Have you ever bemoaned the price of stamps as you hauled a large package to the post office? Maybe it’s time to consider alternative methods of conveyance. Special Delivery has some exciting—if slightly unusual—suggestions.

A hefty mailing fee launches spirited Sadie on an adventure to surprise her lonely Great-Aunt Josephine with an elephant. Luckily, Sadie has an aviator’s helmet full of courage and creativity, and her elephant is equally bold. They hastily hop an ill-equipped airplane and follow an alligator tour guide. They tempt fate on a monkey-bandit-infested train, and an ice cream truck takes them the last leg of their journey.

Written by Caldecott-winning Philip C. Stead, Special Delivery will win the approval of little readers who wish for an outlandish story. Sadie’s voice provides most of the dialogue, and young adventurers will identify with her unruffled single-mindedness. Energetic illustrations by Matthew Cordell fill in the rest of the story and take the lead for a few full-color spreads.

With animal antics and lighthearted danger, Special Delivery is almost as much fun as, say, getting an elephant in the mail.

RELATED CONTENT: Stead and Cordell go Behind the Book for Special Delivery.

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

In this bedtime book that begs to be enjoyed over and over again, master writer Jane Yolen and her daughter and fellow birder, Heidi E.Y. Stemple, offer a rhythmic and cozy story that doesn’t disappoint. Rhyming couplets often are a mixed strength in children’s books, but in You Nest Here with Me—part field guide, part bedtime story—the language and refrain are spot on. Unique word choices and lovely depictions of birds and their nesting sites keep the warm and fuzzy story from being too cloying.

Each page presents a bird family settling down for the night. Terns call as they look for a place to settle on high cliffs above the sea, and the mouth of a tiny wren pours out its song as the mother bird perches by the cattail-wrapped nest. Illustrator Melissa Sweet uses mixed media and brilliant, clear shades of watercolor and gouache to create collages that are a feast for the eyes. From seashore to mountaintop, from wetlands to forest, birds find places to nest and rest.

The story’s end is all the reassurance that any child needs, especially at bedtime: It is a wide world, but “till you’re big as big can be . . . You’ll nest right here in our house with me.” Comfort and the opportunity to learn and grow seamlessly combine, appealing to parents and children alike.

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

When Bear visits a duck family one spring, they have so much fun together he decides to stay. But the ducks’ home is too small for Bear, and his ideal space is far too gloomy (and roomy) for the ducks. Can a compromise be struck? The smart money’s on finding Room for Bear.

Ciara Gavin’s watercolor and pencil illustrations expand on simple text to poignant and humorous effect. “What suited Bear didn’t suit the ducks,” as Bear kicks back and smiles while the ducks fret alongside him, two sitting in a bowl of water, the smallest playing with a classic yellow rubber duckie. When Bear tries to join the ducks on their turf, a step onto their small boat sends the same tiny duckling flying out of his mother’s arms—but not to worry, he’s wearing a little red life vest. A scene where Bear reminisces about the fun they have together shows them all reading and enjoying cups of tea, a copy of Eat Quack Love on the table beside them.

Bear finally solves this dilemma through the application of some grade-A carpentry skills, but you won’t need a stud-finder to take away the lesson that a family who looks different can still love each other and make a home together. Room for Bear is a sweet debut with an important message at its heart.

Former Montessori teacher Maripat Perkins’ debut picture book, Rodeo Red, will wake up the drowsiest bedtime-story reader. Illustrator Molly Idle (Flora and the Flamingo) brings drama and an animated sensibility to the story of the wild, wild west.

Rodeo Red’s favorite things in the world are her cowboy hat, her lasso and her stuffed hound dog, Rusty. Suddenly, Sideswiping Slim, a new baby, shows up and ruins everything. Rodeo Red thinks that “anybody who hollered that much would be hauled to the edge of town and told to Skedaddle.” But the Sheriff and her Deputy—aka her parents—seem smitten, so Rodeo Red decides to lay low—but things don’t get any better.

When Rusty goes missing, Rodeo Red knows who is to blame. Slim has fallen asleep with poor Rusty in his clutches. She tries to get Rusty back but ends up hollering at Slim, who wakes the whole house. “Wouldn’t you know Slim would have the law on his side?” she says.

