I am so excited to post here that I will be a Cybils panelist for the Nonfiction Picture Book award again this year. If you don't know about the Cybils, it is a group of awards for multiple types of books, given to the books that best combine literary merit and kid appeal. The panelists and judges for this awards are children's and young adult book bloggers. This group has a ton of expertise and a ton of enthusiasm. It is fun to read for all of these awards, but as you can guess, I have a special spot in my heart for Nonfiction Picture Books. While I liked them before last fall, I really fell in love with them over the course of my reading. I read more than seventy books last year, and can't wait to read more!
If you are wondering about this procedure, it goes like this: between October 1st and October 15th, you can nominate books to be considered. Rules are available at the Cybils website as the nomination period is opened. Then the first round panelists (of which I am one), begin reading. We read everything that is nominated, folks! Then beginning around Christmas, we begin debating. The panelists look at books and discuss them together, trying to narrow the books down to a shortlist. The shortlist is passed on to the second round judges, who come up with a final winner in each category by Valentine's Day.
It is an incredibly fulfilling process for me, and I cannot wait to get started again. You will be seeing reviews of some of the books I love as the fall goes on (last year I reviewed books here, here, and here, among others). I will use the same post labels as I did last year - Cybils and Non-fiction picture books - if you are interested in looking at all of the related posts. I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I will!
Monday, September 24, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Homer
I used to be the head of the Weezie Library for Children on the island of Nantucket. It was a wonderful time in my life, in some ways very like a story. I was very lucky to meet a family early on in my time there who became my second family. I babysat for their children, shared adventures with them, spent time at their house...I even lived with them for a while, sharing a bedroom with their middle child. They had the best yellow lab, named Bucky. He was enormous, sweet, and good-natured, a real friend and companion to all of us. When the whole family would go off-island for a vacation, Bucky would come stay with me at my apartment. He would jump up and stretch out on the bed next to me at night. Bucky was a sweet old dog.
Homer reminded me of Bucky in a great way. The book begins with Homer, a big yellow dog, laying on the porch, looking out over the ocean, nose up to sniff the air. The sun is just rising, and the day seems full of possibility. Cooper's text is brief, but sums up the dog's experience so honestly and lovingly. As the entire family (including a whole passel of dogs) tromp past him, he rests contentedly on the porch. He's right at the edge of the stairs, where he can survey everything. Everyone who passes offers Homer things to do - chase and race around the yard, swimming in the waves, running to the market. But Homer demurs, saying "No, no, I'm fine right here."
The day passes, and soon everyone is back. As they pass Homer on their way back inside, they all report on their activities - the chase and race was tiring, the waves were big and wild, the market trip produced great things to eat. Homer is the family's touchstone. As the sun sets, they all gather on the porch around him, evidence of their day spread around Homer. The sweetest moment come when the father asks if Homer needs anything. Homer answers no, that he has everything he wants. Cooper shows Homer in a series of panels getting up slowly, a little stiff from a day on the wooden porch, going into the house, and settling into an oversized chair. He is surrounded by the family again, and you can see Homer's calm, his love and peaceful demeanor. Homer truly has everything he needs right around him.
This story is heartfelt. Cooper has written a paean to the heart of the home and a beloved dog. You can tell how everyone regards Homer - they pat him, one of the little girls tucks a hydrangea flower behind Homer's ears. Even the other family dogs stop for Homer's approval before moving on. Cooper cuts through the sweetness of these scenes with other techniques. There are details in each illustration that show the life of the family, things we can all relate to. Some of these details are humorous - in the picture of the dogs barrelling past Homer on their way to chase and race, a Scottie flies off the porch, all legs extended. Though one of the parents clearly has the door opened wide to let the pack out, a basset hound chooses to go out through the doggie door. There is also some bittersweetness to this book - Homer is clearly getting older, no longer needing to romp and burn off energy like the other dogs. Instead, he is content to stay at home, sniffing the air and monitoring everyone's activities.
The CIP for this book says that Cooper used watercolors and pencil to create the artwork. First I want to say that mentioning the way the illustrations were created are so important to me. I am actually not sure why EVERY picture book doesn't include this information. It celebrates the art that was made for that book, and that's what it is - art. Could you imagine going to a museum, finding something framed that you really liked, and having no idea how it was created? I think this is a valuable learning opportunity. Even after all of these years reviewing picture books, I am still astonished at the way picture books are created. I still quite often need a reminder of the methods that were used, especially when there are multiple methods used. Especially as art classes are cut all over the United States, the artistic method seems like crucial information for readers to have. I love seeing how a technique works best, and speculating on why an artist chose something particular. Okay, rant over. But if you are a publisher, please consider including this every time.
This time Cooper's choice suits the illustrations perfectly. The pencil helps delineate soft, puffy clouds and the fur all over Homer. The watercolors are precise, rich and beachy without being too pastel - they remind me of the natural beauty of Nantucket. In the first illustration, Homer is the exact color of the morning sky and a path to the beach. He is a part of the scenery, even though he remains slightly apart from it. Most pages are paneled - with one or more panels framed with crisp white. There are two double-page spreads, both showing the whole family, busy with their own activities yet all within Homer's eyesight. Your eye catches on many details as you scan, but these pictures are filled with love.
There is no getting around the love in this book, both within the family and for Homer. Homer is the elder statesman of the family and graciously accepts the respect that is his due. This book really struck a chord with me because of my beach experiences, but I think anyone who has experienced the love of a dog will love it just as much. On the last page, Cooper focuses tightly on Homer's loved, loving face - all is right in his world as he falls asleep.
