he’s powerful against legions of alien robots. Sure, it’s tough work at times, but that’s what superheroes like Super Manny do. Although undeniably adorable, especially with a host of other young animals, Kelly DiPucchio’s Super Manny Stands Up! is more than a story about a boy’s active imagination.

When Manny goes to school, he knows he has to wear his “top secret undercover cape.” But even with this invisible cape, he can stop fiery comets (which may look like soccer balls to the rest of us) from reaching Earth. One day when he sees Tall One (an angry, oversize pig) towering over and laughing at Small One (a shy, diminutive hedgehog), Manny freezes—until he remembers his invisible cape. Mustering all the courage he has, he simply says, “Stop it.”

Just when Tall One turns his terrifying attention toward Manny, the superhero also remembers that he is strong and powerful enough to say, “You’re being mean.” Soon his classmates remember their invisible capes and speak up, too. Manny’s and his classmates’ actions show readers that you don’t have to be the biggest or tallest or smartest to combat bullies, you just need to say something. Although this endearing picture book is designed for children, its message is valuable for readers of any age.

Scary stories are best at night when shadows—and imaginations—grow with the dark. But what happens when a little spooky becomes a large and looming spooky? A clever tale, The Too-Scary Story by Bethanie Deeney Murguia is just eerie enough to make children hide a tad deeper under the covers. Murguia’s book begins with Papa’s bedtime story and two intrepid kids. Well, one intrepid kid and her younger—and more hesitant—brother. Add in the obligatory woods and glowing eyes, and Papa’s story tiptoes the line between pleasant bedtime story and campfire tale. The dense, black forest gives way to fireflies, and menacing eyes become gentle, sleepy wild animals. But what about that enormous, frightening shadow?

An expert storyteller, Murguia weaves together two layers, pulling in her characters and the reader. She skillfully pulls back before the story becomes too frightening; nobody gets eaten and no monsters turn up, and we end where we began, cozy in bed. However, Murguia doesn’t veer into cutesy, keeping just enough edge to tame even the pickiest little readers. With scenes bouncing between foreboding trees and a comfortable home, Murguia’s art is energetic and full of personality. The two kids, bold sister and cautious brother, are relatable and expressive.

Just ominous enough to win over the kids, The Too-Scary Story will also win adults with its nightmare-free approach. It’s not terribly difficult to tell a scary story. But to both captivate and charm an audience with the perfect blend of energetic narration and crafty illustration? Well, that’s positively spooky.

In Life, Newbery Medalist Cynthia Rylant brings readers a meditation on nature and the course of a life, one that begins tiny and blooms with an appreciation for the world at large.

“Life begins small,” the book opens, and then it grows. Both text and art introduce a baby elephant and its parent, exploring their world. There is a shift when Rylant suggests that any animal on earth could tell you what it loves about life, and illustrator Brendan Wenzel’s spread here is a delight. A group of animals from the wild looks directly at readers, as the focus pivots to creatures other than the elephants.

Midway through the book, Rylant transfers a bit of wisdom, looking to wild creatures as models of intuition, as beings on the planet who know that everything changes and there is always something to love and protect. Wild geese, after all, always know how to find their way back home, and Rylant suggests human readers consider the same. There may occasionally be a dark “stretch of wilderness,” but wild animals know best that each new day is still worth it just to see “what might happen” next. Those looking for grad gifts that are an alternative to Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go! would do well to consider Life.

In primarily earth-toned, full-bleed spreads, Wenzel varies his palette to match Rylant’s shifting, contemplative moods. The “life is not always easy” spread is stirring, showing a bright blue bird struggling in a vast, swirling storm. The landscapes, above and under water, are sweeping, bristling with movement and energy.

This one is full of life.

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

Like many swimmers, a little boy hesitates to get wet right away, dipping a toe in the pool first and slowly climbing down the ladder. Sometimes, he notices, he likes to get wet quickly—and make a big splash—with a cannonball jump. The boy also remarks that he and his friends like getting “all-the-way wet,” but other swimmers just get “halfway wet.” While Carey Sookocheff’s deceptively simple picture book, Wet, starts off at a swimming pool, its main character considers wetness in a variety of ways.

Digitally enhanced childlike artwork with a simple color palette, set against open backgrounds, combines with spare text to form the boy’s descriptions. He notices how everything gets wet in the rain, except his cat, and that his fish is always wet, just like the floor at school. His hands get wet when he washes them, but his shirt gets wet when he dries them. As the boy jumps in a puddle, he knows that sometimes it’s fun to get wet, but when he slips and falls in the puddle, he also knows that sometimes it’s not.

Through these repetitions, comparisons, opposites and beginning sight words, Sookocheff delivers an engaging narrative for early readers. It’s a fantastic start for caregivers and children to make their own observations and comparisons and contrasts together. And just as the boy ends his day with a bath and goodnight kisses from his pets (all wet, of course), children will take comfort in their nighttime rituals—and a dry bed.

The little boy in this story just wants to find the perfect place to read his book. He isn’t satisfied with each spot he tries, one being too hot (the big yellow chair is dwarfed by a giant, bright sun, its shape mirrored by an enormous lion’s face), another being too cold (the boy chatters in a high-back chair as a polar bear—and the lion from the “hot” page—peeks over his shoulder). Another is too slippery and slimy, as a green-hued spread depicts a swamp-like scene of frogs and lily pads (how did this determined little boy get a chair onto a lily pad?). However, with each spot the boy considers, a new animal emerges, wanting to be a part of his journey—which comes into play at the end of the book.

Leigh Hodgkinson (Troll Swap) brings wit and charm to this imaginative story of finding that sweet spot. Reminiscent of “The Princess and the Pea” and “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” for evoking the feeling that something is not quite right, A Place to Read teaches children that it’s not where you read that’s important, but rather the act of sharing a book with friends. This is an excellent book to be read aloud, as beginning readers and even pre-readers will enjoy pointing out the letters and words they recognize. But the illustrations take center stage: The little boy’s reading chair changes with each spread, revealing an assortment of upholstery and textures that are reflected in each setting.

This is a vibrant and visually appealing book for budding readers.