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...

Naming the Baby: The Best of the Claremont Review

I haven't even seen the book yet and I'm excited about it! This anthology features the best of young adult (13-19) writing published in the Clarement Review over the past 16 years. Check the CM Magazine review for a more complete description. A fabulous resource for inspiring young writers with the work of other people their age.

If you don't know The Claremont Review, do yourself a favour and check it out. This long-running literary journal is published in Victoria, BC, but features the writing of teenagers from anywhere in the English speaking world. A fabulous place for students to submit their work and possibly even get their first taste of the thrill of publication. The journal is excellent, with some of Canada's finest writers serving as editors, so I can only assume that the quality of this collection will be fantastic. I look forward to reading this book soon.

Shi-shi-etko

Campbell, Nicola. Shi-shi-etko. Illus. Kim LaFave. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2005.

"One, two, three, four mornings left until I go to school." So begins the story of Shi-shi-etko, a young aboriginal girl who is soon to be taken from her family and sent to a residential school. In her last four days with her family, Shi-shi-etko gathers together memories of her home to hold with her until she can return the following summer.

This gentle but profoundly moving story introduces one of the most abhorrent chapters of Canadian history - the story of the forceful and legally sanctified removal of aboriginal children from their families and communities. At the Serendipity conference yesterday, it was fascinating to hear Nicola Campbell speak about trying to find a balance that would allow her to honour the harsh realities of this part of our history and share it with children without simply traumatizing them. It can't have been an easy task, but somehow she has managed to write this book with equal respect for the hearts of the children who will hear this story and the realities of the children who lived this story.

In the way that intense sadness can charge the everyday things around us with incredible sharpness and beauty, the weight of what is about to be lost fills this story with a sense of beauty and connection and quiet focused attention that only makes the impending departure more heartbreaking. The illustrations by Kim LaFave are digitally created, some borrowing from photographs taken by the author, but they have a rich painterly feel that matches Campbell's story. Like the text, the illustrations illuminate the beauty of each plant, place and person that is a part of the coming loss. The images manage to convey joy, wonder and a sense of belonging at the same time as they hold great grief.

Shi-shi-etko is not a textbook that will explain the details or legacy of residential school system to children; instead it is a beautifully told and very human story that offers readers a connected point of entry into a much larger story.

We also got a sneak preview of Nicola's next book, Shinchi's Canoe, which tells the story of Shi-shi-etko's younger brother Shinchi, and takes place primarly at the residential school itself. Another beautifully told story, due out this July.

Serendipity Children's Lit Conference

"Our people will sleep for a hundred years and when they awaken it will be the artists that give them back their spirit." - Louis Riel

As a person with a profound belief in the power of story, I love the way these words shine a light on the importance of art and story as acts of creation, survival, healing, connection and delight. And what better place to hear them than smack in the middle of a day dedicated to sharing and honouring Canadian Aboriginal children's literature.

Serendipity is an annual conference organized by the Vancouver Children's Literature Roundtable's in celebration of children's literature. And it was worth leaving my house at an ungodly hour last Saturday morning to join a few hundred librarians, writers, teachers, students and lovers of children's literature who gathered in the UBC First Nations Longhouse to hear about the stories behind some of the most beautifully crafted, thoughtful, and moving children's books coming out in Canada today.

Usually I am not much of a fan of all the introductory speechifying at conferences, but after an introduction to the Longhouse by Richard Vedan, a welcome speech by Steven Point that defied the stuffiness of his Lieutenant Governor title, and several heartfelt welcomes, I could feel a palpable difference in the room. We were all ready to get down to story. And what stories there were. We laughed; we cried; we watched a rogue squirrel face off with the leftover bannock and salmon sandwiches. All in all, it was a pretty fine day.

I met some new (stunning!) books, and got to hear the stories behind ones I knew. But, more than anything, I felt incredibly lucky to be entering a profession where story is recognized as a sustaining force in the world. From speakers to casual conversations, so much about the day reaffirmed for me that I was in the right place as a children's librarian. This is professional development? Shhh.... don't tell anyone what a wonderful time we had.

The rockstars of the day were:


Nicola Campbell: Author of Shi-shi-etko and the forthcoming Shinchi's Canoe (two picture books that tell the story of the residential school system in Canada)





Earl Einarson: Author of The Moccasins






Julie Flett: Illustrator of Zoe and the Fawn (CM review) and The Moccasins







Diane Silvey: Author of numerous novels and information books for children including The Kids book of Aboriginal Peoples in Canada (CM review)






Richard Van Camp: Author of several books including Welcome Song for Baby, A Man Called Raven, and What's the Most Beautiful Thing You Know About Horses?







