A Kick in the Head

Janeczko, Paul. A Kick in the Head: An Everyday Guide to Poetic Forms. Illus. by Chris Raschka. Cambridge, MA: Candlewick, 2005.

I just got a new job and a lovely co-worker just surprised me with this beautiful book as a going away (though not very far – I’ll just be at a different branch) kind of present. Wow. It’s simply stunning. The book covers 29 different forms of poetry, with examples and brief explanations. But the clean spare presentation speaks more to a showcase than a textbook. Each poem is given its own page, with a brief note at the bottom indicating the name and basic structure of the form. Further explanations (about a paragraph each) can be found for each form in a section at the end of the book. And the illustrations (a combination of paint and collage) are both stunning and appropriate, with plenty of white space to give the design a sophisticated feel. This is no surprise, given Chris Raschka’s previous success with children’s book such as YO! YES? and Charlie Parker Played Be Bop. But even the smallest details, like the small blue painted icons created to represent each form, are brilliant: Perfect whimsical little symbols that somehow perfectly echo something essential about the nature of the form (a syllable count, the number of lines, a theme), without being strictly representative.

I love poetry, and I love great children’s books. What a gorgeous present. Any teachers exploring poetry will find this book to be a powerful ally – both as a source of information and inspiration. And since the book is simple, accessible, and yet entirely devoid of condescension, it will work with a wide range of ages. I know I’ll be consulting it the next time I need to remember exactly how a pantoum works, or simply when I’m scouting for ideas.

Graceling

Cashore, Kristin. Graceling. Orlando, FL : Harcourt, 2008.

I’m assembling a mental list for my adult friends who have read all of Tamora Pierce’s teen fantasy novels, and are looking for other great books to turn when they want to spend an indulgent winter day in that comfortable chair by the window entranced by another world.

Most of these stories feature a fiercely strong female lead in a traditionally male-dominated domain, an otherworldly or magical talent that sets her apart from her peers, a great challenge of justice, and often a bit of reluctant romance to take our wildly independent protagonist by surprise (without threatening to tame her).

Recently I enjoyed Shannon Hale’s Goose Girl which, though a little more gentle than Pierce’s novels, still brings a rich a satisfying story to the table. But Graceling has a fiercer edge to it, a little more wildness. Now in her late teens, Katsa is a deadly figher, albeit a reluctant one. Since she was a child, Katsa’s eyes – one green and one blue – have marked her as gifted with a Grace, an extreme and superhuman skill. Used as a pawn by the King, she learns to despise her skill – the Grace of killing – and eventually seeks to control her own destiny and make her own decisions. When she meets Prince Po, Graced with combat skills, she discovers an uncomfortable match for her own powers and an unexpected ally. When a mission to rescue a prisoner gradually reveals a larger and much deadlier plot for power, the two must team up against a force that threatens all of the seven kingdoms.

The romance here is more prominent than in Pierce’s novels, but includes similar themes such as the struggle to reconcile vulnerability and independence. I enjoyed the underlying erotic tension of a deadly female fighter who finally meets a man skilled enough to give her a satisfying fight. And although Katsa learns to love, to trust, and to live with some measure of vulnerability, she never loses her wild and fiercely independent nature. And she doesn't seem to lose any of her personal distaste for marriage.

I occasionally wondered whether it might be too close to Pierce’s writing for some of my friends, but I thoroughly enjoyed this book. And apparently, according to the back cover blurbs, so did Tamora Pierce: "Here's a WOW of a book! Seeing half-wild Katsa learn humanity as she battles soldiers, storms, and her own obsessive nature--I HAD to know how it ended!" As a first novel, Graceling becomes even more impressive. Kristin Cashore is a writer to watch out for. My only complaint is that I have to wait for more news of this world. Well, not too long. Fire, the prequel to Graceling, is due out this fall. And a third book is apparently in the works.

Penguin and the Cupcake

Penguins and cupcakes - could there be a more charming combination?

Read my review in the latest edition of CM Magazine...

Mrs. Chicken and the Hungry Crocodile

Pay, Won-Ldy and Margaret Lippert. Mrs. Chicken and the Hungry Crocodile. Illus. by Julie Paschkis. Henry Holt and Co., 2003.

When vain Mrs. Chicken strays a little too close to the river while trying to look at her reflection, she gets snapped up by a hungry crocodile. Held captive on an island in the river, she uses her wits to convince the crocodile that they are sisters. And sisters don't eat sisters for dinner. Talking animals, great dialogue, hatching babies, trickery, sharp teeth, and a gullible predator - this book has it all. The illustrations are stunning - simple stylized images in a limited range of bold colours - and the pages are beautifully designed with plenty of white (or black) space.

