Big-eyed and bandaged-tailed, Mouse seems destined for a life of solitude, unheard and unseen by the other animals. That is, until he decides to ask someone very grand for advice. A lion could give him a stronger voice. A lion could teach him to stand taller. A lion could EAT HIM. Can Mouse muster the courage to be big? An energetic and heartening story, The Lion Inside brings to mind classic children’s fables, while still feeling fresh and honest.

Love Monster series author Rachel Bright uses Seuss-like rhymes and rhythms to create a story with momentum and excitement. In another nod to Seuss, Bright throws in the occasional made-up word (my favorite is “tinyful”), which further adds to its charm. Full of descriptive language and visually accented by oversize, exuberant text, The Lion Inside makes for a fun read-aloud for both the reader and the audience.

The second half of this storytime gem is Jim Field, illustrator of Cats Ahoy! and Frog on a Log? Field uses a variety of perspectives (a mouse-eye view up the lion’s nostrils, the lion surveying his domain) to pull the reader into the story. Expressive, big-eyed rhinos, musk oxen, warthogs and lemurs inhabit Field’s world, giving us a sense that we’re eavesdropping on one tiny feature of their enduring world. With vibrantly colored pages, vast grassland vistas and intriguing details, Field’s illustrations will stand out on the bookshelf.

No matter the size of your storytime, be it one child or 50, this story and message is big enough to delight everyone.

Author-illustrator Juana Medina, originally from Colombia and the artist for Doreen Cronin’s endearing Smick! (2015), brings readers found-object art—with fruits and veggies, no less—in this appealing new counting book for young readers.

Found-object art is created from objects not normally considered art, such as (in this case) Romaine lettuce and radishes. Mmm. Each uncluttered spread—there’s generous white space at each page turn—features one of Medina’s object drawings with the numbers (from one to 10) shown numerically and spelled out for readers. One avocado becomes a deer; two radishes become mice; three peppers become monkeys; five tomatoes of various shades become Tomato Turtles; and so on. Medina’s simple, relaxed black lines flesh out what the objects don’t convey. Six sets of cucumbers become the eyes of six alligators, for instance, and her assured lines bring the rest of their bodies to life.

Medina manages to convey a surprising amount of emotion with these minimalistic creations: The Radicchio Lions seem pensive and shy; the alligators’ googly cucumber eyes are goofy and funny in the best possible way; and the Clementine Kitties seem confident and aloof, as cats are wont to be. She also knows when to stop drawing: The Pepper Monkeys have no lines for mouths but look no less like the busy monkeys they are, given the sinewy arms and legs with which Medina endows them, as they fly from (unseen) branch to branch. Walnuts even become birds in Medina’s world with just a few lines for wings, beaks and appendages. Yes, flying walnuts. She makes it work.

It all culminates in “one big delicious salad.” Children will delight in the counting and may be inspired to create their own found-object art, culinary-themed or not.

Dinner is served! And counting from one to 10 was never so delicious.

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

Nighttime falls, and the villains from storybooks are tired and need to rest. Good Night, Baddies, written by Deborah Underwood and illustrated by Juli Kangas, delights with a fanciful take on what monsters and “baddies” do at night.

Fairy-tale creatures such as giants, wicked witches, big bad wolves, evil queens, dragons and trolls begin their evening at home by amicably sharing a civilized dinner, while chatting about their daily activities of blowing down houses or making poisoned apples. After dinner, these classic nasties go through regular bedtime routines of politely taking turns in the bathroom, having cleansing bubble baths and brushing their teeth.

Things get a little hairy when the giant is afraid that there might be a princess under his bed, but the witches check it out and give the all clear. A dragon relaxes with a glass of milk, kindly offered by a troll, and all the rogues like to read before bed.

Most of Kangas’ illustrations are vibrantly rendered in primary colors, but the baddies’ pajamas are in softer hues with comfy stripes, checks, hearts, polka dots and flowers. Several creatures have security items like blankies or stuffed animals. The overall effect is whimsical and charming, and not at all scary.

Children will enjoy the humorous text and rhythm of the book’s rhyming couplets. When kids recognize the “baddies” in this story from other tales, their enjoyment of Good Night, Baddies will soar. After all, even “baddies” have friends and can act differently at home.

Here in the States, we picture book readers often get to see imports from overseas, but Taro Gomi’s Over the Ocean is one we’re seeing nearly 40 years after its original publication in 1979.

