Oh No, Little Dragon! by Jim Averbeck

Last week my blog was a stop on the Dragon and Dangerous Princess blog tour, in which Jim Averbeck, writer and illustrator of Oh No, Little Dragon! (Atheneum Books, 2012) and Dangerously Ever After, by Dashka Slater (my review).  At that time I hadn't actually had the pleasure of reading Jim's new book, but that has now been remedied!

Oh No, Little Dragon (Atheneum, 2012) is a picture book for the 2 to 4 year old set, a perfect offering for the small child who loves his little fire-breathing colleagues in childhood!  Little Dragon loves ot huff and puff and PHOOSH out fire, but there's a side-effect--sootiness.  Which means bathtime, complete with a toy Viking ship to incinerate.  But when Little Dragon decides to play the part of the Fire Department, the spark inside him goes out!  How will he find his flame again?  And without his flame, will his mama dragon still love him?  Of course she will, and the warmth of her love is just what he's been looking for.

Totally charming.   The pictures are simple, and so is the story, but in a most excellent way.

Along with Oh No,  Little Dragon!  I also received one of Jim Averbeck's earlier books, Except If (Atheneum, 2011).  This one's more sophisticated--in a series of possibilities, the reader/viewer is taken from an egg to a snake to a lizard to a fossilized dinosaur (!), and back again to an egg.   Mind expanding for the young, and one a grown-up can enjoy reading too.


If you didn't get a chance to read Jim Averbeck and Dashka Slater's chat about fantasy books here at my blog tour stop, here's the link again.

Dangerously Ever After--a lovely fantasy picture book

I don't, in general, review picture books, but sometimes one comes my way that demands attention (in a good way). Such a book is Dangerously Ever After, by Dashka Slater, illustrated by Valeria Docampo (Dial, September 13, 2012).

It's the story of Princess Amanita, who loves dangerous things--her pet scorpion, her brakeless bicycle, but most of all, her beautifully, horribly dangerous garden, full of stinging plants, stinking plants, spiky plants...

And then Prince Florian comes to visit:

"Hello," he said.  "Nice flowers."
"They're not at all nice," said Amanita. "Their itch is worse than a thousand mosquito bites."
Then she noticed the prince's sword, which looked very sharp and dangerous.  "Nice sword," she remarked.

Florian's sword unfortunately proves sharp enough to slice off what he assumed were harmless grapes...and the ensuing explosion (they were actually grenapes!) destroys Amanita's wheelbarrow.  By way of apology, he brings her roses, and when Amanita realizes just how beautifully thorny they are, she decides she must grow them in her garden.  So Florian sends seeds...but instead of roses, they sprout noses!

And the noses seem to have allergies (with yucky results).

So off she goes, on her brakeless bicycle, all in a huff, determined to stick the noses in Florian's ears.  Unfortunately, she doesn't know the way to Florian's castle.  And so, for the first time in her life, Amanita, lost in a dark forest,  encounters Danger!  Fortunately, she has a bicycle basket full of Noses....

It's a charming, quirky little story, and the pictures add tons of nuance, humor, and charm (bonus cats!  Bonus sea serpent topiary!  Bonus scorpion stinger pony tale!) There's enough pink to draw in your basic princess lover, and even Amanita's armoured dress is delightful, but the story subverts the standard tropes of the princess genre very nicely.

I also liked the fact that even though Amanita had a rather harrowing time of it, she didn't suddenly switch gears and renounce dangerous things--the story ends with her planting nine of the thorniest rosebushes in her garden.

So all in all, a rather delightful fantasy picture book, one I enjoyed lots!

(disclaimer:  review copy received from the publisher)

John Jensen Feels Different, by Henrik Hovland

Every so often a picture book comes across my path that tickles my fancy so much that I have to share it. And if it can kind of count as fantasy or sci fi, so much the better.

John Jensen Feels Different, by Henrik Hovland (Eerdmans Books for Young Readers; December 16, 2011, translated from the Norwegian) is such a book.

John Jensen, as the title suggests, feel different. He feels different when he's alone, doing mundane things like flossing, and he feels different when he's out in public, or at work. He feels the other passengers on the bus are looking at him.

They aren't, actually. Despite the fact that he is the only crocodile* on a bus full of ordinary people, no one is paying attention to him.

Perhaps, he thinks, it is because he is the only bow tie wearer around. So he stops wearing bow ties. But still he feels different. (Very sad picture of John Jensen walking home in the rain, sans bow tie--not even the little child he passes is glancing at him, but still he feels different).

Then there's a bit that really tickled me--he looks at a picture of his very large family, all crocodiles--"Maybe I was adopted, John Jensen thinks. He doesn't seem to look like anyone else in his family."

So then he tries something drastic--he's noticed he's the only one around with a tail, so he ties it up so as to hide it under his clothes. Not a safe thing to do, and John Jensen ends up in the hospital (after a poignant picture showing him crying in the taxi)--where his doctor turns out to know just what to say to make him feel better about himself.

