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Captain Alfred, farmer and small-ship captain, sets sail with a happy heart, his fiddle to brighten the journey and one special duck egg aboard. As you might predict, his trip is interrupted by an enormous and terrible storm, casting the captain and his ducks to sea. His beloved fiddle is lost to the waves, and all that remains is the egg—now hatching—in the fiddle case. Alfred Fiddleduckling is born into a solitary, foggy world. When the fiddle floats by, Alfred Fiddleduckling discovers the sound of friendship and hope as he clings to his new friend. He found music; will anybody find him?

Timothy Basil Ering (illustrator of The Tale of Despereaux) has a knack for expressively illustrated, slightly bizarre tales with endearing characters and deep messages. Like The Story of Frog Belly Rat Bone, Alfred Fiddleduckling’s tale is quirky and charming, and guaranteed to become a favorite.

With art that is both ethereal and tangible, Ering knows exactly what each scene needs and how to pull a reader’s focus.The stunningly fierce storm engulfs the reader with lightning, as Ering’s hurried brush strokes are visible and powerful in the whitecaps. Colorful, vague swirls depict music in the air, light and feathery against the fog. Captain Alfred’s wife’s anxiously clasped hands tell us of her long, fearful wait for her husband. While his illustrations stand alone, Ering’s narration adds a layer of emotion and personification that makes this book feel like a fable. Detailed and descriptive, one could imagine retelling this story—sans pictures—by the fireplace.

By the time Alfred Fiddleduckling’s story closes, readers will be enchanted by this tale of friendship and adventure, of compassion and courage. But what remains after the last page is the beautiful, swirling music, heartening and calming, beckoning us home again.

Captain Alfred, farmer and small-ship captain, sets sail with a happy heart, his fiddle to brighten the journey and one special duck egg aboard. As you might predict, his trip is interrupted by an enormous and terrible storm, casting the captain and his ducks to sea. His beloved fiddle is lost to the waves, and all that remains is the egg—now hatching—in the fiddle case. Alfred Fiddleduckling is born into a solitary, foggy world. When the fiddle floats by, Alfred Fiddleduckling discovers the sound of friendship and hope as he clings to his new friend. He found music; will anybody find him?

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In this tender story, author-illustrator Matthew Cordell doesn’t waste any time or space to spin the tale of two lost creatures and an act of kindness. Before we even get to the title page, we meet a girl and a wolf cub, as well as their families.

As the girl heads home at the end of the school day, the snow is falling hard. She’s well equipped in her big, red coat, but the windy weather weighs her down on her walk to her warm house where her parents wait. In a parallel story, we see a group of wolves head out, yet the youngest of the pack falls behind. On one spread, two large spot illustrations show the weary young girl and the lost and confused wolf cub, each slowed down by the snow.

Eventually, they meet, and both are frightened. But the girl immediately reaches out to help, hearing the wolf’s family howling in the distance. Bravely, she ventures toward them in order to return their cub, facing her fair share of dangers along the way. In another spread with two large circular spot illustrations, we see the girl, wolf cub in her arms and her eyes wide with fear, face off with a parent wolf. The girl releases the cub, and the parent takes the baby away. On her tired journey home, she collapses in the snow, and in a kindness returned, the wolves surround her, howling her location to the search party. Cordell wraps up the story by showing the girl safe and warm in her home.

The pacing here is spot-on, the tension building with each page turn. In these nearly wordless spreads (we are only privy to such things as howls, barks, huffs and whines), Cordell builds great sympathy for both creatures, and he conveys more about the girl’s courage with body language, tone and color than any lengthy text could. The illustration showing the happy reunited human family in the snow, as well as the howling wolf pack atop the hill above them, is heartwarming and emotionally rewarding.

This one’s a keeper. 

 

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

In this tender story, author-illustrator Matthew Cordell doesn’t waste any time or space to spin the tale of two lost creatures and an act of kindness. Before we even get to the title page, we meet a girl and a wolf cub, as well as their families.

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Egg begins, as you might expect, with four brightly colored eggs. Three eggs hatch, and three brightly colored baby birds emerge: pink, yellow and blue. The fourth egg, of a reptilian-green shade, is in less of a hurry. The eager baby birds help their sibling along, their beaks eventually breaking the shell. But what emerges is slightly less than feathery and fluttery . . . and slightly more green and crawly. We begin with four eggs; will we end with four friends?