On pages featuring a palette of cool teal and copper hues, readers see the same girl as from the cover, always from behind, standing with her hands clasped behind her back. She never moves from her spot on the shore, as she stares out across the vast ocean. We also see a ship moving its way across the water (with the exception of the title page and final page), far out from the girl’s spot on the sand.

The girl wonders what is over the ocean. Are there big farms? Cities full of tall buildings? She imagines children on the other side, living in small houses; animals she has perhaps never seen; a child sleeping under a sky full of stars; and more. In the end, she wonders if there is a beach, right on the other side, just like hers. She wonders, “Is someone walking along it?” Could someone be standing there, just as she is, looking out at her? The book is dominated by these questions but wraps up with a wish—that she could travel and see. Here, in the book’s final illustration, she imagines herself in a hot air balloon. She’s finally over the ocean itself, instead of standing at its edge. No longer left to wonder, in her mind’s eye she is out in the world, ready to explore.

Yet, the reader gets the sense that the wondering alone will suffice for now. She has the abundant curiosity of a child, and Gomi gives her an authentic child’s voice, straightforward and vulnerable. In one spread, the girl wonders if the children on the other side of the world are friends, noting, “I bet there are probably some bullies.”

This story makes for smooth sailing and good reading, especially for contemplative children, filled with questions about the wider world. 

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

What happens when you mistake a beehive for a soccer ball? Nancy and her dog, Douglas, enjoy all sorts of adventures until a disastrous game of fetch makes it obvious that Douglas, You Need Glasses! With this picture book that’s a glorious romp from start to finish, kids and parents alike will enjoy sharing a lighthearted look at Douglas’ serious vision problem, which gets him into pickles galore.

Douglas is a good-natured, grinning canine who gleefully chases leaves instead of squirrels, walks right through barriers and signs warning of wet cement, and even ends up at the neighbor’s house, woefully unaware that anything is amiss. Nancy, his take-charge young owner, eventually hauls her pooch into the optician’s office, which will prompt many more readers’ chuckles as Douglas miserably fails the vision test and tries on a creative array of glasses frames.

Ged Adamson’s pencil-and-watercolor illustrations are bursting with colorful energy and personality; he is a master at simply conveying a myriad of facial expressions, bringing his cartoon-like characters to life. Look carefully at his attention to details, such as the cement on Douglas’ paws that leave footprints on page after page.

Adamson cleverly includes an ending spread featuring photos of children wearing glasses, and encourages readers to post photos of themselves wearing glasses on his Twitter page. Whether young readers need glasses or not, this optical celebration will leave them yearning for a pair of their own.

BookPage Children's Top Pick, June 2016

In her latest picture book, Lynne Rae Perkins celebrates the bond between a dog and his boy, while also celebrating the love of learning. 

Frank’s spectacularly bad day gets better when his parents take him to a shelter to get a new dog, and the day also improves significantly for Lucky the dog when Frank and his family show up to give him a new home and a better life. With that, a dynamic duo is born.

Both boy and dog have a lot to learn. “Lucky went to his school ten times,” Perkins writes. “Frank went to his school thousands of times. . . . Lucky did a lot of learning on his own.” It’s after this that Perkins launches into the kind of learning the boy and dog do in their daily lives—learning that is the inherent part of a curious child’s (and pet’s) day. There’s Science (exploring nature), Chemistry (cleaning your dog when he gets ticks while exploring nature), Math (Lucky attempts to maximize the number of biscuits he can get from his humans), Geography (readers see Frank on a map as he looks for Lucky, who gets lost while exploring), Spanish (Frank makes a new bilingual friend while trying to locate Lucky) and much more. 

Perkins’ textured illustrations, rendered via pen and ink and watercolors, use small panels on some spreads to break up the action, and this sets the pace for a detailed yet never hurried tale. Perkins takes advantage of every moment to launch her story, with illustrations that begin on the copyright page, before the readers even get to the first spread. The joy is in all these details—and in the seamless way Perkins shows the sheer amount of information boy and dog take in while enjoying each other’s company and exploring their worlds. Never once does the author get in the way of the story. 

Informative and entertaining, Frank and Lucky Get Schooled is an A+ picture book in every way.

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

Illustrations © 2016 by Lynne Rae Perkins. Reprinted with permission from HarperCollins Children's Books.

