Betsy Bird's Blog, page 319

It Shouldn’t Work, But It Does: The 21st Century Personalized Book

Let’s set the scene for a moment.  It’s the early 1980s.  3-2-1 Contact is giving young children an unceasing stream of Bloodhound Gang episodes.  Men have not yet shaved the mustaches they acquired in the 1970s.  Bicycles remain almost universally helmet-free.  And in Kalamazoo, Michigan a little girl is given a very special present.

Okay.  That’s a lie.  Not the mustaches or Bloodhound Gang parts, but the “special present” idea.  It wasn’t special.  Not by half.  What it was was the world’s cheapest gift/method of product placement.  Recall if you will the days when Sesame Street was a fantastic television program but a simply terrible publisher of books.  With the admittedly notable exception of The Monster At the End of This Book, if a book was published by Sesame Street it was met with near universal hisses and boos.  They were cheap.  They were pandering.  They were, to put it plain, gawdawful.  And the lowest of the low was their personalized books.

They looked like this:

Imagine if you will a book with pages as thin as cheap toilet paper that are glued together.  Into these pages a typewritten sheet was slotted.  That sheet fit in between the pages so that the name on it, a single name, would appear on the die-cut pages inside.  Then you would read the story and discover that the child who received this gift was the star of the book.  The plot of my book, if I can remember it, had something to do with a race.  All the Sesame Street characters were there and the winner at the end of the day was . . . me!  Yes, the book said it, so it had to be true.  Never mind that I was not drawn into the story at all, making my presence implied rather than overt.  The name “Betsy” was printed on the page, clear as crystal.  It was a cheap and tawdry affair.

Naturally I adored it.

Fast-forward to the 21st Century.  Sesame Street continues to make gawdawful personalized books (Google it if you don’t believe me) and though I loved my crusty little SS title as a kid, as a well-trained children’s librarian working in New York City I was clearly above such trappings.  Let the dirty masses have their personalized books, quoth I.  My child will live in a spotless universe where nary a stray Pinkalicious or Barbie tome will mar her precious mind (check back in with me in four years to see how THAT little plan goes).

Not long after the birth of the aforementioned kiddo I received an offer.  A publisher called MarbleSpark wanted to send my kid a personalized book.  Oog.  I knew where that was going.  Images of typewritten pages and gaudy art came to mind.  But I think I was in a post-childbirth haze of happy mellow feelings towards my fellow man so I agreed and told the name of the child to the company.  Only later did I question the wisdom of this act.  Still, it was too late.  The die was cast.  The book was in the mail.

I got it not long thereafter and the first thing I noticed was the illustrator.  It was Brad Sneed.  Sneed!  I knew that guy.  Not personally, admittedly, but this was the fellow behind books like that Dial Books version of Thumbelina or the Simon & Schuster Big Bad Wolves at School.  In other words, a real artist!  What the heck was he doing making personalized books?  So I picked the puppy up and flipped through it.  Oh man.

See, my in-box is just a continual torrent of folks asking me to talk up their products on this site.  And I’m pretty darn good at saying no to each and every one of them.  But there’s always that rare exception that gives them hope.  Meet today’s rare exception because you see, Finding Featherbottom (the name of the personalized book my daughter received) isn’t just tolerable.  It’s actually pretty dang great.

The basic plot premise is that a stork goes around the globe finding the letters in your kid’s name.  First and last.  My kid has a lot of repeated letters so I just assumed that they’d use the same art for the repeats (one letter appears three times).  But the crazy thing is that they’re prepared for that eventuality.  So when Featherbottom goes to look for the “L” he goes to three different L-related locations.  The book rhymes well, the art is really good, and there’s an odd thrill in seeing the name slowly appear at the bottom of each page.  Oh, and it isn’t racist.  You laugh but it’s amazing how often cannibals make their way into children’s books even today.  Seriously.

We figured out we liked the book when we didn’t give it to the child.  She’s tiny, for crying out loud!  She wouldn’t appreciate it yet.  Appreciate a personalized book!  Even saying it sounds silly to me, but there you are.  MarbleSpark is smart with how they display their buzz, and honestly the stuff doesn’t look cheap.  I mean, they don’t have colored endpapers or anything cool like that, but otherwise the quality is above average.

So there you have it.  I like it.  And that’s the long and short of that.

Review of the Day: It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly Bones! by Warren Hanson

It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly Bones!

By Warren Hanson

Illustrated by Tricia Tusa

Beach Lane Books (an imprint of Simon & Schuster)

$16.99

ISBN: 978-1-4424-1229-3

Ages 4-7

On shelves March 19th

Older children are not big fans of reading about middle-aged adults. That’s just obvious. Unless that adult is a furry woodland creature, of course. Then all bets are off. Smaller fry, as it happens, are far less finicky about their heroes. They’ll gladly read about grown-ups doing all sorts of things just so long as it’s interesting. And what’s the most interesting thing a grown-up can do? Act like a child, of course! Not just any child, mind. No they have to put on the mantle of a madcap, kooky, unpredictable, possibly insane child! The crazier the better. And there are few who would contest that when it comes to good-hearted, high-spirited lunacy, the top of the pops is Mrs. Jolly Bones. Perfectly living up to her name, this collaboration between Warren Hanson and Tricia Tusa may inadvertently teach kids the days of the week, but it’s also just as likely to teach them stranger lessons, like the fact that cake sliced by a power saw is much tastier than the alternative.

It’s Monday and Mrs. Jolly Bones knows what that means. Laundry day! With her animal friends aiding her she collects all the dirty clothes then cleans and dries and even irons them, one by one. After folding them “nice and neat” she then flings, “them out the window . . . to brighten up the street!” The next shot shows a bemused if baffled populace walking, biking, and living in the midst of a veritable clothes hurricane. Each day of the week follows suit with Mrs. Jolly Bones doing something normal at first, ending her actions with an act of madness. Each unique little twist varies, with some more ridiculous than others. By the end of the week Mrs. Jolly Bones spend the day in bed with occasional yodels at the moon, just in time to do it all again next week!

Hanson is a storyteller at heart and nowhere is this more evident than when you read the words of this book out loud. The story demands it, to a certain extent. I’m sure that there are those amongst you capable of restraining yourself from repeating lines like the aforementioned, “Then fling them out the window . . . so they brighten up the street” with an extra crazed sort of YEE-HAW sound, but I pray you’re few and far between. The whole joy of Hanson’s lines is that you can play the part of the prude for the first part of every day, duly instructing Mrs. Jolly Bones on how to proceed, and then at the end of each section you let rip with what’s she’s really up too. It’s remarkably cathartic! A readaloud storytime dream of a book. You keep kid readers guessing, completely upsetting their expectations over and over again. It doesn’t go quite as far as, say, a Guess Again by Mac Barnett, but it’s definitely along the same lines. Granted some days of the week are stronger than others when it comes to their twists. Thursday ends with merely making the kitchen smelly, which really can’t compare to bathing in a toilet or whipping out a power took to eat a dessert (quite possibly my favorite part of the book).

