(2) K-3 "And that, class, is what we call metamorphosis... Are there any questions?" Our young protagonist does indeed have a question (per question-mark thought bubble) but is immediately plagued by self-consciousness and doubt. No one else seems to have one, and asking would just shine an unwanted spotlight. A series of what-ifs? goes through the child's mind, played out in clear, lively digital car-toons with oversize, shout-y speech balloons: "YOU CALL THAT A QUESTION?...LOOK, EVERYONE! IT'S SILLY-QUESTION KID!...SILLY-QUESTION KID IS IN OUR CLASS!" After a brief imagined sojourn to outer space, where there's no one to poke fun at question-askers--but there's no one to answer questions, either--the child returns to the real-life classroom, cautiously raises a hand, and voices the query: "How do you know if a caterpillar is going to turn into a butterfly or a moth?" A very good question--and one that opens the floodgates for other classmates' wonderings. (Who would win in a fight, a butterfly or a moth?) Reluctant queriers will relate to the issues raised by the story, which doesn't take itself too seriously, and may well feel a sense of relief and reassurance. Although some of the questions are actually quite ridiculous ("Can I be a moth?"), the act of asking them isn't.

Reviewer: Elissa Gershowitz | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2023

(2) PS Illustrated by Marc Rosenthal. A minor drama unfolds when Duck and Cat visit the playground and find a new taller and curvier slide. Duck is excited to try it, but Cat has concerns. Could this slide be "too exciting" or "too fun"? Rather than admit fear, Cat tries to steer Duck toward the familiar swings and sandbox, but Duck keeps gravitating back to that slide. This picture book has all the hallmarks of a beginning reader--limited vocabulary, short sentences, strong visual support of plot, lots of sight words, and ample word repetition--and it can serve just as well for new readers as it can for storytimes. Rosenthal's pastel-hued, cartoon-style illustrations add warmth, humor, and nuance. Duck's open facial expressions telegraph excitement, while Cat's, in contrast, cycle through worry, hope, desperation, and determination. In the end, Cat realizes that good friends don't deny friends new experiences, and the slide turns out to be enjoyable for everyone. Many books for young children explore conquering fear, but fewer contextualize how one's fear can dampen someone else's good time; this book adds something fresh to the shelf.

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(2) 4-6 Sixth grader Amelia MacGuffin is a worrier. As the eldest of five siblings, she worries about everything from changing the part in her hair to the MacGuffin family's tight finances. So when the mythically lucky wooden staff that is the centerpiece of the annual Dragonfly Day Festival goes missing from Urchin Beach's town square, Amelia decides to channel her worry into finding the thief. Her investigation is hampered by the unexpected arrival of a lost dog in her backyard, a flood that threatens both the festival and the delicate ecosystem that supports the native dragonflies, and the sheer number of possible suspects. With the help of a local mystery author, a trusted librarian, and her own common sense, Amelia surprises herself by solving the crime. But bringing the (beloved and well-known) criminal to justice will prove to be a much harder task. This charming small-town mystery romp will appeal to a wide range of junior detectives, especially those who are also invested in issues of climate change and environmental preservation. Amelia's close-knit beach community of family, friends, and neighbors forms a relatable cast of secondary characters who provide both support and comic relief. Fans of Yan Glaser's resourceful Vanderbeeker clan and Pennypacker's problem-solving protagonists will be delighted that the ending suggests this is just the first of Amelia's adventures.

Reviewer: Jennifer Hubert Swan | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(2) 4-6 Cuevas (The Total Eclipse of Nestor Lopez; Cuba in My Pocket, rev. 11/21) presents another humorous, sensitive, and compelling story, with hints of fantasy, horror, and science fiction. Rafael, a twelve-year-old Cuban American from Miami, likes to lose himself in role-playing games with his friends. These extended fantasy adventures help him forget how much his life has changed since his mother became ill. After a game-based prank goes badly, his father sends him away for the summer to Rancho Espanto in New Mexico. There Rafa makes new friends while working as a ranch hand, but still living mostly in his fantasy world. When he encounters what he believes is a ghost and has glimpses of alternate realities, Rafa must confront his own "ghosts" and deal with his fears in real life. The character experiences northern New Mexico through a newcomer's eyes, and Cuevas's descriptions of grooming horses, hiking in canyons, and eating green chilies are vivid and immediate. The author incorporates Cuban Spanish words and phrases naturally into the narrative. Topics of illness, death, anxiety, and PTSD give this book some depth but do not overwhelm the story or detract from its appeal to a diverse audience.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2023

