Troy Andrews is a 29-year-old bandleader and jazz musician who has performed at the White House, the Grammys and with the likes of U2, Eric Clapton and Prince. He developed his own style of “SupaFunkRock” and, in a wonderful collaboration with award-winning illustrator Bryan Collier, shares his story in Trombone Shorty.

Addressing young readers in a warm, embracing style, Andrews integrates the sights and sounds of Tremé, his New Orleans neighborhood: “Anytime of the day or night, you could hear music floating in the air.”

Young Andrews begins by pretending to play instruments with his friends, and when the 4-year-old finds a broken trombone, his brother begins to call him Trombone Shorty. From that point on, “I took that trombone everywhere I went and never stopped playing. I was so small that sometimes I fell right over to the ground because it was so heavy.” In an exciting moment, Andrews’ young career takes off when he attends a Bo Diddley concert, and the famous musician calls him onstage to perform.

Collier’s magical pen-and-ink, watercolor and collage illustrations add perfect harmony to this memoir. In an informative illustrator’s note, he explains that he depicts “the sound of the music as beautiful colors and shapes that swirl out of Troy’s trombone.” Likewise, Andrews includes an author’s note that fleshes out his story and includes photographs of the budding musician.

Rarely do a picture book biography’s text, illustrations and endnotes unite so well to tell such an appealing, engrossing story. This book will no doubt speak to the soul of many young musicians waiting for their own turn to be called onstage.

Author-illustrator Emma Yarlett first caught my attention with her picture book Sidney, Stella, and the Moon, and now I can’t stop re-reading her newest offering, Orion and the Dark. One glance at the cover and my book-stuffed heart says, “Yay!” My instincts rarely fail, and neither does Yarlett.

Orion’s fears are myriad: dogs, deep water, monsters, plaid. But the most terrifying thing of all looms at the end of each day, hovering at the top of a steep climb up to Orion’s bed: the Dark. Despite his most creative solutions, bedtimes—and the Dark—are unavoidable. But delightfully, the Dark is less monstrous than Orion feared. Together, they explore and de-scary all the nighttime sounds and places, from closets and drains to ceiling fans and snoring.

Yarlett is the best kind of author-illustrator, incorporating exciting fonts into her whimsical images, pulling the reader in again and again. Her text is simple enough for young children, but clever asides will keep adults entertained. Quirky sketches and thought bubbles fill each colorful page to perfection. Best of all are two die-cut pages in which the Dark literally embraces Orion—and the reader’s imagination.

Night-shy children will find companionship in Orion and comfort in the Dark’s gentle, friendly appearance, while grown-up readers will invent excuses to keep this book on their own shelves.

This article was originally published in the April 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Fans of Deborah Freedman’s award-winning picture books, The Story of Fish and Snail and Blue Chicken, will delight in her innovative new title, which explores the creative efforts of a mouse writing a story. There’s only one problem: Mouse’s friend, Frog, wants to take part, too, and the two budding authors don’t always see eye-to-eye.

This is a tale of imagination gone wild, as Frog excitedly takes over Mouse’s story. A simple beginning—“Once upon a time Mouse woke up early and set the table for tea”—is hijacked by enthusiastic Frog. Soon Mouse’s story, and the pages of this delicious book, are packed with a king, “elevendy-seven” colorful flavors of ice cream and a myriad of friends arriving to partake of the feast. Like an engineer applying the brakes to a runaway train, Mouse finally cries, “Stop! This story is a mess!”

Repentant and still eager to help, Frog is able to slow down, listen to Mouse and ask helpful questions. Eventually, the two friends find a way to work together to create a new and different story, this one By Mouse and Frog.

A former architect, Freedman brings humor, energy and charm to her characters, making their predicament and their creative efforts feel real. And while young children can learn skills of collaboration and teamwork, parents may find themselves wanting to bring a copy to work where certain co-workers might see it. After all, just like Frog, we sometimes all need a little reminder to be better listeners.

Fans of the award-winning Open This Little Book will be drawn to the exuberant Inside This Book by author-illustrator Barney Saltzberg. It’s a testament to the robust imagination of children, as well as the very notion of self-publishing.

