It's happening, my friends. Slowly but surely, Sprout is turning into a book nut. Squeeeee!
This was particularly evident a few weeks back, when we spent the weekend in Portland for a brief not-quite-ready-for-kindergarten-to-begin getaway. Of course a major stop on our trip was Powell's (really, is it possible to go to Portland and NOT go?), where Sprout proclaimed that "I could just live in this bookstore, Mom!"
By far the best souvenir of the weekend, in his estimation, was the newly published Otis and the Scarecrow, a title I had intended to purchase on the sly and save for the holidays. It was all over, though, once Sprout saw the bookstore display -- and truth be told, neither Hubs nor I could wait either, as we are both huge fans of Loren Long's precocious little red tractor as well. I'm thrilled to say that we've read all of the Otis titles so far, and this one absolutely lives up to the legacy, even throwing in a bit of an ambiguous aspect just to pique young reader's curiosity.
The story is very straightforward, as you might expect from Otis. This time there's a new addition to farm life in the form of a scarecrow, and of course the farm friends are excited to meet this mysterious fellow. But the scarecrow remains aloof and doesn't respond to any of the animals' overtures, so everyone decides to leave him be. As the summer turns into fall, a rainy day sets in, so Otis and the crew gather under the apple tree to play the quiet game. Then Otis notices the scarecrow, all alone in the field, and Otis being Otis, he just can't leave the scarecrow to his loneliness. The result is a lesson in kindness for readers young and old.
It's pretty hard to quantify just how much I love these books. Long has created a character in Otis that resonates with all readers, a set of characters that are timeless and enduring. Sprout is crazy for these books, and for good reason - the stories are thoughtfully told, with perfect pacing and illustrations that a reader can get lost in. (Seriously, they would make great artwork for a nursery - if you could bring yourself to take apart a copy of the book to frame the spreads!) In Otis and the Scarecrow, the outcome is a little more uncertain, but this just adds to the charm, and was a great touch for readers like Sprout who have literally grown up with Otis as a friend.
With Otis and the Scarecrow, we now have a title for all seasons - but I sincerely hope Long isn't done with the little red tractor. Sprout (and Mom and Daddy) can hardly wait for more!
Otis and the Scarecrow by Loren Long, published by Philomel Books
Ages 2-5
Source: Our collection
First line: "It was summer when the scarecrow first came to the farm where the friendly little tractor named Otis lived, back when the corn was tall and ripe."
Highly recommended
Showing posts with label Caldecott hopeful. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Caldecott hopeful. Show all posts
Monday, October 6, 2014
Monday, November 18, 2013
30 Days of Picture Books - Journey by Aaron Becker
It's Day 11 of our 30 Days of Picture Books. A reader asked the other day if we read a new book every night - the short answer is no, especially lately, because we have been reading chapter books at bedtime more frequently (Ralph S. Mouse by Beverly Cleary is the current pick). But we do read quite a few new books every week, and revisit old favorites too. There are some picture books we just can't get enough of!
Today's title, Journey by Aaron Becker, is a bit different in that it's a wordless book. This type of picture book is tough for me, because my initial reaction on hearing that a particular title is to think "Oh, but I don't like wordless books." I don't know why I feel that way, since honestly I've enjoyed a number of wordless and near-wordless titles (Jerry Pinkney's The Lion and the Mouse is probably the most notable of these). But that's always what goes through my mind. Luckily there are plenty of terrific titles out there to prove me wrong, and Journey is a notable recent addition to this sub-section of picture books.
The story Becker has laid out is a familiar theme in many kidlit titles (traces of Harold and the Purple Crayon linger in the mind), but it receives an entirely new and fresh treatment in this peerless pictorial. A young girl, bored and lonely, tries to engage her family members in some activity with no success. Slumped on her bed, she suddenly spies a red crayon in the corner of her room, and, thinking quickly, she draws an archway on her wall and escapes through the door that appears. Immediately she's transported from her colorless existence to a world of shimmering beauty - a forest with golden lanterns strung from tree to tree. There's a stream there, and a dock, so, doing what nearly anyone with a magic crayon would, our heroine draws herself a boat, and she's off.