Leo Yerxa: Author and illustrator of several books including Ancient Thunder and Last Leaf First Snowflake to fall

Me Write Book: It Bigfoot Memoir

Roumieu, Graham. Me Write Book: It Bigfoot Memoir. Toronto: Plume, 2005.

"Listen, I tired of tabloid distorting things about Bigfoot. Those jackal have try for years to devour me and slander good name. I write this to set record straight once and for all. Maybe also for cathartic value. For money too. So if you like hear about Bigfoot from Bigfoot this Bigfoot book for you. Come share the crying, the laugh, the cuddle, the smashing. First you accept me, then you love me."

This gentle illustrated memoir appears to be written for a sophisticated adult audience, but has enough gore, head-ripping, hollywood gossip, drugs, cussing, graphic bathroom humour, ninja moves and rock ballads to keep any teenager interested.

It may just be the funniest freaking thing I've ever read. Graham Roumieu is pee-in-pants brilliant. Thanks to my brother for this one!

Lesser Blessed

Van Camp, Richard. The Lesser Blessed. Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre, 1996.

This is not a review, it is simply a recommendation. This novel knocked me on my ass and you should probably go read it. Please go read a review (maybe this review), as I'm probably not going to write one. This is a big big story stuffed into a short 119 pages. It is also stunning and hard and very funny and beautiful and utterly readable.

New CM Review: That Stripy Cat

My new review of That Stripy Cat is up at CM Magazine, an online journal that reviews Canadian children's books and materials.

It's an appealing book - with energetic illustrations, an irresistible feline hero, interesting subject matter, and good read-aloud potential - but something about the way the text and illustrations are put together doesn't quite work for me. Find out more...

What's the most beautiful thing you know about horses?

Van Camp, Richard. What's the most beautiful thing you know about horses? Illus. George Littlechild. Children's Book Press, 2003.

My new favourite picture book of the week! (I'd heard about it but hadn't read it until I was putting together a display of Canadian authors for National Aboriginal Day.)

On a cold cold day in Fort Smith, Northwest Territories, Richard Van Camp (I would say narrator but I really want to believe that the author did do this) passes the time by calling everyone he knows and asking them to tell him the most beautiful thing they know about horses. The answers are by turns funny, touching, quirky, impossible, and lyrical but they always have the ring of true dialogue. George Littlechild's stunning illustrations use vibrant colours, bold blocky shapes and expressive lines that speak to the act of drawing and creating. The images manage to be both direct and stylized, childlike and sophisticated. This is a charming, moving and gently surprising book. Unmissable.

What-If Sara

Tregebov, Thea. What-If Sara. Illus. Leanne Franson. Toronto: Second Story Press, 1999.

Sara tries to be helpful, first with her mother's baking and then with her father's tailoring, but she can't seem to help her active imagination and busy fingers from running away on her. Only when things start to go wrong does she have the chance to prove she can rise to the challenge and help out her family. Although not the focus of the book, this story explores some of the realities of living in an immigrant family. When Sara finally does come to the rescue in the present, it is to help her father write out and deliver his bills because he has trouble with English. Even the stories that haunt her imagination - villages holding out against attacking soldiers - seem to echo the reasons a family might need to come to a new country, or the stories parents might tell to a younger generation in a new land. The layers are subtle, ringing true without feeling didactic, and the story that shines through is that of a feisty and capable young girl who uses her imagination to help save the day. The watercolour illustrations bring Sara's imagination to life, separating old world imagining from everyday activities by using a muted colour scheme for the village scenes (except for Sara and her ubiquitous companion cat), and a border of dough or thread to indicated the object into which her active mind has thrown itself.

A man called Raven

Van Camp, Richard. A man called Raven. Illus. George Littlechild. San Francisco: Children's Book Press, 1997.

When two boys mistreat a raven, a strange man they've never seen before appears to tell them a story about a man in another time and place. This man also mistreats ravens and as a consequence he is turned into raven, and unable to return to his community of people. Slowly he changes and learns to look out for his people. And sometimes, when the people are forgetting something, he changes back into a man, but never for long. The vivid colours and simple energetic shapes of the pastel and paint illustrations are reminiscent of expressive children's crayon drawings at first, but these bold and expressive images also convey character and facial expressions at a very sophisticated level and make visual reference to traditional styles. The movement and energy of the illustrations are a perfect fit for the magical shape-shifting underlay of story and the sense of wonder and realization that the narrative moves towards at the close. Both the narrative and the images work together to suggest (without much doubt) the real identity of the mysterious visitor as he leaves at the end of the story, but neither tells the reader the information directly. This book uses the traditional figure of Raven to reinforce the importance of respect for nature and for fellow creatures.