(2) K-3 Violet spots a pack of eighty-four "brand-new, never-used, perfect crayons" in a store and is ecstatic when (after some wheeling and dealing) they become hers. She imagines all of the wonderful, colorful things she can draw, but soon realizes that she can't bring herself to use the crayons. Little sister Marigold questions why; Violet responds, "They are too pretty. I don't want to ruin them...I think I'll save them for another day." But that day doesn't come, and Violet's mood declines--especially once Marigold decides to help herself to their use. Thankfully, the sisters are able to come to an understanding, "and together, they wore down the perfectly pointed tips of eighty-four brand-new, never-used, perfect crayons." The illustrations are drawn digitally, with the palette sometimes reflecting Violet's emotions (e.g., when she first encounters the crayons, gray backgrounds give way to more varied colors). Textured, crayon-like strokes create a colorful, relatable world. The text uses accessible language and conveys its message about embracing the imperfect without being overly didactic. This story makes a useful social-emotional learning resource and will resonate with anyone hesitant to change or with tendencies toward perfectionism.

Reviewer: Sara Danver | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(2) K-3 In this childlike, stream-of-consciousness narrative, James's (Nice Try, Charlie!, rev. 9/20) opening illustration depicts a child exiting a door, on the way to meet his father at his new place. There the two explore a nearby abandoned field teeming with frogs and tadpoles. It's the rainy season; first small, then larger puddles form. With great certainty the child tells readers about these creatures and their surroundings. "My dad says puddles like this are called ephemeral ponds. That means they won't last for very long." Here frogs hatch into tadpoles ("Frog eggs are called spawn," the boy relates), but not all thoughts are as certain. He shares how scared he was when his father moved out, scared that he wouldn't love him anymore, but the father reassures him that "some things never change." James's mixed-media illustrations in gouache, acrylics, and collage show both the factual and emotional parts of the text. The outside setting, rain-drenched and sweeping, depicts the science of which the child is so certain. But a sequence of small, intimate frames addresses his insecurities about his father, slowing down the action and encouraging readers to ponder these thoughts. Information on the life cycle of frogs and ephemeral ponds, an author's note about his own childhood explorations, and additional reading suggestions expand the text. This multilayered book comes full circle as the boy returns to the original door and his mother's warm embrace.

Reviewer: Betty Carter | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(1) 1-3 In her third adventure, Marisol (Maybe Maybe Marisol Rainey, rev. 5/21, and sequel) helps her friend Felix learn to ride a bicycle, navigates her best friend Jada's jealousy that Marisol is spending so much time with Felix, and worries about a neighbor's scary-looking German shepherd, who has gone missing. (At bedtime, after learning that the dog has escaped, Marisol "wonders where he is. She wonders if he will be waiting for her in the morning with all his teeth.") Marisol is an anxious second grader, and her concerns are emotionally spot-on. The limited omniscient narration means that readers know what the protagonist is feeling and thinking while still viewing the world from outside of her head. The book design is approachable for young readers, featuring wide margins, plenty of white space, and an abundance of line drawings. Give this to fans of Dominguez's Stella Diaz Has Something to Say (rev. 5/18) or those ready to move on from Faruqi's Meet Yasmin!

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(2) PS At breakfast, May can't eat a bite--her stomach is too full of fluttering butterflies. She seeks solace from the natural world in her back garden, whispering her fears to the goldfish in the fishpond and wishing she could spend her days like a bee among the flowers. May's mama reassures her that even her favorite creatures feel worried about trying new things: "A tiny bird has to learn to fly...Even a butterfly has to learn to spread its wings." But May is still anxious as she gets closer to what's worrying her: the first day of school. When she arrives, though, she finds an empty seat at the coloring table and a new friend along with it. Depictions of May's bustling classroom in mixed-media illustrations that include pencil and pencil crayon will beckon to readers and viewers. Occasional spreads featuring expressive vignettes against white space enliven the presentation. Morris's encouraging language ("May's classroom...was warm and bright") and calm illustrations will soothe soon-to-be students and apprehensive caregivers alike. Just right to dispel those pesky butterflies everybody faces sometimes--"and when they are gone, there is finally room for breakfast."

