ÊWhen you shop for fruits and vegetables for your Thanksgiving dinner, beware! As you carefully examine the produce in your favorite market, don’t be surprised to find the produce examining you. Is it possible that fruits and vegetables mirror feelings and moods we humans have? Should you doubt my warning, just leaf through How Are You Peeling? Whether happy, sad, bored, worried, grumpy, or shy, fruits and vegetables have their own special way of expressing these and many more feelings. Saxton Freymann and Joost Elffers, the creative minds and artistic hands behind such popular books as Play with Your Food and Play with Your Pumpkin, have captured the natural smiles, frowns, grimaces, and snarls found on fruits and vegetables to produce another delightful book for all ages. The produce sculptures are carved using an Exacto knife. Features are added to enhance natural contours, folds, and indentions by using natural materials such as black-eyed peas for eyes and beet juice coloring for mouths. Once the sculptures are complete, they are photographed against colored backgrounds to achieve the effect and mood of each model. The result is an amazing art form, chock full of humor. A variety of peppers, oranges, onions, apples, melons, tomatoes, strawberries, turnips, pears, lemons, kiwis, and radishes cleverly depict the many human feelings and emotions we experience each day.
The book is easy enough for young readers to enjoy independently. Younger children will identify with the feelings expressed in the clever produce sculptures. The text asks many questions; regardless of what the answers may be, readers of all ages (and picture-lookers, too) will chuckle while turning each page. This book is a very good choice to have on hand when children need help dealing with emotions. Placed on a coffee table, the book will become a humorous conversation piece. After reading How Are You Peeling? you will never again look at produce the same old way.
Cynthia Drennan is a retired university administrator and grandmother of four.
ÊWhen you shop for fruits and vegetables for your Thanksgiving dinner, beware! As you carefully examine the produce in your favorite market, don't be surprised to find the produce examining you. Is it possible that fruits and vegetables mirror feelings and moods we humans have?…
Right from the title, Sometimes Cake is yummy and appealing; who wouldn’t want a story about cake? But cake is just one part of this charming picture book.
Audrey’s friend, Lion, loves festivities. He always seems to be surrounded by balloons, confetti and party hats. But one day, when Audrey’s playmate seems pensive and quiet, Audrey knows it’s her turn to find something to celebrate. Edwina Wyatt and Tamsin Ainslie offer a sweet story about friendship, celebration and what it looks like to show up for the people—or lions—in your life.
The best word for Ainslie’s illustrations is soft. Muted colors and a cream-colored background create a warm, gentle world for these characters. Ainslie’s lines, too, are soft and sketchy, devoid of harsh edges. Little Audrey, with her untidy hair and mismatched socks, and big Lion, with his rosy cheeks and friendly expressions, make a fetching pair. Balloons, baking supplies, toys and streamers are strewn around many scenes, adding delightful disorder and perfectly embodying the book’s playful, imaginative tone. We don’t know much about Audrey and Lion, but Ainslie makes them and their world immediately likable and welcoming. Even the scene where Lion seems lonely and sad is tempered by the presence of tranquil trees and flowers.
Wyatt forgoes fancy literary flourishes for simple, brief and approachable text. She also makes excellent use of repetition, adding predictability that will engage the youngest of readers. Wyatt’s plainspoken writing has a unique sense of humor that will leave adults smiling at Audrey and Lion’s childlike logic, as when Audrey finds Lion, wearing a yellow paper crown adorned with orange pompoms, in the middle of making a yellow and orange pennant banner. “What are you celebrating?” she asks. “Orange mostly,” replies Lion, then adds, “Also yellow.”
Calm, kind and earnest, Sometimes Cake is an easy book to like. It is fun, cheery and not too rambunctious for bedtime or other quiet moments. It’s also a lovely introduction to the concept of empathy, especially for the littlest readers, and may inspire a few “regular day” celebrations. But what makes Sometimes Cake a true gem is its accessible, heartfelt message: Be the friend who shows up with cake. Bring confetti to the party. Pay attention to those around you. Sometimes it’s just Tuesday, but even Tuesdays deserve cake.
This is a sweet story about friendship, celebration and what it looks like to show up for the people—or lions—in your life.
Charly Palmer will have young readers on the edge of their seats from the narrator’s very first words in The Legend of Gravity: A Tall Basketball Tale: “I’ve heard you young folks talking about who is the best ballplayer to ever grace the court. Like that ‘King James’ someone or other. He’s not too shabby. But have you ever heard of Gravity?”