It’s also really interesting to look at how Hanson chooses to tell his story. He isn’t giving us a play by play of what has already happened or even what will happen. The narrator is talking directly to the heroine, Mrs. Jolly Bones, and telling her to do these wild and crazy things. And due to the amount of pleasure she clearly derives from the actions, this might even be interpreted as Mrs. Jolly Bones talking to herself on a given day. Because the words are a bit sophisticated the book doesn’t give kids the same visceral thrill they receive when they tell the pigeon in Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus not to go driving. In fact, it’s almost the opposite, with the reader telling/allowing Mrs. Jolly Bones the freedom to do whatever the heck she wants. And what she wants to do, evidently, is defy expectations. Kids can relate.

There are author/illustrator pairings out there that lift a book up from the hoards of mediocre fare churned out daily to the stratosphere of future classics. Hanson may be able to tap into a kind of madcap insanity appealing to small fry, but it is Tusa who gives the book its extra added jolt of the crazy. Hanson may be telling Mrs. Jolly Bones to take a bath in the toilet, but Tusa was the one who gives the woman a snorkel and flippers for her feet. She also came up with the method of making sure you don’t feel sorry for Mrs. Jolly Bones. How easily this story could be interpreted as a crazy old woman’s senile actions. I mean it’s not like we’re seeing a MISTER Jolly Bones anywhere about. But Tusa takes the situation well in hand. Though the text only ever mentions a single chicken on a lap, the illustrator has given Mrs. Jolly Bones a veritable tribe of barnyard companions. Our middle-aged heroine lives with roughly ten animals or so. They help her get her coat on, aid in baking (and eating), and she’s clearly quite fond of them. Not since Amos McGee have we seen someone have this close and affectionate a relationship with your everyday zoo and farm denizens.

For me, it’s the little things that make the book really worth your while. The more you page through it too, the smarter it becomes. That scene of Mrs. Jolly Bones bathing in the commode is funny, but Tusa makes it all the funnier for the sharp-eyed spotter who realizes that there’s a long line of animals wearing bathrobes, carrying towels and soap, patiently waiting their turn. The bathtub on the left page sits forgotten. Thank goodness they don’t have a bidet! You see, a lot of the time I felt like Hanson would set up the pins and Tusa would knock them down. He may have come up with the notion of old ladies wrestling one another after their tea, but it’s Tusa who makes it clear they’re having the time of their lives. The animals, suffice to say, peek at the mayhem (which is too nuts even for them) from around various bits of furniture in the room. Another illustrator could have made the scene too violent or not fanatic enough. Tusa strikes just the right balance.

A great readaloud that works just as well as a one-on-one book thanks to copious details, It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly Bones is one of the rare books that makes you aware and grateful for author/illustrator collaborations. Authors and illustrators in the world of picture books are paired together by their editors. Sometimes the result is magic and sometimes a dud. We are experiencing the former possibility with this book. Fun and frolicsome with just the mildest hint of danger, this is one unassuming little book that I hope gathers a lot of traction in the future. It brings out the best in its creators and in its readers as well. An undeniable delight.

On shelves March 19th.

Source: Final copy sent from publisher for review.

Like This? Then Try:

Mrs. Biddlebox by Linda Smith, illustrated by Marla Frazee


Guess Again! by Mac Barnett, illustrated by Adam Rex


A Sick Day for Amos McGee by Philip Stead, illustrated by Erin E. Stead

Professional Reviews:

Publishers Weekly
Kirkus,

Misc: Have some fun and read some excerpts from the book here.

Fusenews: Aw, pfui

It is WAY too late in the day for me to be only starting a Fusenews post now.  All right, guys. Looks like we’re gonna have to do today double quick time.  Sorry, but I’ve a ticking time bomb in the other room (sometimes also known as “my daughter”) and I gotsta gets to bed before midnight.  Here we go!

How does one receive the news that they won a Caldecott?  Peter Brown gives us the rundown.


February means only one thing.  The Brown Bookshelf has resumed their 28 Days Later campaign.  So stop complaining about the fact that black writers and illustrators aren’t better acknowledged and actually read all about them!  This is your required reading of the month.  And no, I’m not joking.


Some sad Obit news.  Diane Wolkstein, storyteller and picture book/folktale author passed away after heart surgery in Taiwan.


Happier news.  My mom, the published poet, gets interviewed by Foreword Magazine.  Note the copious Little Women references.


The happiest news of all.  This will, if you are anything like me, make your day.  Delightful doesn’t even begin to describe it.  Thanks to Robin Springberg Parry for the link.


Were you aware that there was an offensive Flat Stanley book out there?  Nor I.  And yet . . .


Hat tip to the ShelfTalker folks for actually putting together the top starred books of 2012.  Mind you, only YA titles can get seven stars because (I think) they include VOYA.  Ah well.


Breaking News: People use libraries.  In a related story, sun is hot and water is wet.  Sheesh.



My new favorite thing?  Jon Klassen fan art.  Like this one from Nancy Vo.  Cute.


Meet Eerdmans, my new best friend.  Look what they put on their books for the last ALA Midwinter.

Thanks to Travis Jonker for the heads up!

Hey!  Public school librarians and public library librarians!  Want money?  The Ezra Jack Keats Foundation is giving away grants.  Free money!  Take it, people, take it!


The Battle of the (Kids’) Book Contenders are announced and nigh.  I’m a little bit late with that info.  Ah well.


One of my children’s librarians has been getting twenty different kinds of attention because she circulated an American Girl doll.  Now try and picture how many donations she now has to deal with.  Yup.


An interesting use of the term “whittle”.  As in, “I think I’m going to whittle off all the toes on my feet”.  Except more drastic, less cosmetic.


A very personal response from Zetta Elliott after this last awards round.  She’s out.


Travis Jonker and the very fun idea to create a Children’s Literature casting call.  I’d counter that Josh Radnor is more Jarrett Krosoczka (though I may be just a bit confused since Jarrett was actually in the background of an episode of How I Met Your Mother in the past), Lisa Loeb is more Erin E. Stead, Neal Patrick Harris as either Mac Barnett or Adam Gidwitz, Stanley Tucci as Arthur A. Levine, and maybe Jeffrey Wright as Kadir Nelson, except that Kadir is better looking.  Hm.  This will bear additional thought.


Daily Image:

Fair play to The College of Creative Design. I do like this new ad campaign of theirs.

Thanks to The Infomancer for the link.

Press Release Fun – Middle Grade: Surviving the YA Onslaught

The Children’s Literary Salon is pleased to announce our next event on Saturday, February 2nd at 2:00 p.m.