Coyote's new suit

King, Thomas. Coyote's new suit. Illus. Johnny Wales. Toronto: Key Porter Kids, 2004.

When Coyote boasts about his beautiful suit, Raven can't resist teasing him and using Coyote's vanity to wreak havoc in the forest. Soon Coyote's quest for the ultimate suit leaves many of his fellow creatures without fur and forces them to the edge of town where humans hang out their discarded clothes on lines just waiting (or so Raven promises) for someone to come claim them. Chaos breaks out when Coyote has a yard sale and the humans, who are busy trying on his collection of animal suits to replace their missing clothes, meet up with a bizarrely dressed crew of forest animals. Watercolour (and pencil?) illustrations play up the humour of the situation, especially the clothing swaps. Thomas King draws on various First Nations characters and storytelling traditions to create this story: The narrative is strong, conversational, funny, irreverent and full of trickster humour; Coyote and Raven, both tricksters, are the primary players in the story; and the long-ago past ("when animals and human beings still talked to each other") blends seamlessly with the present (baseball games, supermarkets, bingo, gold-foil pedal pushers). A playful fun story in which one trickster is out-witted by another and, as the ending suggests, doesn't ever really seem to learn his lesson.

The Wonder in Water

Swanson, Diane. The Wonder in Water. Toronto: Annick Press, 2005.

This book focuses on water in many of its different forms, providing some basic facts about the important role it plays both in human life and in the surrounding environment, and then exploring some of the more extraordinary facts and phenomena related to water. Because the subject is broken into discrete topics (like sweat, puddles, rain, and marshes) the book doesn’t do a great job of talking about the water cycle itself although the connections are mentioned in passing within the text of each section. These mini-chapters also don’t always focus on the topic named: The “sweat” section, for instance, acts more as an introduction with general facts about the importance of water to human survival and the amount of water in the polar ice caps. The strength of the book is in the outrageous and fascinating facts described, such as the turtle that once fell inside a giant hail ball or the phenomenon of rain-delivered slime mold that can move across fields or up telephone poles. The photographs are appealing and informative, the design is attractive and contemporary looking, the tone of the text is conversational and accessible, but the overall organization doesn't appear conducive to an overall understanding of the topic. Where this book shines is its ability to invoke wonder at the natural world. There are no sources for the information which, considering the extraordinary nature of the facts, is a little disapointing but probably not uncommon for books aimed at such a young audience.

** out of 4

Looking at other reviews:

Hazel Rochman's review (Booklist via Amazon.com) seems more positive than mine, but does also focus on the extraordinary facts as the main strength of the book. She also highlights the "chatty" tone of the narrative as a positive feature, especially for read-alouds, whereas I found the tone conversational but a little condescending or overdone in places.

Elaine Fuhr's review for CM was even more positive (giving the book 3 1/2 stars out of four), but she focuses on the same sense of wonder and the "wow" factor produced by this extraordinary collection of facts.

Hemp Jewellery

Sadler, Judy Ann. Hemp Jewellery. Illus. June Bradford. Toronto, ON: Kids Can Press, 2005. [From the Kids Can Do It series].

After a brief introduction to the materials and core techniques, this basic and somewhat formulaic how-to book presents several individual projects that can be made using hemp twine and beads. Each project begins with a list of required materials and a photo of a kid modelling the finished project, and then provides step-by-step instructions. Each of the steps are numbered, the instructions are effective and succinct, and the ink-and-watercolour illustrations of each individual step make it easy to follow along. The text and visual components work well together in a functional sense – they allow the reader to learn the techniques and construct the featured projects – but there is little inspiration to be found in this book either in enthusiasm for the topic or in the visual appeal. The cover, with photos on a mauve and turquoise background decorated with geometric patterns, manages to look both overly juvenile and outdated (circa early 1990s?). And the subject matter itself seems dated as well - are kids still making hemp jewellery, or did this fad mostly die about ten years ago? If someone wants to make hemp necklaces or bracelets, this book is a useful and functional resource that will give them the basic information they need to get started. The book will do little, however, to introduce readers to a new subject or inspire them to learn a new skill.