Gravity, the new kid in the Hillside projects neighborhood in Milwaukee, walks onto a playground court and asks to join the game. He’s quickly revealed to be so talented that everyone wants him on their team. When it’s time for the citywide pickup tournament, Gravity’s team, the Eagles, employs a simple strategy of “getting the ball to Gravity and letting him do the rest.” They make it all the way to the finals, where the opposition proves tougher than Gravity can handle alone. The Eagles will have to come together to stand a chance of winning.
The Legend of Gravity is expertly told, full of suspense and humor, and Palmer fully embraces the language of legend. His titular “one-man show” of a player “once jumped so high that we were able to go out for ice cream before he came down.” Palmer introduces Gravity’s teammates by their wonderful, evocative nicknames, such as Left 2 Right (“you never know where he’s going”) and Sky High (“when he jumped, he looked like he could touch the clouds”). When Palmer reveals the narrator’s identity at a pivotal moment in the championship game, it’s a fabulous surprise that’s guaranteed to delight.
Palmer’s impressionistic art perfectly conveys the story’s energy. The first time we see Gravity, it’s in a close-up of his black-and-white sneakers and lanky legs striding onto the court. An especially epic spread depicts Gravity soaring into outer space while his teammates on the court stare up at him in awe. His orange basketball glows against the deep blue background and alongside several warm-toned planets. Palmer alternates between spot art and full- and double-page illustrations, and the effect is reminiscent of the way televised sports broadcasts move from close-ups to full-court coverage. Readers will feel like they have courtside seats as they listen in on team discussions and watch the Eagles’ strategy play out.
The Legend of Gravity is a riveting rocket of a tale. Like a memorable championship game, it deserves to be revisited over and over again by legions of devoted fans.
This riveting rocket of a tall tale makes readers feel like they have courtside seats to a basketball game of mythic proportions.
These two picture books—one set in the city, the other set on a farm—remind us that wherever we may be during the Christmas holiday season, there’s always something special about coming together to care for others and share simple gifts.
With all her heart, Deja wants to believe in Santa, despite the doubts that her classmates have instilled in her. After all, her family’s apartment doesn’t have a chimney, and really, just how could Santa actually live at the North Pole? Deja’s mom sets out to answer these and many other questions about how Santa navigates the big city to find their home. She even reveals how he finds Deja when her family spends Christmas with their relatives in Jamaica.
In the process, readers see glimpses of Deja’s family and community, from Mr. Clark, who cares for their apartment building, to Mr. Ortiz at the bodega, to Deja’s aunties and uncles. They’re all happy to answer Deja’s questions about how Santa works and provide evidence that “magic always finds a way.” Although Deja hopes to pose her questions directly to the source by staying up late to catch Santa in the act, well, we all know that small eyes eventually close, even on Christmas Eve. But Santa leaves behind a very special message for Deja, ensuring that the young believer will enthusiastically begin counting down the days to the next Christmas.
Tiffany D. Jackson’s lively, heartwarming text is brought vividly to life by Reggie Brown’s bright, bold artwork that depicts Deja’s close-knit community within a bustling and colorful city setting. Many children share Deja’s questions about how Santa can find them (How will he get into the building? Where will the reindeer land?), making this book an excellent alternative to Santa stories about families who live in houses with chimneys and depict only white Santas and Santa’s helpers. Santa in the City is a wonderfully magical and inclusive holiday story.
When her parents announce that they’ll be keeping Christmas simple this year, the young narrator of Phyllis Alsdurf and Lisa Hunt’s A Simple Christmas on the Farm is less than enthused. For one thing, her dad explains, they’ll be making all their own presents. But after the girl and her mom pick out a small, straggly Christmas tree, she gets into the spirit of focusing “less on getting and more on giving,” and makes a plan to host a gathering of friends and neighbors in their little red barn.
The girl and her mom bake cut-out cookies, and as the girl hands them out, she invites members of her diverse rural community to the celebration. Among the attendees are the girl’s grandparents, who live nearby, a nurse at the senior center that the girl and her mom visit every month and the town veterinarian and her family. The ensuing feast is a delicious spread that includes candied yams, roast beef, tamales and, of course, Christmas cookies, all set against the warm glow of the barn’s interior, decorated with pine garlands and string lights.
Hunt’s artwork tends toward simple shapes and bright colors, giving it a folksy feel. She often sets off outdoor scenes with white space, which emphasizes the snowy landscape. Alsdurf extends her story’s theme in a practical way by including instructions for three easy projects that families can make together at home, such as star-shaped ornaments the girl creates with her grandmother from scraps of fabric and old buttons.