A boy named Seymour has written a story that is printed on smaller pages within the book that readers hold in their hands. Seymour’s story is all about how his mother created for him and his siblings some books with blank pages. Seymour watches the world around him and fills his book with stories and observations. Next up, printed on even smaller pages, is his sister Fiona’s story. Dominated by purples, it is filled with art and poetry, her two favorite things. She also shares a poem she’s written about her dog before she runs out of room. Finally, their youngest sibling, Wilbur, shares his book on even smaller paper. It’s illustrated in what appears to be crayon, and the sentences are simple: “This is me. This is my family.”

There’s a lot of joy and humor here, and Wilbur gets the biggest laugh with his “This is a dinosaur and my family!” spread, showing a hungry dinosaur chasing the family. Saltzberg uses bold and colorful fonts, and each story reflects the personality and age level of its author in very entertaining ways.

Seymour wraps things up by showing how the family decided to put all their stories together into . . . well, Saltzberg’s book. “Because books are better when they are shared.” And this remarkably child-centered book is one you’ll definitely want to share.

This article was originally published in the April 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

One day, a man in a dapper tuxedo discovers that a skunk is following him. There seems to be no shaking the stinky stalker—but when at last the man succeeds, his thoughts drift to The Skunk and whatever new mischief he’s making.

Caldecott Honor winners Mac Barnett and Patrick McDonnell take readers on a tale that yo-yos between pursuit and capture. McDonnell neatly divides the story by color: Man and skunk coexist in a universe that’s black and white and red all over (with a wash of peach here and there), but there’s a sequence in the middle of the story that takes on a brighter, Wonder Bread-y palette to suit the changing mood. The drawings here echo the style of McDonnell’s MUTTS comic strip—take the stripe out of the skunk’s tail, and he could be one of the squirrels who bonk passersby with nuts.

The simple story and clean layout include lots for young readers to identify (a cafe, trucks, a Ferris wheel, an opera house). The ending is funny and might provide a gentle opening for talk about “stranger danger” and when it’s OK or not to follow someone, or about the wild animals who live alongside us in urban places. The Skunk is a cool romp that’s wild at heart.

Stick and Stone have one thing in common—they each stand alone. Stone feels like a zero, and Stick like the loneliest number—one. The teeter-totter won’t cooperate when you’re on your own, and playing solo is no fun. But along comes Pinecone, a prickly scamp with a mean attitude who taunts and teases Stone until Stick tells him to “Vanish!” And Pinecone does.

Soon Stick and Stone become fast friends, blowing bubbles and exploring together, even taking in dolphins at the seashore. But then a hurricane blows in and carries Stick out to sea—Pinecone, too. Stone searches and calls but is no match for the strong storm and the enormity of the ocean.

Then, in the middle of a grassy hill, Stone finds Stick upside down in the middle of a huge puddle. With a roll and a thump, Stone catapults into the air. “Cowabunga!” he says, plopping in the puddle and sloshing Stick out of the muck. Stick and Stone are together again, and together they make “a perfect 10.”

The youngest child will empathize with Stick and Stone and cheer their newfound friendship. Tom Lichtenheld’s clever drawings bring expressive emotion to this simple story of two (usually inanimate) creatures, and author Beth Ferry’s gentle rhymes make Stick and Stone easy on the ear. The old adage “sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt you” rings untrue in this clever story that touches on bullying and the true meaning of friendship.

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

Sleepless Knight is a fun camping story told in comic book form for preschoolers and young elementary school students. Creators James Sturm, Andrew Arnold and Alexis Frederick-Frost have previously published a series of award-winning Adventures in Cartooning books, and the fun continues in their new story featuring the exuberant Knight and his sidekick, Edward the horse.

The Knight proclaims that this will be “the BEST camping trip EVER!” as he overloads Edward with things like his scooter, ukulele and even a cactus. Most important of all is the Knight's teddy―along with 30 bags of marshmallows.