A belated birthday gift from Rodeo Red’s Aunt Sal may prove just the impetus to get Rusty back. After all’s said and done, Red climbs on her rocking horse to put her boots up for a spell before the next adventure. No doubt there will be many.

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

Everyone knows the possibilities of planting a garden, but in this story with a clever twist, a rabbit and mouse learn the real benefits of planting seeds. As the sun rises, the big-eyed, cute-as-a-button rabbit and mouse plant a tomato seed, a carrot seed and a cabbage seed. As the days pass with rain and shine, they tend to their seeds with love and care until they reap the rewards of juicy and crunchy vegetables.

As the rabbit and mouse become gluttonous with their haul, a flock of birds arrive. In true picture-book fashion, Kadir Nelson’s lush, colorful oil paintings tell the real story. While the birds look on in hunger, even looking readers straight on in a dramatic, wordless double-page spread, the rabbit and mouse refuse to share. In the process, they plant a new seed in their garden—a seed of selfishness. That seed grows and grows as well—“into a heap of trouble.”

As the animals, fatigued from a food fight and covered in tomato splatter, notice the disaster they’ve created, the mouse discovers yet one more seed to plant—a seed of kindness. After seeing how the birds can help spread seeds by flying above, the rabbit and mouse join them in tending the garden once again. This time the rewards are sweet in more ways than one as all the forest animals partake in the bounty. Even very young children will identify the warmth and humor that’s ripe for sharing in small and large groups.

When Charlie “Bird” Parker and John “Dizzy” Gillespie played music together in the 1940s, they forged a new kind of music—bebop. Gary Golio’s new picture book, with exuberant illustrations by Ed Young, is a lively tribute to the form.

“Salt Pea-nuts! Salt Pea-nuts!” the book opens. Readers who go with the flow enter a world of music and motion, energy and rhythm. Golio’s spare text explains how “Bird” and “Diz” played together “just like kids.” A mere nod or look from one to the other communicated just enough to get a song going in the right direction. The two musicians would take turns, but it was “Two hearts—one heartbeat.”

The free verse is playful (“Tag, Bird—you’re it!”), and vivid metaphors charm. (Diz would swell his cheek like “a frog with glasses” while he played.) Both author and illustrator capture this one piece, “Salt Peanuts!” and bring a moment of time to vivid life, as the two musicians play off one another, the performance like a child’s game or like jugglers tossing music back and forth.

The book is designed with accordion pages with text and art on both sides, which the reader can unwind into one long spread. To call Young’s art dazzling is no exaggeration, as it pops with splashes of color and bold lines that swirl and swoop, spin and curl. The muted cover is no indication of the eye-popping action inside this book.

An afterword from Golio provides a brief history of bebop and the revolution it was—and how Bird and Diz brought it to life. Best of all, Golio encourages readers to get online and see the two musicians play “Hot House” live, and he recommends two CDs. “Now pick up your crayons and draw!” he adds. After seeing this sensational art, many readers may feel compelled to do just that.

Bebop has never been so beautiful.

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

Bedtime at Bessie and Lil’s offers a delightful look at what bedtime routines are often really like. As Mama Rabbit diligently tries to read one of her favorite childhood books to her lovable yet active girls, Bessie practices headstands and Lil shows off her skipping abilities.

Sternberg’s breezily amusing text is spot-on. For instance, this exchange occurs after Mama reads a passage about tucking little bunnies in:

“I really like the word tuck,” said Bessie.
“I’d really like you to sit down,” said Mama.
“I want to say it ten times fast,” said Bessie. “Tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck―”

Poor Mama! Not only does her idyllic story time not go as planned, she frets that Bessie and Lil will wake the baby. Eventually Mama gives up and reads her treasured book to herself, and the girls decide they must go kiss the baby.

Adam Gudeon’s illustrations alternately depict the energetic bunnies’ reading session and the serene scenes in Mama Rabbit’s book, highlighting the stark contrast between the two. Gudeon’s primitive drawing style works well with his bright colors and clever artistic touches, such as the toy carrot car and carrot-shaped rocket in Bessie and Lil’s room, along with their carrot-accented headboards.