His doctor just happens to be an elephant (in a hospital of regular people).

Note that the title is not "John Jensen IS Different," though it's clear to the reader that he is. John Jensen never says "Ah! I am different because I am a crocodile." The elephant doctor never says anything about it either. Being an animal seems to be just a normal part of the diversity of this world--and this makes John Jensen's feelings of different-ness just beautifully relevant, and rather powerfully conveys the "people aren't actually busy thinking about you as much as you think they might be" message that some of us have to keep telling ourselves.

And John Jensen ends up wearing bow ties again.

Now, I personally found this a powerful and moving book, and appreciated the dry wit. However, my test subject (handy nine year old boy) said he hated books with crocodiles, didn't like the illustrations, and was not impressed by the story. I'd be real curious to see what littler kids make of it!

Here's the review that made me read the book, at Waking Brain Cells

*definitely a crocodile-you can see his teeth when his mouth is closed.

The Scary Places Map Book, by B.G. Hennessy, illustrated by Erwin Madrid

The Scary Places Map Book: Seven Terrifying Tours, by B.G. Hennessy, illustrated by Erwin Madrid (Candlewick, July 10, 2012, for kids 5, or even a bit younger, and up), takes kids on a series of interactive journeys to fantastically spine-tingling places. Beginning with the Ghostly Galleon Cruise of the Seven Seas, passing through Transylvania (and other spooky places), and ending with a tour of the Museum of Haunted Objects (my favorite) the young reader is first given a small bit of context, and then is directed by the text to pass from one stop on each gridded map, or cutaway of a building, to the next.

Here's an example, from the Museum: "From the Potions Exhibit, take the Crooked Stairs down one flight to the Ghostly Gallery (H3-I3) for a lovey overview of the Rotunda of Possessed Sculpture." It's a lovely way to introduce the concept of co-ordinates!

The illustrations are beautifully detailed--there's lots of scope for engrossed pouring-over-ness. And at the end, the young reader is encouraged to go back and find the hidden extras in each picture.

It's a great one for the kid who likes picture search books, the kid who likes fantasy realms, or simply the random kid who wants something a bit different! It has staying power for the older kid--my own nine-year old passed a pleasant time following the directions as I read them, and even though he's perfectly capable of reading to himself, it is still lovely to enjoy sharing a book like this together.

Although the tours are billed as "terrifying," they aren't actually so much so as to distress the young reader--if your child can handle standard Halloween decorations, it will be just fine.

(disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)

A Little Bitty Man and Other Poems for the Very Young, by Halfdan Rasmussen

A Little Bitty Man and Other Poems for the Very Young, by Halfdan Rasmussen, translated by Marilyn Nelson and Pamela Espeland, and illustrated by Kevin Hawkes (Candlewick, 2011).

I don't review a huge number of poetry picture books (maybe one or two a year), but when I saw the cover of A Little Bitty Man I wanted to read it--I can never say no to snail riders.

Here's the first verse of the titular poem:

"A little bitty man
took a ride on a snail
down little bitty rod that was shady.
The little bitty man
came to Littlebittyland,
where he married a little bitty lady."

And now the snail is shown tethered to a hitching post outside a little bitty house!

The thirteen poems in this book are about half fantasy--there's the little bitty man, of course, and a cloud child, an elf with mice in his pockets, and a doll who runs away, and about half observations on real life--how the seasons change, how to end a fight, and the days of the week, for instance. They were translated from the Danish, and I can't, of course, evaluate how closely they capture the originals. I can say that they were pleasing poems, in rhyme and scansion, with just one jarring word ("partake," for instance, is pretty sophisticated vocabulary for the young, although it's easy to see what it means in context).

But what I can say with confidence is that these poems, especially the fantasy ones, are lovely little sparks for the imagination. The cloud child poem, for instance, tells of a little cloud that just couldn't hold it anymore, and, lacking a potty, let loose on the road...it runs home again, and is scolded by its mom. It seems to me that a cloud child is a lovely thing to have in one's imagination--what adventures will it have next? And what will the little bitty man do next? What might his house look like inside? How do you tame a wild snail? Why does a child have lion for his pet:

Kevin Hawke's illustrations are, for the most part, light in color, and high on detail. They aren't in your face, bright and lavish--rather, they let the reader come to them, balancing the poems nicely.

A Little Bitty Man picked up a starred review from the Horn Book: "Most of the selections aren't more than a few stanzas long, but each one hits you with a bright burst of humor that's like a sip of a fizzy drink on a hot day. . . . Hawkes's pencil and acrylic illustrations highlight the humor and the whimsy of the nonsense verses, but they also underscore the poems' innocence and childlike dignity when called for, and the artist gets the mix exactly right."

And another star from School Library Journal: "The quaint poems have liberal helpings of both wit and whimsy and an occasional sprinkling of mild potty humor. . . . The whole has an uncluttered and inviting effect. Likely to become a classic, this is a great addition to any picture-book collection."