Homer. Elisha Cooper. Greenwillow Books, 2012.
borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
The day passes, and soon everyone is back. As they pass Homer on their way back inside, they all report on their activities - the chase and race was tiring, the waves were big and wild, the market trip produced great things to eat. Homer is the family's touchstone. As the sun sets, they all gather on the porch around him, evidence of their day spread around Homer. The sweetest moment come when the father asks if Homer needs anything. Homer answers no, that he has everything he wants. Cooper shows Homer in a series of panels getting up slowly, a little stiff from a day on the wooden porch, going into the house, and settling into an oversized chair. He is surrounded by the family again, and you can see Homer's calm, his love and peaceful demeanor. Homer truly has everything he needs right around him.
This story is heartfelt. Cooper has written a paean to the heart of the home and a beloved dog. You can tell how everyone regards Homer - they pat him, one of the little girls tucks a hydrangea flower behind Homer's ears. Even the other family dogs stop for Homer's approval before moving on. Cooper cuts through the sweetness of these scenes with other techniques. There are details in each illustration that show the life of the family, things we can all relate to. Some of these details are humorous - in the picture of the dogs barrelling past Homer on their way to chase and race, a Scottie flies off the porch, all legs extended. Though one of the parents clearly has the door opened wide to let the pack out, a basset hound chooses to go out through the doggie door. There is also some bittersweetness to this book - Homer is clearly getting older, no longer needing to romp and burn off energy like the other dogs. Instead, he is content to stay at home, sniffing the air and monitoring everyone's activities.
The CIP for this book says that Cooper used watercolors and pencil to create the artwork. First I want to say that mentioning the way the illustrations were created are so important to me. I am actually not sure why EVERY picture book doesn't include this information. It celebrates the art that was made for that book, and that's what it is - art. Could you imagine going to a museum, finding something framed that you really liked, and having no idea how it was created? I think this is a valuable learning opportunity. Even after all of these years reviewing picture books, I am still astonished at the way picture books are created. I still quite often need a reminder of the methods that were used, especially when there are multiple methods used. Especially as art classes are cut all over the United States, the artistic method seems like crucial information for readers to have. I love seeing how a technique works best, and speculating on why an artist chose something particular. Okay, rant over. But if you are a publisher, please consider including this every time.
This time Cooper's choice suits the illustrations perfectly. The pencil helps delineate soft, puffy clouds and the fur all over Homer. The watercolors are precise, rich and beachy without being too pastel - they remind me of the natural beauty of Nantucket. In the first illustration, Homer is the exact color of the morning sky and a path to the beach. He is a part of the scenery, even though he remains slightly apart from it. Most pages are paneled - with one or more panels framed with crisp white. There are two double-page spreads, both showing the whole family, busy with their own activities yet all within Homer's eyesight. Your eye catches on many details as you scan, but these pictures are filled with love.
There is no getting around the love in this book, both within the family and for Homer. Homer is the elder statesman of the family and graciously accepts the respect that is his due. This book really struck a chord with me because of my beach experiences, but I think anyone who has experienced the love of a dog will love it just as much. On the last page, Cooper focuses tightly on Homer's loved, loving face - all is right in his world as he falls asleep.
Homer. Elisha Cooper. Greenwillow Books, 2012.
borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Puffling Patrol
If you know this blog at all, you know how much I love children's nonfiction. And I'll say something here that I've said before: I am a fairly recent convert to children's nonfiction. I thought of it as something I should read to round out my blog, not because I had any strong feeling for it. And over the last two years (including a stint as a Cybils judge on a picture book nonfiction panel), I find myself really struggling not to focus my blog almost exclusively on children's nonfiction. There are so many great books out there. So just know for every book I've written about, I've read two or three other great ones. This book, however, is one you can't live without.
I first saw this book at our local library and was drawn to the sweet puffling on the cover. Then I saw that it was written and illustrated by Ted and Betsy Lewin. This husband and wife are both Caldecott Honor winners, which is an amazing thing. Their illustrative styles are so different, and I was interested enough to take a closer look at their collaboration. I am always fascinated by collaborations - picture books, nonfiction, chapter books. I love to look at how different authors (or illustrators) "fit" together - one of my favorite collaborations being Will Grayson, Will Grayson (John Green and David Levithan). You can hear each author's voice yet also see the overarching plot and themes. Each author's contribution meshes seamlessly.
This book was strong from the very first page. The Lewins created maps to orient readers immediately. The larger map is a close-up of the island of Heimaey (off the coast of Iceland), where the story takes place, giving landmarks to help readers picture where specific events take place. A smaller map shows the entire world, with Heimaey and Iceland shown in perspective to help readers see how small this island really is. There is a note on the facing page describing the Lewins' interest in this island and its importance for the puffin population.
Then the text begins. One of the most notable things is how well the Lewins are able to incorporate facts into their travel narrative. The Lewins have come to Iceland in August, when young puffins (called pufflings) are ready to venture out on their own for the first time. The adult puffins have already abandoned their pufflings to return to their lives on the ocean. The pufflings have to begin to fly, but their wings aren't always strong, and they become disoriented by the lights of the small town on Heimaey. They fly down onto the streets, and are unable to take off again. The pufflings can become victims of predators like dogs, or be hit by cars since they are so helpless. This is where the children of Heimaey come in to help. They are enlisted into the Puffling Patrol, and go out at night to rescue pufflings before they are injured.
The Lewins introduce readers to Dáni and Erna, eight year old twins who are in the Puffling Patrol. It is compelling to see the rescue efforts through these children's eyes. The twins are all business, capable and confident in their task. They stay up late during their stint as patrol, and their father tells the Lewins that Dáni "rescued twenty-seven pufflings in one night", so you can visualize the importance of their task.
