(1) PS Mina is a mouse, her nose always in a book, who lives "in her own little world where nothing ever bothered her." Her busy father brings home things he collects from the outside world, and one day he tells Mina that he has a big surprise. The page-turn reveals a massive cat, staring morosely at them. "It's a squirrel!" he declares. Forsythe's understated humor effectively conveys Mina's dilemma: when she can't sleep, her father tells her there's nothing to worry about, but looming over them both and taking up nearly every inch of their home is the cat, watching with narrowed eyes. They all manage to get along (and the cat gets a sweater!), but when a doctor visits the ailing pet--who has by now been joined by others--and names it as the feline it is, the cats pounce. (Not to worry.) Mina, much like the protagonist of Forsythe's Pokko and the Drum (rev. 1/20), is whip-smart and patiently suffers a well-intentioned but hapless parent. The illustrations are also reminiscent of Pokko with their velvety textures; palette of beautiful coppers, crimsons, and forest greens; and warm glow that emanates from nearly every spread. More, please, of Forsythe's richly imagined forest worlds.

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

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Amy Hevron. This informative and appealing nonfiction picture book gives young readers a detailed look at the tide-pool ecology of the Pacific Coast, the "astonishing world" of creatures that wait in seawater collected among rocks on the shore until the next high tide. The text begins before the title-page spread, as ocean waves slap onto the shore and then retreat; ­Fleming captures the ocean's movement with drama (the waves "CR-A-A-A-A-SH" and then "cr-e-e-e-e-p out"). After the water pools, mussels, snails, chitons, an octopus, and others wait patiently until the "pool is part of the sea once more." Just as the sea "brim[s] with life," the text is filled with vivid and descriptive action verbs: sea anemones "bloom," waves "sweep," the octopus "glides," a rock crab "scoots," and more. Fleming's expertly paced text rolls much like the "restless" wave on the shore; the repetition of "They wait" in the first half builds anticipation as the story slowly unfolds. Hevron's textured illustrations invite close inspection; her depiction of the animals when they return to the ocean is especially inviting as the undersea world fills with color and movement. Her shapes are simple; her compositions, unfussy. Ample back matter provides information on how these creatures survive the low tide.

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

(2) PS Illustrated by Barbara Chotiner. A seed grows into a dandelion and becomes a ball of seeds that scatter. In a book that relies on typographical creativity to relate information, text placement mimics what's happening in the story. On the opening spread, for instance, "a million silver raindrops... / falling, falling, falling... / hitting the sidewalk with a splash" takes the form of an active rainstorm. On the subsequent spread, the text about the post-storm rainbow is set in an arc shape, each line a different color. A sprout pops up in the city sidewalk, revealing the buttery-yellow petals of a dandelion. Soon, it's "a feathery / white ball of / seeds," which then sail on the wind and land far away in a green field. One dandelion survives to spread its seeds again. The book's playful visual imagery, which also includes various font colors, makes for an engaging read; the text not only forms concrete shapes but also conveys movement (the title's "moving words") and successfully communicates the scientific elements of the story (e.g., lines of text shaped like roots in the soil). Back matter provides more facts about these "tough" flowers and their life cycle.

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

(2) PS "We are wild. We are children of the forest," proclaims the story's narrator, an unnamed older sibling wearing a fern-colored hooded jacket and brown pants and carrying a (toy) bow and arrow--evoking both Peter Pan and Robin Hood. The younger sibling (known only as Sister), wearing a dress and cozy hat and sweater, blithely toddles behind. Though the illustrations make clear that the duo is exploring their own backyard, the text stays true to the narrator's sharply etched imagination. (When it says, "We find a pioneer cabin," for instance, the illustrations show the siblings approaching a shed where their father is taking a nap.) There's much humor in the older sibling's ­hyperbole and dramatic efforts to protect Sister. In the wild woods, the two encounter a mountain lion (a pet cat), a wild beast (the family dog), a scavenger woman (their mother, coming to check on them), and more. The adventure begins before sunset and continues into the evening; the warm yellows of the sky make way for cool blues and lavenders in Myers's thick, dense watercolors. Nighttime brings shadows, and the younger sibling breaks character to run after "Mama!" In the end, both explorers are safely asleep in bunk beds in the tame indoors. An ode to the natural world--and the abundant imagination of children.