This is the kind of book kids crave, in my experience. The fantasy world that Becker's created here is the stuff of a young child's dreams, and the pictures are such works of craftsmanship that one could easily lose oneself in them for a long time. Each new spread reveals a new turn in the story, and the fun is in seeing how the girl will use her crayon (and her wits) to keep the adventure going. The girl's everyday world is echoed in the realms of imagination she explores, and the final turn in the story provides an ending that's satisfying and yet completely unexpected. This may be Becker's debut, but I sincerely hope it's not the last we'll see of him - this is a fierce and uniquely talented artist.
For all those who think that picture books are just for very young children, Journey will prove them wrong. There is a depth and complexity to this narrative that is sure to mesmerize any adult. That is, if you can pry it away from your kids.
Journey by Aaron Becker, published by Candlewick Press
Today's title, Journey by Aaron Becker, is a bit different in that it's a wordless book. This type of picture book is tough for me, because my initial reaction on hearing that a particular title is to think "Oh, but I don't like wordless books." I don't know why I feel that way, since honestly I've enjoyed a number of wordless and near-wordless titles (Jerry Pinkney's The Lion and the Mouse is probably the most notable of these). But that's always what goes through my mind. Luckily there are plenty of terrific titles out there to prove me wrong, and Journey is a notable recent addition to this sub-section of picture books.
The story Becker has laid out is a familiar theme in many kidlit titles (traces of Harold and the Purple Crayon linger in the mind), but it receives an entirely new and fresh treatment in this peerless pictorial. A young girl, bored and lonely, tries to engage her family members in some activity with no success. Slumped on her bed, she suddenly spies a red crayon in the corner of her room, and, thinking quickly, she draws an archway on her wall and escapes through the door that appears. Immediately she's transported from her colorless existence to a world of shimmering beauty - a forest with golden lanterns strung from tree to tree. There's a stream there, and a dock, so, doing what nearly anyone with a magic crayon would, our heroine draws herself a boat, and she's off.
This is the kind of book kids crave, in my experience. The fantasy world that Becker's created here is the stuff of a young child's dreams, and the pictures are such works of craftsmanship that one could easily lose oneself in them for a long time. Each new spread reveals a new turn in the story, and the fun is in seeing how the girl will use her crayon (and her wits) to keep the adventure going. The girl's everyday world is echoed in the realms of imagination she explores, and the final turn in the story provides an ending that's satisfying and yet completely unexpected. This may be Becker's debut, but I sincerely hope it's not the last we'll see of him - this is a fierce and uniquely talented artist.
For all those who think that picture books are just for very young children, Journey will prove them wrong. There is a depth and complexity to this narrative that is sure to mesmerize any adult. That is, if you can pry it away from your kids.
Journey by Aaron Becker, published by Candlewick Press
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Lucky Ducklings by Eva Moore {The Children's Bookshelf}
To Eva Moore, author and Nancy Carpenter, illustrator:
You are both responsible for my early wake-up call the other day -- 4:30 a.m., to be exact.
Let me explain. Your picture book, Lucky Ducklings, so captivated my young Sprout that after we read this delightful tome at bedtime, he apparently thought about it all night long. Then at 4:30 in the morning, he came and woke me up, saying, "We need to read this again, Mama. Right now, okay?". I was able to forestall him until 5:15, but no longer. And that was only accomplished because he parked himself on the floor next to my bed and paged through the book, examining each of Ms. Carpenter's engaging illustrations in detail and repeating the names of the ducklings in question ("Pippin, Bippin, Tippin, Dippin and last of all - Little Joe").
