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All Picture Book Coverage

Brand-New Bubbe

After Jillian’s mom gets married, Jillian finds herself with a Brand-New Bubbe in Sarah Aronson and Ariel Landy’s vivacious picture book.

Jillian’s new Bubbe has glorious curly red hair, a mean jump shot and an upbeat attitude. Yet despite Bubbe’s fabulousness, her new stepgrandchild refuses to be charmed. Jillian already has plenty of loving women in her life: her mom; her grandmothers, Gram and Noni; and her great-grandmother, Mama-Nana. So why, Jillian wonders, would she need one more?

Faced with her daughter’s standoffishness, Jillian’s mom reminds her that “family is more than blood.” Jillian reluctantly agrees to be open to Bubbe’s overtures. Matzo ball soup turns out to hold the key, as an afternoon of cooking with Bubbe melts Jillian’s defenses. After all, who can resist a soft, fluffy matzo ball bobbing in a bowl of steaming, delicious broth? 

But as she spends time with Bubbe, Jillian questions whether embracing Bubbe will leave her other grandmothers feeling left out. Several sips of soup later, Jillian realizes the perfect way to bring her whole family together. Spoiler alert: It involves more soup. 

Landy accompanies Aronson’s playful prose with a clever subplot-in-pictures: Jillian’s cat initially gives Bubbe’s dog serious side-eye, but as Jillian warms to Bubbe, their pets bond too. It all culminates in a gathering of family, food and love. Three detailed soup recipes and a collection of resources for interfaith families end Brand-New Bubbe with a chef’s kiss. Mazel tov and bon appetit!

Dadaji’s Paintbrush

Rashmi Sirdeshpande and Ruchi Mhasane offer a quietly moving tale of love, loss and community in Dadaji’s Paintbrush.

In a small village in India, a little boy and his grandfather live in a house surrounded by lush trees and colorful flowers. The inside of their home is a wonderland of color, too, thanks to their artistic endeavors. Dadaji has spent countless hours teaching his grandson to paint. Some days, the pair paint together, just the two of them, while other days, they’re joined by children from the village. Grandfather and grandson are constant companions in a sweet, serene life filled with everyday marvels and expressions of love.

And then one day, the boy is left all alone. Gifted, empathetic illustrator Mhasane drains the color from the boy’s life, surrounding him instead with a palette of grays. Just one small spot of red remains: a little box that contains Dadaji’s favorite paintbrush. But the boy cannot bear to look at it, so he puts it up on a high shelf and turns away from art in an attempt to spare his aching heart.

Color makes a tentative reentry when a little girl comes knocking on the door and asks the boy to teach her to paint. Will the boy let the girl into his home and his life—and open himself up to carrying on Dadaji’s legacy? 

In an author’s note, Sirdeshpande explains that Dadaji’s Paintbrush was inspired by her relationship with her late grandfather. “That feeling that the people you love will always, always be with you? That’s just how I feel,” she writes. 

Together, Sirdeshpande and Mhasane have created a touching exploration of how love can deepen and grow, becoming generous enough to include others and strong enough to allow our memories to comfort and sustain us.

A Grand Day

A kaleidoscope of family fun swirls through A Grand Day, a lively grandparentstravaganza of cuddles, laughter and imagination. 

In rhyming text, Jean Reidy salutes the magic of days spent with grandparents. She begins with cheery let’s-go-have-fun hugs, then progresses through a range of shared activities. The possibilities are creative (chalk painting, gardening, baking), athletic (yoga, cartwheels, dancing) and even a little mystical (magic tricks, attic expeditions, a starlit campfire). Reidy spotlights lower-energy pursuits for more laidback types, too, such as relaxing by a pond, reading and napping—crucial recharging for marshmallow-toasting time!

Illustrator Samantha Cotteril’s fascinatingly detailed and immersive 3-D artwork offers a dazzling array of elements that will reward repeat reads. Every page has a dioramic vibe, with impressively engineered cut-paper sculptures that range from massive trees to minuscule sticks of sidewalk chalk. There are patterns and textures galore, and loads of depth and color. You’ll marvel at intricate wallpaper, wooden benches, hungry cardinals descending on a bird feeder and more.

Throughout the book, characters revel in sharing their favorite endeavors, highlighting the importance of learning from one another: “Try a two-step, maybe ten. / All that’s old . . . is new again.” Vibrant elements of nature appear on every page, with sheltering trees, a backyard garden or a pond dotted with lily pads paying homage to the wider cycle of life. Reidy’s text encourage appreciation and contemplation of the world around us: “Salute the sun. / Soak in the breeze.”  

A Grand Day is a visual feast of a book that will inspire readers to cherish hugs, kisses and time spent with people they love. 

I’ll Go and Come Back

In Rajani LaRocca and Sara Palacios’ warmly engaging I’ll Go and Come Back, a young girl named Jyoti forges an endearing, affectionate relationship with her grandmother, Sita Pati. She learns that, when there is love, the miles cannot truly separate us. 

Jyoti is excited to travel with her parents from the U.S to India, but when they arrive, she is disoriented by how different everything is, from the humid air and noisy streets to the relatives and friends that fill the family home. She’s especially lonely when her cousins leave for school each day. 

But Sita Pati is at home during the day, too, and despite their language barrier (Jyoti knows only a few Tamil words, and Sita Pati doesn’t know much English), she coaxes Jyoti into having fun. They play games, create intricate rangoli designs with colored sand, dress up and cook together. Every night before bed, they sip warm milk with saffron. Gradually, their shared pursuits become their common language. 