While the children are the eyes of the story, the entire island is focused on rescuing and caring for many kinds of seabirds. The Lewins go out on a boat with researchers who are monitoring puffin burrows. They visit the Natural History Museum to see the pufflings measured and weighed before being released out into the ocean. At the time of year when pufflings are taking the first flights, the island is dedicated to puffin rescue. It is rewarding and dramatic when Dáni and Erna release the pufflings into the ocean.
Ted Lewin creates full-page watercolor paintings, and the most dramatic illustrations (the cover picture of a puffling caught in a spotlight, the pufflings being thrown up and out into the sea) are his. The colors are rich and saturated. There are black volcanic beaches created by sparkling lava, warm red light shining on wet pavement, an azure blue ocean. But for all the drama of his paintings, Betsy Lewin gives the puffins personality. She has created smaller spot illustrations that add details to the text. One of my favorite illustrations accompanies text about the researchers who must scale a cliff to see puffin burrows. When they return to the boat where the Lewins are watching, they must leap in while the small Zodiac bobs on waves, since there is no dock. Betsy Lewin shows a researcher leaping wildly (and almost missing the boat) while they watch. It is funny and terrifying at the same time. She also provides small closeups of a puffling gulping a fish and other endearing puffling activities. Their different styles add interest and diversity to this fascinating text.
And you know one of my requirements for strong nonfiction is high-quality back matter, and this book is exemplary. I've already mentioned the maps and explanatory note at the beginning of the book. There are also two pages of Atlantic puffin facts (along with more of Betsy Lewin's expressive illustrations). The Lewins have included a page on a five month long volcano eruption on the island of Heimaey which caused total evacuation of the island. It is a fascinating addition to the story of the pufflings. There is also information about the declining puffin population, a bibliography, and a glossary and pronunciation guide...whew! I also loved the note with the authors' sources, with a citation for Bruce McMillan's Nights of the Pufflings, which first introduced this island to readers.
This book is beautifully constructed from start to finish. I loved the topic (who doesn't love puffins?), and I loved how integral the children of Heimaey are to the survival of the puffins. It is a story that children will relate to, with plenty of facts to encourage further research. I hope this one will be considered come awards season.
Puffling Patrol. Ted and Betsy Lewin. Lee & Low Books, 2012.
borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
This book was strong from the very first page. The Lewins created maps to orient readers immediately. The larger map is a close-up of the island of Heimaey (off the coast of Iceland), where the story takes place, giving landmarks to help readers picture where specific events take place. A smaller map shows the entire world, with Heimaey and Iceland shown in perspective to help readers see how small this island really is. There is a note on the facing page describing the Lewins' interest in this island and its importance for the puffin population.
Then the text begins. One of the most notable things is how well the Lewins are able to incorporate facts into their travel narrative. The Lewins have come to Iceland in August, when young puffins (called pufflings) are ready to venture out on their own for the first time. The adult puffins have already abandoned their pufflings to return to their lives on the ocean. The pufflings have to begin to fly, but their wings aren't always strong, and they become disoriented by the lights of the small town on Heimaey. They fly down onto the streets, and are unable to take off again. The pufflings can become victims of predators like dogs, or be hit by cars since they are so helpless. This is where the children of Heimaey come in to help. They are enlisted into the Puffling Patrol, and go out at night to rescue pufflings before they are injured.
The Lewins introduce readers to Dáni and Erna, eight year old twins who are in the Puffling Patrol. It is compelling to see the rescue efforts through these children's eyes. The twins are all business, capable and confident in their task. They stay up late during their stint as patrol, and their father tells the Lewins that Dáni "rescued twenty-seven pufflings in one night", so you can visualize the importance of their task.
While the children are the eyes of the story, the entire island is focused on rescuing and caring for many kinds of seabirds. The Lewins go out on a boat with researchers who are monitoring puffin burrows. They visit the Natural History Museum to see the pufflings measured and weighed before being released out into the ocean. At the time of year when pufflings are taking the first flights, the island is dedicated to puffin rescue. It is rewarding and dramatic when Dáni and Erna release the pufflings into the ocean.
Ted Lewin creates full-page watercolor paintings, and the most dramatic illustrations (the cover picture of a puffling caught in a spotlight, the pufflings being thrown up and out into the sea) are his. The colors are rich and saturated. There are black volcanic beaches created by sparkling lava, warm red light shining on wet pavement, an azure blue ocean. But for all the drama of his paintings, Betsy Lewin gives the puffins personality. She has created smaller spot illustrations that add details to the text. One of my favorite illustrations accompanies text about the researchers who must scale a cliff to see puffin burrows. When they return to the boat where the Lewins are watching, they must leap in while the small Zodiac bobs on waves, since there is no dock. Betsy Lewin shows a researcher leaping wildly (and almost missing the boat) while they watch. It is funny and terrifying at the same time. She also provides small closeups of a puffling gulping a fish and other endearing puffling activities. Their different styles add interest and diversity to this fascinating text.
And you know one of my requirements for strong nonfiction is high-quality back matter, and this book is exemplary. I've already mentioned the maps and explanatory note at the beginning of the book. There are also two pages of Atlantic puffin facts (along with more of Betsy Lewin's expressive illustrations). The Lewins have included a page on a five month long volcano eruption on the island of Heimaey which caused total evacuation of the island. It is a fascinating addition to the story of the pufflings. There is also information about the declining puffin population, a bibliography, and a glossary and pronunciation guide...whew! I also loved the note with the authors' sources, with a citation for Bruce McMillan's Nights of the Pufflings, which first introduced this island to readers.
This book is beautifully constructed from start to finish. I loved the topic (who doesn't love puffins?), and I loved how integral the children of Heimaey are to the survival of the puffins. It is a story that children will relate to, with plenty of facts to encourage further research. I hope this one will be considered come awards season.