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(2) K-3 Bob, a teardrop-shaped bird, is risk averse. When Crow invites him to perch with the other crows on the telephone wire, Bob worries about what might go wrong (bad breath, a collapse). He makes up an excuse: "Oh thanks...but um...I've got loads to do out East--maybe later?" He in fact has nothing to do out East but flies off anyway. Bob meets Pigeon, who offers him some city-street delicacies. He's curious--and hungry--but fears the new foods could make him sick. He makes an excuse and wings it to another locale. Down South, Flamingo encourages Bob to swim at the beach; it's no surprise that Bob can't...he has a meeting out West. Finally, Bob encounters majestic Eagle, who empathizes with Bob's anxieties and inspires him to take a series of "mini chances." This successful experience gives Bob the confidence to visit Flamingo and Pigeon on the way home and try what he'd avoided before. (The everything bagel blows his mind: "OMG. Are you kidding me with this deliciousness?!") Rim's (­illustrator of Happy Springtime!, rev. 5/21) watercolor, pencil, and digital illustrations are full of humor and energy, as is the personality-filled text. This power-of-positive-thinking story speaks to the Bob in all of us.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(2) K-3 Hannah loves playing the violin, but she dreads performing in an upcoming recital. Mixed-media illustrations (charcoal, acrylic paint, pastel, and digital media) deftly swing between the girl's reality and her fantasies as the time of the recital looms closer. "She secretly wished something wild would happen," and after the page-turn, a bird outside her window (highlighted with a visual spotlight) becomes an entire flock whisking her recital outfit out the door "so she wouldn't have to go." The next page reveals the truth and a narrative refrain: "But nothing wild happened." The rabbits she conjures up from under the kitchen floor do not run away with her violin, nor do the outdoor fountain dolphins carry her away on their backs. Pastel shades become vivid swirling colors in Hannah's imagination but always dull again to recall her real-life plight. Soon she finds herself heading onstage, where art and text work together to manifest her nervousness, and the spotlight that has signaled magic throughout the story now centers on her. When Hannah starts to play, the art turns bold and fantastical again as she loses her self-consciousness in the joy of playing her violin. Small visual details throughout, including Hannah's lively siblings and her father's quick stop to buy flowers, make the book especially warm. It closes with a family celebration; however, some of the swirling lines and bold color remain, leaving Hannah and readers awash in the heady glow of a memorable and inspiring performance.

Reviewer: Julie Roach | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(2) PS How do you find something you can't see? A pigtailed girl in a yellow pith helmet explains how she lost her invisible dinosaur. "He had gotten REALLY dirty." A crayon drawing by the narrator shows her washing a muddy dinosaur-shaped figure. But once she hoses away the mud, the dinosaur disappears. Determined to find him, she makes a dino-load of PB&J sandwiches (his favorite snack) and leaves a trail of them, hoping to lure him back home. No luck, though the local wildlife is happy. She hangs "missing" posters, but a picture of an invisible dinosaur isn't very helpful. A series of three double-page spreads features more of the narrator's artwork showing how rain, snow, or a pile of leaves makes seeing the outline of her dinosaur easier--nicely hinting at how he's revealed a few pages later. The story's gentle pacing and effective page-turns help build suspense. Yoon's (Off-Limits, rev. 11/21) uncluttered mixed-media illustrations have a breeziness that matches the tone of the text, telegraphing to listeners that there's really nothing to worry about. If you know how to look, sometimes the impossible is possible.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Kate Berube. Barnett and Berube offer a sensitive story about a boy grappling with stage fright and insecurity. The main character, John, walks into the narrative on the front endpaper carrying a duffle bag, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. A page-turn welcomes readers into a busy school auditorium where breakfast is ending and children are beginning to sit in front of a stage. An unnamed narrator explains the school's weekly Sharing Gifts assembly and notes John's anxiety: "He was quiet at breakfast. We knew why." Barnett's use of "we" builds a sense of intimacy, reinforced by Berube's warm ink and paint illustrations depicting students with many different skin tones, hair types and textures, and affects. The pace slows and suspense builds over a number of pages that show John suiting up in his ballet leotard and contemplating what he is about to face. A double-page spread puts readers onstage with the boy looking out at students who are distracted and whispering. Then Berube's illustrations burst into motion in a series of wordless spreads as John begins dancing. He's absorbed in his joy, and his classmates--and readers--become as enraptured as he is. Barnett and Berube bring mastery of craft as well as an understanding of human nature to offer a fresh take on a familiar theme.