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

(1) PS Illustrated by Chioma Ebinama. Young Emile, his dog at his side, frequents a field that is "wide and blue" and filled with flowers, bumblebees, and his favorite maple tree. Throughout the seasons, Emile talks to the field, asking if it misses things it doesn’t know, such as the sea, and marvels at what the field does know, such as the stars in a mesmerizing night sky. When he visits one winter day with his father, Emile expresses his dismay over having to share the field with others (i.e., a group of loud children, sledding). His father's response brings him comfort and ­purpose. With gentle rhythms, Young's verse captures the boy's observations with an emotional honesty (Emile wonders why the sledders didn't secure his "say-so" to visit); with an authenticity true to the impassioned feelings of ­children (Emile is described as being "in love" with the field); and with a tenderness that is touching but never ­saccharine. Ebinama brings this story of a Black boy having an immersive outdoor ­experience to life with delicate lines and lush and ­atmospheric watercolors; Emile in his puffy red coat, making a snow angel, is a reverent nod to Keats's Peter in The Snowy Day. The yellows, in ­particular, nearly glow in the form of flowers, bumblebees, and the golden hues of fall. What Emile learns from his father ("The field would not, could not be bought! or belong to anyone") is a satisfying conclusion to this exquisite story of one boy's unfettered delight in nature.

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

(2) K-3 This entertaining tale is a tribute to animal rescue shelters--and to literacy. The narrator is in the midst of an intense campaign to get a cat; we read that there have been 427 days of fervent pleas. The boy agrees to conditions--including a commitment to reading daily, even though reading is a challenge--and is allowed to choose a cat from the shelter. Max turns out to be aloof and troublesome. But just as the family is about to return this "negative" cat to the shelter, the narrator unlocks the key to Max's affection: reading to him. Later, the boy comes to the shelter to read to all the cats, and then his entire class does, too. The many eye-catching details in Blackall's fine-lined illustrations invite close inspection; for instance, readers will notice the narrator's mother sharing Wenzel's They All Saw a Cat at bedtime, and later Max becomes enthralled with Gág's Millions of Cats. Blackall expertly captures body language and extracts a lot of humor from the surly cat, especially when comparing him to the animated pet-owner: we see the child attempt to connect ("I tell him all my best jokes. He doesn't even smile"); the cat is shown with his back to readers, staring at the wall or rudely putting his tail in a stick of butter. As a result, it's immensely rewarding to see the connection that occurs when the boy starts to read (and to enjoy it!) and Max crawls closer to cuddle. A positive and satisfying tale.

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

(2) PS A child with numerous questions welcomes readers at the door of a stately, many-chimneyed mansion: will we help find the rumored ghosts in the house? Have we ever seen any? Do we know where to look? Viewers explore the house with the narrator, who peeks into rooms and closets; searches the library, a chimney, and the attic; and more. Jeffers features monochromatic images of rooms from architectural reference books and furniture catalogs, onto which he draws the narrator, who pops off the page with jade-colored skin and hair and in a dress with vivid chartreuse stripes. Readers turn translucent pages adorned with paintings of ghosts that reveal, on the next spread's verso, the location of the ghosts the narrator asks us to find: cue excited giggles as viewers spot specters near, but always hiding from, the narrator. The ghosts, depicted as white sheets with holes for eyes, are endearing and playful (gleefully jumping on the bed while the child looks under it), never too frightening or threatening to children, who are in control of the page-turns--and, therefore, of the ghost-sightings. Delightfully, we're also told that a collective noun for this group is "a fraid of ghosts."

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

(2) K-3 Two children sit inside a house near a shore, peering out the window. "Wonder walk?" asks one child. "Sure," the other responds. At the page-turn, the children are outdoors, and the wondering begins. As they explore, they pose a series of questions about what they see in nature, questions invoking metaphors and personification: "Is the sun the world's light bulb?" "Is fog the river's blanket?" "Are trees the sky's legs?" No answers are required; the wonderment alone sustains them. Archer's (Daniel's Good Day, rev. 7/19) collage illustrations, using tissue paper and patterned papers, burst forth with vibrant colors, beguiling textures, and boundless energy. The double-page spreads employ little white space (there's too much of the outdoors to revel in) yet are never too busy; Archer knows just where to direct viewers' eyes. A sense of movement propels the narrative: clouds float; fog blankets the river; ocean waves lap against the shore; and the wind swirls around the children's faces. Beautifully rendered--and wonderful in every way.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021

(2) K-3 Daisy, a quiet warthog, is named for her mother's favorite flower: "They seem plain, but when you look closer you see their beauty." Daisy knows a thing or two about finding beauty in what appears ordinary. Saddened by being called "Thistle," with her head hanging down, she finds a "magical world" of forgotten treasures. She collects these things--old teacups, buttons, empty jars, and the like--in her own hidden outdoor fort. When she finds objects in the woods that seem placed there just for her, she also makes a happy discovery--and a new friend. In a sunny, vivid palette dominated by green in nearly every shade, Bagley creates a detailed world of school-going forest creatures and myriad lovingly rendered discarded items. Readers will enjoy examining each object in Daisy's collection as they cheer her newly flowering friendship. With her yellow crossbody bag (for collecting) draped over her shoulder and her shy demeanor, Daisy is a memorable character. One for the misfits, this story is an ode to the art of paying attention and honoring and appreciating not just overlooked objects but also overlooked classmates for their "special beauty."