Puffling Patrol. Ted and Betsy Lewin. Lee & Low Books, 2012.
borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Maya Makes a Mess
I don't usually talk about graphic novels for children for one simple reason - my public library doesn't carry them!! When I worked at the Glendale Public Library in Arizona, I had librarians on my staff with excellent graphic novel taste (this book was written by one of my staff) and I honestly could not imagine living in a place without graphic novels for children. Now I want my girls to begin reading some graphic novels, and I can't get my hands on them - it is frustrating!
One of those series is the innovative easy-to-read comic book series produced by the Candlewick Books imprint, TOON Books. TOON Books is remarkable for being a collaboration between Francoise Mouly (art editor of the New Yorker among other accomplishments) and Art Spiegelman, who is a celebrated, award-winning comic book creator. They have taken many famous comic book and graphic novel creators and artists and have them create books designed specifically for emergent readers. Comic books can help young readers "crack the code" of literacy - the illustrations and text help guide them from left to right, and from the top to the bottom of the page. Also, even though these are beginning readers, they are great stories as well. One of my favorites, Little Mouse Gets Ready, was written and drawn by Jeff Smith (who created the uber-popular Bone series). The books are leveled, so parents and teachers can tell at a glance what would be most appropriate for their reader.
TOON's backlist is very strong, but there are a couple of books that are coming out this fall that I wanted to draw your attention to. I am interested in seeing A Trip to the Bottom of the World with Mouse, by Frank Viva. Last year I read his picture book, Along a Long Road. What is remarkable about that book is that it was created as one enormous piece of art (from the book: "created as a single continuous thirty-five-foot-long piece of art using Adobe Illustrator"). It had a retro yet modern feel to it. I cannot wait for this new title from him - I think he will only continue to become more innovative.
But I'm really here to tell you all about an opportunity to get a new TOON books Fall 2012 title for yourself. TOON Books is celebrating the publishing of the book Maya Makes a Mess with a very fun giveaway. This book is written by another high-quality graphic novelist - Rutu Modan won a Eisner Award for Best New Graphic Novel for her first published work. She has written about a topic that is very familiar to parents - Maya, who has atrocious table manners, is suddenly invited to dine with the Queen. Will the Queen find Maya's manners lacking? I don't want to give too much away, as I plan to blog this soon. But TOON Books is offering copies of this title to the readers who are the messiest eaters. I hate to tell you this, but bad manners are encouraged here!! Follow this link to see how to enter (but basically all you have to do is email a picture - what could be easier?). While you are there, check out some hilarious pictures of TOON staffers making...well, a mess. It is a fun way to encourage reading. If you win a copy, you'd better let me know! By the way, don't wait to enter - this giveaway ends August 15th.
Watch for my review of Maya Makes a Mess coming soon. I hope that more reviews of great graphic novels and comic books for children will convince the children's librarian at our public library to reconsider. For now, look for TOON books at your library and enjoy them!
Little Mouse Gets Ready. Jeff Smith. TOON Books, 2009.
A Trip to the Bottom of the World with Mouse. Frank Viva. TOON Books, 2012.
Maya Makes a Mess. Rutu Modan. TOON Books, 2012.
One of those series is the innovative easy-to-read comic book series produced by the Candlewick Books imprint, TOON Books. TOON Books is remarkable for being a collaboration between Francoise Mouly (art editor of the New Yorker among other accomplishments) and Art Spiegelman, who is a celebrated, award-winning comic book creator. They have taken many famous comic book and graphic novel creators and artists and have them create books designed specifically for emergent readers. Comic books can help young readers "crack the code" of literacy - the illustrations and text help guide them from left to right, and from the top to the bottom of the page. Also, even though these are beginning readers, they are great stories as well. One of my favorites, Little Mouse Gets Ready, was written and drawn by Jeff Smith (who created the uber-popular Bone series). The books are leveled, so parents and teachers can tell at a glance what would be most appropriate for their reader.
TOON's backlist is very strong, but there are a couple of books that are coming out this fall that I wanted to draw your attention to. I am interested in seeing A Trip to the Bottom of the World with Mouse, by Frank Viva. Last year I read his picture book, Along a Long Road. What is remarkable about that book is that it was created as one enormous piece of art (from the book: "created as a single continuous thirty-five-foot-long piece of art using Adobe Illustrator"). It had a retro yet modern feel to it. I cannot wait for this new title from him - I think he will only continue to become more innovative.
Watch for my review of Maya Makes a Mess coming soon. I hope that more reviews of great graphic novels and comic books for children will convince the children's librarian at our public library to reconsider. For now, look for TOON books at your library and enjoy them!
Little Mouse Gets Ready. Jeff Smith. TOON Books, 2009.
A Trip to the Bottom of the World with Mouse. Frank Viva. TOON Books, 2012.
Maya Makes a Mess. Rutu Modan. TOON Books, 2012.
Monday, July 30, 2012
One COOL Friend
Friendship is a tricky thing - I think we'd all agree. Sometimes you meet someone and instantly connect. Sometimes in my life I have met someone who I long to have as my friend, and it takes time to develop that connection. But sometimes you just know it's right. I see the same routines happen with my girls - they have made friends with the children of my adult friends, because they are so often together. Frances has recently become closer friends with a girl in her preschool class who she didn't like at all last fall. And Gloria, as is typical of Gloria's personality, has one true-blue friend, and he's a boy.