I still think the snail is the best part, but I appreciated the potty humor too, and, more seriously, I found the book as a whole both attractive and interesting.

(disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)

For more poetry goodness, here's this week's Poetry Friday Round-up!

The Backwards Watch, by Eric Houghton, for Timeslip Tuesday

This has been a difficult Timeslip Tuesday, book-wise. I realized yesterday that I wouldn't finish the one I was planning to review, so I switched just before bedtime to one I thought I could finish (Time and Mr. Bass), whose blurb promised "a terrifying test of endurance involving Time itself" which sure sounds to me like time travel, and I did finish it, at lunch time today, but I am uncertain about whether I should count it or not. It was a pretty good couple of paragraphs about scary time travelling ponies, and there were a few visions, but is that enough???? Sigh.

So in any event, I'm falling back on one of my time travel Tuesday emergency books--a picture book that really truly is Time Travel.

The Backwards Watch, by Eric Houghton, illustrated by Simone Abel (Orchard Books, 1991). Sorry for the bad picture; if I'd been able to find a better one, I'd have used it.

Being the sort of girl who climbs trees, its natural that Sally comes inside covered with leaves and twigs. "You are a mess," says her grandfather, taking her up on his lap, and Sally bristles. "When I was your age," he continues, "I would never have got myself so filthy." Sally sniffs, and asks if she can wind his watch...

Somehow she winds it backwards, and "SPLOYNNG!" time starts running backwards too... and as Sally watches in amazement, Granddad un-ages from old man to a little boy about her own age! George and Sally head outside to play in the world of his childhood. They have a fine time in a nearby junkyard, building a castle and a dragon....but then George's dad comes looking for him, and marches George away, scolding him all the while for the mess he's made of himself.

And Sally finds herself back in the present, with a better appreciation of her Granddad.

This is a rare, perhaps unique, example of time travel used in picture book format to bridge generational gaps. It might be a good one to read, perhaps, to four or five year old kids who haven't spent much time with their grandparents, and who have never had a chance to realize their grandparents were once mischievous kids themselves.

I liked the premise lots, but sadly, I found both the art and the story telling uninspired and uninspiring...and I think the didactic message ends up overshadowing the substance of the book. "Insipid" and "bland" are the adjectives Pubishers Weekly used, and I can't really argue with them.

That being said, I feel that Publishers Weekly went Too Far when they said that "Houghton's insubstantial text relies too heavily on the hackneyed plot device of time travel." I resent this. When you are a four year old, you haven't exactly been exposed to a whole heck of a lot of time travel, so how can it be hackneyed? (baby animal looking for/running away from Mama = hackneyed, time travel to granddad's era = fresh exciting new premise for the young reader!). And it's a picture book about a girl who travels back in time--so how can it not rely on time travel as a plot device? Hmph.

The School Library Journal reviewer was much closer to the mark: "Time travel is an unusual theme in picture books, and it's sure to hold children's interest." Thank you, SLJ.

Hatch! by Roxie Munro, for Non-Fiction Monday

It says right up there on my header that I review science fiction and fantasy for kids, and I mostly do. But I also enjoy taking part in the Kidlitosphere's Non-Fiction Monday round-ups (in part because I regret having utterly ignored the non-fiction sections of all my childhood libraries, and in part because my own kids, happily, do not suffer from the same myopia). Today's round-up is at Playing By the Book.

This morning I offer Hatch! written and illustrated by Roxie Munro (Marshall Cavendish, 2011, 40 pages).

Before you have a bird, you have to have an egg. Hatch! introduces young readers to a multitude of bird species from around the world by first showing full page picture of their eggs--"Can you guess whose eggs these are?" A paragraph of clues follows...and then a double page spread showing the bird in its habitat. It's a very friendly, inviting design--the curiosity of the reader is piqued, and then clearly written, simple yet detailed, information is provided by words and pictures.

As well as introducing the birds qua birds, Munro also sets each one neatly into its habitat, explaining in words and pictures where they live, and the other creatures that share their world. And the very last page offers places where one can find out more about birds, and a list of fun bird words to learn.

Fascinating things I learned: when Baltimore orioles migrate, they fly mainly at night (possibly to beat the traffic???)

The eggs of the black-legged kittiwake come in all sorts of distinctive splotch patterns--so the the parents can tell their own nests from the hundreds and even thousands of other eggs in the same colony. (If I was a kittiwake, I would still feel nervous--I don't trust my splotch recognition skills). Owl eggs are white so their parents can find them in the dark (this I could cope with).

A cactus wren has two or three clutches a season, and sometimes an older sibling from the first brood will babysit (only one more year until the my own first brood, as it were, will be old enough to do the same for my second).

We enjoyed this one!