Deceptively simple (a trademark of Kevin Henkes), Egg proves entertaining and useful on multiple levels. Henkes’ characters stand out against a plain-white background, which focuses attention on their expressions. A talented illustrator, Henkes is able to convey facial expression and emotions with very few lines. Egg has minimal text, which allows readers to ad-lib, while repetition of simple words helps new readers practice sight words and phonics. Counting and colors will amuse the tiniest readers, while one page provides a very early look at synonyms. And, as with many of Henkes’ books, there is an underlying theme—albeit very simple—of acceptance and friendship and bravery.

Henkes is the recipient of both the Caldecott and Newbery Honors, with the rare ability to write across age groups. His longer stories (Chrysanthemum, Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse) are classics for young readers. His calm, boldly illustrated stories like Kitten’s First Full Moon are perfect bedtime tales.

Whether you read every word and name the birds, look at the pictures or make up your own tale, Henkes’ Egg is a delightful addition to any bookshelf.

Egg begins, as you might expect, with four brightly colored eggs. Three eggs hatch, and three brightly colored baby birds emerge: pink, yellow and blue. The fourth egg, of a reptilian-green shade, is in less of a hurry. The eager baby birds help their sibling along, their beaks eventually breaking the shell. But what emerges is slightly less than feathery and fluttery . . . and slightly more green and crawly. We begin with four eggs; will we end with four friends?

Henri is just a little caterpillar, a role that comes with its own set of limitations. He moves slowly and is unlikely to ever see much of the world beyond the garden gate. Regardless, he dreams big and longs for adventure.

His friends discourage him. They like having Henri around, safe and sound. Slug is particularly negative, questioning the seriousness of Henri’s desire for travel. “Sounds exhausting,” Slug says.

But Henri is determined, and his friend Toad understands the importance of chasing one’s dreams. New friends come to his aid, as Bird gladly helps him over the garden wall. Mole and Henri tunnel beneath the busy road, and Fish carries him across the lake. Henri has traveled far, and when he spots a giant hot air balloon, he knows his great adventure is about to begin.

Sadly, before Henri can wiggle to the top of the balloon and see the whole wide world, something happens and he is stuck, sadly stuck, inside a cocoon. His adventure will never happen now, or will it? Something changes while he sleeps in the warm, dark place, and Henri awakens with wings! Yet with the whole world open to him, he flies back to the best place of all—his garden home.

Each page of Clive McFarland’s Caterpillar Dreams delights readers with a colorful collage of images. Little Henri has personality to spare, and preschoolers and their parents will enjoy taking a romp with this bright-eyed, determined caterpillar.

 

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

Henri is just a little caterpillar, a role that comes with its own set of limitations. He moves slowly and is unlikely to ever see much of the world beyond the garden gate. Regardless, he dreams big and longs for adventure.

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A Greyhound, a Groundhog opens with a swirly gray oval that, on the next page, transforms itself into “A hound. A round hound. A greyhound.” A similarly oblong hole soon reveals “A hog. A round hog. A groundhog.” The lithe greyhound and the chubby groundhog stretch—and we’re off! Emily Jenkins’ rhythmic text accompanies Chris Appelhans’ whirling illustrations as these two surprising playmates engage in a spirited romp “around and around and around and around” in a pastel-hued meadow. They pause to marvel at a new discovery, only to take up the chase once more.

Jenkins’ dedication credits Ruth Knauss’ A Very Special House for the text’s inspiration and rhythmic feel. The playful, circular repetition also may remind readers of the modern classic Orange Pear Apple Bear by Emily Gravett. Appelhans’ joyful watercolor and pencil illustrations perfectly capture the motion and freedom of the chase, as near-abstract shapes convey the pair’s speed. The carefully controlled palette, in shades of gray, brown, pink and purple, reflects the similarly restrained vocabulary, perfect for young listeners and brand-new readers.

Words and pictures turn around one another, much like the two animal friends whose antics they capture so delightfully.

 

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

A Greyhound, a Groundhog opens with a swirly gray oval that, on the next page, transforms itself into “A hound. A round hound. A greyhound.” A similarly oblong hole soon reveals “A hog. A round hog. A groundhog.”

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It may be only January, but at year’s end, we’ll look back on this picture book as one of 2017’s funniest.

On the book’s title page spread, we see an ox traipsing along, sniffing a rose, and in the sky the clouds form the dramatic image of a graceful gazelle. Yep, Ox is smitten. Thus this epistolary story begins. Ox sits in his bedroom, an image of the beautiful gazelle on his wall, and writes his first letter, declaring his love for her in no uncertain terms. The entire book consists of their correspondence brought to life in Scott Campbell’s earth-toned, relaxed-line illustrations, though the gazelle’s first two letters—because she is such a stah, dahling—are impersonal form letters. Ox, however, doesn’t seem to notice: “This is an amazing coincidence! I have written you two letters, and both times you have written back using the exact same words!”