* out of 4 (or ** being generous)

Looking at other reviews: Other people seemd to review this particular book much more positively than I did. I did notice, however, that many reviewers spent most of their space describing the book and very little actually evaluating it.

Carolyn Phelan (Booklist review via Amazon.com) and I agree about how easy the instructions are to follow, but we seem to have different ideas about what makes a book "attractive." (Although I do admit that my issues are mostly with the cover - the step-by-step illustrations are clear and attractive in the tradition of knot-tying instructional guides, which is an aesthetic I happen to enjoy). She also notes the lack of discussion about the social implications and views of the material itself, which I hadn't noticed.

Grace Sheppard's review in CM is positive for the most part, but ends on this intersting note: "Despite the possibility of macramé flashback for some readers, this book will be heavily used by crafters at school and public libraries." Who is she thinking will be having the macrame flashbacks? The elementary school kids? I think flashback is the operative word here, but for me this meant an trip back to early university days when hemp jewellery was all the rage in the twenty-something crowd at festivals and markets. I may be dangerously out of touch with the elementary crowd, but I really don't think this particular craft has the currency and appeal of, say, a how-to book about drawing manga.

Thieves: Ten stories of surprising heists, comical capers and daring escapades

Schroeder, Andreas. Thieves: Ten stories of surprising heists, comical capers and daring escapades. Annick Press, 2005.

From the theft of the Mona Lisa to the story of an 18th century French cleric who stole and ate 15 files per week to prevent innocent people from being executed, this book offers up gripping stories of real-lives thieves from the past 150 years. The stories are dramatized in suspenseful prose that splits the difference between storytelling and journalism, offering both the historical facts and the unanswered questions for consideration. The book starts with an introduction that briefly highlights some of the stranger stories of theft in history and gives a sense of the breadth of professional thievery, and ends with the sources for this and the ten central stories. With ten years of experience reporting on famous hoaxes and scams for a national radio program, Schroeder is the perfect candidate to author a book on this topic, and he pulls it off well.

Considered in the context of the buzz about information books as excellent resources for enticing reluctant readers or supporting those learning a new language, this book does not entirely fit the model. The book is entirely text-based and so, other than the factual origins of the stories, this book resembles many fiction books. The fact that it is divided into ten short sections may make it less intimidating to read than a novel, but generally it does not have the initial appeal of many informational books based on their highly visual format, small accessible blocks of text, and appealing graphic layout. This may be partly since the book appears to be aimed at an older audience, probably up to grade nine or ten. The appeal of this book is not the format but the content: It will appeal not to those who feel novels are too hard but to those who prefer learning about exciting real-life stories. Even so, the cover does little to sell the book, with a painted bank robbery scene reminiscent of older adventure novels which somehow falls short of retro-cool. This is a shame since the content is well-written and the high-action subject matter will have great appeal to many readers.

***1/2 out of 4

Looking at other reviews: Ann G. Brouse's review in Library School Journal (via Amazon.com) agrees about the suspense and excitement of the stories, but she chooses to focus more on describing the content of several chapters which makes sense since this is the strength of the book.

Me and Mr. Mah

Spalding, Andrea. Me and Mr. Mah. Illus. Janet Wilson. Victoria, BC: Orca Book Publishers, 1999.

Following his parents separation, Ian leaves farm life behind and moves into the city with his mother. Their new moonscape of a yard doesn't look anything like the farm, and Ian misses his father intensely. But on the other side of the fence is a lush green world of sunflowers and Chinese vegetables tended by Mr. Mah. Through a common love of gardening, the two neighbours become friends and exchange stories about farming days in rice paddies and prairie fields. Each has a precious box of memories from a time and place now gone, but the two friends also create new memories together as they explore the city (which, from the images of Chinatown and the Chinese cemetery by the ocean, appears to be Victoria, BC). The watercolour paintings are lush and appear saturated with sunlight. On most pages one full-page illustration bleeds over into a smaller painting on the facing page, leaving plenty of white space for the text. In one spread, however, the two figures sit in the centre foreground while one side shows a remembered scene from a rice paddy and the other a prairie field. The gutter is the divide between scenes, but the rich ochre colour scheme ties the two fields together and underscores the connection between the two characters in relation to their former lives and losses. A beautiful and touching story about loss, change, loneliness, and friendship across both age and culture.

Yuck, A Love Story

Gillmor, Don. Yuck, A Love Story. Illus. Marie-Louise Gay. Toronto: Stoddart Kids, 2000.