Middle Grade: Surviving the YA Onslaught

Join authors Jeanne Birdsall ( The Penderwicks), N.D. Wilson ( The Dragon’s Tooth), Adam Gidwitz ( In a Glass Grimmly) and Rebecca Stead ( Liar & Spy) for a discussion of middle grade fiction and popular culture’s attempts to rebrand it YA.

This event will be held in the main branch of NYPL (The Stephen A. Schwarzman Building) located at 42nd Street and 5th Avenue in the South Court Auditorium.  No reservations necessary.  For questions about the event please contact Elizabeth Bird at elizabethbird@nypl.org.

See you there!

Review of the Day: Stardines Swim High Across the Sky and Other Poems by Jack Prelutsky

Stardines Swim High Across the Sky and Other Poems

By Jack Prelutsky

Illustrated by Carin Berger

Greenwillow Books (an imprint of Harper Collins)

$16.99

ISBN: 978-0-06-201464-1

Ages 4-8

On shelves February 26th.

To non-children’s librarians the statistics are baffling. Your average poetry book isn’t exactly a circ buster. It sits on the shelf for months at a time, gathering dust, biding its time. When kids come to the reference desk to ask for titles, they don’t tend to ask for poetry unless they’ve some sort of assignment they need to fulfill. Yet for all that poetry books for kids are shelf sitters, it’s hard to find a single one that hasn’t gone out in the last two or three months. How to account for it? Well, there’s Poetry Month (April) to begin with. That always leads to a run on the 811 portion of the library shelves. But beyond that kids read poetry in dribs and drabs over the course of the year. Maybe as Summer Reading books. Maybe as class assignments. Whatever the reason, poetry has a longevity, if not a popularity, that’s enviable. Now Jack Prelutsky, our first Children’s Poet Laureate and creator of Behold the Bold Umbrellaphant is following up his work with yet another delve into (in the words of Kirkus) “iambic ‘pun’tameter”. And while Prelutsky gives us a second round, illustrator Carin Berger steps up her game to give these hybrid birds and beasts a kick in the old artistic derriere.

Forget everything you ever knew about animals. Not since On Beyond Zebra has the world seen a menagerie quite as wild as the one on display here. Step right up, folks, and take a gander at the rare and remarkable Fountain Lion. “The only lions no one dreads, / They all have fountains on their heads.” Delicious crustaceans more your speed? Then come and observe the rare Slobsters. “Their sense of decorum / Is woefully small. / Slobsters don’t have / Many manners at all.” Or for the kiddies, how about an adorable Planda? “They plan to learn to roller-skate, / To juggle, and to fence. / They plan to go to clown school / And cavort in circus tents.” With his customary clever verse, Jack Prelutsky invents sixteen imaginary animals of varying degrees of odd. Accompanying his rhymes is his old partner-in-crime Carin Berger, who has moved beyond mere collage and has gone so far to construct elaborate shadow boxes of each and every poem. The end result is impressive, hilarious, and one of the most original little poetry collections you’ll see in many a year.

The shadow box, that staple of undergraduate art projects everywhere, is a relative newcomer to the world of children’s literature. A shadow box, once you’ve designed it and filled it with cool images, needs to be photographed perfectly if it’s going to work on a flat page. That means you need an illustrator confident in their abilities to produce art that will look as good in two dimensions as three. Berger is clearly up to the challenge. A master of collage, in this book she bends over backwards to make her images the best they can be. She’s very good at conveying distance. She also conveys perspective quite well. A cut image of a bicycle makes it appear to be three-dimensional because it is photographed from above. I know the image itself is just a flat piece of paper, but the illusion is complete. Everything, in fact, appears to have been planned with a meticulous eye.

Even within the boxes themselves Berger’s job is not easy. Consider an early poem called “Bluffaloes” which combines the word “Buffaloes” with the word “Bluff”. It’s about buffalo types who are scaredy cats should you call their bluff. Fair enough. Now how the heck do you illustrate that? In Berger’s case it looks like she may have considered an alternative definition of the word “bluff” as in “a cliff, headland, or hill with a broad, steep face” since her bluffaloes look like nothing so much as little pieces of a cliff running hither and thither on newly sprouted legs. Artistic creativity is much called for when wordplay is open ended.

Of course, as an adult I’m going to be naturally inclined towards artsy fartsy styles. But this all begs the obvious question: Will kids dig it? Well, let’s stop and consider for a moment. What precisely has Berger done? She has made little boxes and put action-packed scenes within them. Who else does that kind of thing? If you said, “Kids who make dioramas for school” you have earned yourself a cookie. Yes, it appears to me that Berger has taken one of the oldest homework assignments of our age and has turned it into a book. An enterprising teacher would find a goldmine of assignment material here. What if they had their kids write their own poems in Prelutsky’s style? What if they made pairs of kids come up with the idea for the poem and then one kid could write it while the other made a diorama to go with it? Can you now say, “instantaneous original poetry project for Poetry Month”? I knew you could.

Then there’s Prelutsky. He always scans. He always rhymes. And he throws in big words that will give some children a good dictionary workout. For example, in the Sobcat poem he writes, “The SOBCAT is sad / As a feline can be / And spends its time crying / Continuously. / It has no real reason / To be so morose. / It’s simply its nature / To act lachrymose.” Nice. Of course the unspoken secret to many of these poems isn’t that they simply make clever pairings of words and phrases with animals but that they say something about certain types of people. The Planda makes eternal plans and never carries them out. The Sobcat “delights / In its own misery”. You can find many a friend and a relation found in the animals of these pages.

The pairings of the poems is sometimes key. It works particularly well when you place the “Jollyfish” poem next to the “Sobcat”, for example. There are other moments when you suspect that the layout and order of the poems was a carefully thought out process. The book begins, for example, with the titular poem “Stardines” which comments that “In silence, these nocturnal fish / Are set to grant the slightest wish.” That’s a good note to begin on. The book then alternates between animals with physical attributes that are their primary lure and animals with one-of-a-kind personality quirks. It’s interesting to see how all this ends with, of all the animals, the Bardvark. “BARDVARKS think they’re poets / And persist in writing rhyme. / Their words are uninspired / And a total waste of time.” So it is that book of poetry for kids ends by highlighting an animal that’s an atrocious poet. The final lines, “Undeterred, they keep on writing / And reciting every day. / That’s why BARDVARKS are a problem – / You can’t make them go away.” One can’t help but think Prelutsky is taking a little jab at himself here. Not a significant jab, but small enough to allow him to laugh at himself a little. Not a bad way to finish, really.