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2021

(2) PS Illustrated by Carson Ellis. A young man narrates a story looking back at his childhood. When as a small boy he asks his grandmother what love is, she takes him in her arms and suggests he find the answer out in the world. Setting off on foot, as captured in richly colored gouache illustrations by Ellis (The Shortest Day, rev. 11/19; In the Half Room, rev. 9/20), he queries those he meets along the way, including a fisherman, an actor, a carpenter, and a cat. Most of the declarations, depicted via Ellis's distinctive hand-lettering ("love is..."), confuse him. Love is a fish, says the fisherman. Love is applause, says the actor. The boy's responses are frequently blunt (fish are "slimy" and have "creepy eyes") and digressive: to the carpenter's analogy describing love as a house, he responds, "I'm not allowed to use hammers. Once I busted my thumb." These comments bring humor and a childlike authenticity to a topic often addressed with excessive sentimentality. Each time the boy is given an answer and rejects it, those he had queried sigh at him: "You do not understand." Time passes; the boy grows taller and older. It isn't until he arrives home--possessing some wisdom, and reunited with his grandmother (whom he lifts tenderly into his arms)--that he feels like he has found his answer. This moving, but never cloying, book--a specialty of author Barnett (Extra Yarn, rev. 1/12; A Polar Bear in the Snow, rev. 9/20)--will have children putting their inferencing skills to work to identify the theme in the various responses. Ellis's subtle details are gratifying--especially the grandmother's cozy pink house, the book's beating heart. Wholly lovable.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021

(2) PS This American picture-book debut from Italian illustrator Carozzi depicts an unlikely friendship between a goldfish and a mouse. They live in an elegant home of minimalist design in which the pets take precedence. When the household's cats become interested in the goldfish, living snugly inside its bowl, Mouse hatches a plan to trick them into sleep--and then sneaks the fish into the local river via a teacup, thereby releasing its dear friend from harm. The illustrations do the heavy lifting in this sparely worded volume; at one point, we read only that "Mouse had an idea," as we watch the action unfold. The addition of "It was a wild idea," "It was a bold idea," and "It was a brave idea" is followed by "But was it a good idea?" This is repeated toward the book's close as we watch intrepid Mouse put the rescue plan into action. The imaginative ways in which Mouse and Fish "play" together at the book's opening are delightful (expect giggles), and the thrilling escape is perfectly paced. Carozzi's graphite illustrations feature a subdued palette; the use of silhouettes, particularly when the cats first appear, enhances the book's delicious sense of mischief. An entertaining game of cat and mouse. And one lucky fish.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021

(1) PS Cooper brings readers the sweet tale of a cat and a dog, different as can be, illustrated in the same unfussy, ­minimalistic style as his Caldecott Honor–­winning Big Cat, Little Cat (rev. 3/17). The story kicks off in the morning, during which an unseen narrator talks to the pets, who are yin and yang opposites. Their short responses are printed next to each pet (italic type for the cat, roman type for the dog), the jaded cat responding with countless nos and the enthusiastic dog answering with every kind of yes. The question "Are you both excited for the day?" is met with an eager ­affirmative from the dog, while the cat responds, "Hmpff." Cooper's ­variations on the responses and the creative ways he ­captures the pets' personalities with loose-lined, gestural illustrations in warm watercolors propel the story. After they are shooed out of the house and told to "look out for each other," we are treated to four expansive and eloquent wordless spreads in which the two climb a nearby hill and, side by side, take in the exhilarating view of a lake and mountains. Dog lovers everywhere will recognize the sad "Nooooo" howled when it's time for the pets to come inside at day's end. Yes, indeed.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2021

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Woodrow White. Eggers, with input from students in a San Francisco Young Editors Project, captures an unusual visit from a child's grandmother in this imaginative adventure. The story is told from the point of view of the child, who has met his grandmother only once before. Dressed in a jacket that looks a lot like a jaguar's fur, the glam grandma gets on all fours and commands: "Let's be jaguars." The two venture outside and then, as we see in a double gatefold spread, into the woods. They explore outdoors with abandon, running across a lake, crossing a mountain, traversing the Himalayas, and more. Grandmother, as both human and jaguar, is a powerful and somewhat intimidating presence: at one point, as a jaguar, she eats a raw rabbit. Eggers spins phrases with an evocative beauty. They traverse the water "nimbly...like marbles on glass." Grandmother "laughed like great thunder and I laughed like lesser thunder." In his picture-book debut, painter White animates the pair's adventure in expansive, richly colored scenes that depict the murky, purple-hued shadows of the night, effectively establishing the book's mysterious, majestic tone. It all ends on a cryptic note: could his grandmother really be a jaguar? Either way, the peculiar journey is worth taking.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2021