I blame myself, really. I should have known better than to bring home a book that fairly drips with charm, through both its simple yet stirring text, courtesy of Ms. Moore, and of course those darling pictures. I should have known that a book so reminiscent of other classics (Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey being the obvious, yet unavoidable, parallel), would be bound to seize hold in Sprout's imagination. When we first read through your book -- a tale set in an idyllic little town, of a mama duck and her five babies, who are placed in danger when they fall through a storm drain -- I could have guessed that the story would be the kind that would linger in my boy's mind. And the rescue of the ducklings, by the city firefighters and an enterprising citizen, is the stuff of little boy's dreams. But an early morning request to read it "one more time"? That didn't figure into my plans.
And, I should note that we've read Lucky Ducklings every evening since, and that each time I forget to add it to the book stack I am roundly chided by Sprout for the oversight. I should also note that it's quite clear we need to return this to our library and buy a copy for ourselves post-haste, as this is the sort of book Sprout will remember and want for his own little ones some day.
Not only has your book resulted in my own lack of sleep (and the need for a little extra caffeine that morning), but it's also responsible for some of the sweetest storytimes we've had together in recent memory, as our whole family pores over this enchanting title together.
I hope you are both happy.
Sincerely,
Mary Kinser
P.S. - Of course now I'll have to seek out more work by each one of you, because Sprout is completely won over by both Ms. Moore's text and Ms. Carpenter's lovely drawings. But you better believe I'll plan an earlier bedtime first.
Lucky Ducklings by Eva Moore, published by Scholastic Press
All ages
Source: Library
First lines: "The Duck family lived in a pretty pond in a green, green park, in a sunlit little town at the end of a long, long island."
Highly recommended
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
This post is part of The Children’s Bookshelf, a weekly linky party with the goal of connecting parents with great books for their kids. Do you have a book review, literacy or book-related post that you think will be helpful for parents? If so, please add your link below.
NOTE: By linking up you are giving permission for any of the co-hosts to pin and/or feature a your photo on a future The Children’s Bookshelf post. Kindly link up to an individual post, not your blog’s homepage. The hosts reserve the right to delete any links to homepages, commercial links, repeat links or otherwise inappropriate links. Thank you for your understanding.
You can also follow The Children’s Bookshelf on Pinterest or visit TCB’s co-hosts: Sprout’s Bookshelf, What Do We Do All Day?, No Twiddle Twaddle, Smiling Like Sunshine, My Little Bookcase, The Picture Book Review, MemeTales and Mouse Grows, Mouse Learns. You can find more details here.
You are both responsible for my early wake-up call the other day -- 4:30 a.m., to be exact.
Let me explain. Your picture book, Lucky Ducklings, so captivated my young Sprout that after we read this delightful tome at bedtime, he apparently thought about it all night long. Then at 4:30 in the morning, he came and woke me up, saying, "We need to read this again, Mama. Right now, okay?". I was able to forestall him until 5:15, but no longer. And that was only accomplished because he parked himself on the floor next to my bed and paged through the book, examining each of Ms. Carpenter's engaging illustrations in detail and repeating the names of the ducklings in question ("Pippin, Bippin, Tippin, Dippin and last of all - Little Joe").
I blame myself, really. I should have known better than to bring home a book that fairly drips with charm, through both its simple yet stirring text, courtesy of Ms. Moore, and of course those darling pictures. I should have known that a book so reminiscent of other classics (Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey being the obvious, yet unavoidable, parallel), would be bound to seize hold in Sprout's imagination. When we first read through your book -- a tale set in an idyllic little town, of a mama duck and her five babies, who are placed in danger when they fall through a storm drain -- I could have guessed that the story would be the kind that would linger in my boy's mind. And the rescue of the ducklings, by the city firefighters and an enterprising citizen, is the stuff of little boy's dreams. But an early morning request to read it "one more time"? That didn't figure into my plans.
And, I should note that we've read Lucky Ducklings every evening since, and that each time I forget to add it to the book stack I am roundly chided by Sprout for the oversight. I should also note that it's quite clear we need to return this to our library and buy a copy for ourselves post-haste, as this is the sort of book Sprout will remember and want for his own little ones some day.