Perhaps a key at the back of the book explaining which animals and concepts were combined would not have been out of place. I found myself baffled by the “swapitis” (pronounced swap-uh-teez) and found myself wishing I knew what animal it hailed from. It looks somewhat deer-like. After a bit of internet searching I discovered an animal called a wapitis, which is a kind of North American deer. Good to know, though I suspect it won’t immediately pop to many folks’ minds unless prompted and prodded a bit. Of course having kids find the animals referenced could be a fun homework assignment in and of itself. There are possibilities there. Just no answers.

Jack Prelutsky is a staple. Folks my age still associate him with The New Kid On the Block. Kids these days have a lot more Prelutskyian choices to pick from. Berger, in contrast, is new and fresh and bright and shiny. Combine the old school rhymes and chimes of a Prelutsky with the crackling energy and visual wit of Berger and you’ve got yourself a heckuva team. Stardines may tread familiar ground once trod before, but its method of presentation is anything but overdone. Hand this one to the kid who moans to you that they “have” to read a book of poetry for school. Who knows? It may hook ‘em before they realize what’s what. One of a kind.

On shelves February 26th.

Source: Galley sent from publisher for review.

Like This? Then Try:

Behold the Bold Umbrellaphant by Jack Prelutsky, illustrated by Carin Berger


But Who Will Bell the Cats? by Cynthia von Buhler


Wabi Sabi by Mark Reibstein, illustrated by Ed Young


Steady Hands: Poems About Work by Tracie Vaughn Zimmer

Other Blog Reviews: Book Aunt

Professional Reviews:

A star from PW
Kirkus

Misc:

Read this great little short interview with Ms. Berger at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast as she discusses how, “This seemed a perfect opportunity to reference my passion for wunderkammers and early science — and crusty old museums.”


And here’s one shadow box that didn’t make the cut.


It’s Poetry Friday!  Head on over to Teaching Authors to see the round-up of other great poetry books of the day!

Video:

Take a studio tour into the world of Carin Berger to see some of the fantastic art from this book.

Review of the Day – Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made by Stephan Pastis

Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made

By Stephan Pastis

Candlewick Press

$14.99

ISBN: 978-0-7636-6050-5

Ages 9-12

On shelves February 26th

Call it the attack of the syndicated cartoonists. For whatever reason, in the year 2013 we are seeing droves of escapees from the comic strip pages leaping from the burning remains of the newspaper industry into the slightly less volatile world of books for kids. How different could it be, right? As a result you’ve The Odd Squad by Michael Fry (Over the Hedge) and Zits Chillax by Jerry Scott (Zits). Even editorial cartoonists are getting in on the act with Pulitzer prize winner Matt Davies and his picture book Ben Rides On. In the old days it was usually animators, greeting card designers, and Magic the Gathering illustrators who joined the children’s book fray. But now with graphic novels getting better than ever and libraries willing to buy the bloody things, the world has been made safe for cartoonists too. Into this state of affairs comes Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made. It is, without a doubt, the best of the cartoonist fare (author Stephan Pastis is the man behind the strip Pearls Before Swine), completely and utterly understanding its genre, its pacing, and the importance of leveling humor with down-to-earth human problems. Funnier than it deserves to be, here’s the book to hand the kind who has been told to read something with an unreliable narrator. Trust me, you’ll be the kid’s best friend if you give them this.

Meet Detective Failure. No, not really. Instead, meet Timmy Failure, just a normal kid with dreams so big they make Walter Mitty’s fantasies look like idle fancies. Living with just his single mom and his sidekick Total (a 1,500 pound polar bear but that’s neither here nor there), Timmy spends his days solving crimes for the other kids in his class. He may not be very good at it but it’s a living. Timmy’s sure his talents will launch him into a future of fame an fortune. That is, if he can defeat his nemesis Corrina Corrina, get his mom to stop grounding him, deal with the loser she’s dating, and figure out how to keep Total out of a zoo. It’s a big job. Fortunately, Timmy has a more than hefty ego to handle it.

I am a grown woman with a child of my own. I am an adult. I pay bills and watch Masterpiece Theater. In other words, my grown-up cred is in place. That said, I can’t tell you how many debates I’ve already had with folks over whether or not Timmy’s darn polar bear is real or not. My husband claims that the bear is a manifestation of Timmy’s break with reality in the same way that Hobbes seemed to walk around in the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. I like to point out that Hobbes had an actual physical form as a stuffed tiger and where precisely is the stuffed polar bear in all this? Maybe I have a hard time acknowledging the fact that Total isn’t real because if that’s true then Timmy’s life is even sadder than I initially thought.

Because, you see, that’s the real joy of Timmy Failure; the misery. On the one hand we are meant to yell and scream at our oblivious hero and to mock him for his inability to face reality. On the other hand, when you see how sad his life is, you cannot help but feel for him. That poignancy almost makes it funny again. His mom, for example, is single and holding down a low-income job as best she can. It’s not her fault her kiddo is as detached from the world around him as he is. And Timmy, truth be told, pretends to be a detective mostly because he wants to give his mom a better life. His bravado is hiding some pretty desperate hopes and dreams. You get glimpses past that bravado from time to time, and those are the moments that lift the book up and out of the world of pseudo-Diary of a Wimpy Kid notebook novel knock-offs that clog library and bookseller shelves. For example, there’s one moment when Timmy’s mom cuddles him then blows into his ear because he finds it funny. He objects in his usual staunch way then . . . “Do it again”. The book also dares to take potshots at folks who might actually deserve it. Timmy’s teacher has checked out of teaching long since. He’s the kind of guy who hasn’t cared about what he’s doing in years. Should’ve retired a decade or more ago. When you see that, can you help but love the hell Timmy drags him through?

I wonder to myself how far kids will go to believe Timmy. The book sets you up pretty early to understand how unreliable he is but there may be times when gullible readers believe what he says. They might actually think that Flo the librarian (a guy who looks like he’d be more comfortable pounding rocks on a chain gang than running a library) really does read books about crushing things with your fists. All the more reason Timmy is confused when he catches the man reading Emily Dickinson. “And if she can crush things with her fist, her photo is somewhat misleading.”

In the course of any of this have I actually mentioned that the book is guffaw-worthy? Laugh-out-loud funny? Look, any book where the main character reasons that since the name “Chang” is the most common in the world he should automatically fill it in on all his test papers because the odds would be with him has my interest. Add in the fact that you’ve titles of chapters with names like, “You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile” (well played, Pastis) and visual moments where Timmy is holding a box of rice krispie treats above his head ala Say Anything. Clearly this is adult humor, but when he hits it on the kid level (which is all the time) the readers will be rolling.

The art is, of course, sublime. Look at Timmy himself if you don’t believe me. On the cover of the book he looks pretty okay but turn the pages and there’s definitely something a little bit off about him. Did you figure out what it was? Look at his eyes. With the greatest of care Pastis has places one pupil dead in the center of Timmy’s eye and the in the other eye the pupil is juuuuuuuuust barely off-center. It’s not the kind of thing you’d necessarily notice consciously. You’d just be left with the clear sense that there’s something off about this kid. Then there’s the fact that all the characters are often staring right at you. Right in the eye. It reminded me of Jon Klassen’s I Want My Hat Back. Same school play feel. Same wary characters.