When Jyoti’s visit ends, Sita Pati helps her to see their parting not as something permanent, but rather as part of a larger continuation. “I remembered that no one in India just said ‘goodbye,'” Jyoti reflects. Instead, they say poitu varen, which means “I’ll go and come back.” 

Happily, the two reunite when Sita Pati visits America the following summer. This time, it’s Sita Pati who feels out of place and Jyoti who shares her favorite activities: sidewalk chalk instead of rangoli, quesadillas instead of chapatis, and drifting off to sweet dreams after mugs of hot cocoa. 

Palacios’ illustrations showcase the beautiful textures, patterns and colors of their homes, making for a captivating visual experience. She expertly conveys an astonishing range of emotions through faces comprised of simple lines and shapes. The hopscotch court that Jyoti and Sita Pati draw on the sidewalk outside Jyoti’s house incorporates floral elements similar to those in the rangoli design they made together in India, a lovely parallelism.   

I’ll Go and Come Back provides an affirming perspective on our relationships with loved ones. Instead of focusing on our feelings of sadness when they depart, why not embrace the anticipation of their eventual return?

Just in time for Grandparents’ Day—a holiday officially observed on September 11 but actually celebrated whenever we’re treated to time with our wonderful family members—comes a quartet of joyful books perfect for sharing with the young and the young at heart alike.
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A mouse opens his home to one creature after another in this story of kindness and abundant hospitality. 

After many travels, Vincent, “a small mouse with boots on his feet, a hat on his head, and a house on his back,” decides to settle down. Not long after he places his house at the crest of a hill with a spectacular view, a tired bullfrog hops up. When Vincent invites the frog inside to rest, the amphibian is initially skeptical, because Vincent’s house looks much too small to comfortably accommodate them both. However, the bullfrog soon discovers that the house is “much bigger than it appeared.”  

One by one, other weary forest dwellers arrive at Vincent’s door. He warmly welcomes them all as his house expands to suit their needs, and inside is as cozy as you’d imagine a mouse’s home might be. A roaring fire, colorful rugs, mismatched wooden chairs and decorative string lights create an ambience of comfort and whimsy. It all stands in sharp contrast to the rainy night when, amid dark grays and blacks, a lost, hungry bear approaches, filling all the houseguests with fear. Will Vincent’s unwavering spirit of generosity extend to this final lonesome traveler?

The rural setting and cast of anthropomorphized animals, along with author Jonathan Stutzman’s formal tone, give The Mouse Who Carried a House on His Back the feel of a traditional fable. Like fables, the book also imparts clear moral messages as it guides readers to understand the importance of compassionate, unconditional inclusion.  

Illustrator Isabelle Arsenault’s gouache, ink and cut-paper artwork playfully brings these messages to life. In the book’s opening spread, she depicts Vincent’s house as a simple pentagonal outline in a vibrant shade of pink. Each time a new visitor appears at Vincent’s doorstep, a new house in a new architectural style appears on the hillside adjacent to the pentagon, creating a cheery conglomeration of homes. A powerful gatefold spread captures the end result. Young readers will delight in noticing the visual similarities between the new dwellings and Vincent’s latest houseguests.

Readers will empathize with the bear and be inspired by the mouse as Stutzman and Arsenault gently reveal the value of an open door—and an open heart.

This picture book has the feel of a traditional fable as it guides readers to understand the importance of compassionate, unconditional inclusion.
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When darkness falls, nocturnal animals and insects get busy hunting, foraging, building nests, carrying on conversations and . . . visiting their local library. In The Twilight Library, author Carmen Oliver and illustrator Miren Asiain Lora dream the dark away with these critters amid the cozy collection of a truly unique library.

Oliver’s text is a storyteller’s delight. She opens the book with sparse phrases, but as the story unfolds, her narration blossoms into lush descriptions and meticulously polished turns of alliteration, repetition and rhythm. Like the finest silken spiderwebs, Oliver’s prose is delicately woven, each word chosen with care, and her tightknit sentences create a feeling of safety and comfort.

Meanwhile, Asiain Lora tucks readers into a soft berth on the forest floor and provides a bug’s-eye perspective on the vast gloaming sky above. Perhaps the most striking aspect of Asiain Lora’s art is her use of color. Muted background tones give the spreads a dusky feel, ideal for snuggling up close. Bursts of light and vibrant hues pop and glow wondrously against this backdrop. 

Insect-averse readers will find themselves charmed by Asiain Lora’s gentle-faced creatures—especially the bespectacled arachnid Night Librarian—while dedicated bookworms will be envious of the library’s spiderweb bookshelves. As the Night Librarian reads aloud, the library becomes an enchanting realm where everything is warm and welcoming and happy. 

The Twilight Library is a perfect bedtime read. It contains no grand declarations, no sweeping adventures and no high-minded morals. It has only one simple thing to say: Cuddle up, relax, let go, and for a moment, just imagine.

This exquisite picture book, perfect for bedtime, envisions a night spent among nocturnal creatures in a truly unique library.
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“Over a hill, at the end of a road, by a glittering stream that twists and turns, stands a house,” begins two-time Caldecott Medalist Sophie Blackall’s deft, sophisticated Farmhouse.

A couple raises 12 children in the house, and Blackall captures the details of their everyday lives. We see marks on the wall to note the growing children’s heights; the “serious room” where the family gathers for important discussions; the attic bedroom where the children sleep and dream under its sloping ceiling; the farmhouse where they milk the cows “no matter the weather”; and much more.