Elliot doesn't seem to have any human friends. At the beginning of the book, he appears, looking older than he is, surrounded by a circle of stuffed animals. His father, whose green plaid suit contrasts sharply with Elliot's refined tuxedo, asks Elliot if he would like to go to Family Fun Day at the aquarium. With an almost audible sigh, Elliot agrees, even though he knows that there will be a horde of noisy kids there. As soon as they arrive, Elliot's father plops on a bench to read National Geographic. Elliot roams on his own, steering clear of the crowds. And then Elliot discovers...the penguins! He identifies with their style and their posture. He feels that connection to a true friend. When he asks to take one home, his absorbed father agrees, thinking Elliot's buying one in the nearby gift shop. But of course, that's not what Elliot had in mind. The miscommunication between Elliot and his father (or is it willful misrepresentation?) continues after Elliot absconds with the penguin, who he names Magellan. This ongoing miscommunication ends in a delightful, surprising clarification at the end, a twist that is unexpected and marvelous.
Buzzeo's text is crisp and stark. Just like Elliot, it can be refined. When the father is speaking, you can feel his attempts to find something to connect with his son. Both Elliot and his father are self-contained fellows - the father pores over his journals, maps and diagrams. Elliot putters away making his penguin comfortable. They are both speaking English, but don't seem to be speaking the same language.
One of the nifty design elements in this book ties together Buzzeo's text with Small's illustrations. Dialogue is entered in balloons, adding to this book's retro, graphic feel. If there are multiple lines of dialogue, the balloons are stacked. This is helpful for new readers, to indicate who is saying what on the page. It also helps indicate the order of the conversation. There is also a distinction between thought bubbles (more scalloped in shape) and dialogue balloons (smooth and oval) to guide readers. It's very clever.
Buzzeo's text is pared down and sophisticated, although it isn't too sophisticated for young readers to get a sense of Elliot's isolation and loneliness. As Elliot winds a garden hose through the house (making an ice rink for the penguin), he tells his father "Forgive the inconvenience." But the text and illustrations work perfectly together - where Buzzeo is short and sweet, Small;s illustrations are grandiose - in a good way! - filling double-page spreads. They are over the top, with Elliot's father's crazy colored suit, tufts of orange hair and eyes rolling wildly with excitement.
But while the text draws me into the story, I have to spend some time focusing on David Small's amazing illustrations. First of all, the palette for the illustrations are cool tones - an icy blue, white, grey, and black. Other colors are used, but these choices set the tone right from the cover. The word "COOL" is icy blue, along with a tiled square motif along the spine, echoing the tiles in the aquarium. The rest of the cover (Elliot and the penguin back to back) is sharply black and white. And this continues throughout.
This book, after all, is about a penguin and you can almost see Magellan revel in the icy pages. One of my favorite illustrations shows Elliot and Magellan whirling on a makeshift ice rink. The focus of the page is Elliot, dressed in uncharacteristically bright colors, eyes closed with contentment. He is happy. But there are other details which make this page worth poring over - all of the stuffed animals are wearing scarves and earmuffs because the air conditioner is on full-blast. Mobiles and globes drip icicles. The details say just as much about the situation as the main picture does.
The illustrations remind of the matter-of-fact silliness of The Christmas Crocodile - one of my favorite Small-illustrated books. In both books the wackiness of the core situation (in The Christmas Crocodile, a family receives a large package delivered to them - bet you can't guess what's inside!) is in sharp relief against the ordinariness of the setting. But in One Cool Friend, once you read to the end, and discover the father's secret, you'll want to go back and re-read the book. There are many clever indications of the father's secret embedded in the pages - another level of humor for readers to enjoy.
This book fits readers on so many levels - those readers who might long for a penguin, those who might long for the understanding of a perfect friend, those who are looking for a place to fit in. Oh! I can't believe I didn't mention it before, but there is also a cool librarian featured in these pages - one more thing to love about this book. All in all, this is a surefire hit, and not to be missed!
One Cool Friend. Toni Buzzeo; pictures by David Small. Dial Books, 2012.
The Christmas Crocodile. Bonny Becker and David Small. Simon & Schuster, 2012.
One Cool Friend borrowed from Lewis & Clark library, The Christmas Crocodile is my personal copy.
Buzzeo's text is crisp and stark. Just like Elliot, it can be refined. When the father is speaking, you can feel his attempts to find something to connect with his son. Both Elliot and his father are self-contained fellows - the father pores over his journals, maps and diagrams. Elliot putters away making his penguin comfortable. They are both speaking English, but don't seem to be speaking the same language.
One of the nifty design elements in this book ties together Buzzeo's text with Small's illustrations. Dialogue is entered in balloons, adding to this book's retro, graphic feel. If there are multiple lines of dialogue, the balloons are stacked. This is helpful for new readers, to indicate who is saying what on the page. It also helps indicate the order of the conversation. There is also a distinction between thought bubbles (more scalloped in shape) and dialogue balloons (smooth and oval) to guide readers. It's very clever.
Buzzeo's text is pared down and sophisticated, although it isn't too sophisticated for young readers to get a sense of Elliot's isolation and loneliness. As Elliot winds a garden hose through the house (making an ice rink for the penguin), he tells his father "Forgive the inconvenience." But the text and illustrations work perfectly together - where Buzzeo is short and sweet, Small;s illustrations are grandiose - in a good way! - filling double-page spreads. They are over the top, with Elliot's father's crazy colored suit, tufts of orange hair and eyes rolling wildly with excitement.
But while the text draws me into the story, I have to spend some time focusing on David Small's amazing illustrations. First of all, the palette for the illustrations are cool tones - an icy blue, white, grey, and black. Other colors are used, but these choices set the tone right from the cover. The word "COOL" is icy blue, along with a tiled square motif along the spine, echoing the tiles in the aquarium. The rest of the cover (Elliot and the penguin back to back) is sharply black and white. And this continues throughout.
This book, after all, is about a penguin and you can almost see Magellan revel in the icy pages. One of my favorite illustrations shows Elliot and Magellan whirling on a makeshift ice rink. The focus of the page is Elliot, dressed in uncharacteristically bright colors, eyes closed with contentment. He is happy. But there are other details which make this page worth poring over - all of the stuffed animals are wearing scarves and earmuffs because the air conditioner is on full-blast. Mobiles and globes drip icicles. The details say just as much about the situation as the main picture does.