It should be of little surprise that the guy behind the Pearls Before Swine comic strip should also produce some fan-tastic animals. My favorite is Senor Burrito, a cat who dunks her paw into Timmy’s tea whenever he turns his head. The image of her sitting there, one paw well past her elbow in a teacup, is so good I’d rip it out of the book and frame it if I could justify the act of defacement.

When Seinfeld first came out the unofficial slogan was “No hugging. No learning.” If there’s a motto to be ascribed to Timmy Failure I may have to be “No learning. No growing. Hugs allowed.” Basically this is Calvin and Hobbes if Calvin’s fantasies were based entirely on how great he is. A step above the usual notebook novel fare, it dares to have a little bit of heart embedded amidst the madcap craziness. Timmy won’t be everybody’s cup of tea, but for a certain segment of the population his adventures will prove to be precisely the kind of balm they need. Top notch stuff. A cut above the cartoons.

On shelves February 26th.

Source: Galley sent from publisher for review.

First Line: “It’s harder to drive a polar bear into somebody’s living room than you’d think.”

Like This? Then Try:

Milo: Sticky Notes and Brain Freeze by Alan Silberberg


The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger


Griff Carver: Hallway Patrol by Jim Krieg


I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to be Your Class President by Josh Lieb

Professional Reviews: Kirkus

Other Reviews: Shelf Awareness

Misc:

There are games n’ such galore in connection with the book.


I’ve been enjoying the blog for the book.  Particularly the posts by Flo the Librarian.  Such a sweet feller.  The next guybrarian who dresses up as Flo for Halloween has my undying love.


Some info on the marketing behind the book.


Read a sample chapter here.

Videos:

Here’s a sneaky peek.

Here’s the full-length trailer:

And here’s the author himself on the polar bear.  Actually, this clears quite a lot of stuff up.

 

ALA Youth Media Awards 2013: Post-Game Recap

I miss Peter Sieruta.

Many of us get excited when the Newbery and Caldecott Awards are announced alongside the other ALA Youth Media Awards at the beginning of the year.  But I say with certainty that there was no blogger out there half as excited as Peter Sieruta.  At Collecting Children’s Books he poured his heart and soul into the history of the awards, giving facts and background to the winners and where their place on the pantheon of winners really was.  This time last year he wrote the post We Neeeeeeeed Bookmarks! and ended with this passage:

Way back in the early 1980s, I used to shop at a mall bookstore called The Children’s Bookmark. That was where I got my first Cynthia Voigt book, HOMECOMING. M.E. Kerr’s LITTLE LITTLE. Robert Cormier’s EIGHT PLUS ONE. Katherine Paterson’s Newbery winner JACOB HAVE I LOVED. I have many fond memories of that little store. I also remember one incident I witnessed outside the store. A mother and father were heading for the mall exit, when a little girl, maybe six or seven years old, drawn by the word “children” on the sign, started begging to go in the store. In a hurry to leave, her parents dragged her away from the Children’s Bookmark, while she kicked and whined, “But I NEEEEEEED bookmarks!”

That girl is probably now pushing forty, perhaps with little kids of her own. But I still think of her plea for “bookmarks” after all these years. For me, each Newbery Day is slightly different — a happy day, a sad day; a day when I like the winning books, a day when I don’t; a snowy day, a warm day; a day when I eat at Ponderosa or end up with Chinese take-out; a day when I look back at last year’s books and look forward to next year’s books.

I celebrate every “Newbery Day” and I remember each one of them, going back years and years.

They are bookmarks marking the pages of my life.

They were.  I can’t stand that I can’t email him today and ask him questions like “Has a Caldecott Award winner ever won an Honor in the same year?”  I happen to think that this year would have been a particularly fine one for him.  He would have loved the winners.  I know I sure did.  Here are some thoughts on the matter.

It’s All About Me

I did far better in the prediction department this year than usual.  Granted, I never seem to be able to predict the outright winner of either the Caldecott or the Newbery, but that’s par for the course.  The books that did win were near and dear to my heart.  Katherine Applegate’s The One and Only Ivan took home the gold.  I think my exact words about it were, “I would actually be right pleased if it walked away with the gold. Is it distinguished?  Absolutely!  And smart and funny and a talking animal book that will even please folks who can’t stand talking animal books. Ivan, you have my vote of confidence.”  As I write this I see that there’s even a One and Only Ivan ad on the right side of my screen.  Good planning, Harper Collins.  That’s foresight for you.

Says the ALA Press Release, “Three Newbery Honor Books also were named: “Splendors and Glooms” by Laura Amy Schlitz and published by Candlewick Press; “Bomb: The Race to Build—and Steal—the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon” by Steve Sheinkin and published by Flash Point, an imprint of Roaring Brook Press; and “Three Times Lucky” by Sheila Turnage and published by Dial Books for Young Readers, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group.”  No real surprises here, aside from the fact that Grace Lin didn’t get anything (much to my own chagrin).  But each of these books was a true winner.  I was inspired by the appearance of Three Times Lucky, a deserving book if ever there was one.  I did not review Bomb, it’s true, but I don’t know that I can say anything that others haven’t.

On the Caldecott side of the equation This is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen beat out Extra Yarn by Mac Barnett and ALSO illustrated by Jon Klassen.  It was a Klassen vs. Klassen year (and not the last we’ll see, I’d wager).  Klassen gives a helluva good speech, so his Caldecott acceptance will be something to look forward too.  Honestly, I personally would have preferred Extra Yarn to win over the fishy hat sequel, but beggers can’t be choosers.  No sir.

The real Caldecott delight for me was seeing Peter Brown’s Creepy Carrots get some love.  There are certain illustrators that I fear will never get the award chutzpah they deserve.  Your Blackalls, your Santats, your Rexes, etc.  Peter Brown was in that category as well (so was Klassen for that matter) so to see him break out like this was inspiring.  Green was my top pick but at least it got an Honor.  One Cool Friend did very well in the Mock Caldecotts around the country (though I confess I liked the art far more than the text).  Sleep Like a Tiger . . . . meh.  Zagarenski won a Caldecott Honor before.  Both this as This Is Not My Hat strike me as books that win when their predecessors were stronger, but of course a committee isn’t supposed to take that into consideration.  So there you have it.  Which brings us to . . .