(review copy received from the publisher)

Earth to Clunk, by Pam Smallcomb--a science fiction picture book

Even though my boys have now reached the lofty ages of 8 and 11, with the concomitant expectation that they can read "real" books, we still delight in discovering new picture books. A picture book book can give a nice fast burst of reading fun, and Earth to Clunk, by Pam Smallcomb, illustrated by Joe Berger (Dial, 2011, 40 pages), is just such a book.

The story begins with the illustration on the inside of the cover--a small boy being whacked by his big sister's backpack (and boy, does she have a mean look on her face!). The boy's day does not get better once he gets to school.

"Today Mr. Zookian said I have to write to my pen pal. His name is Clunk.

"He lives on the planet Quazar," said Mr. Zookian. "Write him a letter and send him something from Earth."

Our young hero does not want Anything At All to do with this whole pen pal business. So he decides to send Clunk his sister. "THAT will teach him to have a pen pal from Earth."

And Clunk sends back a Zoid, a friendly floating fluff ball creature.

Then Clunk gets dirty socks.

So the exchanges go, horrible things sent to Clunk, and interesting (although some scary) things arriving in return. But then Mom wants her daughter back, and, along with gross old lasagna from the back of the fridge, her request is passed on to Clunk...

Then nothing comes from Clunk. For ages. And the boy misses the alien packages he'd been getting...

Fast forward a bit to the ending--Clunk comes for a sleepover! The friendly Zoid (now shown with little hearts all around itself) falls hard for the big sister and follows her everywhere (she's not pleased)!

It is a pleasure to see the grumpy protagonist gradually warming to his alien pen pal (and to the ever present Zoid). And although the fun of it all takes center stage, behind the somewhat subversive framework of a kid being completely uncooperative (and mailing off his big sister to an alien planet) there's a positive message. Things that you don't want to do can actually work out well--in this case, with new friends are made and new experiences appreciated (mostly!).

The writing is simple, but gets right to the point--good, I think, for the early independent reader (and, as I said at the beginning, fun for older kids too!). The illustrations add whimsical life to the somewhat matter-of-fact tone of the narration (especially all the expressions of the Zoid--I loved the Zoid!), making this book one to enjoy lots.

Fantasy picture books seem much more common than science fiction, but the science fiction ones are generally more amusing (Once Upon a Cool Motorcycle Dude excepted). Here's a post where I list a few other examples; if you have a favorite sci fi picture book of your own, funny or not, do let me know!

Other reviews of Earth to Clunk can be found at Waking Brain Cells, and You Know, For Kids

The Greedy Sparrow, retold by Lucine Kasbarian

I don't review picture books all that often, but sometimes a. I don't have the time or inclination to read/write about longer books and b. nice picture books come in the mail.

So today I offer The Greedy Sparrow: an Armenian Tale, retold by Lucine Kasbarian, and illustrated by Maria Zaikina (Marshall Cavendish, 2011, 32 pages). It tells of a sparrow, who got a thorn in his foot. A baker pulls it out, but is taken aback when the sparrow returns a little while later, asking for its thorn back...the thorn has been burned, so the sparrow demands (and gets) bread in exchange. And from there the sparrow follows the same pattern of tricksy manipulation to move from bread to sheep, a sheep that ends up being slaughtered at wedding feast.

So the sparrow asks for the bride, and gets her! But it's not until the sparrow ends up with a minstrel's lute that he's happy...for a very brief while....

I knew this story already from Alan Garner's telling of it in his story collection, Bag of Moonshine, in which the sparrow is considerably more obnoxious! In this re-telling, it's the pictures almost more than the words that convey the pushy determination of the bird--Zaikina's sparrow is fierce and focused, and I loved it very much! I loved her sheep too, especially the expression on its face as the sparrow flies off with it in his claws (shown on the cover)! And the illustrations in themselves have lovey stained-glassy look them--with heavy outlines and rich colors.

Kasbarian, herself Armenian, learned this story as a child, and sets it firmly in an Armenian setting, which I appreciated. For instance, "the sparrow and the bride traveled the mountains and valleys of the Caucasus." Garner's sparrow is very English, and very amusing, but I enjoyed meeting the sparrow on his home ground!

And for those who worry about the bride--even though her new husband makes no effort to keep her from the sparrow, she manages to escape on her own!

disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher

Charlie and Kiwi: an Evolutionary Adventure, for Timeslip Tuesday

Looking for a great book to use to help your young child understand the driving force behind evolution? Try Charlie and Kiwi: an Evolutionary Adventure (Atheneum, June, 2011, 48 pages). Peter H. Reynolds, Fablevision, and the New York Hall of Science teamed up to create a picture book that does a brilliant job clearly explaining the principle of survival of the fittest, with the science set in an engaging narrative of a time-travel adventure.

Young Charlie picks the kiwi as the subject of his bird report in school, bringing in his own newly acquired stuffed kiwi as an example. But the other children are doubtful--"Izzat a bird? Where's the wings?" asks one. And Charlie, when asked why the kiwi is so very different from other birds, draws a blank.