[assignment: write a blurb]

When Amy moves in next door, Austin Grouper isn't impressed. Girls - yuck! Amy has red hair and freckles and doesn't believe that he can see through walls and door with his X-ray vision. But when Austin decides to lasso the moon as a present for Amy's birthday, he accidentally sets off on an adventure that leads him around the globe - past Mexico, through the arctic, and right back to Amy's yard. Using pen, ink and watercolour illustrations, award-winning illustrator Marie-Louise Gay has created two quirky and believable characters who just might find a "yuck" to agree on. An endearing story about a first crush.

The Dragon New Year: A Chinese Legend

Bouchard, David. The Dragon New Year: A Chinese Legend. Illus. Shong-Yang Huang. Vancouver, BC: Raincoast Books, 1999.

This story is tells the tale of the imagined origin of the traditional Chinese New Year celebration, but also provides a section at the end that clearly shows where the facts end and the author's imagination begins. There is a strong sense of storytelling in the narrative which means that even though the story is long, it remains compelling. The paintings stay true to the story in the text, providing stunning visuals that range from more realistic depictions in the present-time narrative bookmarks at the opening and closing of the story (see the cover image), to more a impressionist-like expressiveness and energy in the re-telling of the old tale. On their own, however, the pictures do not tell a story - they show individual scenes but there is not logical narrative that comes out of the sequence of these images. The illustrations are beautiful and masterful on their own, and even though they function more like a slide show to accompany a storytelling event, this is an undeniably gorgeous book.

Ancient Thunder

Yerxa, Leo. Ancient Thunder. Toronto, ON: House of Anansi Press, 2006.

The text is simple, short, potent and full of wonder. The fact that it doesn't follow the linear structure of a traditional English sentence, choosing instead to string together a series of related clauses with an unmentioned subject, puts it more in the realm of poetry than narrative. But the illustrations are the true focus of this book: using paint on watercolour paper, Leo Yerxa (an artist of Ojibway ancestry) recreates the look of traditional painted leather clothing of the native people of the Great Plains. The story is told through the designs on the back of the shirts and dresses, with other collaged or paper-crafted elements added in the background.

That being said, the text does not pale in the shadow of the illustrations but works with it. Not only does the lyrical language suit the mood of the images, it also creates a dependency between illustration and text since the visual cues are needed to understand the text which never once names the horses as the main focus of what is essential a song of praise for these creatures and their prairie landscape. A visually stunning and extraordinary book that celebrates horses and their place in lives of the native people of the Great Plains.

Monkey Business

Edwards, Wallace. Monkey Business. Toronto, ON: Kids Can Press, 2004.

This book reminds me of The King Who Rained, a book of visual/linguistic puns which was a family favourite when I was growing up. Though not structurally a narrative, this book manages to make little self-contained animal-focused stories out of figures of speech ("monkey business" or "letting the cat out of the bag") through detailed and sophisticated watercolour, gouache and pencil crayon illustrations. Not only do the the illustrations transform common idioms into literal pictures, they also add additional visual puns in relation to the original text which add to the layers of linguistic and visual complexity in what might appear (considering the breifness of the text) to be quite a simple book. The illustrations are so complex that when I arrived at the last page that asked if I had found the monkey on every page, I hadn't noticed even one after the original "monkey business" spread. And they weren't easy to find even when I was looking.

Great not only for reading aloud to younger children for the delight of the illustrations, it could be a great tool for discussing idiomatic language with older students or those learning English as a second (or additional) language.

The Party

Reid, Barbara. The Party. Toronto, ON: Scholastic Canada, 1997.

This book is an energetic recounting of a typical family picnic and party. The rhyming text is fun and uses rich language, but it sometimes feels forced or stumbles into awkward cadence; there is no question that the real star of this book is the illustration in plasticine. Not only are the technique, detail and execution of the three-dimensional work extraordinay in and of themselves, but the illustrations are fantastically expressive. Their portrayal of character, whether it be the looming kiss from Aunt Joan or the cake-smeared faces of kids hiding under the picnic table, takes the medium beyond simple novelty to art form. The changing cast of the afternoon and evening light creates and uncanny sense of the passing of the day - the tones slowly deepen and the candles and string of porch lights cast a yellow glow on the surfaces around them. The illustrations also extend and explain the text so that a raid on the dragon's treasure in the text becomes a plan to steal a bowl of chips out from under a sleeping uncle. Even the photography adds to the story with its versatility - in one spread it creates a blurred-motion image of dizzy children while in another the image is crisp enough to see the finger-prints of the artist.