Despite all this bustling activity, full of the stuff of life itself, Blackall’s text is written in the past tense; she’s commemorating a home that once was, but is no more. She devotes one brief spread to the children’s adult lives, describing what they did after leaving the farmhouse. Once the last grown child leaves, the house falls into utter disarray. A bear even makes its home in the basement!

Soon, Blackall herself enters the book and relates how she found the house and filled her arms with as much as she could carry away. Wallpaper, clothing, books and newspapers, handkerchiefs and more—all from the house itself—were incorporated into the artwork for “this book that you hold” so that the house and everyone in it will “live on . . . like your stories will, so long as they’re told.”

In a lengthy author’s note, accompanied by photographs, Blackall explains that she purchased a farm in upstate New York that included the house that inspired the book. Farmhouse is an openhearted ode to that house, with 48 spectacular pages that absolutely beg to be read aloud. Blackall’s spreads are remarkably textured and detailed. They brim with life and hum with magic, yet skillfully avoid being too crowded or hard to follow.

Vividly realized, Farmhouse is filled with a tenderness and a longing that aches as you confront its bittersweet memories. Yet it leaves you with gratitude that an artist like Blackall, with the observational prowess of a poet, stumbled upon it and brought it to life again.

Two-time Caldecott Medalist Sophie Blackall offers a sophisticated, openhearted ode to what truly makes a house a home in this tender picture book.
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Lupe Lopez: Rock Star Rules

Lupe Lopez is ready to rock and roll her way into kindergarten. Fresh from a summer of drumming and perfecting her hip new look, she knows all rock stars make their own rules. Lupe is committed to never letting anyone tell her what to do, being as loud as possible and making “fans, not friends.” Unsurprisingly, this works great for Lupe—but not so well for Ms. Quintanilla, Lupe’s new teacher. 

Little by little, Lupe learns that even rock stars have to adhere to the rules (sometimes). Drumming belongs more on a stage than in the classroom, and friends are much better than fans—especially when they start a band together! Best of all, Lupe finds a way to remain the one-of-a-kind, “Texas-size” kindergarten rock star she is. 

Lupe Lopez: Rock Star Rules is a fun, fresh addition to the back-to-school picture book canon. It’s perfect for young readers who march to the beat of their own drums but may benefit from a gentle reminder to respect the needs of others around them. 

Lupe is the brainchild of a picture book dream team: co-writers e.E Charlton-Trujillo and Pat Zietlow Miller (Be Kind), and illustrator Joe Cepeda. Stonewall Award-winning Charlton-Trujillo’s influence as a South Texas native is clear in the familiar and joyful portrait of Lupe’s predominantly Latinx Hector P. Garcia Elementary school, complete with the requisite map of Texas on the classroom wall and bilingual labeling of classroom objects. (Don’t miss the nod to legendary Tejano musician Selena in Ms. Quintanilla’s name.) 

Zietlow Miller’s signature voice contributes to the story’s rhythm and narrative structure, both of which make Lupe Lopez: Rock Star Rules an excellent read-aloud. Children will love drumming along with Lupe when she shouts “¡Ran! ¡Rataplán! Boom-tica-bam! ¡Pit-a-pat. Rat-a-tat. Wham-wham-wham! ¡Soy famosa!” 

Pura Belpré Honor recipient Cepeda’s crisp, classical illustration style is perfect for a story with this much heart. He spares no detail in bringing Lupe to life on the page, right down to the pigtails in her hair and the pencils she uses for her drumsticks. 

Together, Charlton-Trujillo, Zietlow Miller and Cepeda have created an unforgettable heroine who will leap off the page and right onto your bookshelf. Fans of feisty heroines such as Russell and Lillian Hoban’s Frances, Ian Falconer’s Olivia and Monica Brown and Sara Palacios’ Marisol McDonald will be clamoring to join Lupe’s band.

One Boy Watching

As many children in rural areas know, living in the country often means being the first to board the school bus in the morning and the last to get dropped off at the end of the day. It means mornings of quiet reflection as the world wakes up and evenings spent on winding gravel roads toward home. 

One Boy Watching is a nearly wordless picture book that opens as the sun is just barely beginning to rise, when a school bus arrives at a boy’s rural home. Some introductory descriptions follow the unnamed protagonist as he steps onto the bus (“Twenty-eight empty seats. . . . One bus at sunrise under an infinite sky.”), but the scene’s beauty can be found in the serene spaces between those phrases. The reader is invited to sit peacefully, to breathe deeply, to soak in the prismatic watercolor and colored pencil sunrise skies. 

Author-illustrator Grant Snider, the creator of the popular webcomic “Incidental Comics,” reprises the same hushed feeling found in his earlier picture books, including What Color Is Night and What Sound Is Morning. His artistry seems simple: It’s light on distinct detail and heavy on bold lines, capturing the shapes of objects just barely visible in the early dawn, such as bulbous trees or the peak of a roof. Later spreads contain sights that will be familiar to rural school bus riders: pastures of hay bales, the glow of headlights in the early dawn, fields of rusted cars, water towers, the silhouettes of distant barns and feed silos. 

The real wow factor, however, is in the quietly powerful way that Snider uses color. By blending colors, lines and shapes into one another, Snider mimics the blur of what children see from a bus window on the way to school. As the journey continues and more children board the bus, the reader can almost hear the sound of their laughter, the rumble of the bus’s engine and the wail of a train horn at the railroad crossing—all with hardly any words on the page. 