This duo doesn’t make it very far from the castle with their huge load, but they do manage to pitch a tent and start a campfire. Later that night, Edward falls into an exhausted sleep while the Knight realizes that his beloved teddy bear is missing. Adventures ensue as the Knight searches high and low, encountering a helpful rabbit and a rather large bear.

Young readers will enjoy the madcap nighttime antics, and budding cartoonists will particularly relish the endpapers, which feature step-by-step guides for drawing the Knight, Edward, the rabbit and the bear, all in a variety of humorous moods, expressions and activities. No doubt many young artists will be inspired to create their own adventures featuring Edward and the Knight.

A young boy heads to Coney Island for a birthday outing, his mother treating him to ice cream once they arrive. The word “cream” shows through a die-cut hole (“‘Ice cream,’ I say, my birthday surprise!”), and on the next spread, after the boy drops his snack, we read: “‘Oh no!’ I scream, with tears in my eyes.”

This is the name of the game in Frank Viva’s newest picture book: It’s a story that plays with words (specifically oronyms, or pairs of words that sound the same but have different spellings or meanings, such as with “ice cream” and “I scream”), not to mention the cleverly placed die-cut holes on nearly every spread. “A Whole Story with Holes,” the cover states after all. It’s a superbly designed book, and page turns often reveal delightful discoveries: When the boy leans to the ground to mourn his fallen ice cream, with his mouth wide open in surprise, his teeth—appearing through the die-cut hole—consist of the lines and white space that made up the top of the subway train in the previous spread.

Viva’s illustrations, filled with vivid, saturated colors and dominated by teals, yellows, reds and browns, are a visual treat. Everything—line, shapes, patterns—works together to form pleasing compositions. His hand-drawn text type is handsome, and he proves once again that he has a very distinctive, all-his-own style.

Some of the oronym-starring sentences work better than others. A few of them feel forced (“her ear” and “her rear” in a sequence that initially confused me), though others flow organically in the story (“fork handles” pairs with “four candles” as the mother surprises the boy with a picnic birthday party).

This “whole story with holes” may have a couple holes in its text, but the wordplay is still worth the ride. And readers will appreciate the illustrations and design, which are just as the title tells you: outstanding.

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

There’s No Such Thing as Little takes readers on a fun journey using objects, animals, plants, artwork and even nature to illustrate how little things have the power to have a big impact.

A little boy and girl take the reader through this adventure, learning together with each turn of the page: A candle provides a little light in a small room, but a great light in a lighthouse; a line on a piece of paper can become a painting hung in an art museum; and a child’s little hand can be strong as part of a whole circle of friends playing ring-around-the-rosie on the playground. Author-illustrator LeUyen Pham uses die-cut holes to illustrate these little/big objects, a technique that offers even the littlest readers a new and exciting way to turn the page. Babies will enjoy the bold and colorful illustrations, particularly the big faces of the children towards the end of the book, while older preschool readers will enjoy pointing out familiar objects, animals, letters and colors, and guessing what’s on the next page.

This book not only teaches children about the impact that little things have on their lives and in the world, but also about the gentleness that is used while reading, being careful turning the pages, using the die-cut holes as guides. This is a fabulous read for children as young as several months, all the way up to preschool and even kindergarten.  

It’s not often you see picture books capable of both humor and genuine creepiness.

Before we even get to the title page of Sean Ferrell's I Don't Like Koala, readers see a boy, with glee, opening a present. Then, lo and behold, on the title page itself, staring out of the box it came in, is a stuffed koala. On the next spread, Adam is well on the other side of the room, far from the box: “Adam does not like Koala,” the narrator tells us.

Koala is “the most terrible terrible.” His eyes follow Adam, no matter where he goes, and Adam repeatedly tries to get rid of him. But he just keeps reappearing. Unless readers want to make the leap that Koala is somehow ghoulishly sentient and ambulatory when no one’s looking (hey, anything’s possible in fiction), I suppose we are to assume that poor Adam has a love-hate relationship with his stuffed animal. He’s just not willing to accept the love part. Either that or his parents are the ones repeatedly placing the toy next to him. After all, every night—despite all his protestations—the creature ends up on his pillow, “closer than close.” In one laugh-aloud spread, dominated by copious white space, readers merely see the boy’s arms, bottom left, and Koala flying through the air.