Just as in Santa in the City, A Simple Christmas on the Farm ends as the narrator looks forward to another Christmas, highlighting one of the simplest joys of the season, no matter where or how it’s celebrated: the secure knowledge that it will always come again.
Wherever we may be during the Christmas holiday season, there’s something special about coming together to care for others and share simple gifts.
As Christmas approaches, cuddle up with picture books that pack a surprising amount of holiday cheer into a mere 40 pages. They’re perfect for sharing with the little bundles of joy in your life: young readers!
★ Tiny Reindeer
Chris Naylor-Ballesteros’ Tiny Reindeer isn’t just small. In fact, he’s hoof-high to Santa’s “big, stamping, snorting reindeer.” Naylor-Ballesteros takes the tiny theme and runs with it, revealing entertaining new delights with every page turn.
Tiny Reindeer yearns to be useful, but clever vignettes depict him tangled in reins and harnesses, taking an unexpected bath in a water bowl and covered in tape and twine after attempting to wrap gifts. Then he stumbles upon a letter from a girl asking Santa for a little reindeer to go with her small sleigh, which was crafted for her by her grandfather. “He wanted to make a reindeer too,” she writes, “but couldn’t in the end so my sleigh won’t ever fly anywhere.”
Naylor-Ballesteros handles the death of a grandparent subtly and with touching sensitivity as Tiny Reindeer realizes this is his time to shine. Clad in a jaunty hat and scarf, he takes a flying leap into the back of Santa’s sleigh, parachutes down the girl’s chimney (using her letter as his chute) and then faces his most challenging obstacle yet: climbing the stairs.
During this busy time of year, it’s easy for children to feel overlooked or left out of adults’ hustle and bustle. Young readers will adore Tiny Reindeer’s determined attempts to fit in and stand out. Naylor-Ballesteros paces his story perfectly, and every player, including the girl, Tiny Reindeer and Santa himself, gets their moment in the spotlight. Tiny Reindeer is a wonderful addition to the Christmas picture book canon that reminds us of the special gifts we all have to offer, no matter how tiny we might be.
The Christmas Owl
A unique blend of fact and fiction, The Christmas Owl follows a little owl during an incredible true journey that took place in 2020.
After delivering a spruce tree from Oneonta, New York, workers erecting the Christmas tree display at New York City’s Rockefeller Center discovered a saw-whet owl, the smallest owl species in the northeastern United States, huddled in its branches. The public was enchanted by the tiny hitchhiker, who was transported to a wildlife rehabilitation center in upstate New York run by Ellen Kalish, where he was given the name Rockefeller—Rocky for short.
Co-authors Kalish and Gideon Sterer (The Midnight Fair) transform this incident into a magical holiday tale centered on Little Owl as she tries to learn the meaning of Christmas. Ramona Kaulitzki’s illustrations set a festive mood from the start as Little Owl flies out ahead of a group of animals—moose, rabbit, skunk and squirrel—galloping through falling snow. In the distance, a village nestles in the valley below, dotted with towering evergreen trees. One of the trees is Little Owl’s home, destined to be cut down and transported far away. Kaulitzki’s art is bathed in beautiful shades of deep blue, giving each page a wintry glow. Warm touches of yellow, including twinkling lights and the yellows of taxis, trucks and workers’ jackets, add to the effect.
The book focuses on Little Owl’s perspective every step of the way. Her wide eyes reflect wisdom and surprise simultaneously, whether she’s gazing around at a strange new urban landscape or looking up into Kalish’s kind, welcoming eyes at the wildlife center. Little Owl’s innocent confusion about Christmas, a new word she hears from both humans and her woodland friends, reflects many children’s sense of wonder about the season. As Kalish nurses Little Owl back to health, the owl ponders, “Could Christmas be caring? Could Christmas be kind?”
Fascinating back matter provides a nice contrast to the anthropomorphized tale. Kalish describes exactly what happened to the real Rocky, including her release into the wild to begin migrating south. The Christmas Owl is an intriguing fable that offers young readers much to contemplate, including the impact of human actions on the natural world.
Zee Grows a Tree
How do Christmas trees grow so big and tall, anyway? Zee Grows a Tree cleverly weaves the details into a fictional story that juxtaposes a child’s growth against that of a Douglas fir.
On the day that Zee Cooper is born, a seedling pokes up from the soil at her family’s tree farm. Her parents put it in a pot labeled “Zee’s Tree,” and their baby girl learns to love and nurture it as it grows alongside her, eventually inspiring her to want to become a botanist when she’s an adult.