I've been doing a bunch of kindergarten outreach, and this retelling of a folktale from Liberia is one of my all-time favourite read-alouds for this age group. I'm not exactly sure why, but it's one of those magic stories that slowly makes the room go quiet. There's nothing quite like a room full of rapt five-year olds to make you appreciate a book even more than you did before. The story is plenty funny, with room for fun voices and many laughs, but it doesn’t depend on obnoxious or ridiculous humour to entertain; it’s just masterful storytelling. The text is complex and has enough tension to keep 5, 6 or 7 year olds interested, but is also accessible enough to read to a family storytime group with a mix of toddlers, preschoolers, and school-age children.

Time Twister

My review for Frank Asch's Time Twister, the latest in his Journals of a Cardboard Genius series, is up at CM Magazine. A humorous, quirky, action-packed, time-travelling science fiction adventure with great read-aloud potential. Check it out...

A new review at CM

I'm still here. Really! I've just been laying low as I started an excellent new job as a children's librarian. I hope to resurface soon.

My latest review is up at CM Magazine for Colors! ¡Colores! It's a quiet but truly beautiful bilingual picture book that reads like poetry - in a good way. And that's something I don't say lightly. And the watercolor illustrations - simple, exquisite, whimsical, wow! Check it out.

Also in the latest edition of CM, one of the most unusual takes on a color concept book I've come across: The Black Book of Colors. This picture book describes colors by texture, taste, smell and sound, with both text and braille. The illustrations are rendered entirely in black with raised black lines. I'm intrigued. Can't wait to get that one in my hot little hands.

Smash! Crash!

Scieszka, Jon. Smash!Crash! Illus. by David Shannon, Loren Long and David Gordon. Simon & Schuster, 2008.

I've been stashing this book in the bottom of my storytime box with the same way one might hide a stash of tiny bills in their shoe during a serious game of monopoly. And yesterday, on an antsy rainy day, when over half of the kids brought their pet trucks to storytime, I knew its time had come. Our library has an entire section of picture books called "Things that Go" - planes, trains, race cars, garbage trucks, etc. - and the things circulate like crazy. But it's often hard to find one that will hold up as a read-aloud story. Some are pure poetry, in the tradition of Donald Crews' Freight Train, but most follow the plot of "let's go visit the fire station" or "gosh, there are some really big trucks out there." So when Smash! Crash! showed up on the new books truck, I nabbed it right away. This is the first in Jon Scieszka's Trucktown series, and it features the two best friends Jack Truck and Dump Truck Dan who like to, yes you guessed it, smash and crash. This habit tends to get them into trouble but, when Rosie the Wrecking Crane needs help, who better to call on than our two trouble-making friends?

Within seconds everyone was listening intently, and crowding onto the mats up front. Even the pet trucks were still. It's a great read-aloud with the possibility for fun voices, repeating lines, loads of action, charismatic truck characters (who presumably will each take centre stage in later installments of the series), energetic illustrations and, best of all, it's actually got a story to it. There was a minor riot to manage as kids rushed for the book after the last song, and at least one hold placed on the spot when no other truck book on the shelf would do. When I walked by the story room an hour and a half later, a handful of kids were playing a rousing (yet oddly respectful) game of "smash and crash," and the kid who had signed out the book was still carrying it possessively under one arm.

I had a little moment when it seemed like the only two obviously girl trucks were playing pirates while all the other trucks were doing real-world jobs, but the appearance of a very tough Rosie the Wrecking Crane put those reservations to rest.

This series is a book marketer's dream: content (trucks! construction! smashing!) that sells itself, a series of high-energy recurring characters (and animated truck characters at that), a children's author who is practically a household name (Jon "rhymes with Fresca" Scieszka), and a team of illustrators who are no light-weights either. In a time when children's books are not exempt from the machinations of brand recognition, this series has what it needs to succeed. But it's nice to see a series that draws on the creativity established children's writers and artists rather than using TV programs for instant branding to sell books with minimal content.

As a girl with a pickup truck of her own, I'm thinking this book will go far. Perhaps too far for my own taste, actually, with a 52-book series already planned, and TV and other media spinoffs in the unspecified future (see the Publishers Weekly article here)... So I'm planning to enjoy it now while Trucktown is a book series and not yet an empire.

Shortcomings

Tomin, Adrian. Shortcomings. London: Faber and Faber, 2007. [Published in Canada and the US by Drawn & Quarterly, 2007.]

Hey. Adult reading treat alert. And by “adult” I don’t mean that it’s too graphic or sexual for teens, but that the grad school humour probably just isn’t all that funny if you’re seventeen. It’s the first graphic novel I’ve read by Adrian Tomine, but I’ll probably look for more. His writing is great and his clean black-and-white illustrations are impressive – both in their technical ability and their able to convey a wide but subtly nuanced emotional range.