Not only has your book resulted in my own lack of sleep (and the need for a little extra caffeine that morning), but it's also responsible for some of the sweetest storytimes we've had together in recent memory, as our whole family pores over this enchanting title together.
I hope you are both happy.
Sincerely,
Mary Kinser
P.S. - Of course now I'll have to seek out more work by each one of you, because Sprout is completely won over by both Ms. Moore's text and Ms. Carpenter's lovely drawings. But you better believe I'll plan an earlier bedtime first.
Lucky Ducklings by Eva Moore, published by Scholastic Press
All ages
Source: Library
First lines: "The Duck family lived in a pretty pond in a green, green park, in a sunlit little town at the end of a long, long island."
Highly recommended
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
This post is part of The Children’s Bookshelf, a weekly linky party with the goal of connecting parents with great books for their kids. Do you have a book review, literacy or book-related post that you think will be helpful for parents? If so, please add your link below.
NOTE: By linking up you are giving permission for any of the co-hosts to pin and/or feature a your photo on a future The Children’s Bookshelf post. Kindly link up to an individual post, not your blog’s homepage. The hosts reserve the right to delete any links to homepages, commercial links, repeat links or otherwise inappropriate links. Thank you for your understanding.
You can also follow The Children’s Bookshelf on Pinterest or visit TCB’s co-hosts: Sprout’s Bookshelf, What Do We Do All Day?, No Twiddle Twaddle, Smiling Like Sunshine, My Little Bookcase, The Picture Book Review, MemeTales and Mouse Grows, Mouse Learns. You can find more details here.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Picture Book Review - Unspoken by Henry Cole
Next week I'll be attending the ALA Midwinter convention, and I'm pretty much thrilled. Not only is it my first trade show as an almost-librarian, it's also the one where the ALA Youth Media Awards are announced. You probably know these awards more by their individual names: Caldecott, Newbery, Printz, Coretta Scott King, Sibert, etc. This is a big deal for us kidlit folks - think the Oscars for children's book geeks. Swoon!
The Awards will be announced on Monday, and the kidlitosphere is all abuzz in predictions. (Pragmatic Mom has a nice rundown of the frontrunners compiled from some heavy hitters in kidlit.) Usually I don't dip my toe into those waters, preferring to watch from the sidelines and root for my own favorites to take the top prize, or at least an Honor. But this year I'm putting it out there in the form of my own pick for the Caldecott, the prize for illustration: Unspoken by Henry Cole.
Unspoken, according to the author's note, arose out of his history of living in Loudoun County, Virginia, an area steeped in connections to the Civil War. Cole reports growing up hearing stories from elderly relatives, themselves connected in some way to people who had lived during the war. And so, Cole recounts, "It's not so suprising that I wanted to create a picture book that was evocative of that era. . . . I wanted to tell -- or show -- the courage of everyday people who were brave in quiet ways."
And that's exactly what Cole has done. In this evocative book, we are transported to a homestead during the Civil War, when a young girl living on the farm discovers a runaway slave hiding in the family's barn. She knows what she's expected to do, to raise the alarm, and yet the look in the stranger's eyes convinces her otherwise. She begins to sneak out food, day by day, bit by bit. Then one day slavers come looking, asking questions. The girl watches, hidden, and fearful for her friend's life. Later, she sneaks to the barn, underneath the night sky with the North Star shining bright overhead. And there she finds her friend has gone, but left behind a gift: a smiling doll, fashioned from the cornstalks behind which the slave found refuge.
Unspoken is a bit of an unusual choice for an award winner: it features a black-and-white palette AND it's wordless. The two characteristics themselves aren't that uncommon - Chris Van Allsburg won the prize for his black-and-white Jumanji, for instance, and Jerry Pinkney for the wordless The Lion and the Mouse. But the two together? That's a bit of a stretch for some. And then let's not forget that this is a historical title to boot.