The illustrations remind of the matter-of-fact silliness of The Christmas Crocodile - one of my favorite Small-illustrated books. In both books the wackiness of the core situation (in The Christmas Crocodile, a family receives a large package delivered to them - bet you can't guess what's inside!) is in sharp relief against the ordinariness of the setting. But in One Cool Friend, once you read to the end, and discover the father's secret, you'll want to go back and re-read the book. There are many clever indications of the father's secret embedded in the pages - another level of humor for readers to enjoy.
This book fits readers on so many levels - those readers who might long for a penguin, those who might long for the understanding of a perfect friend, those who are looking for a place to fit in. Oh! I can't believe I didn't mention it before, but there is also a cool librarian featured in these pages - one more thing to love about this book. All in all, this is a surefire hit, and not to be missed!
One Cool Friend. Toni Buzzeo; pictures by David Small. Dial Books, 2012.
The Christmas Crocodile. Bonny Becker and David Small. Simon & Schuster, 2012.
One Cool Friend borrowed from Lewis & Clark library, The Christmas Crocodile is my personal copy.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Heirs of Prophecy
First of all, I apologize for the long silence. This early summer has been a little bumpy for me, but I have lots of posts waiting to be written, so I promise more regular posts are on their way. Thank you for being patient with me! I was approached to participate in a blog tour for this book, Heirs of Prophecy. I read some reviews that interested me, and I realized I hadn’t written any blog posts about chapter books in a long time, so I decided to give it a go. And this was a fast-paced adventure that kept me reading!
The Riverton family is going on vacation. Their father usually plans the vacations, and he chooses some…unusual places (their last vacation featured Japanese ruins and samurai sword making). But their dad is letting them bring the family cat, Silver, so 14 year old Ryan and 12 year old Aaron figure it can’t be that bad. Well, their vacation doesn’t go quite as planned. The family ends up outside of Tucson, Arizona, exploring caves by canoe. Suddenly, there is a loud rumble, and the cave collapses around them.
This is the Riverton family’s introduction to Trimoria, a world they could not have ever dreamed of. And as they stumble through the forests, trying to find civilization, some unexplainable things begin to happen to them all. Ryan, the oldest son, has what looks like lightning shoot out from his fingers. Aaron, who had been previously described as “diminutive”, shows amazing strength – lifting rocks as if they were hollow. And their mother and father, too, begin to exhibit powers they never had before. As for Silver, well, Silver has grown enormous and even smarter than he was before.
They are incredibly lucky to find the Protector of the area, Throll, on their second day, and even luckier that he believes their story, even though it seems farfetched. As Protector-General of the land, Throll is able to wield some power over the townspeople and gets them to believe that Jared Riverton (the boys’ father)is his old friend from another part of the land. Oddly, Jared Riverton had been interested in blacksmithing back home in the United States, and had created a smithy in their backyard. Here in Aubgherle, there is an urgent need for a blacksmith.
Magic is outlawed in Trimoria, and people who exhibit any type of magical powers (especially babies) mysteriously disappear. So the odd skills that the Rivertons have gained need to be hidden from spies in the town of Aubgherle. They practice these skills in secret, trying to gain control of their powers and learn how they function. It becomes evident that while Ryan is the strongest wizard, his father is also a wizard of some power. Aaron is freakishly strong, and begins to learn a variety of fighting skills and strategies. And their mother, Aubrey, is an incredible healer.
But somehow the wizard who controls the country of Trimoria, Azazel, who is evil, becomes apprised of this unusual family and sets out to destroy them. At the same time a “small” ogre (only seven feet tall at the start of the novel! And a vegetarian!) named Ohaobbok joins Throll’s family and the Rivertons, and he retells a strange prophecy, one that includes himself and the Riverton family. The Rivertons’ inclusion in the prophecy makes sense. Trimoria is nowhere near as technologically advanced as present-day United States, but the skills the Rivertons have honed in their American lives seem to translate well here. For instance, the blacksmithing (along with the samurai sword making vacation) comes in very handy. Jared can actually bring modern technology to creating swords in Trimoria, giving his swords an advantage. Both Ryan and Aaron have studied martial arts for years, and that gives them an advantage as well. All these things seem to point to their destiny – to fulfill the prophecy.
I don’t want to tell too much of the plot, because exploring the country along with the Rivertons and discovering where their destiny lies is part of the ride. And it is definitely a ride. The book is full of magic, elements of fantasy, and some crazy fights. Everything is enthralling, and keeps you reading. This book sped by – I would pick it up and find I had suddenly read 100 pages! It is easy enough for a fifth grader to read, and perfectly suited for a middle grade audience, including plenty of adventure and danger.
The world-building Rothman does is easy to understand. I hate fantasy books where I spend so much time figuring out how things work, or how the universe was created. I often feel that that holds me back from really engaging with the plot, and I’ve been known to not finish fantasies that get overly complicated. While it is a mystery how the Rivertons arrived in Trimoria (the back of the book calls it a ‘fluke of nature’, but could it be something or someone else?), the country of Trimoria itself isn’t overly complicated. It seems to be pretty squarely set in something resembling the Middle Ages, with an emphasis on iron, mining, and blacksmithing. People fight with swords, daggers and bows and arrows, not guns and bombs. And the types of creatures that populate the forests are also familiar – dwarves that mine ore, elves in an amazing magical forest glen, and ogres. But the characterization helps keep these traditional types interesting . I really loved the ogre, Ohaobbok – he is sweet, and yet fights for this family he has come to love.