Reserved, thoughtful readers who prefer to spend time lingering over illustrations or making up their own stories about the stories they read will especially appreciate One Boy Watching. It vividly conveys the experiences of those first-to-get-on, last-to-get-off students who witness a sunrise every morning and a sunset every evening as they mark the beginning and end of each school day.

The first day of school is a momentous occasion for many children. These picture books capture the experience with sparkle and style.
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The best picture books tap honestly and unpatronizingly into children’s emotions. These two books remind children that being human means appreciating the complex emotions we all experience. 

Sometimes I Grumblesquinch

“I’m a really nice kid,” declares protagonist Katie Honors on the first page of author Rachel Vail and illustrator Hyewon Yum’s Sometimes I Grumblesquinch, a tale about the pitfalls of trying to tame emotions. Katie tries to be on her best behavior at all times. She’s “a good sport” when she loses a soccer match: “‘Good game,’ I say. . . . I hardly frown.” Katie’s mom declares that her daughter is “such a pleasure,” and Katie takes pride in knowing that her parents are proud of her. But readers, privy to Katie’s inner thoughts, know that she contains multitudes.

Katie’s little brother, Chuck, annoys her, and she routinely bottles up how he makes her feel. “Sometimes I grumblesquinch,” Katie confesses. When this happens, her “insides tighten” and she has “mean thoughts,” such as wishing that she had “a trampoline or a tree house or a giraffe instead of a brother.” Vail captures Katie’s feelings with an unequivocal, refreshing candor that’s deeply respectful toward Katie’s complicated interior life: “I wish I could pop [Chuck] like a balloon. . . . I wish he would disappear.” When Katie finally snaps, Yum’s soft color palette and smooth linework are transformed: Intense colors and ragged, angular lines embody Katie’s acute fear that her parents “won’t think I am such a pleasure anymore.” 

But Katie’s mother gently validates Katie’s feelings, telling her daughter that she understands how a person can hold both frustration and love for someone. A shocked Katie nods and tells readers, “This nod is true.” These four words convey so much about how children—especially girls—are encouraged to suppress their feelings and minimize their emotions. When Katie acknowledges that her nod is “true,” she’s also suggesting that some of her smiles have been insincere, even forced. 

It’s moving to watch Katie begin to understand that attempting to ignore healthy but negative emotions, all in the name of being likable, still causes harm. Even after failing to grumblesquinch all her feelings, Katie still receives a loving hug from her mom, who has space for “the whole me” in her arms.

What Feelings Do When No One’s Looking    

Polish author Tina Oziewicz offers readers a whole host of emotions in What Feelings Do When No One’s Looking, translated from the Polish by Jennifer Croft. (Kudos to Oziewicz’s American publisher, Elsewhere Editions, for placing the translator’s name prominently on the cover.) 

Because the book’s title tells readers precisely what to expect, the first spread dives right in, introducing Curiosity, a creature with large ears who sits atop a tall chimney, eager to see what’s beyond the horizon. Curiosity is followed by Joy, Gratitude, Calm, Envy, Insecurities, Shame, Courage, Bliss and more, each depicted on its own spread. 

Illustrator Aleksandra Zając (making her picture book debut) introduces an endearing cast of characters, conveying these emotions as furry, amicable creatures who move about on clean, uncluttered backgrounds. Her crisp, fine lines and gray-tone palette (with subtle touches of coral, sky blue and sage) ensure that even the more volatile emotions, such as Anger, won’t frighten the youngest readers.

This is a picture book filled with surprises. There are unexpected personifications (“Jitters sit in a rusty can in a dark corner under a wardrobe.” “Nostalgia sniffs a scarf.”), but Oziewicz also has a startlingly succinct and evocative way of capturing these feelings. “Anxiety juggles,” for one. These two words float amid ample white space next to an unhappy-looking creature atop a unicycle trying to keep five balls in the air, its mouth a thin, wavy line. A full-bleed illustration shows a wide-eyed creature attempting to blend in with patterned floral wallpaper: “Fear pretends it isn’t there.” And what else would Hope do but pack “a sandwich for the road”? 

Oziewicz and Zając link two spreads in an especially meaningful way: Readers learn that Hate “chews through links and cables. Can’t connect! Can’t connect!” But in the book’s final spread, Love, who is an electrician, holds an oversize lightbulb aglow with amber hues. The bulb seems to run from the same rose-colored cable Hate tried so vehemently to destroy. 

What Feelings Do When No One’s Looking will prompt thoughtful conversations about the wide range of feelings a person can experience. It’s exactly the sort of book that Katie Honors—and all children—need. 

These children’s books put some of our most complex emotions into words (and pictures!).

Debut author Margaret Aitken offers up the story of the superhero we didn’t know we needed: Undercover Granny! Bursting with color and movement, Old Friends is a sweetly funny story about intergenerational friendship. 

Marjorie is a little girl with a penchant for baking, gardening, crafting and listening to Glen Miller records. She used to share these passions with her beloved Granny, the one person who truly understood her. Nobody else in Marjorie’s orbit thinks crafting is cool or wants to spend time perfecting their scones, and she’s too young to join an online hobby group. 

Serendipity strikes when Marjorie strolls past the community center one day. A sign promoting a “senior citizen friends group” not only lists activities that seem perfectly tailored to her interests but also proclaims “New members welcome!” Alas, Marjorie is prevented from joining the group. “Kids club is that way,” explains a well-intentioned woman in the community center lobby. Undeterred, Marjorie reflects that “Granny didn’t give up easily . . . and neither would she!” After acquiring a pair of glasses, a fuzzy cardigan and some flour to powder her hair, Undercover Granny is ready for action.