But quite honestly I don't think any of these factors, taken singly or together, should stand in the way of Cole receiving the top honor this year. Because this, my friends, is a simply extraordinary picture book. There's so much we don't know -- who the slave is, why he or she found this place, where he/she is headed next -- but none of that alters one bit of the power of this story. Cole's use of pencil brings the stark contrast of light and dark to the forefront, where it belongs in a book about slavery and the Underground Railroad. The expressiveness of the features on the characters, in particular our heroine, communicates so much beyond the thread of narrative - it tells of the emotions that surround the difficult choice one girl must make, the connection she feels to someone she knows not at all, and the fear she experiences when it seems her bravery may be uncovered. Cole goes far beyond technical skill here, to tell a story of courage in the face of danger, of hope in the midst of unspeakable fear.
Unspoken, for me, elevates the picture book format to art form in a way that I think might cause even non-picture book fans to stop and take note. And, whether or not the committee agrees, that's the mark of a winner in my eyes.
Unspoken by Henry Cole, published by Scholastic Press
Ages 4 and up
Source: Library
Highly recommended
Bonus: a review of Unspoken from Kirkus Reviewer Julie Danielson
The Awards will be announced on Monday, and the kidlitosphere is all abuzz in predictions. (Pragmatic Mom has a nice rundown of the frontrunners compiled from some heavy hitters in kidlit.) Usually I don't dip my toe into those waters, preferring to watch from the sidelines and root for my own favorites to take the top prize, or at least an Honor. But this year I'm putting it out there in the form of my own pick for the Caldecott, the prize for illustration: Unspoken by Henry Cole.
Unspoken, according to the author's note, arose out of his history of living in Loudoun County, Virginia, an area steeped in connections to the Civil War. Cole reports growing up hearing stories from elderly relatives, themselves connected in some way to people who had lived during the war. And so, Cole recounts, "It's not so suprising that I wanted to create a picture book that was evocative of that era. . . . I wanted to tell -- or show -- the courage of everyday people who were brave in quiet ways."
And that's exactly what Cole has done. In this evocative book, we are transported to a homestead during the Civil War, when a young girl living on the farm discovers a runaway slave hiding in the family's barn. She knows what she's expected to do, to raise the alarm, and yet the look in the stranger's eyes convinces her otherwise. She begins to sneak out food, day by day, bit by bit. Then one day slavers come looking, asking questions. The girl watches, hidden, and fearful for her friend's life. Later, she sneaks to the barn, underneath the night sky with the North Star shining bright overhead. And there she finds her friend has gone, but left behind a gift: a smiling doll, fashioned from the cornstalks behind which the slave found refuge.
Unspoken is a bit of an unusual choice for an award winner: it features a black-and-white palette AND it's wordless. The two characteristics themselves aren't that uncommon - Chris Van Allsburg won the prize for his black-and-white Jumanji, for instance, and Jerry Pinkney for the wordless The Lion and the Mouse. But the two together? That's a bit of a stretch for some. And then let's not forget that this is a historical title to boot.
But quite honestly I don't think any of these factors, taken singly or together, should stand in the way of Cole receiving the top honor this year. Because this, my friends, is a simply extraordinary picture book. There's so much we don't know -- who the slave is, why he or she found this place, where he/she is headed next -- but none of that alters one bit of the power of this story. Cole's use of pencil brings the stark contrast of light and dark to the forefront, where it belongs in a book about slavery and the Underground Railroad. The expressiveness of the features on the characters, in particular our heroine, communicates so much beyond the thread of narrative - it tells of the emotions that surround the difficult choice one girl must make, the connection she feels to someone she knows not at all, and the fear she experiences when it seems her bravery may be uncovered. Cole goes far beyond technical skill here, to tell a story of courage in the face of danger, of hope in the midst of unspeakable fear.
Unspoken, for me, elevates the picture book format to art form in a way that I think might cause even non-picture book fans to stop and take note. And, whether or not the committee agrees, that's the mark of a winner in my eyes.
Unspoken by Henry Cole, published by Scholastic Press
Ages 4 and up
Source: Library
Highly recommended
Bonus: a review of Unspoken from Kirkus Reviewer Julie Danielson
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