There’s so much humor here, all of it in Adam Rex’s trademark gloriously understated style. When Gazelle writes (clearly fishing for compliments) that she has many faults, Ox naively responds that she really has only one or two. When she scolds him, he responds with heartfelt thanks, calling her the “unflattering light of my life.” His intentions may be sincere, but he unknowingly stumbles with his words and she becomes exasperated. Love conquers all, though—even narcissism. Gazelle falls for Ox in a deliciously mysterious open ending, in the form of an unfinished letter. The final endpapers show the happy couple in a series of spot illustrations.

This is a book to fall in love with.

 

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

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

It may be only January, but at year’s end, we’ll look back on this picture book as one of 2017’s funniest.

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Adèle and Simon hit the road again! They previously explored America and Paris, but they are now headed to China to visit their photographer uncle, Sidney. This is the China of more than a century ago, allowing today’s children a trip of their own.

First stop is Hong Kong, where Sidney takes the two youngsters on a shopping spree. Simon gets a hat, a jacket, a knapsack, a flute and many other items while Adèle opts for one large gift: a camera so she can record her journey just like her uncle. Readers familiar with this series knows what is to come: Adèle will write postcards home to “Dear Mama” and Simon will lose an object at each stop. At the Shanghai silk farm, he loses the yellow scarf. Careful readers will pore over each detailed, colorful pen-and-ink illustration to find the missing object. Older eyes will undoubtedly have to search longer and harder than young eyes, but no matter the age of the searcher, it’s great fun to finally locate the missing item. (This time the scarf is in the mouth of a dog.) On each page, the search is made more challenging by the artist’s color choices; the missing yellow scarf is exactly the color that most of the people are wearing in this spread. Searching for the red abacus on the following scene means discerning it from the many sticks of candied apples that are the same red. Thankfully, McClintock provides a dandy picture of the items in Adèle’s early letter to Mama, and readers can flip back and forth to help remember what the objects look like. When Adèle develops her photos after the trip, she sees a record of each missing item.

McClintock also includes tiny thumbprint pictures with fascinating factual information of each spread in the backmatter, further adding to the fun for older readers and adults. Many children learn Chinese at school these days, and it’s easy to see teachers using this picture book in class, even with much older students. The historical information, maps and thumbnail guide to this enormous country will certainly fascinate any child with an interest in China. While comparisons to Where’s Waldo? are inevitable, Adelé and Simon’s journeys are much more interesting, encouraging readers of all ages time to slow down and read the detailed pictures. Repeated visits will reveal more and more details—eye candy at its very best! 

Adèle and Simon hit the road again! They previously explored America and Paris, but they are now headed to China to visit their photographer uncle, Sidney. This is the China of more than a century ago, allowing today’s children a trip of their own.

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Resisting bedtime is a rite of childhood; we are all experts at delay tactics, procrastination methods and just-one-more-drink-of-water tales. Into the world of bedtime books comes It Is Not Time for Sleeping by Lisa Graff, illustrated by Lauren Castillo. Offering an alternative to exhausted parents and stalling, Graff and Castillo help children ease into bedtime with routine and rhyme.

Most adults use the evening to transition into bed: We have things to check off our lists before our minds can rest; it’s the same for kids. It may be nearing time for bed, the yawns may be enormous, but bedtime doesn’t come until after baths are completed, teeth are brushed, favorite pajamas put on, stories are read. Even then, there is one final thing that is the most important of all.

Graff is clearly an expert on children, providing details that would feel extremely important to little ones. Perfect as a final bedtime story, Graff’s calm repetition of the completed tasks helps kids slow down and relax, putting their energetic minds at ease.

Castillo’s illustrations are bright and boldly colored, echoing a world of crayons and toys. The playful nature and silliness will initially engage little readers, and sleepy little ones will be reassured by its familiarity, With our narrator at last in bed, the colors and lights dim as the story nears the end.

If it’s nearing time for bed—but not quite—It Is Not Time for Sleeping might be just what your bedtime routine needs. Just don’t forget the goodnight kiss. 

Resisting bedtime is a rite of childhood; we are all experts at delay tactics, procrastination methods and just-one-more-drink-of-water tales. Into the world of bedtime books comes It Is Not Time for Sleeping by Lisa Graff, illustrated by Lauren Castillo. Offering an alternative to exhausted parents and stalling, Graff and Castillo help children ease into bedtime with routine and rhyme.