This book includes many of the “big” fantasy themes – good v. evil, the power of magic, but adds in some new twists. It felt fresh, and made me want to continue on to see how this series gets to the final war and an epic battle. For there will be one – it has been foretold. Generations of Trimorians have the same dream, and the Riverton family is front and center in that dream.
I do have a couple of minor quibbles with Rothman, though. I have a cat of my own, and I would never take him on a family vacation. Especially if I knew that vacation would involve canoeing along a river in addition to a plane ride. I don’t know many cats who would agree to those conditions! Also the Riverton family doesn’t seem to articulate any desire to return to the United States. They seem perfectly happy in Trimoria, and while I’ve already said that they are destined to be there, I can’t help wondering if they will mention a longing for home at some point.
Also, I would have liked a glossary or pronunciation guide for the names. I see that book two (titled Tools of Prophecy) is already out in e-book and will be out in hardback next month, so maybe he will consider it for the prequel or book three, both of which are in the works. I think it’s important to guide readers to the “correct” Trimorian pronunciation for names like Ohaobbok (oh, how I’d love to say that name!), Ealuanni, Azazel, and others. The elven names are particularly tricky. So, please, Mr. Rothman, help us out!
All in all, though, this is a fun, thrilling adventure. I would love to know more about the Rivertons and their adventures in Trimoria, and I hope you’ll take time to explore along with them!
Rothman , Michael A. Heirs of Prophecy. M & S Publishing, 2012.
Sent by TLC Book Tours for review as part of a blog tour.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Thomas Jefferson and John Adams
There is something many of my blog readers may not know about me, and I need to confess it now. I used to work for Colonial Williamsburg. If you don't know about Colonial Williamsburg, go check out the website - among other things, it is one of the biggest living history museums and it is an amazing place. This was a time of my life where I wore a colonial costume to work every day. I told visitors about colonial times, both in my daytime job as a visitor's aide and in my evening job as an interpreter, where I told ghost stories from that time period and gave tours. I loved that job! And for a girl from San Diego, who had been raised on the history of the California missions, it was fascinating to learn more about that time period.
So you might understand why I continue to read books about the time around the Revolutionary War. History came alive for me during my time in Williamsburg, and I like to recognize events I already know something about, and fit that information into the bigger timeline. After working for Colonial Williamsburg, I went on to write my library school master's thesis on Thomas Jefferson's personal library. Am I an expert on Thomas Jefferson? Not even close. In fact, while I knew many of the facts about Thomas Jefferson contained in these two books, I knew very little about his relationship with John Adams. That's where both of these books came in handy.
My first pick is Those Rebels, John & Tom. This book begins with both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams as babies. Kerley sets out to show their differences (and there are many). Sometimes each man has his own page with a few sentences on it (John quite often skipped school, but Tom loved learning and reading). Sometimes, though, the book design features both presidents on one large double-page spread. Then one man takes precedence over the other. For instance, Adams is a debater who loves to argue, and is featured on most of the spread, shouting in the courtroom, while Tom meekly scribbles his ideas at a desk in the far corner of the spread. Both of them have firmly held ideas, but those ideas could not be more different.
Until the time comes to protest against King George's tyranny, that is. At this crucial time in history, both men's differing life experiences bring them to the same breaking point. The American colonies cannot continue on under King George's rule. And from this starting point, the two Founding Fathers begin to come to a mutual understanding and appreciation that eventually helps to create the Declaration of Independence.
Kerley has an infectious way of writing that makes history very readable. She includes the details that make these men interesting to young readers, such as Tom drinking punch in the taverns of Philadelphia. Kerley shows the readers the big picture of this moment in American history without bogging them down. She has a talent for distilling this enormous history into the points that are best told through these men's two contradictory characters. Kerley uses quotes from each man's writing to support her viewpoint of their lives. It helps young readers feel like they are getting to know these historical figures in a very real way. Their lives are so different from ours, but still very human.
I really like this book, and one of the many things I like best about it are the illustrations. Edwin Fotheringham works so well with Kerley's text to depict and expand what's written. Because Kerley has really simplified the text, Fotheringham uses his illustrations to show more of the detail surrounding these men. For instance, Kerley talks about how Thomas Jefferson "lunged, parried, and skewered the policies of King George and his government.". Fotheringham draws Jefferson lunging towards King George, with a bayonet that is really a quill splattering ink all over George. His style is that of an editorial cartoonist, and that brings humor to this story too. As readers mature and learn more sophisticated information about the American Revolution, they will appreciate even more of the detail of these illustrations.
One choice that helps this book feel fresh and modern is the color palette. While other colors are used to highlight or supplement, the primary colors are a sky blue, a rusty red, and a yellow that is almost the color of mustard (I'd love to know what this color is really called!). There is also a deep navy used where you would traditionally see black. These colors are powerful and rich, and even though they feel modern, this book doesn't scrimp on historical accuracy either. Its design, illustrations and text are first-rate.
After I had decided to write about Those Rebels John & Tom, I came across Worst of Friends in our library's catalog, and decided I'd better look at that one, too. What is so interesting is how well these books complement each other. Jurmain looks at some of these men's contradictory personality traits, but she looks at them primarily as adults. She spends very little time talking about the time before the Revolutionary War, where Kerley's book ends with the Declaration of Independence. She moves forward, beginning in 1790. At that time John & Tom had very strong, opposing ideas about how to run the country. John was a Federalist, who believed that the President should have ultimate power to protect the laws and people of the United States. Tom became a Republican who believed that one person should never wield all the power - that the Federalist theory dangerously resembled the British monarchy. But when John became president, Tom was vice president, no matter what they thought of each other's ideas.
In 1800, their feud began when they ran against each other for the office of President, and Jefferson won. They stopped speaking for many years, but finally Adams reached out and mended their rift. The two men agreed to disagree about politics, and instead wrote of many other things in their lives. Their friendship endured until they died on the same day (July 4th) in 1826. This ongoing friendship was truly remarkable.