Whitey Whitey Whiteville

Surely I’m not the only person to notice that not a SINGLE person of color won a Caldecott or a Newbery anything this year.  I’m not hung up on the whole girls-win-Newberys-and-boys-win-Caldecotts debate since I don’t think it’s a serious issue, but I AM a bit concerned that we’re forgetting about some stellar diverse books.  Grace Lin was just the tip of the iceberg.  Kadir Nelson has been referred to as the Susan Lucci of the children’s book world, never winning the gold.  I suspect that’s because he hasn’t been paired with the right text yet, but it’s not as if there wasn’t some great stuff out there this year.  Crow, The Lions of Little Rock, and Chickadee all featured main characters of color (something that none of these winners do either).  They didn’t win.  Nor did Mom, It’s My First Day of Kindergarten, Jazz Age Josephine, or any of the other stellar titles on the illustration side.  People wonder why we have awards like the Coretta Scott King and Pura Belpre.  I say it’s because if we didn’t this type of thing would happen every year.

Speaking of which, I was fascinated by the Andrea Davis Pinkney win of Hand in Hand: Ten Black Men Who Changed America.  This book should be required reading by children young and old around our nation.  The Benjamin Banneker chapter alone is worth it.  I was talking to someone about the book and we speculated on what a version starring women would consist of and who you would pick.  All well and good until you realize that it would probably have to end with Condoleezza Rice.  Hopefully Ms. Pinkney would see a different way of tackling that.

Said the press release: “Two King Author Honor Books were selected: “Each Kindness” by Jacqueline Woodson, illustrated by E. B. Lewis and published by Nancy Paulsen Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group; and “No Crystal Stair: A Documentary Novel of the Life and Work of Lewis Michaux, Harlem Bookseller” by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson, illustrated by R. Gregory Christie and published by Carolrhoda Lab, an imprint of Carolrhoda Books, a division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.”  It is very interesting to me to see an award where a picture book and a young adult novel can win in the same category.  Great choices, though.  I know that Monica Edinger had been hoping Woodson might relive her picture-book-winning-a-Newbery moment with her latest text.

And yes, Bryan Collier won for I, Too, Am America, which is a great book no question.  What truly thrilled me was seeing Christopher Myers’ “H.O.R.S.E.” win an Honor.  Except it just made me kick myself again that I didn’t review when I had the chance.  Gah! Other winners were: ” “Ellen’s Broom,” illustrated by Daniel Minter, written by Kelly Starling Lyons and published by G. P. Putnam’s Sons, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group; and “I Have a Dream: Martin Luther King, Jr.” illustrated by Kadir Nelson, written by Martin Luther King, Jr. and published by Schwartz & Wade Books, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc.”

On the Pura Belpre side, it looks as though Gary Schmidt may have lost out awardwise with Okay for Now, but his Martin de Porress: The Rose in the Desert got some Award lovin’ thanks to David Diaz.  However, the fact that no Illustrator Honor Books were chosen really chaps my hide.  My sole comfort is that already in 2013 I’ve seen some stellar work by a LOT of good Latino folks.  Here’s hoping future years have a rosier outlook.  On the authorial side, Maria from Sesame Street (a.k.a the lady who sings “Turn Back Oh Man” on the cast album of “Godspell” a.k.a. Sonia Manzano) won an Honor for her pretty darn good The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano.  It’s fine fare.  Very middle school.  If you haven’t read it, do.

Dribs and Drabs

Eerdmans is the little publisher who can once more.  They first shot to prominence when their A River of Words garnered a nice and lovely Caldecott Honor.  No Caldecotts were on the menu today, but that didn’t stop them from getting a Schneider Family Book Aard for Claire Alexander’s Back to Front and Upside Down! not to mention a Batchelder Honor for Son of a Gun by Anne de Graaf.

The award I snarkily refer to as The Weston Woods Award went to a bit of nonfiction this year.  The Andrew Carnegie Medal was handed over to Katja Torneman, producer of “Anna, Emma and the Condors,”.  That made me wonder if the slow creeping influence of the Core Curriculum can change things with these awards.  Aside from Bomb getting a Newbery Honor and this, few nonfiction titles jumped out of their boxes.  Maybe next year.

Speaking of nonfiction, no real surprises when it came to the nonfiction winners.  Again, white as all get out, but good writing just the same.

A VERY nice surprise to see Tamora Pierce win the Margaret A. Edwards Award for lifetime achievement in writing for young adults.  Extra points for her write-up ending with the line, “She currently lives with her husband (spouse-creature) and a myriad of animals in Syracuse, New York.”

And a special shout out to Raina Telgemeier for winning a Stonewall Honor for her remarkable little Drama.

Now as crazy as it sounds my favorite winners this year might have been the Theodor Seuss Geisel Award winners for the most distinguished beginning reader books.  First and foremost, my beloved Up! Tall! And High! written and illustrated by Ethan Long was the proper winner.  But look at these Honors!

Three Geisel Honor Books were named: Let’s Go for a Drive! written and illustrated by Mo Willems, and published by Hyperion Books for Children, an imprint of Disney Book Group; Pete the Cat and His Four Groovy Buttons by Eric Litwin, created and illustrated by James Dean and published by HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers; and Rabbit & Robot: The Sleepover, written and illustrated by Cece Bell and published by Candlewick Press.

Wow.  I like every last one of those. Even that darn cat.  Color me impressed.

Final Thoughts

Those of you watching the awards live probably could not help but notice my former co-worker Jack Martin, the president of YALSA, take the stage and liven the joint up a bit.  That’s Jack for you.  When they did an article in the Times on the best dressed librarians in the system, he was front and center.  In this case his coffee must have been working particularly well since he was throwing out terms like “love-bombs” and “ballyhoo” like nobody’s business.  If he isn’t tapped to run the bloody awards from here on in then there is no justice in the universe.

Of course, the big name titles this year were the ones that suffered the most.  Wonder, as predicted, got shut out.  Not so surprising on the Newbery side.  VERY surprising on the Schneider Family Book Award side.  It apparently got beaten out by A Dog Named Homeless by Sara Lean.  Did NOT see that one coming.  As for John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars, it didn’t win any writing awards but it did garner an Odyssey Award for best audiobook produced for children and/or young adults, available in English in the United States.  Special shout out too to Beth Fama and her Monstrous Beauty getting an Odyssey Honor, by the way!

So what have we learned?  Well, we need a bit more diversity in our winners, that’s for certain.  But it was a good year.  Strong winners and contenders.  I think I can finally close the book on 2012 for good.  Whew!

Now check out these gorgeous little 2013 titles right over here.  I daresay you’ve never seen the like.  Can I interest you in some Newbery/Caldecott 2014 predictions, eh?

 

Video Sunday: What no one tells beginners

I wonder how much of my readership is at the Midwinter ALA Convention right now.  Probably a big old chunk.  That’s okay.  Those of us stuck at home can make our OWN fun, even as we obsessively chew our nails in anticipation of tomorrow’s big ALA Media Awards announcements.  This video should be enough to start us off. It’s such a silly premise (I love the idea of a walking talking Margaret Wise Brown) that you can’t help but love it.