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(2) K-3 Heading to the first day at a new school, this story's young narrator boards the bus looking glum and apprehensive. Typical concerns about different teachers and friends are quickly overshadowed by a more immediate problem: "I'm on the wrong bus! AUGHHH!!!" And that's not the only issue: this bus is filled with puppies instead of children, and the oblivious (human) driver drops everyone off at puppy school. The ridiculous canine twist addresses familiar new-kid/first-day anxieties and insecurities with humor and understanding. The narrator's remark that "everything about this school is strange and different" will resonate with anyone who's been in a similarly disorienting situation. ­Brockington's spirited cartoonlike art is in on the joke: there's the all-dog cast's speech bubbles ("Woof + Woof = ?"), dog food for lunch ("disgusting"), and a fire hydrant instead of a toilet in the bathroom stall. When things seem the most hopeless for our protagonist, a few friendly (furry) faces and recess help make puppy school more welcoming. "Maybe this school isn't so bad after all." And hopefully that's what young readers embarking on new adventures will carry with them. Also, make sure you're on the right bus.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2022

(2) 4-6 As his younger sister, Lola, loves to point out, twelve-year-old Arlo is afraid of everything. He has significant reasons to be anxious: his mother has just recovered from cancer; his father (divorced, with a new family) hardly seems to notice him and Lola; and now he, Lola, and their mom are stuck in a weird old-fashioned town after a car accident. Livermore is quaint, with a tiny schoolhouse and open hearths, but behind the vintage allure lies a sinister thread that Arlo picks up on right away. Why is there no cell service? Why don't the townsfolk use electricity? And why do they keep whispering behind closed doors? Arlo must convince Lola and Mom to leave Livermore before it's too late and they learn, perhaps fatally, what nameless horror the town had awakened over a century ago. Equal parts spooky and charming, the story offers plenty of suspense and relatable ties to real-world difficulties. Arlo, Lola, and Mom form a heartwarming triangle of familial loyalty and dogged optimism. Even if readers have worked out the mystery before the story's denouement, the promise of Arlo's growth into bravery will keep pages turning until the very end.

Reviewer: Sarah Berman | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2022

(2) 4-6 How does a family live with recurring cancer? Would you want to know if you had that same cancer gene? These questions anchor a powerful verse novel in which twelve-year-old Cass copes with her dad's serious illness and her mom's relentless positivity, and counts on best friend Jayla's steady support. Weaving together genetic research, homeschooling particularities, Christian religious beliefs, and baseball fundamentals, Hill's portrayal of Cass's daily life is full of detail. Her inner monologue drives the story forward; free-verse poetry in a variety of forms relies on Cass's clear first-person voice and creative spacing for effect. Cass grapples with the decision of whether to be tested for the gene. Does she want to know the worst (or best) or does she want to live her life in fear and worry about the unknown? Her situation raises existential questions in ways that are palpable and relevant. Hill delicately balances deep sadness with genuine hopefulness in this distinctive and compelling novel.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2023

(1) 1-3 Marisol, the anxious heroine of Maybe Maybe Marisol Rainey (rev. 5/21), makes lists of favorite and least favorite things, with gym class--specifically the kickball unit--topping the latter. Although she has never played before, she dreads it because she knows that "the spotlight shines on you when you kick. The spotlight shines on you when you pitch... Surely Marisol will burst into flames under all those spotlights." Her worries only grow as classmate Evie brags about her own kickball prowess. Kelly shows her deep understanding of the emotional lives of her characters. When Marisol is angry and embarrassed about Evie's unkind comments and her own poor skills, she lashes out at best friend Jada. "Marisol thought it would make her feel better to snap at Jada, but it doesn't. She only feels worse." The action takes place over two weeks, during which Marisol tries a variety of techniques to first avoid and then overcome (at least a little) her fears. ­Supporting characters--Marisol's father, away all week working on an oil rig; her athletic older brother, who teaches her the Ultimate Rule of Kickball; classmate Felix, who claims to talk to animals--are all fully developed and engaging contributors to the lively, realistic, and emotionally honest story. When ­Marisol finally kicks the ball and makes it to first base, readers will be cheering "way to go, Marisol" along with her classmates, teacher, and family members.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Lynn Munsinger. The author and illustrator of the hugely popular Tacky the Penguin series team up again for a book about Tacky's opposite: painfully shy Mousetta, who "never squoke a squeak." She is so shy that she walks backward to avoid meeting anyone. She scurries out of sight, she hides; she's ­nothing like the three "really popular" mice in her class who are "cool," "gorgeous," and "awesome." When Dr. Gladpaw advertises a workshop to "make you feel outgoing," she signs up and attends with a bucket on her head. To her surprise, three other mice show up with their heads covered up, too. Everyone is in peril when a group of foxes appears ("Foxes in the area! Run and take cover!"), and it is Mousetta who finds her voice and saves them all. Lester's comic timing is right on cue, and Munsinger's watercolors against bright white pages use lots of smaller panels to capture each moment of the story with humor and fun. This is a great read-aloud with lots of different opportunities for discussion.