Bedtime at Bessie and Lil’s is a gentle family drama that reinforces the idea that despite the moments of chaos that naturally occur in a boisterous, loving family, in the end things often have a way of working out surprisingly well.

Families come in all forms. Ame Dyckman’s new picture book, illustrated by Zachariah OHora, is all about the most unlikely new family member for a bunny family of three. They arrive home one day, surprised to find a bundle on their front stoop—and it’s none other than a baby wolf. Mama and Papa Bunny don’t even flinch: They agree he’s adorable and that he’s a keeper. Their daughter, Dot, has other ideas, however: “HE’S GOING TO EAT US ALL UP!” she says. In fact, she says it repeatedly. But no one listens. They’re “too smitten to listen.”

Eventually, Wolfie is up and walking around, and he’s crazy for Dot. But Dot still refuses to trust the canine—until one day, that is, when a giant bear tries to eat Wolfie and Dot finds herself coming to her little brother’s aid. Turns out she’s happy to be her brother’s keeper after all.

This take on the universal new-sibling story from Dyckman, who seems to get even better with each book, is fresh and funny. Both the author and illustrator handle Dot’s rollercoaster feelings with the respect they deserve. And her rather hapless state of affairs, as she watches her parents fall in love with this new family member she hasn’t yet accepted, is compelling. And she’s a funny bunny, too; OHora gives her entertaining angry brows. The depictions of the passive newborn wolf being doted upon, as Dot throws some serious shade at him with those mad brows, are laugh-out-loud funny.

OHora’s limited palette is dominated by mustards, pea greens and pink, giving the book a bit of a retro look. Dot stands out, as she should, in her bright red jacket, and the hungry bear at the book’s close has red pants, emphasizing this emotionally charged scene’s inherent drama. OHora’s vibrant and thickly outlined illustrations also capture a particular neighborhood. He writes in a closing Artist’s Note that the book’s setting is an homage to Park Slope, Brooklyn, where he once lived.

With winning characters and lots of humor, this is a welcome addition to the world of new-sibling picture books. Just like Wolfie, this one’s a keeper.

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

Slinking through the grass with panache, Duck believes he is a cat, just like his friend Cat. Or, at the very least, he will be when he grows up. But when Duck tries to follow Cat up a tree, his lack of claws (and general lack of catness) becomes sadly apparent. Trying to find a game they can play together, Cat accidentally jumps off the dock, lands in the water and is quickly transformed into a miserable, soaking mess. Duck has no claws and no cat ears, but his webbed feet may save the day.

Carin Bramsen’s masterful second book starring Duck and Cat, after Hey, Duck!, is the perfect mix of cute story and gentle lesson. Bright, welcoming illustrations—from the big blue sky, the sturdy red barn, even the softness of the fur and feathers—construct a friendly, comfortable world. Children are given permission to dream big while reinforcing the idea that we all have strengths and weaknesses.

Bramsen uses simple, rhyming dialogue to engage young listeners and to provide that soothing, rolling rhythm that is essential for nighttime and calm time. Duck and Cat’s words appear in different fonts, which is helpful when sharing read-aloud turns with beginning readers.

Two double-page spreads (Duck’s tree-climbing attempt and Cat’s water rescue) are completely wordless, which allows the reader full sound-effect interpretation and lets Bramsen’s illustrations stand alone. Duck’s sweet, wide-eyed expressions make these scenes truly charming.

Adorable baby animal stories are always hard to resist, but Just a Duck? ups its value with a lesson: The best of friends are made when each has a unique chance to shine.

Owls are stealthy predators known to swoop through the night to surprise unsuspecting prey. This isn’t quite the case with Hoot Owl, Master of Disguise. In this clever book for preschoolers, Hoot is as cute as can be, with bright, bold and simple illustrations by French artist Jean Jullien.

Although Hoot fancies himself to be fierce, he is mainly hungry and melodramatic. Imagine this deep-voiced, deadly serious avian narrator announcing, “The darkness of midnight is all around me. But I fly through it as quick as a shooting star.”