But then—oh, no! Amid all energetic cha-cha-cha-ing with her new friends, Marjorie’s disguise slips off, revealing her true identity. (Don’t miss the community center cat’s shocked expression, a hilarious wonder to behold.) What will happen now?

Aitken’s playful use of language, from clever alliteration to suspense-building ellipses, will keep readers turning the pages with anticipation. So, too, will illustrator Lenny Wen’s vibrant, energetic spreads, which brim with tantalizing details such as a rainbow of outfits that celebrate pattern mixing, expertly textured leafy plants and shaggy rugs, and a twirling, whirling dance party. Cha-cha-cha!

The seniors’ compassionate response to Marjorie’s subterfuge is a poignant reminder that there’s no age limit on friendship. After all, as bow-tie aficionado Arthur reveals, “On the inside, we still feel like kids. Just like you.” Readers of every generation will delight in Old Friends‘ joyful tone and affirming message—and its superb surprise ending, too.

In this sweetly funny book, Marjorie misses the hobbies she shared with her grandmother, so she goes incognito and joins a “senior citizens friend group.”

The Stranger Diaries

When you’re dealing with a murder mystery set in a possibly haunted high school, you need a practical, analytical lead investigator whose sense of humor is solidly intact. Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur is my methodical queen, her assessments of characters both living and dead as sharp as a jagged piece of glass, her self- deprecation just the right amount of wicked. She’s been underestimated enough in her life—and experienced enough prejudice—to gain a significant chip on her shoulder, which is more pronounced now that she’s been called back to her alma mater to investigate a murder in Elly Griffiths’ The Stranger Diaries. A line from fictional gothic author R.M. Holland’s most famous story is found with the body, so Kaur pays special attention to English teacher Claire Cassidy. Scenes from Kaur’s family life (she lives with her Sikh parents) provide a soft place to land after her most biting appraisals, such as when she’s considering the inanity of celebrity dancing shows. Why do people like dance competition shows? DS Kaur knows many things, but she hasn’t got a clue there.

—Cat, Deputy Editor

Inheritance

She may not wear a trenchcoat or carry a magnifying glass, but novelist and memoirist Dani Shapiro can investigate a mystery with the best of them. In her 2019 blockbuster memoir, Shapiro does an at-home genealogy test on a whim and accidentally uncovers a 52-year-old family secret: Her late father was not her biological father. This revelation kicks off a search for the truth that winds its way through all manner of thorny questions. What role did the emerging field of fertility science play in Shapiro’s conception? Were her parents aware that she was conceived using donor sperm? Did they intentionally keep this a secret? Were they duped by their doctor? Is her biological father still alive? Shapiro’s chops as a novelist shine in Inheritance, which is plotted as well as any mystery, with enough twists to keep you guessing about what detail she might uncover next. Determined to get to the root of her family tree, she is as indefatigable, dogged and determined as any fictional gumshoe.

—Christy, Associate Editor

I Want My Hat Back

The ursine protagonist of Jon Klassen’s debut picture book, I Want My Hat Back, is an exemplary detective. Faced with the mystery of his hat’s location, he immediately begins questioning potential witnesses. He’s polite and thanks everyone he meets for taking the time to speak with him, even though they offer no useful leads. He stays focused on the task at hand and isn’t waylaid by existential meanderings, such as when an armadillo asks, “What is a hat?” He’s helpful to his community, as we see when he offers assistance to a turtle who’s been trying to climb a rock all day. He believes the best of everyone, even rabbits wearing familiar red hats who claim they would never steal a hat. When he hits an investigative wall, he does exactly what I would do: He lies down and despairs until the solution comes to him. And he would never, ever, ever eat a rabbit. Not even a rabbit who stole his hat.

—Stephanie, Associate Editor

The Devil and the Dark Water

In Stuart Turton’s The Devil and the Dark Water, Samuel “Sammy” Pipps is basically a globe-trotting, 17th-century Sherlock Holmes. When a mysterious, seemingly demonic force begins to haunt Saardam, the ship he’s sailing on from the Dutch East Indies back to the Netherlands, you’d think that Sammy would immediately be on the case. There’s just one problem: Sammy’s locked in the Saardam‘s brig, where he is to remain for the entire voyage. Enter his bodyguard, Arent Hayes, an enormous former mercenary and all-around nice guy who’s deeply grateful to Sammy for giving him a purpose beyond body-slamming anybody dumb enough to face him in battle. As Turton gleefully tilts things into Grand Guignol horror, Arent is the down-to-earth port in the storm: humble to a fault, instinctively feminist when faced with a few female passengers who might be better at this whole sleuthing thing than he is and possessed of an unshakable (but still somewhat flexible) sense of justice. Turton maintains that he never conceived of Arent as being, well, sexy—but rather tellingly, many readers insist that he very much is.

—Savanna, Associate Editor

None Shall Sleep

To catch a teenage serial killer, the FBI recruits Emma Lewis and Travis Bell, who are teenagers themselves, for their capabilities as well as their atypical circumstances: Travis lost his father to a serial killer, and Emma is the sole survivor of one. The heroes of Ellie Marney’s thriller None Shall Sleep are remarkably refreshing as their personal and professional involvement in the investigation builds genuine tension and inner conflict. However, despite the novel’s many plotlines, Emma is at the heart of it all. I felt attached to her early on, especially when witnessing her navigate her sense of duty toward solving the case while grappling with the crime’s triggering nature. Her unique perspective and talents provide forward momentum, as she comes to conclusions that people who lack her insight would never think of. At the novel’s end, I wanted to keep following her as she drove away.