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As the city first wakes, the sky is still dark, the moon still glimmers and quiet still lingers. In Good Morning, City, author Pat Kiernan shows readers the hustle and bustle that quickly take over the city, even in the early hours before dawn. As a morning news anchor for New York’s cable news channel NY1, Kiernan is an authority on waking and observing the city before first light.

Beginning with bakers preparing fresh bread, the story continues with other important activities that start the day and the people who perform them. From the ferryboat captain and construction worker to the police officer directing commuting drivers and waitress taking hungry diners’ orders, the homes, streets and businesses progressively become more active.

Descriptions of a city wouldn’t be complete without its varied sounds, so Kiernan includes the tooting of ferryboats and the smashing of garbage trucks. Pascal Campion’s digitally enhanced artwork captures the sights of the city. The blues and purples of pre-dawn give way to mauves and pinks and then yellows and oranges as the sun rises and shines.

Also waking as sunshine floods her room is a little girl and her baby brother. More sights, sounds and even smells fill the morning as her dad makes breakfast. In a fitting conclusion, the girl’s family sits down to eat as an anchorman reads the news. After reading this story, children can’t help but notice how their own city awakes.

As the city first wakes, the sky is still dark, the moon still glimmers and quiet still lingers. In Good Morning, City, author Pat Kiernan shows readers the hustle and bustle that quickly take over the city, even in the early hours before dawn. As a morning news anchor for New York’s cable news channel NY1, Kiernan is an authority on waking and observing the city before first light.

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Gary is a racing pigeon, but for reasons unknown, he cannot fly. He dreams of adventure, just like the other racing pigeons, and he even keeps a scrapbook filled with travel mementos. He’s fond of listening to his friends, all clad in bright red racing uniforms, discuss “wind directions and flight paths” at dinner, and it is in this way that he is able to build the scrapbook.

One evening, Gary falls into a travel basket and is taken via a vehicle far into the city. He sees his friends race through the sky and then disappear. After he assumes he is stuck in the city forever, he remembers his scrapbook and uses what’s inside to successfully plot his way home.

Author-illustrator Leila Rudge, originally from England and now living in Australia, renders the story delicately in full-bleed, earth-toned spreads with consistent pastel blues on nearly every spread. The one where Gary imagines his route back home looks, fittingly, like a scrapbook page—with a stamp, bus ticket, train ticket, map and more. Rudge’s endpapers have the same mementos, inviting readers into Gary’s journey.

Ultimately, the other pigeons long to replicate the nature of Gary’s own adventure, and readers see that they’ve hopped on some mass transit at the story’s close to take a trip into the city. Passengers seem pleased to be sharing their space with the birds. Gary may be different—readers don’t know why he can’t fly (perhaps it’s a physical handicap or even an emotionally traumatic one)—but that doesn’t stop him from mastering his fears and having a grand adventure of his own. That he inspires his friends in the process is icing on the cake. After all, it was their memories he relied upon to create his vivid new ones.

This story passes with flying colors—a charmer through and through.

 

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

Gary is a racing pigeon, but for reasons unknown, he cannot fly. He dreams of adventure, just like the other racing pigeons, and he even keeps a scrapbook filled with travel mementos. He’s fond of listening to his friends, all clad in bright red racing uniforms, discuss “wind directions and flight paths” at dinner, and it is in this way that he is able to build the scrapbook.

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In the closing note of this contemplative picture book from the talented Newbery Honor-winning poet Joyce Sidman, the author notes that she constructed the text of the book in the form of an invocation, a “poem that invites something to happen, often asking for help or support.” She notes that humans have been putting invocations to use for a long time, and she prompts readers with a series of questions: Do they work? Can they comfort us? “What is it you wish for?”

What comes before is a spare, evocative poem, one in which an unnamed speaker asks for the sky to “fill with flurry and flight.” The speaker is asking for snow, and in the next few lines of her poem, Sidman brings the fluffy white stuff to life with fresh and vivid metaphors. The speaker longs for a kind of paralysis of the day—a slow but happy and white day of not having to go out and engage in the usual routines, a day that is changed and renewed by the weather, a day that cancels plans.

Caldecott Medalist Beth Krommes takes Sidman’s words and seamlessly extends them into the story of a young girl, whose mother is a pilot. Is this the girl’s wish? The father’s? Maybe even the mother’s? No matter, because either way the wish is granted: When the snowstorm prevents the girl’s mother from doing her day’s work, she heads home, back to her husband and daughter with some hugs, hot cocoa and pastries to boot. Many spreads, including the first two and final one, are wordless. Krommes’ scratchboard and watercolor illustrations are highly textured and patterned, and just as in the natural world, no two snowflakes are the same. Her spreads are busy but never overwhelming to the eye, and what she does with light and shadow in many of these evening scenes is spellbinding.