Reviewer: Susan Dove Lempke | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2022

(2) 4-6 Illustrated by Molly Brooks. Color by Bex Glendining and Elise Schuenke. Rising sixth graders Katie and Kacey, both homeschooled during the year, head to summer camp. Though Katie loves being with her best friend, she frets about feeling homesick. She's also self-conscious about being "different," with her red hair, freckles, and crooked teeth. At camp, she makes a confident new friend who "cusses" ("Backstreet Boys suck"), and Kacey seethes with jealousy and drifts away. Back home, Katie begins engaging in compulsive behaviors in an effort to "pus­­h the buzzing thoughts [depicted as a bee that won't leave her alone] away." Katie's father, who eventually guides her to a professional, helps her understand that "our thoughts aren't us. They're just our thoughts." This sensitive, deeply felt graphic novel, divided into four seasons of the year, is one that will resonate with many readers, particularly those living with OCD. The story also captures in detail a realistic homeschooling experience, including stereotypes about it: "I didn't feel like the weirdo homeschooled kid when Kacey and I hung out." Katie ultimately finds joy in theater, undergoes a scary lingual frenectomy, and learns that "maybe I could have best friends and good friends. I didn't have to choose." Best of all, she learns that many people are hounded by worries, with Brooks depicting various creatures nagging others as Katie's bee nags her. Both author and illustrator share their own childhood OCD experiences in appended notes, with Ormsbee explaining that the story is a fictionalized version of her own youth.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2022

(2) PS Mira has lots of first days attempting new activities, but fear of failure prevents many second days. Take gymnastics, for example, a sport full of terrible what-if? scenarios for an anxious mind: "What if she fell? What if people laughed? What if she did it the wrong way?" Believing that everyone else is better or a "natural" talent, Mira never gives herself a chance; she accepts failure and thinks of herself as a "shadow" since she's not perfect. One day, all alone at the beach, she practices ­walking--and leaping--on a driftwood log, a makeshift balance beam. She falls but gets back up and tries again. After many more tries, "it wasn't perfect. But Mira did it." She may not be an expert, but she can still participate. Pencil, colored-pencil, and watercolor illustrations highlight the character's frustration and isolation from others. Mira appears against blue backgrounds, while pink-hued bubbles feature the activities from which she has isolated herself. The contrast between the front endpapers (stationary Mira, alone) and back ­endpapers (active Mira, part of a group) hints at growth to come. Give this book to perfectionists or to those who feel too anxious to try new things.

Reviewer: Julie Hakim Azzam | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(1) PS In a series of humorous vignettes, timid pup Murray is urged to overcome his reluctance to do things by an unseen narrator, his owner. "Why don't you want to go outside, Murray?" "Why don't you want to go to the barbecue, Murray?" Each time, the dog is lured by his owner's encouragement to give the proffered activity a go, only to experience a setback. For instance, at the park, he doesn't "want to say hello to this new dog" because he's afraid it will take away his toy. The narrator reassures him that the dog is nice, so Murray does engage with the newcomer--but then is knocked off his (four) feet by an overly exuberant "WOOF! WOOF!" Stein (Interrupting Chicken) skillfully uses repetition in text, page layout, and plot sequence to closely connect the day's incidents and to build humor and characterization (it helps with independent reading, too). Mixed-media illustrations tenderly capture our protagonist's personality and expressive eyes and body language. At bedtime, Murray is afraid to sleep because of potential nightmares. But his owner praises him for trying new experiences, calling him brave, and Murray happily nods off, dreaming not of monsters but of himself as a superhero. Children who recognize themselves in Murray will feel seen and, hopefully, empowered. A gem of a picture book, expertly crafted and oh-so-relatable.

Reviewer: Martha V. Parravano | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2022