Fortunately, his stuffed kiwi is ready to help out, taking Charlie back in time (the box Kiwi came in magically becomes a time travel machine) to meet his many times great grandfather. Together Charles Darwin, Kiwi, and Charlie go on an evolutionary adventure, to observe first hand the ancestral proto-kiwis of New Zealand. And then they head back even further in time, to see for themselves how birds evolved from dinosaurs.

My kids and I thought this was a great book--we were charmed by the stuffed kiwi, and thought the explanation of natural selection/survival of the fittest was interesting and clearly explained. It might be a bit wordy for some picture book affectionados, but for kids with an interest in science and nature, I recommend it highly.

Here's Grandpa Charles beginning his explanation of natural selection:

"Long ago, maybe kiwis were more like regular birds.
Maybe they had wings and flew.
But say one family was a little bit different.
Say some stayed on the ground a little more and smelled bugs
a little better. They'd be safer, and catch more dinner...."

I love the idea of using a time-travel story in an educational way--I vaguely feel that lots of books say "let's go back in time," but one like this, that uses a fictional narrative, with engaging characters and touches of humor, is very rare indeed. (It's the first time I've ever applied my fantasy label and my non-fiction label simultaneously!)

(and it's awfully nice that Charlie is a kid of color)

Mother Goose Picture Puzzles, by Will Hillenbrand, for Poetry Friday

For Poetry Friday, and also for Tidy Up Loose Books Day (which we actually celebrate every day in our house), I offer Mother Goose Picture Puzzles, by Will Hillenbrand (Marshall Cavendish, 2011, 40 pp).

My own children learned their Mother Goose rhymes with the same Richard Scarry book that I had when I was young, but if I had had on hand a copy of Mother Goose Picture Puzzles I would most definitely have read it to them early and often. Likewise, if I had a two- or three-year-old to buy a book gift for, this would be on my list.

Hillenbrand's version of Mother Goose incorporates rebus-es (rebi?) into twenty of the classic nursery rhymes (ie, there are pictures of "mouse" and "clock" instead of the words in Hickory Dickory Dock). The pictures are (for the most part) self-evident to even a little one, but what makes it fun is that the things pictured appear in the larger illustrations with word labels. This adds another interactive element to the book, as you try to find the word that goes with each picture, and is a nice way to acquire a bit of word recognition.

I would have loved it as a two-year old (I'm pretty sure), and I wish I had it when my own boys were two or three! I enjoy Hillenbrand's illustrations lots in general, and the ones in this book are particularly charming.

disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher, and it is off to be donated the library today, which will give me a sense of accomplishment all out of proportion to the actual progress made viz moving books off of temporary storage piles and into more permanent homes.

The Poetry Friday Round-up is at Check It Out today!

Just in Time, Abraham Lincoln, by Patricia Polacco, for Timeslip Tuesday

Just in Time, Abraham Lincoln, by Patricia Polacco (a picture book from Putnam Juvenile, 2011)

Michael and Derek are dismayed when their grandmother confiscates their stash of electronic divertissements on the train to Washington, D.C. The chance to meet an expert on the Civil War at Harper's Ferry, West Virginia, does not seem like an exciting exchange, and indeed, they find his collection of Civil War photographs, taken by Mathew Brady on the battlefields of the war. However, dressing up in authentic Union uniforms is not without its appeal, as the war is not entirely without interest to the boys:

"Hey, I had a video game about the battle of Gettysburg," Derek chirped. "I blew away four hundred soldiers all by myself. I think I set a record."

So when the museum director offers them a chance to play a Civil War game, involving a visit to Antietam (the bloodiest conflict of the Civil War) just after the battle, the boys are keen to go. Dressed in their uniforms, they pass through a door....and are back in the past.

There they find themselves taking the roles of Mathew Brady's assistants, as he prepares to photograph Abraham Lincoln meeting General McClellan on the battlefield. And there, on the battlefield, still littered with corpses, they learn that war is not a game.

Abraham Lincoln is there with them, deeply saddened by the carnage. Michael cannot restrain himself, and comforts Lincoln by telling him the North will win the war, the country will remain united, and that a black man will become president, and as proof, in one of the more powerful moments of the book, shows Lincoln a 2007 penny.

But the boys must get back to Harper's Ferry before their time in the past runs out....and there are still enemy troops in the area....

This is the only example I know of that combines picture-book format with time travel to offer a historical lesson. The lesson aspect felt to me a tad heavy-handed, but this is not unexpected, given the limited amount of text one can put in a picture book. Likewise, there's a bit of stiffness in the framing device used--the reader, like the boys, is not sure for the first part of the story if things are going to get interesting.

Once things get going, it does become tremendously gripping.

"But then the photographer moaned, "Oh, my God! Over here." Through a small woods, he'd come upon a low hill with a shed on it. Then Michael saw what the photographer saw. Behind the shed were three soldiers, one sitting, one on his side as if he were swimming, stiff and not moving. Two wore blue, one wore gray."