Thanks to Educating Alice and Jules for the link.

Next up, some writing advice, maybe specifically picture book writing advice (though a lot of it applies to writers in general) from Mr. Ira Glass.

I once attended an 826NYC event where you could play blackjack with Ira Glass.  Needless to say, the man intimidated the hell out of me, and I never went within 12 feet of him.  Ended up playing Jon Scieszka at Connect 4 all night instead.  Good times.

Did you not attend John & Hank Green’s moment of triumph at Carnegie Hall?  No?  Were you, like myself, harboring the world’s worst cough at home instead (a theme for the day)?  Then fear not!  The full presentation in all its rad glory is here for the viewing, start to finish.  An evening of awesome indeed.

Folks.  You’ve gotta stop letting me know about cool stuff all at the same time.  I have a hard time holding on to cool links for future weeks.  I wanna just get it all down NOW NOW NOW.  Case in point, this Oliver Jeffers video.  Geez.  Ironic forms of transportation and everything.

Thanks to Don for the link.

This next bit came to me in a press release but since it has a lot to do with video in general I’m slapping it in here.  Check it out:

The National Coalition Against Censorship is inviting everyone to participate in its annual Youth Free Expression Project film contest in a new way: by casting their vote for this year’s People’s Choice Award. Pick out the video that you feel best exposes the dangers of book censorship and show your love by liking it on YouTube.

This year’s theme of “You’re Reading WHAT?!?!” asked contestants to create a short video about a time when an adult tried to censor something they were reading, or a book-banning incident in the news that involved young people. We encouraged entrants to show off their video-making skills and to use their creativity, so take into consideration content, artistic and technical merit, as well as a willingness to think outside the box.

Come one, come all: students, teachers, librarians, authors, anyone with a love for free speech and good books—check out our 12 amazing semifinalist videos and vote for your favorite.

Voting is easy. View the videos here, then sign into your Gmail, Google or YouTube account and click “like” on your favorite video’s player window. The movies can also be viewed and liked on our 2012 YFEP Film Contest Playlist on YouTube. The video with the most “likes” will be declared the People’s Choice winner. The deadline for casting votes is February 15 at 5 p.m. EST.

And since this week has been just SUCH a great video week for me, even my off-topic video is a bit on-topic.  A year or two ago I posted a video of Jimmy Fallon singing the theme song to Reading Rainbow in the style of Jim Morrison.  Well, that version was pulled from the internet relatively swiftly, so if you didn’t see it there it’s gone, man, gone.  Fortunately, there’s such a thing as second chances as here we can see a stripped down version of the same song with a little backstory to boot.  It feels good to send you off with this.

Review of the Day: Flora and the Flamingo by Molly Idle

Flora and the Flamingo

By Molly Idle

Chronicle Books

$16.99

ISBN: 978-1-4521-1006-6

Ages 3-7

On shelves February 3rd

Did you know that flamingos are pink because of their diet of plankton? Did you know that the flamingo is the national bird of the Bahamas? And did you know that when it comes to a pas de chat or a particularly fine jetée, no bird exceeds the flamingo in terms of balletic prowess? No? Then you’re clearly not reading the right literature these days. Now, before you get to thinking too hard about it, let me assure you that when I discuss a book like Flora and the Flamingo I should right off the bat say that this is NOT a book about a bird that wants to be a ballerina and must overcomes obstacles to achieve that goal. That is, without a doubt, the most common storyline in ballet picture books today. I would not review such a book as that. No, Flora and the Flamingo is notable because it is a perfect amalgamation of wordless storytelling, likable (or at least understandable) characters, and an artistic sensibility that will make you forget its unique formatting and remind you only of the classic picture book days of yore. So forget what flamingos eat. Are you getting enough flamingo picture books in YOUR diet? If not, time to start.

A single flamingo lands and perches on one leg beneath the falling pink blossoms. It does not notice the single flippered foot that appears behind it nor, at first, the bathing suited little girl that mimics his stance. But when he starts to stretch (or is he dancing?) he can’t help but see how she tries to imitate him, wing for wing. In a moment of cussidness he bleats at her, causing her to tumble head over heel into the water. Chastened, the flamingo offers a wing and the two embark on a fantastic dance, culminating in a joyous leap into the water and an elegant bow and curtsey.

Idle has the mark of the animator all over her. It’s a style of drawing you’ll find in the works of folks like Tony Fucile or Carter Goodrich. You can recognize an animator pretty easily right from the start. They tend to have very expressive protagonists. Take Flora, for example. Though at first she attempts to keep her face relatively placid, as the book goes on, a variety of emotions flit across her punim. From a miserable (mouthless) hurt glare to a skeptical raised eyebrow, to gentle trust, and, finally, pure pleasure. The white background sort of clinches it. Kirkus, in their review, said that there is a “courageous use of white space” in this book, and I have to agree. Yet for all that she has an animator’s heart, Idle avoids the pitfalls that have felled many from her field that have come before her. I’m talking about storyboarding. The laziest kind of picture book is the kind that feels like it began life as a serious of quick sketches tacked up on a wall somewhere. Storyboarding has its place in the world, but it is not an effective way to map out a picture book. There has to be a flow and a relationship between the pages. You have to know that by turning one you’re advancing the story right there. Idle achieves that feeling, and the reward is a tale that is as emotional as it is visual.

Idle does something particularly striking with the book that many an early 21st century reader might notice. Flora is certainly an everygirl, and in no way is that more evident than her weight. I am sorry to report that in the children’s book world, if a character is plus sized or larger than average, that will usually be the sole focus of their tale. The everyday adventures of kids that don’t look like walking popsicle sticks are nigh unto impossible to find sometimes. The nice thing about this book is that unless you want to interpret it as an exercise book (don’t) it isn’t about Flora’s pear-shaped body. Now if one were feeling somewhat cynical they might suspect that Idle is using her heroine’s weight to make her comical. I don’t think that’s really the case. Certainly the contrast between her and the flamingo is set off by their different appearances (more on that soon), but you could also argue that by giving her heroine a little more meat on her bones, Idle makes Flora easier to identify with. There are lots of overweight kids in America right now. Seems to me it shouldn’t be too hard to give them a happy dancing kid hero. Remember the “No Rain” by Blind Melon music video? It’s like that.

The unspoken (ha ha – there are no words in this book) irony here is the fact that flamingos are not usually considered unusually graceful birds. There’s a skinny gawkiness about them, and Idle makes use of that gawkiness to contrast her feathered hero with the very different awkwardness of the girl. Where he is all knobby knees and thin curled neck, she is circles and smiles. His elegant pink feet bear nothing in common with her ginormous brown flippers. This dichotomy is the striking difference that gives the book its visual kick in the pants. The white background and pink apple blossom-like flowers that frame the edges of the pages are perfectly suited to focus your attention on the bird and the girl. The flaps are just the icing on the cake.