—Jessie, Editorial Intern

It takes a certain spirit to leap into action and pursue the slightest of clues. Our favorite sleuths, both real and fictional, get right down to business exposing the evidence and solving seemingly unsolvable quandaries, and we love them for it.
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Eily and her father live by the sea, not far from the mysterious island of Lisnashee, home to the fairy folk known as the Good People. Eily’s father ventures annually to the island to gather fog, which has magical properties. It’s a dangerous job, but the village folk rely on the fog water for charms, cures and protection, particularly from the Good People. But this year, Papa accidentally makes the trip to Lisnashee without his charm meant to ward off fairy spells, leaving Eily with her own job to do.

Marianne McShane’s text in The Fog Catcher’s Daughter feels like it’s been passed down through generations, a folk legend whispered in hushed tones to little ones leaning forward to listen. Her tale is filled with rich sensory descriptions. When she writes that “a cold wind shivered across the sand,” you’ll tremble right along with Eily. Young readers are sure to wonder, as I did, whether The Fog Catcher’s Daughter is based on a true story. An author’s note gives a glimpse into the Irish folklore that underpins the tale, as well as the real-life Moroccan practice of fog catching that inspired McShane to create it.

Illustrator Alan Marks’ watercolor art is so ethereal and captivating, you’ll want to hang it on the wall. Windswept grasses and tumbling waves create a landscape that seems both fantastical and utterly real. Fog creeps around corners, rises from the ground and blows across the water, becoming a character every bit as significant as Eily herself. At times, Marks depicts the Good People as mere wisps of mist and other times as distinct, ghostly figures, perfectly capturing their ambiguous, tempestuous nature. A soft, warm-toned hearth scene as well as the lush greens of spreads depicting Eily’s family’s fields offer a reassuring and welcoming contrast to the wild blues and grays of Lisnashee. You’ll especially want to linger on a wondrous two-page spread of the village apothecary shop and its shelves packed with plants, shells, stones and bottles. 

Though it contains slightly spooky themes, The Fog Catcher’s Daughter doesn’t haunt so much as enchant.

This original tale feels like it's been passed down through generations, a folk legend whispered in hushed tones to little ones leaning forward to listen.
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Hakim, a donkey, heads out to visit his friend Daisy, who lives on the top of a mountain, so that he can give her the sweater he knitted. The mountain is covered in a thick fog and said to be riddled with monsters. “You’re doomed!” yells a goat as Hakim begins his journey, establishing a comically eerie tone to the whole affair.

When Hakim sees a strange figure in the fog, he wonders if the old goat was right. From a distance, the outline of the figure is enveloped in mist, and it appears to be a robot-esque monstrosity. But when Hakim and the figure draw closer, the “monster” turns out to be a dog carrying a pallet of bricks on her head. The friendly dog joins Hakim on his journey up the mountain.

Twice more, the fog tricks the travelers into thinking that they see monsters on the path ahead, but each time, they’re proven wrong and a new companion joins the party. Ultimately, the group realizes that “everything looks like a monster in the fog. . . . But the closer you get, the less scary it becomes.”

Understated humor has never been so laugh-out-loud funny as in Ali Bahrampour’s Monsters in the Fog. The moderate absurdity of a dog carrying a pile of bricks on her head is one thing, but the final “monster” tops them all. In the fog, it appears as a massive skull until the page turn reveals the gloriously ridiculous truth: It’s a bear on a tricycle, careening down the mountain on her way to a repair shop to get the brakes fixed. Even better is the way she manages to stop long enough to meet the group: “A rock helped her out,” we read as the tricycle is wedged into a large stone, sending the bear flying through the air.

Bahrampour presents this perfectly paced, playful tale in muted watercolors and a lively cartoon style that’s reminiscent of the work of Jon Agee and William Steig. The reveals steal the show, but readers will also love Hakim’s sweet devotion to Daisy, who is responsible for her own surprising reveal at the book’s close. It may be difficult for a donkey to knit a sweater, but Hakim knows that his struggles with knitting needles and monsters alike are worth it for a friend.

Understated humor has never been so laugh-out-loud funny as in Ali Bahrampour’s perfectly paced, playful picture book.

Young astronomer Mable loves to listen to Grana’s stories, but her grandmother is ill and “too weak to tell stories now.” As Mable stays close to Grana’s bedside, she looks up at the sky through a telescope, making maps of the constellations. “If we can touch the moon,” Grana asks her granddaughter, “then what is impossible?”

Later that night, Mable embarks on a quest to “make impossible things possible” by touching the moon. After a countdown, she rockets into the sky like a spaceship. As she soars among the constellations, she recognizes fantastical figures from her grandmother’s tales of African mythology and African American history, including an archer, a pair of twins and a friendly dog. When Mable stops for a sip of water from the drinking gourd, she sees tracks that remind her of the Underground Railroad. Eventually, she begins to feel tired, and a group of celestial women cocoon her in a blanket of stars until she falls asleep. No miracle awaits when Mable awakens the next morning, but Grana feels well enough to sit up and ask Mable to tell her a story.