Shortcomings is the story of Ben Tanaka, a neurotic 30 year old theatre manager secretly obsessed with white girls. It seems, however, that Ben's secret isn't much of a secret to the people around him, especially not to his more politically-minded girlfriend Miko who organizes the Asian-American film festival in town. And Ben’s best friend Alice - tough, mouthy, plans to sleep with all the young women in her department by the time she finishes her PhD - seems to find it endlessly amusing. But when currents of identity collide, nothing is as simple as it seems. While Alice might be tough and tirelessly promiscuous, she also drags Ben along to a wedding as her pretend boyfriend in an attempt to placate her Korean parents. When Ben’s girlfriend leaves Berkeley for a mysterious internship in at the Asian American Independent Film Institute in New York, Ben has a chance to wallow, obsess, and let his neuroses flourish. But he also has a chance to do a little exploring of his own.

The content is interesting both in its examination of the intersections of race, sexuality, and gender politics and also in its ability to find humour in all of it. But although the issues are interesting, the human story always takes centre stage. The writing seems breathtakingly honest without ever feeling confessional, and the characters are entirely believable (I think I know a few of them). If you’ve ever done most of a women studies degree, and almost drowned in the minutia of identity politics but somehow you still care about the issues even if some of the conversations make you want to barf because you’ve had them so many times... this is a book for you. And even if this isn’t you, you might really enjoy this book because, well, it’s just kind of brilliant.

Shortcomings manages to be both bleak and funny – though I wouldn’t say it’s laugh-out-loud funny, it’s more of the ‘oh, yes, ouch! I know that’ kind of funny. And occasionally it’s snort and choke when you weren’t expecting it kind of funny. There’s no happy ending, but I don’t need that here – a little bit of brilliance will do just fine thank you.

Another book from the Serendipity Conference...

Einarson, Earl. The Moccasins. Illus. by Julie Flett. Theytus Books Ltd., 2005.

There is no lack of picture books about unconditional love (Mama Do You Love Me? and Love you Forever jump to mind) but, done well, it isn't something I get tired of seeing. How often, though, do we get stories of unconditional love set in a foster family? Luckily this is not only a book the world needs, it is also a charming, well-written and generally appealing book. The Moccasins tells the story of a child whose foster mother gives him a gift of moccasins to help him feel proud of his Aboriginal background. Much in the way children are able to grant special powers to toys (the Velveteen Rabbit) or blankets (Linus), the moccasins make physically tangible the love, pride and comfort that the boy's mother offers him with this gift. And somehow Einarson, with the help of illustrator Julie Flett, is able to transfer some of the magic into this book so that the object of the book itself seems immensely comforting. The text is simple and straightforward, with very few linguistic tricks, but it is unexpectedly moving. The love and care pictured in this particular family might not reflect the experience of every child growing up in a foster family (or any kind of family for that matter), but that is doesn't mean this is any less of an essential book. The fact that it is based on the author's own experience might be part of what makes it moving - or perhaps it's just a good story.

And Julie Flett. Wow. I tell you, this is a woman to watch out for. Her computer-aided collages combine a spare playful contemporary aesthetic with the kind of emotional expressiveness that makes children's books sing. I like like like. Check out her next book, Zoe and the Fawn to see more of the magic she can make. In The Moccasins, I found the first illustration particularly moving in its ability to convey almost viscerally the sense of comfort and safety suggested by the text: When I was young, my foster brothers and I slept together in one room. My bed was on the far end. I always waited until I heard them sleeping before I would fall asleep. I felt warm and loved.

I wish this book was the standard 32 pages rather than 16 - the text would survive being spread out a little and, more importantly, it would give the book room for more illustrations. As is stands, the book features only six pages of primary illustration, plus secondary illustrations on the pages with text. It seems unnecessarily short to me, but maybe that's just because I was enjoying it. This shorter length, combined with the soft cover and the small size (6"x8"?), might make the book seem less serious as a picture book than it really is. And that's unfortunate because this story deserves all the attention it can get.

I finally got my copy of this book (thanks Mom!), because at the conference the entire stack of them disappeared within minutes of Earl Einarson's and Julie Flett's talks. No great surprise there. I'm hoping Earl Einarson's got some more stories in him...

This one's for you Mom....

With Passover on the horizon, our thoughts naturally turn to gefilte fish. And how, you may ask, do we introduce children to this profound and central icon of our cultural identity? Look no further...

Thanks to MotherReader for introducing me to this book as part of the 2008 Weird-Ass Picture Book Awards.

Horowitz, Dave. Five Little Gefiltes. Putnam, 2007.