I think these books work so well together. They both fall squarely in the nonfiction picture book camp. While they both have a lot of information contained within their pages, the text is fairly concise and neither book feels too long. They are both short enough to consider reading aloud, most likely in a classroom setting. While Fotheringham's illustrations are more striking, Day's are traditional, very historically accurate, and with humor in the details. Readers will laugh at Thomas Jefferson, before becoming President, emerging from a women's shop with boxes of corsets for Adams' daughter. Or at Jefferson holding Adams back from fighting with King George after George snubs them both.
But I can't close a post on nonfiction picture books without commenting on their back matter. In Worst of Friends, the "back matter" is actually in the front of the book, where a selected bibliography sits opposite a paragraph entitled "Can Presidents Be Pals?". Those Rebels, John & Tom has much more extensive back matter. Kerley ends the main text with the Declaration of Independence, but she summarizes their lives with a page-long Author's Note. There is a facsimile of the Declaration of Independence across from the Note. Then there is a page full of citations and sources for all of the quotations within the text. This is the kind of back matter I've come to expect in my nonfiction, even for the youngest readers.
Both books gave me a new view of men I had come to know through their contributions to Colonial-era history. I loved getting to know more about their lives and opinions.
Those Rebels, John & Tom. Barbara Kerley; illustrated by Edwin Fotheringham. Scholastic, 2012.
Worst of Friends: Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and the True Story of an American Feud. Suzanne Tripp Jurmain; illustrated by Larry Day. Dutton, 2011.
both books borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
So you might understand why I continue to read books about the time around the Revolutionary War. History came alive for me during my time in Williamsburg, and I like to recognize events I already know something about, and fit that information into the bigger timeline. After working for Colonial Williamsburg, I went on to write my library school master's thesis on Thomas Jefferson's personal library. Am I an expert on Thomas Jefferson? Not even close. In fact, while I knew many of the facts about Thomas Jefferson contained in these two books, I knew very little about his relationship with John Adams. That's where both of these books came in handy.
Until the time comes to protest against King George's tyranny, that is. At this crucial time in history, both men's differing life experiences bring them to the same breaking point. The American colonies cannot continue on under King George's rule. And from this starting point, the two Founding Fathers begin to come to a mutual understanding and appreciation that eventually helps to create the Declaration of Independence.
Kerley has an infectious way of writing that makes history very readable. She includes the details that make these men interesting to young readers, such as Tom drinking punch in the taverns of Philadelphia. Kerley shows the readers the big picture of this moment in American history without bogging them down. She has a talent for distilling this enormous history into the points that are best told through these men's two contradictory characters. Kerley uses quotes from each man's writing to support her viewpoint of their lives. It helps young readers feel like they are getting to know these historical figures in a very real way. Their lives are so different from ours, but still very human.
I really like this book, and one of the many things I like best about it are the illustrations. Edwin Fotheringham works so well with Kerley's text to depict and expand what's written. Because Kerley has really simplified the text, Fotheringham uses his illustrations to show more of the detail surrounding these men. For instance, Kerley talks about how Thomas Jefferson "lunged, parried, and skewered the policies of King George and his government.". Fotheringham draws Jefferson lunging towards King George, with a bayonet that is really a quill splattering ink all over George. His style is that of an editorial cartoonist, and that brings humor to this story too. As readers mature and learn more sophisticated information about the American Revolution, they will appreciate even more of the detail of these illustrations.
One choice that helps this book feel fresh and modern is the color palette. While other colors are used to highlight or supplement, the primary colors are a sky blue, a rusty red, and a yellow that is almost the color of mustard (I'd love to know what this color is really called!). There is also a deep navy used where you would traditionally see black. These colors are powerful and rich, and even though they feel modern, this book doesn't scrimp on historical accuracy either. Its design, illustrations and text are first-rate.
In 1800, their feud began when they ran against each other for the office of President, and Jefferson won. They stopped speaking for many years, but finally Adams reached out and mended their rift. The two men agreed to disagree about politics, and instead wrote of many other things in their lives. Their friendship endured until they died on the same day (July 4th) in 1826. This ongoing friendship was truly remarkable.
I think these books work so well together. They both fall squarely in the nonfiction picture book camp. While they both have a lot of information contained within their pages, the text is fairly concise and neither book feels too long. They are both short enough to consider reading aloud, most likely in a classroom setting. While Fotheringham's illustrations are more striking, Day's are traditional, very historically accurate, and with humor in the details. Readers will laugh at Thomas Jefferson, before becoming President, emerging from a women's shop with boxes of corsets for Adams' daughter. Or at Jefferson holding Adams back from fighting with King George after George snubs them both.
But I can't close a post on nonfiction picture books without commenting on their back matter. In Worst of Friends, the "back matter" is actually in the front of the book, where a selected bibliography sits opposite a paragraph entitled "Can Presidents Be Pals?". Those Rebels, John & Tom has much more extensive back matter. Kerley ends the main text with the Declaration of Independence, but she summarizes their lives with a page-long Author's Note. There is a facsimile of the Declaration of Independence across from the Note. Then there is a page full of citations and sources for all of the quotations within the text. This is the kind of back matter I've come to expect in my nonfiction, even for the youngest readers.
Both books gave me a new view of men I had come to know through their contributions to Colonial-era history. I loved getting to know more about their lives and opinions.
Those Rebels, John & Tom. Barbara Kerley; illustrated by Edwin Fotheringham. Scholastic, 2012.
Worst of Friends: Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and the True Story of an American Feud. Suzanne Tripp Jurmain; illustrated by Larry Day. Dutton, 2011.
both books borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library
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