They are, of course, dead, and this is when the two boys realize that this is no game. The two double-page, wordless illustrations of the battlefield, littered with corpses, literally made my eight year old's jaw drop with horror--here's one of them, from the author's website:
Clearly, this isn't a bedtime picture book for the very young child, but for the older reader (around 8) it is an excellent introduction to the Civil War, and to the horror of war in general. I think, both because of the rather slow start and because of the disturbing subject matter, this is one that works best read aloud.

Here are other reviews, at The Fourth Musketeer and Page in Training

Three fantasy pop-up books of great gorgeousness

I got a lovely surprise the week before last, when a box arrived containing three extraordinary pop-up books from Candlewick's Encyclopedia Mythologica series--Dragons & Monsters, Gods and Heroes, and Fairies and Magical Creatures, written and illustrated by Matthew Reinhart and Robert Sabuda (of Encyclopedia Prehistorica fame). To call these "pop-up books" does them injustice--rather they are books in which intricate paper art springs (very impressively! small exclamations were elicited!) into lovely three-dimensional wonderful-ness!


It is the paper art that dominates these books--I found it hard to take my eyes from the central creations. And there are numerous side flaps to open as well, making for much fun and excitement. But once I focused on the text, I was pleased to find it crisp and interesting.

These books include myths and fabulous creatures from around the world--like the lovely Chinese dragon on the cover of Dragons and Monsters (although still weighted a tad too much for my taste towards Europe). In Gods and Heroes, for instance, you get one double spread on Egypt, one on the classical pantheon, one on "mortal champions of the old world", one on "mighty Eastern Dynasties," and one on "Great Spirits of the New World."

Even though much of the ground covered is familiar territory, Reinhart includes enough things I had never heard of to make it interesting to the reader who's already read lots about gods, monsters, and fairies.

For instance, from Dragons and Monsters, I learned of the "Leech of Doom"--"According to Algonquian belief, bloodthirsty, horned leeches known as weewilmekq lurk below raging river rapids and at the foot of crashing waterfalls." And on the same page, I learned about the monster in Russia's Lake Brosno, that rose up from the waters to devour a 13th century Mongol army (page 8).

Fascinating!

Even more so than most pop-up books, these need to be handled with care. My boys (ten and eight) were able to gently and safely unfold and close again all the lovely pictures; I, myself, am paper-folding-challenged, and ran into a bit of trouble turning the page on the Yeti. I had to get my son to do it. So I don't thing you would want to give this to a young child (say, younger than 5), to look at alone.

That being said, there is nothing better than sharing a book, such as these are, that makes you squeak with excitement when you turn the page, and find, for instance, the Argo of Greek legend coming right out at you! And it's much more fun to look at a three-dimensional Alfheim in company. So although this is a great book for an older kid (or grown-up) to enjoy on their own, I think that any of these books would be a perfect grandparent gift of the sort that guarantees quality sofa time together!

For the younger child, Fairies and Magical Creatures might be best:
Dragons and Monsters is a bit scary....here's a picture that made me squeak:
But on the other hand, that's the only really scary one, and I do like the dragon very much (the picture doesn't do it justice. I can say, with conviction, that it is the most gorgeous pop-up dragon I've ever seen in a book).

Ferret Fun, by Karen Rostoker-Gruber, illustrated by Paul Ratz de Tagyos

Due to the exigencies* of life, I do not have my beautifully insightful, articulate etc review extolling the virtues (and they are many) of The Midnight Gate, by Helen Stringer, ready to post yet. So some ferrets are filling in.

As far as I'm concerned, the only drawback to Ferret Fun, by Karen Rostoker-Gruber, illustrated by Paul Ratz de Tagyos (Marshall Cavendish, 2011) is that it will make your child pine for a ferret of their own. This utterly charming picture book, presented in graphic novel-esque panels, tells of two ferret friends who are confronted with a visiting cat. The cat is not a friend; when he sees the ferrets, he sees "double-rat snack pack."

And so the ferrets must determine just how they can survive the visit of this malevolent predator.

"We could ignore her." says one.

"She'll bug us more." says the other.

"We could run away."

"Then who would feed us raisins?"

"It's no use. We're doomed."

But soon the courage of the ferrets is revitalized, and in a bold full page spread that underlines the power of Determination in the face of Bullying, the ferrets take a stand. (Yay, ferrets!)

And all becomes well.

Share this one to your little one who is learning to read. It's perfect for the sort of reading in which your child takes one or two parts to read, and you take the rest. You can also leave this one around for your eight and ten year old boys to read and re-read--my boys got a kick out of it, as did I!

The pictures of the ferrets are awfully charming. I almost want one, or two, ferret friends myself....

disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher

*(how is exigencies pronounced, btw? EXigencies or exIgencies?)