Author Elizabeth Rusch excels at showing similarities between Zee and her tree. At age 4, Zee is shorter than the kids in her class. “Everyone grows at different rates,” Zee’s father tells her. She repeats his reassuring words as she measures her tree, which is also shorter than the other trees. Rusch adds touches of drama throughout, depicting Zee going to great lengths to protect her fir from extreme heat and cold. Rusch also incorporates brief factual notes about fir trees on various pages, as well as more extensive information at the end of the book.
Will Hillenbrand’s lively illustrations infuse each page of this quiet, measured story with action and emotion. As the tree thrives, Zee soars through the air in a tire swing, heads off on the school bus and bounces a soccer ball on her knee. Hillenbrand expertly portrays the strong bond that Zee feels with her tree, capturing the curiosity, concern and compassion on her face as she inspects the sapling. When she camps alongside it during a heat wave, her lantern casts a lovely glow as she reads aloud to her tree, her gray cat curled up at her knee, ice cubes spread around the tree’s trunk to ward off the effects of drought.
Although Zee Grows a Tree ends on a seasonal note (don’t worry, Zee’s tree stays firmly planted in the ground), this informative tale will be enjoyed by young naturalists at any time of year.
Each of these picture books explores the most complex emotion of all: love. They’re the perfect gift for a young child or a new or expecting parent, exquisite keepsakes for families to cherish and pass on as the years go by.
★ What Is Love?
Author Mac Barnett spins a remarkable story from a simple question in What Is Love?. When a boy asks his grandmother what love is, she suggests that he venture into the world to find an answer for himself, so the lad leaves home on an unusual quest. Along the way, he encounters a wide range of characters, each of whom offers a different perspective on the meaning of the emotion.
For the carpenter, love is a house that “wobbles and creaks.” The structure may be unsteady, the carpenter says, “But in the end, the thing stands.” For the actor, love is applause from an adoring audience. “At that moment,” the actor tells the boy, “you know: You exist. You are seen.” Yet these and other responses fail to satisfy the boy. Not until he returns home, having reached adulthood, is he able to identify for himself the meaning of love.
Barnett’s story is profound and accessible, a tale infused with a sense of adventure and a timeless quality. Carson Ellis’ illustrations add color and energy to the proceedings. Thanks to her fanciful, detailed depictions, each character the boy encounters has a distinct personality. This journey will inspire readers to consider the book’s central question and come up with answers of their own.
Bigger Than a Bumblebee
In Joseph Kuefler’s delightful Bigger Than a Bumblebee, a mother introduces her child to the wonders of the world, but none of them compare to the miracle of the love they share. In beautifully poetic text, the mother explains to her “darling” that they are both smaller and larger than their animal friends—smaller than the brown bear and the giraffe, but bigger than the mouse and the porcupine. In the end, though, what matters most is love, an emotion that cannot be measured: “Love is me and you,” she says. “Our love is small, but it is big, too.”
Kuefler’s splendid illustrations portray an array of natural phenomena, from faraway stars in the night sky, to a stream teeming with toads and fireflies, to a patch of desert populated by birds and a solitary long-eared jack rabbit. Young readers will be captivated by the dynamic spreads and the creatures, great and small, that Kuefler includes. A moving celebration of the majesty of nature and the bond between parent and child, Bigger Than a Bumblebee powerfully delivers a heartfelt message: Love is limitless and unquantifiable, a force that knows no boundaries.
★ My Love for You Is Always
In the warm, wonderful My Love for You Is Always, a young boy quizzes his mother about the nature of love. “Does it have a taste or a smell?” he wonders as he helps her in the kitchen. As she puts together a traditional Chinese feast for their family, his mother takes inspiration from the dishes they’re cooking to answer his questions. Author Gillian Sze’s text is full of sensory imagery. Love, the boy’s mother tells him, “tastes sweeter than the red dates I put in your soup. My love is that savored first bite of spun sugar.” When the boy asks, “Does it make a sound?” his mother replies, “Sometimes it’s crisp like winter radish. Other times it’s quiet like simmering broth.”
Michelle Lee’s colored pencil and gouache illustrations are sweet and soft. Through images of swirling fish, delicate cranes and a fabulous crimson dragon, she brings a touch of magic to Sze’s tale. The ritual of the family meal—sharing food that’s been prepared with care and intention—adds a unique layer to the story and underscores the sense of abundance and comfort that love can provide. My Love for You Is Always closes on a cozy note and an image of mother, son and other relatives gathered together for dinner. From start to finish, it’s a charming and delicious tale.
l’ll Meet You in Your Dreams
Jessica Young and Rafael López pay tribute to the connections between parents and children in their lovely, lyrical book, l’ll Meet You in Your Dreams. It’s narrated by a parent who offers an inspiring message about the power of familial love to encourage youngsters to make discoveries about the world, pursue their passions and achieve independence.