I probably should have mentioned it before, but Flora and the Flamingo is actually a lift-the-flap picture book. If you want a fun exercise in clever book design, read just the pages with the flaps. You’ll see that at first Flora’s flap and the flamingo’s are on opposite pages with the flamingo directly in the center of his page and Flora’s flap slightly closer to the flamingo’s page. Skip ahead and you’ll see that Flora has traversed the gutter (the area found between pages) and suddenly her flap is touching the flamingo’s (no wonder he gets tetchy!). After he hurts her feelings the flaps are as far from one another as they can be. The flamingo makes good and for the first time the two characters share a single, large flap. They dance and it all builds up to a gatefold in the book that can be opened to reveal the two cannonballing happily into the water. Beautifully done.

I could get a lot of good out of this book with kids, I can see it now. First up, it would pair amusingly with another make-a-flamingo-your-buddy book, You WILL Be My Friend! by Peter Brown. As a ballet book, this title is also rather excellent. You can actually name the steps from time to time. I suppose if you absolutely had to you could even argue for this as an exercise book, but that’s pushing it. At its heart, Flora and the Flamingo is just an unassuming little story about making a friend. There’s nothing very complicated about that idea. It’s just all in how you present it, baby. Consider this one book that’s not afraid to let clever (yet essentially simple) design and good art do the heavy lifting.

On shelves March 1st.

Source: Final copy sent from publisher for review.

Like This? Then Try:

You WILL Be My Friend by Peter Brown


Ballerina Swan by Allegra Kent, illustrated by Emily Arnold McCully


Color Dance by Ann Jonas

Professional Reviews:

A star from Publishers Weekly
Kirkus

Misc:

Look inside the book yourself!

Videos:

Lest you doubt me when I proclaim Idle’s Dreamworks cred . . .

Now see the flaps in action!

Fusenews: In which I manage to work in the phrase “shirtless Jason Isaacs” seemingly with no effort at all

When you’re a parent you don’t get a whole lot of time to take off and see new movies.  Tell you something you don’t already know, right?  Well for Christmas my husband and I got a copy of Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom and even with the film in our home we STILL didn’t get around to seeing it until now.  So I wasn’t fully aware of all the fake 1960s children’s books featured in the movie.  Sure, Flavorwire calls them YA (come to my Literary Salon on February 2nd to find out why THAT drives me buggy) but they are children’s through and through.


Ah, award season.  Just so satisfying when there are so many books you like.  For example, I was quite fond of Louise Erdrich’s Chickadee this year.  It got on the New York Public Library’s 100 Titles for Reading and Sharing 2012 as well as my own 100 Magnificent Children’s Books.  But the true joy was seeing it get the 2013 Scott O’Dell Award for historical fiction.  That’s the stuff.  Those folks know their historical fiction.  Fun to see that it’s Erdrich’s second win too.


I don’t normally do much with children’s blogs, but you have to admit that one calling itself The Graphic Novelologist is a pretty darn good moniker.  More to the point he has excellent taste in books.  I agree with everything he says, and few bloggers have that power over me.  Thanks to Ayun Halliday for the link


Okay.  This next link is a bit on the inane side.  First off it’s called 38 Things You Will Never Read Again In Your Life, the “things” being books rather than, say, billboards.  Then it sort of backtracks on its title by following it up with the weasely “…unless you have children. Or you’re just still a child at heart!” Mmm hmm.  So I went through it and at first I was having a fine old time.  That is, until I discovered that the Triumvirate of Mediocrity makes an appearance on this list.  Seriously?  Buzzfeed is trying to tote Love You Forever as something that makes you cry?  Maybe if they’d called it “This precursor-to-a-horror-film classic” I’d be a little more on board.  Thanks to Kate for the link.


Get the taste of that last post out of your mouth with this rather delightful list of 10 Literary Board Games for Book Nerds.  Lots to enjoy here.  The fact that it’s 1984 in the Animal Farm game.  Or that when you play Beowulf you can’t BE Beowulf.  Or the fact that in Moby Dick nobody ever kills the whale.  I mention this all because it includes The Little Prince and is therefore on-topic, but the real reason it amuses me is that it includes a board game version of Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose.  LOVE!

Happy news for The Eric Carle Museum, yet again.  To wit:

We have great news! The Massachusetts Cultural Council (MCC) has announced that The Carle is the recipient of the 2013 Commonwealth Award for Creative Learning. This honor, one of nine being awarded, recognizes ”an individual, school, or cultural organization that has demonstrated the importance of creativity and innovation to student achievement and success.” The Museum, currently celebrating its 10th anniversary, will receive the award on February 19 during a Massachusetts State House ceremony, open to the public. To learn more about The Carle’s education programs, please go to http://www.massculturalcouncil.org/conference/comawards.asp

International Book Giving Day (which also happens to be Valentine’s Day) appears to be on the horizon.  If you haven’t heard of it before it’s basically run by a volunteer based group that invites folks to give books to friends, family members, leave them in waiting rooms for kiddos, or hospitals and shelters.  On a related note the folks behind the event are hoping to find someone to organize a Beers for Books event here in bee-autiful NYC.  Like beer?  Like books?  Like organizing stuff (the last one’s the doozy)?  Then go over here for more details.


Whoa.  Wait a minute.  Did I never let you know that over at I.N.K. (Interesting Nonfiction for Kids) Susan Kuklin took one for the team and typed up large swaths of discussion from my recent Literary Salon on “Ethics in Nonfiction for Kids”?  *checks the tapes*  Nope!  Somehow this fact never came up.  Well she did!  It’s there!  And for those of you who wanted to go and couldn’t, consider this the next best thing.


Admittedly if you say that you’ve an article on the Best kid movies adapted from children’s books you are just asking for trouble.  But sure.  Why not?  We’ll bite.  And for the most part the 20 films listed are pretty good.  Extra points to Time Out Kids New York for not including any YA adaptations (which must have been tempting).  There are, however, some NOTABLE oddities.  So rather than kvetch I’ll simply replace The Phantom Tollbooth, Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief (seriously, guys?), and The Lorax with Babe, Peter Pan (the 2003 shirtless Jason Isaacs one), and Howl’s Moving Castle.    Problem solved!


Daily Image:

Hmm.  Looking at the old photo bin and it seems a bit dry.  So what do I do when I don’t have an image on hand?  Well, first I go to bb-blog.  When I strike out there I head over to swiss miss.  And when all else fails I just end up stealing stuff from Crooked House.  Seriously, Stephany has the best images on the web.  Case in point, this lovely little bit of miniature manicure landscape art by Alice Bartlett (be sure to check them all out).

Thanks, Stephany!