Author Breanna J. McDaniel’s prose is warm and inviting. Grana’s illness seems severe, but McDaniel constructs a comforting, hopeful narrative that emphasizes the strong, loving relationship between Mable and her grandmother. In the book’s backmatter, McDaniel (Hands Up!) movingly describes Impossible Moon‘s personal origins. She also provides brief descriptions of the constellations Mable encounters and explains their roles in African American culture.

Illustrator Tonya Engel’s oil and acrylic illustrations are richly hued and playful. Small flames trail behind Mable’s feet as she shoots up into the sky, a rocket ship of a girl. Brilliant blues evoke the dreamlike atmosphere of Mable’s nighttime adventure, while tiny splatters of white and yellow convey the vast number of distant stars.

Readers who enjoyed Antwan Eady and Gracey Zhang’s Nigel and the Moon won’t want to miss this fresh, imaginative lunar tale. It belongs on the nightstands of young dreamers everywhere.

Mable embarks on an imaginative journey to touch the moon in this lunar tale perfect for readers who loved Antwan Eady and Gracey Zhang’s Nigel and the Moon.
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Every Dog in the Neighborhood

Louis lives with his determined, free-spirited grandmother. When neither she nor City Hall can tell him how many dogs live in their neighborhood, Louis takes Grandma’s advice to heart: “Sometimes if you want something done you’ve just got to do it yourself.” 

Louis decides to go door to door to take a census. Along the way, he learns a lot about his neighbors and their pets. Two corgis named Wilbur and Orville enjoy bird-watching, while a small white terrier named E.B. “dreams of writing stories.” Such clever references elevate the story, even if younger readers might not immediately grasp their meanings. An older man tells Louis that he has learned many lessons from his dogs, Aesop and Fable, while a house in which musicians practice saxophone and flute is also home to a pair of hounds named Thelonious and Monk. All of these touches are artful and light, just there for the taking.

Meanwhile, Grandma is occupied with a project of her own, as she’s unsatisfied that the city has fenced off an abandoned lot. Her efforts and Louis’ dovetail pleasingly, and there’s a lovely surprise for Louis in the end.

Every Dog in the Neighborhood is an easy book to fall in love with. Philip C. Stead’s writing is exquisite, and illustrator Matthew Cordell’s artwork portrays a delightful menagerie of humans and their four-legged friends. Stead (author of the Caldecott Medal-winning A Sick Day for Amos McGee) makes every word count, while fellow Caldecott Medalist Cordell (Wolf in the Snow) brings the bustling sidewalks of Louis’ neighborhood to life. His signature loose, expressive lines have fabulous energy and personality reminiscent of the work of Quentin Blake and Jules Feiffer.

Every Dog in the Neighborhood is a memorable story about energetic grandparenting, the importance of being a good neighbor and the fruits of civic engagement.    

The Pet Potato

Move over, Sophie’s Squash: Albert’s potato has arrived. In Pat Zietlow Miller and Anne Wilsdorf’s beloved 2013 picture book, a young girl befriends a squash she finds at the farmers market. Josh Lacey and Momoko Abe’s The Pet Potato pays similar tribute to the power of imagination through the story of Albert, a playful boy with circular red glasses and a mop of curly hair who longs for a pet but whose parents have squashed all of his suggestions.

Despite his parents’ firm stance, Albert pleads unrelentingly until, one day, his father hands him a small wrapped package, which turns out to contain a potato. “You wanted a pet,” Dad tells Albert. “It’s a pet potato.” Albert sets the potato aside, then notices that it looks sad. The next day, he gives the potato a ride on his train set, and soon the pair are inseparable.  

British author Lacey is no stranger to unusual pet tales; he’s also the author of the Dragonsitter chapter book series. Here, he employs excellent comic timing as he describes Albert and the potato’s adventures at home, on the playground and even at the library, where, “for some reason, the potato particularly liked books about pirates.”

Abe’s illustrations capture it all, from Albert and the potato palling around on the playground to Albert drifting off to sleep at night, the potato resting on the pillow next to him. A limited color palette of greens, reds, yellows and browns allows Albert’s and the potato’s facial expressions to shine. Using minimal linework and an arsenal of adorable potato-size hats, Abe creatively animates the potato, who becomes an intrepid safari explorer, a railway engineer and more.

Of course, like all pets, potatoes don’t live forever, and Lacey crafts a satisfying ending that leaves everyone happy, including Albert. A final spread portrays a diverse array of neighbors discovering how much fun a pet potato can be.

With great style and gentle humor, The Pet Potato demonstrates how a vivid imagination can transform an ordinary spud into an extraordinary buddy.

The Surprise

When Kit receives a guinea pig as a surprise birthday gift, her household’s other animals are perplexed by the creature. Bob the pug, Dora the cat and Paul the bird pronounce, “If you’re not a cat or a dog or a bird, you’re an oddball.” Co-authored by award-winning novelist Zadie Smith (White Teeth) and her husband, Nick Laird, The Surprise is a spirited celebration of the unexpected. In the world of this story, anything can happen—and it does. 

The Surprise (as the newly arrived guinea pig is called for most of the book) is dressed for judo, which she loves, but her new companions abandon her to watch TV, leaving her feeling sad and lonely. As she experiments with ways to fit in, the Surprise winds up in big trouble. Fortunately, she is rescued by a fellow oddball, an older woman named Emily Brookstein who lives in a flat below Kit’s. “Life’s too short not to be an oddball,” Emily advises.