This article was originally published in the June 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

The Michigan backyard of wildlife photographers Carl R. Sams II and Jean Stoick appears to be a busy place, full of deer, doves, turkeys and squirrels. Best known for their 1999 picture book, Stranger in the Woods, the husband-and-wife team transforms their stunning nature photography into beloved children’s books by imagining the sweet, funny dialogue between different woodland creatures.

In their latest book, A Magical Winter, the forest animals anticipate the arrival of another stranger. Against a backdrop of freshly fallen snow, the animals squabble over the mysterious creature until it finally arrives: an all-white, blue-eyed deer that appears to be made of snow. But Mother Doe kindly lets everyone know there’s no reason to worry: “He’s one of my three fawns. He is not made of snow . . . he is not going to melt.” When a white turkey also appears, the animals wonder if their woods are enchanted, which is a good reason to celebrate. They parade and party until spring; after all, parties are more fun when everyone is accepted, regardless of physical differences.

Children will love discovering the magic of this backyard, while dreaming up stories for their own.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Picture books about collective nouns for animal groups have been done before. You could say this is what Lane Smith’s new book is about, but delightfully it is much more. 

A boy in the wild is dressed in leaves and has no family or friends in sight. He wanders the landscape and meets animals—an army of caterpillars, a troop of monkeys, etc. The names for animal collectives are unusual ones, indeed, and Smith opts for the terms not as commonly used—a turn of turtles, a smack of jellyfish and an unkindness of ravens. Smith uses these delicious words to further the plot (the unkindness of ravens unkindly drop the boy, once again alone, on a formation of rocks). Even the book’s title refers to a name for a group of baby goats that is lesser known; most often we hear “a herd of kids,” not “tribe.” 

But herein lies the brilliance of Smith’s story: Instead of just listing unusual names for animal collectives, he brings readers a touching tale of family and belonging. The book opens with the lonely boy playing with a group of young goats, and bringing “tribe” full circle, he eventually stumbles upon a group of other wild folks. No longer will he wander alone. Cleverly, Smith makes effective use of tense in the book: All the sentences are in past tense until the boy meets his fellow humans. No more “was.” Now, “there is a tribe of kids” and there is a newfound family. The illustrations—textured mixed-media art that makes economic use of space to show the progression of time—are spectacular. 

It’s a story that is, at turns, funny and moving—and always entertaining. It’s not to be missed.

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

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Just steps from the subway stop, a single leaf leads two children on an adventure into the wild—both far away and tucked into their own backyard. Readers—particularly those who love bustling cities but harbor a secret admiration for ditch dandelions and resolute climbing ivy—will find their attention captured from the first beckoning willow branches in Finding Wild.

Megan Wagner Lloyd makes an imagery-filled entrance into the publishing scene as she taps into the collective nostalgia we humans share: the desire to climb mountains and dive into clear lakes, the urge to take shelter from thunder. Lloyd’s bold, imaginative words and alliteration collide in an invitation to feel, smell and taste.

Abigail Halpin’s illustrations are distinctive and energetic, transporting us into the beauty—and danger—of nature. Pages unfurl with shades of green, and a jam-packed cityscape bursts with rushing color. A scrapbook-type collage taunts with bees and scorpions, sticker plants and stingers. Little eyes will keep busy finding tucked-away birds and branch-disguised snakes. The initial leaf makes periodic appearances, lending a sense of continuity and flow, even while the children journey through a variety of landscapes.

An enchanting storytime book, Finding Wild is also a delightful gift for anyone with an affinity for determined city blossoms and wide, green spaces. It would also be a delightful addition to any curriculum on descriptive writing. 

Finding Wild reminds us that wild beauty persists in the busiest of cities, even in our bustling urban lives.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

We never seem to tire of tales about leaving home and adventuring far from our loved ones. From the bear’s first awkwardly pawed notes, The Bear and the Piano reminds us that, while we may travel, we never lose where we have been.  

Bear’s life would have been typically bear-like, had a piano not appeared in the forest one day. Bear’s music skills grow and grow, taking him all the way to Broadway. In New York City he is an instant celebrity, performing for enthusiastic crowds and meeting new friends. The glow of the city is all he had imagined—until he begins to dream of home. Will Bear return? And what will he find there? 