Hoot Owl is a perfect read-aloud, begging for over-the-top theatricality as its hero repeatedly announces, “I am Hoot Owl! I am hungry. And here I come!” He disguises himself as a carrot while trying to catch a rabbit, and as a mother sheep when trying to catch a lamb—all with no luck. Next, his pursuit of a pigeon is equally unsuccessful (perhaps because his strategy is to hide and wait instead of actually attacking).

Despite repeated failures, Hoot remains undaunted. His self-confidence and unwavering tenacity bring to mind the character of Phil Dunphy in the TV show “Modern Family.”

Happily, Hoot eventually manages to catch his final prey, but only after zeroing in on quite the unexpected target―a final quest that youngsters are bound to enjoy.

This simple story packs plenty of punch. Hoot Owl is a comic, suspenseful tale that will no doubt be a hit night after night.

Award-winning illustrator Carin Berger harbors in spring with this warm tale of a bear cub, who, just like impatient human children, has a bit of trouble with waiting.

The story begins in the cool days of fall, when Maurice and his mom fill up on berries to get ready for hibernation. “Waiting is hard,” his mother tells Maurice. While Mama Bear slips into a winter nap, Maurice ventures out of the den to find spring all by himself.

But, as Maurice soon finds, spring is just one of those things that comes in its own time. This is the advice Robin gives him before she flies south just in time to miss the first snowfall. For his part, Maurice is treated to a flurry of gorgeous snowflakes. Eventually, Maurice drifts into hibernation and, accompanied by a burst of bright colors, is able to share the excitement of spring with other forest friends when he finally wakes up.

Berger’s ingenious paper collages, which are crafted out of ephemera including old books, letters, receipts and various kinds of paper, bring a sophisticated and fresh look to a familiar story. While young children will delight in Maurice’s adventures, adults and budding artists will find delight in perusing the details of the art, from the jaunty hat on Robin’s head to miniature striped flowers to imposing, magnificent trees. Like spring itself, this story is an enchantment.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is The Great Trouble.

Young Elmore Green’s life seems perfect and orderly until one day when “somebody else came along,” and that someone happens to be The New Small Person. This new creature, whom Elmore refers to as “it,” squawks during Elmore’s favorite cartoons and once “actually licked Elmore’s jelly-bean collection, including the orange ones.”

Elmore, not surprisingly, isn’t happy about his baby brother.

There’s nothing new about this scenario, but in Lauren Child’s gifted hands, both text and illustrations are exceedingly fresh and funny. This best-selling author is well known for her memorable characters, including Clarice Bean and siblings Charlie and Lola.

Child’s bright, fetching art brings us right into these siblings’ world, where lines of small toys are monumentally important and where the adults’ heads are never visible, only their bodies. Child’s use of typography is equally creative, with changing font sizes and words that curve across a spread or climb down the rungs of a treehouse ladder.

Things go from bad to worse for poor Elmore. The new small person constantly follows him around and, on “one awful day,” actually moves into Elmore’s room. But one night, Elmore has a nightmare in which “a scary thing was chasing him, waving its grabbers and gnashing its teeth.” His younger sibling comes to the rescue, and soon after, “it” becomes known as Elmore’s brother, Albert.

The New Small Person is a delightful tale of new sibling arrival and acceptance, another wonderful offering from the masterful Child.

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

Emily Jenkins will bring out the foodie in any reader as she traces the preparation of blackberry fool through four centuries in A Fine Dessert. Starting in 1710 in Lyme, England, a mother and daughter pick wild blackberries from the field surrounding their cottage. Then begins the labor-intensive process that includes milking the cow, skimming the cream, beating the cream with twigs, straining the berries through muslin to get rid of seeds and chilling the delightful blend of berries and cream in an ice pit in the hillside.

The recipe travels to mother and daughter slaves who serve up the dessert to their owner’s family on a Charleston plantation in 1810; to a metropolitan housewife and daughter in Boston in 1910; and finally, to a father and son from San Diego in 2010. Along the way, readers see the evolution of cooking, from picking berries to buying them at an open-air market. They also see the increasing role of technology as horse-drawn wagons deliver cream from a local dairy and cartons of organic cream are purchased at the supermarket.

Sophie Blackall’s folksy watercolor and blackberry juice illustrations depict further differences in clothing and traditions over time. But one thing never changes: wanting to lick the spoon! This is a picture book treat that will charm readers across generations.

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