The Secret Box, by Barbara Lehman, for Timeslip Tuesday

The Secret Box, by Barbara Lehman (2011), is a very rare type of book indeed-- a wordless picture book about magical journeys through time and space.

"What if a child's treasure box from the past could provide...a connection between people, places, and time?" wondered Lehman. And from that idea came a wordless picture book that is either hauntingly mysterious and wonderful, or confusing. Or both, which is fine--if there's enough of a hook (which I'd argue there is here) confusion leads to slower re-reading, savouring the details, and engaging with the illustrations to make the story one's own.

A long time ago, a boy hides a box beneath the floorboards in the attic of his school. Time passes, and around the school a city grows...and one day, up in the same attic room where their beds are, three boys find that same box. They open it, and inside they find clues--pictures, maps, and an old postcard--that lead them to a magical place outside of normal time, Seahorse Pier.

There at Seahorse Pier they are welcomed by a crowd of boys from ages past. And then the book ends with two more boys, finding the same box, and reading on the postcard, "Greetings from Seahorse Pier." It's easy to bet that they will soon be off on the journey themselves....

I think this a lovely springboard for the imagination. We never know who these boys are...and so their stories become ones for readers to muse about on their own. Although I see no reason why a five or six year old wouldn't enjoy it, I think it is rather perfect for the older reader of picture books, kids like my own ten year old who still enjoy (and why not?) the quick flights of fancy they provide. In this case, the crossover to older kids is rather effective because it's very much like a short graphic novel, requiring much the same concentration from the reader to meld the visual with the story. At any event, he's read this about five time since we've had it.

You can find more pictures from the book at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, and here's another review at Waking Brain Cells.

added bonus: I get to put a "reading in color" label on this one, thanks to the kid shown in the picture above, who's one of the main characters. This bring me up to two fantasy picture books in my multicultural sci fi/fantasy list (above). (The other is the lovely Chalk, by Bill Thompson). I've never actively looked for these, but do leave me any recommendations you may have for others.

Super-Dragon, written by Steven Kroll, illustrated by Douglas Holgate

I am off to another archaeology conference, this time as part of a panel on digitizing regional archaeological information. All of the professional business of the past week has meant less time to read, but I've received several picture books to review, and managed to finish one of them....

So today I offer Super-Dragon, written by Steven Kroll, illustrated by Douglas Holgate (Marshall Cavendish, 2011, 28 pages).

Drago (a little dragon) longs to compete in the upcoming Dragon Contests. But "You're too little," says his obnoxious big sister. "You don't know how to fly yet," says his mother. "Maybe next year...when you're bigger," says his dad.

Fortunately, a friendly bird takes Drago under its wings, and, after a few brave tries, Drago is flying!!! For two weeks, he secretly practices...and you can guess how it all plays out.

It's fun and engaging; any little kid who likes dragons, and who sometimes feels Too Young, will enjoy it. And for those of us who are Manatee (as opposed to Tiger) Mothers, it's nice to have book on The Importance of Practicing to offer our children, in hopes that they will pick up the message themselves without us having to constantly loom over their shoulders!

(disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)

Zog, by Julia Donaldson --a dragon picture book in verse

Zog, by Julia Donaldson, illustrated by Axel Scheffler (Alison Green Books, 2010 in the UK)


By happy chance the Book Depository accidentally included this picture book in with my recent order, and said I was welcome to keep it. I'd heard about this one--it was the winner of the Galaxy Children's Book Award in 2010, and Julia Donaldson was well known to me already as the author of The Gruffalo.

"Madam Dragon ran a school, many moons ago.
She taught young dragons all the things that dragons need to know.

Zog, the biggest dragon, was the keenest one by far.
He tried his hardest every day to win a golden star."

But alas for Zog! He is rather accident prone, and his efforts to fly, roar, and breath fire all come to painful conclusions. Happily, he is rescued each time by a girl who ministers to his hurts...and when it comes time for the next test of draconic ability, Princess Kidnapping, Pearl is there for him again, kindly allowing herself to be captured.

Pearl stays with the dragons, serving as their resident doctor...but princess kidnapped by dragons have a habit of attracting knights who want to rescue them (even if they don't want to be rescued).

"A year went by, and in Year Five, the dragons learned to fight.
"Right!" said Madam Dragon. "Here comes a real live knight!"

"Up spoke the knight: "My name," he said,
"is Gadabout the Great.
I've come to rescue Princess Pearl.
I hope I'm not too late."

But all ends happily, with Pearl, the knight, and Zog setting off to begin a new career as the Flying Doctors.

It's fun, it's charming, and it has a nice point. The verse in which it is written both scans nicely and has great swing to it. I don't quite see it as an award winner myself, but Zog and co are truly likable dragons who should delight the young reader.

It's handy to have a book in verse to contribute to Poetry Friday! The round-up is at Carol's Corner today.