Populated by kind-faced animals and people, David Litchfield’s illustrations create a welcoming and beautiful world. The soft colors and white swirls that adorn the forest make it seem as though it’s in constant musical movement. Bear is a tranquil protagonist, which lets us easily step into his shoes (or tuxedo) and imagine ourselves onstage. The text is calm and evenly paced, making it perfect for bedtime, as well as for pensive young minds that might ponder the enormity of “someday” decisions. 

The Bear and the Piano starts and ends on the same perfect note.

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Twenty Yawns, the debut picture book from Pulitzer Prize-winning author Jane Smiley, is the story of one child’s day. Smiley is paired with Caldecott Honor artist Lauren Castillo here, and the results are spectacular. 

Readers meet Lucy and her family—a loving, mixed-race trio—in the early morning at the beach. The long, fun day wears out the entire family, and everyone else is asleep when Lucy gets up from the bed to retrieve her favorite toy, Molasses the bear. As she grabs her bear, many of her other stuffed animals fall to the floor. Eventually, they all end up in her bed. “They seemed lonely,” after all.

A child wandering through the house at night, when everyone else has fallen asleep, is mesmerizing subject matter for young readers; think of Jonathan Bean’s At Night (2007) or Komako Sakai’s Hannah’s Night (published in the U.S. in 2014). This endearing story is a delightful addition to the theme. 

The book’s title reflects the 20 yawns placed throughout, and children will have fun counting them. The “yawns” are laid out in playful, colorful typography that never intrudes upon the story. Castillo uses thick outlines for her characters, and she makes use of full-bleed spreads, as well as spot illustrations on white pages, to expertly pace the story. Her artwork is textured, and intriguing patterns dominate the family’s home, particularly in Lucy’s bedroom. 

Lucy’s world is one of warmth and security (even when everyone’s dozing), which makes this a winning bedtime read.

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

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

A long car ride to Grandma’s is much wilder than usual in Caldecott Medalist Dan Santat’s hilarious new picture book. Below the cover’s title line, a family sits miserably in their car—but above it, our far-from-bored young hero rides on a giant T. rex, surrounded by cavorting pirates, cowboys and pyramid builders, while Mom and Dad gape out the window, horrified.

Going to Grandma’s birthday party sounds like fun, but sitting in the back seat for miles is mind numbing, and the view out the car window is anything but scintillating. Mom and Dad are annoyed as the much-dreaded question emanates from the back seat, “Are we there yet?” Of course, the answer to that question depends on where you’re going, and this clever take on a familiar lament stretches the reader’s imagination—even questioning the proper way to hold a book, and which way to turn a page. The reader’s orientation switches from page to page as the sights become more fantastical.

Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like days, and days become years. Before we know it, the car ride has taken the reader back to the days of the dinosaurs. As we savor the excitement of the moment, we’re vaulted into the future. Santat’s dynamic and captivating illustrations remind us that there is no greater gift in life than the present, so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

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

Young readers get to “build a book” with Japanese illustrator Kaori Takahashi’s unusually designed Knock! Knock!

It’s true that readers build this story in more ways than one, since it’s a book folded inside a tiny slipcase. Readers pull out the book and unfold the story page by page. It’s book architecture, if you will (wording the publisher likes to use). Fortunately, the way to physically, literally unfold the story is intuitive for young children. On the first “page,” a girl knocks on a door, saying “I’m home!” This unfolds to the right. She can’t find her bear and begins her search. She looks out the window, and readers immediately see that for the story to progress, the entire book must be lifted up. There, we see her knocking on a neighbor’s door, seeking her bear. Each door-knocking illustration is rendered in gray hues, yet when she enters the apartment of a neighbor, the world opens up in color, readers getting a view of various homes. The book, as we go along, climbs up and up (always folding right and up, left and up, and so on), revealing an apartment complex. Indeed, each “page” has red bricks in between.

There are surreal, delightful surprises along the way: One apartment is submerged in water, and sea creatures swim. In another, a forest grows. In one, we see a man who is hiding a Santa Claus outfit. The girl eventually finds her bear on the roof (look closely, and you’ll see a flying human in a cape!), and then the story heads down, unfolding back to its beginning. This part of the book is a series of steps, and it reads quickly. All in all, the pace works smashingly in this story, perfect for more tactile learners and children who love to build.

Be sure to knock and take a look inside. This one is a satisfying and truly inviting surprise. 

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