Illustrator Magenta Fox’s artwork is well suited to this tale of anthropomorphized animals. The guinea pig is an immediately adorable and sympathetic protagonist. Ginger-haired, exuberant Emily Brookstein and loving new pet owner Kit make perfect foils to the disapproving trio of Bob, Dora and Paul. Fox excels at facial expressions, whether it’s a smug yet puzzled look on a bespectacled pug’s face or the Surprise’s downcast eyes as the other animals talk about her as though she can’t hear them. There’s plenty of action, too, including an airborne guinea pig and a dynamic series of panels that depicts an exciting elevator journey. 

When Kit returns home from school, she finally christens her new pet Maud. It’s clear that Maud will fit right in with the animals and humans of her new family, but she has also gained an appreciation for what makes her stand out, too. 

There’s nothing quite so wonderful—or as challenging—as bringing a new pet into the family. These three picture books showcase the happiness that these companions add to our lives.
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The Civil War of Amos Abernathy

Thirteen-year-old Amos Abernathy loves history. He and his best friend, Chloe Thompson, volunteer as reenactors at the living history park in their small town of Apple Grove, Illinois. When Ben Oglevie begins volunteering at the park, Amos is instantly impressed with his knowledge of Abraham Lincoln, who is Amos’ favorite Illinois historical figure. It takes a little longer for Amos to realize he’s also got a serious crush on Ben.

When the park invites volunteers to submit proposals for a new exhibit, Amos struggles to come up with an idea until Ben sees a gay couple visiting the park and wonders whether LGBTQ people are part of the park’s history. Amos sets out to find answers and discovers Albert D.J. Cashier, a transgender man who fought in the Civil War and lived out the rest of his life in a town near Apple Grove. Amos knows that Albert’s story should be told at the living history park, but not everyone—including Ben’s conservative, religious parents—agrees.

Michael Leali’s debut novel, The Civil War of Amos Abernathy, is an inspiring portrait of determined young people helping their community become more inclusive. Told through diary-style letters that Amos writes to Albert, the book’s first-person narration is conversational and authentic, and Amos’ self-deprecating earnestness is quickly endearing.

The Civil War of Amos Abernathy is thoughtfully intersectional: A notable subplot depicts the racist and sexist resistance that Chloe faces when she applies for an apprenticeship in the park’s blacksmith shop. As Amos, Chloe and Ben work on their proposal, Amos becomes determined to change the way that “only some identities matter” in the story that the park tells about the past.

This tale of tweens who teach the adults in their lives important truths about justice, equity and the power of history shines with respect for its impassioned young protagonists.

★ Different Kinds of Fruit

Sixth grader Annabelle Blake is bored. She’s been attending the same small school since kindergarten, and it seems like nothing new or interesting ever happens in her small town. She often wishes that her family would move to the nearby big city of Seattle, just for some excitement.

Then Bailey, a nonbinary kid, moves to town. Bailey’s fashion is impeccable and their whole vibe is electrifying, so Annabelle is confused when her parents discourage her from getting close to them. If Annabelle’s parents don’t accept Bailey for who they are, then maybe she won’t be accepted either as she tries to determine which of the LGBTQIAP+ letters fit her best.

The actual reason is a secret that Annabelle’s parents have concealed her entire life: Annabelle’s father is a transgender man and is the person who gave birth to her. He was rejected by his trans community for his decision to become a birthing parent, and his pain has kept him in hiding ever since.

Kyle Lukoff’s remarkable Different Kinds of Fruit juxtaposes two generations of gender-nonconforming people’s experiences. It honors the trauma that Annabelle’s dad went through but, as in The Civil War of Amos Abernathy, shows how much adults have to gain by listening to and learning from young people.

Annabelle also has a lot to learn—about herself, her family and her community. Her eager, openhearted spirit makes her story especially accessible to readers who are also beginning to understand the spectrum of gender identities but who may not have ever met a nonbinary or transgender person. Different Kinds of Fruit will be as meaningful to young people today as Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret was for earlier generations of readers.

The Rainbow Parade

Emily Neilson draws on childhood memories to offer young readers a front-row seat to San Francisco’s Pride celebration in The Rainbow Parade.

On the day of the Rainbow Parade, Emily loves to take the train with Mama and Mommy and meet family friends in the city. As they walk down the sidewalk together, Emily sees people “wearing whatever makes them feel most like themselves,” whether it’s swishy dresses, casual clothing, leather outfits or nearly nothing.

When the parade begins, Emily enjoys the loud motorcycles and the bright colors. But when the rainbow fairy queen invites Emily’s family to join the parade, Emily wonders, “Maybe I’m not loud enough or proud enough” to join the festivities. Emily’s moms offer reassurance that the parade is a place where everyone belongs and that “sometimes finding your pride takes a little practice.”

The Rainbow Parade is a dazzling celebration of queer families that captures how empowering it is to be accepted for who we are. Neilson’s digital illustrations convey the joyful fun of marching in the parade as well as watching it from the sidelines. They expertly communicate Emily’s emotions via facial expressions and body language, whether the child is grinning and striding toward the train, hand-in-hand with Mama and Mommy, or gazing wide-eyed at the people marching and pondering the possibility of joining them..

The final page of The Rainbow Parade includes photos of Neilson as a child attending Pride celebrations with their family, as well as a moving note in which Neilson pays tribute to their moms for teaching them “how powerful it can be when we love and accept ourselves.”


Correction, May 26, 2022: A shortened version of this article that appeared in print used pronouns when referring to the protagonist of The Rainbow Parade. This character’s pronouns are not specified in the text of the book.

The past is present in these books that powerfully remind us how young people will one day lead us all into the future.

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