Dinosaur Dream, by Dennis Nolan, for Timeslip Tuesday

Having failed to finish reading the book that was supposed to be today's Timeslip story (not because it was a bad book, but because of mundane things), I am falling back on one of the very few picture books I can think of that involve time travel (actually, I can't think of any others right now, but they must exist? yes?). So anyway.

Dinosaur Dream, written and illustrated by Dennis Nolan (Macmillan, 1990). Wilbur (a boy who bears an uncanny resemblance to my own) is obsessed with dinosaurs. His room is full of them--bedspread, posters, toys...and his favorite book is Through the Ages. One night, as he is reading it in bed, he hears a tapping at his window. It is a baby Apatosaur! Wilbur quickly realizes that he can't hide a young herbivore for long, so he decides to take the dinosaur, who he's named Gideon (after Gideon Mantell) home.

The two set of through the night woods. Soon they find themselves trudging through snow--they've walked back into the ice age!!! Narrowly escaping a saber-toothed cat, they head deeper into the past, into the Age of Mammals. Past volcanic eruptions, into the Cretaceous, where they have an alarming encounter with a triceratops, and an even closer call with a T-Rex. But that's not far enough....at last the two comrades plunge over a waterfall into the Jurassic! And the baby Apatosaur is home with its parents!

But Wilbur knows he can't stay in the past, no matter how fascinating it is. At last the largest Apatosaur gives him a ride home, back to the safety of his own bed.

The title makes it clear that the mechanics of time travel are a dream, and it is, after all, a picture book for children, who are, I think, more ready to accept that time travel just happens. For the child reader, it is as magical journey, brought to life by beautifully detailed pictures. It's one of the few books where child and dinosaurs co-exist in realistic illustrations, as if it could really happen. And the time travel device works well a way to frame the story of the millenia that separate the dinosaur obsessed kid from the objects of his affections!

My boys both liked this book lots--one primarily for the "science" aspect of it, and one for the scene where the baby dinosaur and his mama and dada are reunited (and the saber tooth cat), and both for the dreamlike pictures...

Once Upon a Royal Superbaby

Once upon a time, a boy and a girl were asked to collaborate on a story. The result of their clashing styles was the hilarious 2005 picture book, Once Upon a Cool Motercycle Dude (written and illustrated by Kevin O'Malley, and also illustrated by Carol Hayer and Scott Goto).

Now the fairy tale telling duel begins again, when the same two kids (and the same creative writer/illustrator team) must tell another story-- and out of their competing narratives comes Once Upon a Royal Superbaby (Bloomsbury, 2010).

Will beautiful baby Sweet Piper, friend of the birds and darling of his mother, Queen Tenderheart, survive? Or will his alter ego, heavily muscled Strong Viper, ride his motorcycle to victory?

The boy and the girl snap at each other in comic book style speech bubbles, while behind them their stories come to life (one illustrator for her, in sweet pretty style, and one for him, bolder and darker). Neither kid is at all happy, until the story takes hold of their young minds, and their imaginations work as one...(and their characters all ride off on a robotic unicorn).

This is seriously funny. It will make little kids laugh with its obvious silliness; it will make grown- up fans of fairy tales laugh with its more subtle satire (as well as its silliness).

I asked my son which narrative (Strong Viper or Sweet Piper) he preferred. He answered: "You have to have them both; otherwise it's not interesting." Truly it is the conflict between the two versions of the story that makes this so entertaining. I liked it so much that I just nominated it for the Cybils Awards in the picture book category.

(disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)

Chalk, by Bill Thomson, a fantasy picture book

And now for something completely different-- a wordless picture book that beautifully tells a fantastical story.

Chalk, by Bill Thomson (2010, Marshall Cavendish).

Three kids, on a rainy day, walk through a playground. There they find a ride-on bouncy T-rex holding a shopping bag in its jaws, and inside are sticks of sidewalk chalk. A girl draws the sun, and the sun comes out, dazzling in the brightness reflected by the puddles. A girl draws the outlines of butterflies, and monarchs take flight around her. And what does the boy draw? A T-rex! (typical).

Panic ensues when the chalk works its magic again. But fortunately the boy keeps his head, and draws the one thing that will save them from the T-rex's ravenous jaws....

This one just tickled me to pieces. For a wordless picture book, it sure tells a good story...the sort of imaginative story that makes the reader (looker?) launch into daydreams of their own. It could almost really happen... and the fantasy of the story is given even more magic by its contrast with the realism of the illustrations, which are beautifully detailed. My own boys, at the ripe old ages of 9 and 7, weren't that interested, but for a four year old, or thereabouts, I bet this would be pure enchantment. I liked it lots myself.

Added bonus: the three kids are a diverse bunch-- black, Asian, and white. Drawback (tongue in cheek): Might suggest to girls that boys have poor impulse control and don't always think things through the same way they themselves do.

Other thoughts at Muddy Puddle Musings, My Book Retreat, and The Children's Book Compass.

(Disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)