Young’s rhyming text contains refreshing imagery and makes allusions to the natural world—a mouse and a mole snuggling in an underground den, and a hawk and an eagle soaring over the earth—to highlight the many facets of love, showing how it can nurture, protect and inspire. Her brief, uplifting stanzas add to the story’s appeal. “As you grow, I’ll be with you, / for every step, your whole life through,” the narrator says. “And where the future gleams . . . / I’ll meet you in your dreams.”
López’s out-of-this-world illustrations reflect the buoyant spirit of Young’s text. They follow two different parents and their children in whimsical scenes that capture the marvels of wildlife and the passage of time. A joyful examination of parental love and its ability to provide a solid foundation for children—a starting point from which anything is possible—I’ll Meet You in Your Dreams is a precious title that’s sure to become a family favorite.
The best picture books of 2021 demonstrate how impactful the form can be. They’re master classes in the interplay of text, image and the magic of the page turn, tiny treasures to savor and return to again and again.
As you read this enchanting ode to the calm and peaceful magic of nature, you’ll feel as though you have journeyed deep into Mosswood Forest alongside Hazel and her friends.
This gentle, moving story reminds us that shyness and courage can coexist. Min’s sweet characters and luminous artwork underscore her book’s hopeful nature and quiet, supportive heart.
7. Keep Your Head Up by Aliya King Neil, illustrated by Charly Palmer
Neil’s touching portrait of a child doing his best to manage a difficult day is expertly enhanced by Palmer’s powerful, impressionistic illustrations.
Like all the best childhood memories of loved ones, When Lola Visits feels familiar, friendly and faded to perfection. It’s a little hazy with age, and a little more shimmery for the haze.
This tender, spunky tale of a couple whose house is overrun by 456 chickens is the year’s most bighearted picture book.
3. Watercress by Andrea Wang, illustrated by Jason Chin
Wang’s childhood memory of picking watercress by the side of the road serves as the inspiration for this emotional powerhouse of a picture book.
2. Unspeakable by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Floyd Cooper
This extraordinary account of the Tulsa Race Massacre is a reminder of “the responsibility we all have to reject hatred and violence and to instead choose hope.”
1. Wishes, by Mượn Thị Văn, illustrated by Victo Ngai
This powerful picture book illuminates the closely held wishes of refugees the world over. Its spare, lyrical text and cinematic illustrations are simply unforgettable.
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.
The Sally of the title, a black Labrador retriever, is a real dog. As notes included with the book tell it, she was originally trained to be a Seeing Eye dog but didn’t find her niche in that role. Eventually the well-known artist Stephen Huneck and his wife Gwen adopted Sally. She is featured in a chapel that Huneck is building for dogs atop Dog Mountain, on his farm in Vermont. And now, with Sally Goes to the Beach, she has her own book. Any preschool age child will find the illustrations striking, beautiful woodcuts charming. So will adults. Sally was lucky in the choice of artist to portray her. Stephen Huneck’s sculptures, paintings, and woodcuts hang in a number of museum collections, including the Smithsonian’s. In the tradition of the graceful and evocative medium of woodcut, which dates back for many centuries, Huneck’s line is elegant and his colors vibrant in this lovely and warm-hearted picture book.
Sally narrates her own story. From her first sight of the suitcase that alerts her to an imminent journey, through the ride in a convertible (whose license plate reads SALLY), to the ferry ride and cab ride, Sally convincingly doggish gets as much fun out of going to the beach as she does in being at the beach.
But then there are the great joys of new smells, playing in the ocean, riding in a boat (named Friendship), and encountering the not always welcoming creatures of the beach. In the beachside hut that evening, Sally lies in bed with her master and ends her story with the motto of most children (and probably of most dogs): I cannot wait for tomorrow!
The Sally of the title, a black Labrador retriever, is a real dog. As notes included with the book tell it, she was originally trained to be a Seeing Eye dog but didn't find her niche in that role. Eventually the well-known artist Stephen Huneck…
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.
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.
Sign Up
Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.
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.
“Family vacation” takes on a new meaning for grown children without kids of their own—like the couple trying their best to keep both sets of in-laws happy in Weike Wang’s Rental House.