It’s a sweet, but never saccharine, tale of family—and so cozy in every possible way that readers will want to return to it again and again. Pair it with your best hot cocoa recipe. Read. Repeat. 

 

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

In the closing note of this contemplative picture book from the talented Newbery Honor-winning poet Joyce Sidman, the author notes that she constructed the text of the book in the form of an invocation, a “poem that invites something to happen, often asking for help or support.” She notes that humans have been putting invocations to use for a long time, and she prompts readers with a series of questions: Do they work? Can they comfort us? “What is it you wish for?”

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In her ambitious new picture book, Carson Ellis brings readers a story of optimism and renewal, featuring an invented language. They are words used by a world of talking insects to communicate their wonder over and admiration for a vibrant flower that appears where they make their home.

“Du is tak?” one damselfly asks another on the book’s first spread, as the two stare at a fledgling green shoot popping from the earth. “Ma nazoot” is the reply. Meanwhile, a hairy caterpillar hanging from a nearby branch waves goodbye to readers with a hearty “Ta ta!” and a big grin. The insects gather, gazing in fascination at the growing plant, and they eventually knock on the door of Icky, an elderly, bowler hat-wearing pill bug who watches as the insects, including some eager beetles, build a fort on the plant. Tragedy turns to triumph when a spider who has built a web on the plant is destroyed by a bird. Soon after the bugs rebuild their “furt,” a beautiful flower blossoms.

But since all living things must come to their end, the flower dies at the onset of winter. “Ta ta, furt.” On the next spread, readers are treated to a glorious nighttime scene, the plant withered and drooping, while a winged insect plays a dirge on his fiddle. The serenade takes place atop the cocoon—remember our retiring caterpillar?—only to reveal a soaring, triumphant moth on the next spread. Because life, after all, sometimes defies the odds and springs forth from destruction.

Ellis’ precise and detailed illustrations of bespectacled bugs and an elaborate fort utterly beguile. She never switches up her perspective, bringing readers the same location with her insects entering and exiting as if on stage. The colors are rich, and the inventive text is captivating, begging to be read repeatedly. It would be easy to make such a story clever for the sake of being clever, but instead Ellis has created one of the smartest, most original and most endearing picture books of this year.

Du iz tak? It’s a keeper is what it is. 

 

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

In her ambitious new picture book, Carson Ellis brings readers a story of optimism and renewal, featuring an invented language. They are words used by a world of talking insects to communicate their wonder over and admiration for a vibrant flower that appears where they make their home.

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There’s a bit of the Wild West spirit in all of us, even those of us who have never ridden a horse or slept by a campfire. Lingering in our blood, it’s a connection to the land, a compassion for the animals and people around us, a longing for wide skies and faraway stars. Written by Kate Hoefler and illustrated by Jonathan Bean, Real Cowboys strikingly echoes that spirit.

For many of us, cowboys are a thing of legends and old black-and-white movies; many little ones have never heard of a cattle drive. Real Cowboys is an ode to these men and women, a look back at an era very much gone, and also a cowboy primer for young readers. Simply and genuinely told, Real Cowboys covers all aspects of a cowboy’s tough life: lost cattle and fast dogs, blowing dust and prickly cactus plants, coyote songs and watchful nights.

Much like an unassuming, weatherworn cowboy telling a story, Hoefler unfolds the life of cowboys and cowgirls with simple, calm language. In some cases, her words are poetic and precise, and in others she lets the art speak and the imagination soar.

With art that is in turns colorful and muted, tumultuous and peaceful, artist Jonathan Bean perfectly captures the mood and the whims of the West. Bean masterfully captures not only dust storms and cattle drives, but also the moments of persistent, careful watching and lonely cowboy dreams. Vague, almost abstract, color-blocked shapes interlock, silhouettes pass through the background, making every spread a true Southwesterly work of art.

The perfect gift for the young and old cowboys in your life, Real Cowboys will have you heading west, even if only in your heart.

There’s a bit of the Wild West spirit in all of us, even those of us who have never ridden a horse or slept by a campfire. Lingering in our blood, it’s a connection to the land, a compassion for the animals and people around us, a longing for wide skies and faraway stars. Written by Kate Hoefler and illustrated by Jonathan Bean, Real Cowboys strikingly echoes that spirit.

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