Therein lies the book’s greatest charm: its very understated humor. This works well, in large part thanks to Charles Santoso’s illustrations: The colors are restrained, yet Adam’s expressions are often off-the-chart funny. In one spread, Adam’s father tells him it’s clear he really loved his snack. Adam, who is playing away from the table, acts confused, and readers see behind him on the table an empty plate and—you guessed it—Koala. He’s lying there and staring straight at the reader. BOO. Adam’s face on the next spread is comedy gold.  

In the end, Adam finds comfort in Koala, and Ferrell wraps it all up with a very funny and unexpected comic rimshot.

It’s a story with a lot to like.

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

A series of family portraits, with border art as special as the families within, provide the framework for Families, Families, Families! The wife and husband team of writer Suzanne Lang and award-winning illustrator Max Lang have combined the talents in their family to create an utterly charming picture book about the varied nature of families.

Winsome illustrations of animal families, with their large eyes and noses, will delight children and parents alike. Real objects are superimposed over the family “photos,” such as bamboo for the panda family, pushpins holding the koala family’s pictures to a bulletin board or magnetic letters (that children likely recognize) holding the moose family portrait. The frames for the pictures relate to these diverse households, too: The rooster family’s frame is made of hay, the octopus seashells, and the hippopotamus’ frame has a tribal design.

Bolded words depict family relationships in the portraits, such as children having many siblings, and others having none. Parents can be married or unmarried. Children live with two moms or two dads, one mom or one dad, grandparents, an aunt and cousins or step-siblings. Cheery, daffy rhymes on the last several pages bring home the message of the book: It doesn't matter what form your family takes, love is what really makes the group a family.

Welcome to the Neighborwood by master paper craftsman Shawn Sheehy is at once a breathtaking work of interactive art and a fact-filled exploration of the great outdoors. Young readers learn about the habits and survival skills of seven different creatures through pop-up models of the places they call home. Each burrow and nest bursts from the page in 3-D form, and Sheehy complements these visual astonishments with information about each animal. In easy-to-absorb prose, he explains the ways in which they adapt to the wild, construct homes and flourish.

In magical, surprising spreads, a garden spider hangs from a leaf, its web a delicate backdrop, and a honeybee surveys its complex comb. Tucked in the branches of a leafy tree, a hummingbird’s nest opens wide to reveal its winged inhabitant. Filled with color and detail, these pages truly pop, a testament to paper’s remarkable potential as a creative medium.

A former science teacher, Sheehy has said that his goal as an author is to create an awareness of and respect for the environment in young readers. Providing an intriguing peek inside an ecosystem, this book enchants even as it instructs.

This article was originally published in the March 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

A simple pen can do a lot. Christopher Myers shows us just that in his new book, a tribute to the imagination of children and the immense power of creativity.

A young boy sets the tone in the opening pages: He says that there are rich and famous people in the world who sometimes make him feel “small.” When their words are plastered everywhere, he feels insignificant, momentarily forgetting that he has his own voice: his pen. We know we’re in for the honest and vulnerable musings of a child.

On the very next spread, the boy notes, “My pen makes giants of old men who have seen better days.” Here is a drawing of a man who looks remarkably like Walter Dean Myers, the author’s father, a legend in children’s literature who passed away last year. If, like me, you’re still trying to get used to his absence, this spread will take your breath away.

The boy goes on to show where his sketchbook can take him: He can tap-dance on the sky, hide elephants in teacups and wear “satellite sneakers with computer laces.” His pen might worry about wars, but it exudes love. It might be simple, but it’s capable of grand adventures. It can even bolster the boy’s identity. “It draws me a new face every morning,” he writes.

Myers’ graceful pen-and-ink drawings are eloquent and expressive. The absence of color is a smart choice; it’s as if Myers leaves abundant room for young readers to fill in his or her own spaces.

This is a lively tribute to the wonders of expression.

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

This article was originally published in the March 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.