(1) PS Illustrated by Jessixa Bagley. A child is the first in the house to wake up and ponders what to make of the day: "Maybe I will do whatever I want to do." In a nod to choose-your-own-adventure types of books, and perhaps even David Macaulay's classic Black and White (1990), subsequent spreads include four separate vignettes, representing the child's options and rendered via Bagley's (Daisy, rev. 4/21) expressive, detailed watercolors with ­pencil. Perhaps it's a good time to make breakfast, draw with crayons, ride a scooter, or garden. The vignettes first appear in separate circles, but then shift in size and shape as the child considers these options. Each is awash in its own color so that readers can easily follow with page-turns: the rose-colored series of images reveals the child's fantasies of an undisciplined life (eating marshmallows to excess); the yellow series showcases creative tendencies; the lavender one depicts a daredevil spirit; and the jade one shows success in overcoming fears without parents around as guides. There is understated humor in Fishman's (Power Up, rev. 3/19) text ("That was too many marshmallows" next to an illustration of feet dangling from a perch on the toilet); courage (sticking a tongue out at scary spiders); and fond nods to the parents ("I can always go back inside and find Mom if I'm scared"). What the child ultimately chooses to do, a heretofore unexplored fifth option, is a sweet surprise. An adventurous tribute to the imagination of children and a day's endless opportunities.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021

(1) PS Meet a house created out of simple forms and sturdy lines and nestled within a bordered square in a solid pastel blue space. The text ("A house") is placed on the page opposite the image, centered in abundant white space. As we turn pages, images and text alternate between recto and verso as the background colors shift. The house remains our focus throughout as elements around it change: we see the house in the morning, at night, with the sun, with the moon, in rain and snow, and more. Henkes uses the question-and-answer format to invite readers into the story ("Where are the puddles? Which one is biggest?"), and the questions prompt discussions about concepts such as shapes, the passage of time, ­counting, weather, colors, and size differences. When a family (complete with a dog and cat), rendered as simply shaped toy figurines, approaches and enters the house, it becomes a "home." While perfect for children at the very earliest stages of literacy, the book also works as a read-aloud to share with toddlers. Phrases and sentences are plainly constructed ("Where is the sun? Is it up?"), and illustrations and text work in concert to engage readers and listeners. The pacing and palette are gentle; the compositions are uncluttered and eye-catching; the style conveys Henkes's (2020 winner of the Children's Literature Legacy Award) signature elegance; and the ending will have children pondering precisely what makes a "house" a "home." Brilliant.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2021

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Hadley Hooper. In an inviting second-person, present-tense voice, Hopkinson (Butterflies Belong Here, rev. 1/21; We Must Not Forget, rev. 3/21) captures a writer's struggle to kick-start a narrative: "You arrive with a pencil or two" as well as "all the invisible things that make you...you." Hooper (Two Brothers, Four Hands, rev. 3/19; The Elephants Come Home, rev. 7/21) depicts a child who comes in from the snow to a cozy interior and promptly sits down at a table by the window to write--but nothing comes. Frustrated, the child falls prey to distractions (reading favorite books, chomping on cookies). Suddenly, from the window the child spots a chickadee, determinedly working to feed itself by plucking seeds from a feeder. The writer, feeling encouraged, understands that it's time to return to the empty page. Just as the bird patiently worked seed by seed, with great concentration, writers must start by focusing on merely "one word. And then another." Hooper's illustrations in a wintry palette of cool blues capture the child's lively facial expressions and ever-changing body language. In one striking spread, she brings readers an inverted view of the chickadee; it hangs upside down from the feeder, but we see it right-side up, so the image of the child watching from the window is flipped. Hopkinson's story about a story, which closes with a writing prompt (about a chickadee, no less) is genuinely inspiring, a tutorial on writer's block that never patronizes the child readers at whom it's aimed.

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

(1) K-3 In this collection of five connected short stories, clocking in at over ninety pages and composed solely of dialogue, Klassen introduces readers to a turtle, an armadillo, and a snake--all in hats, of course. And because this is a deeply strange set of stories, there is also an alien creature and the book title's meteor. As with I Want My Hat Back (rev. 11/11), font colors are assigned to each character, providing clues as to who is speaking. The first story is all about a close call; the second, saving face; the third, a fantastical creature from the future (a gigantic eyeball on six towering legs that can shoot fire from its pupil); the fourth, a failed attempt to appreciate beauty; and the fifth, hurt feelings. Klassen masterfully builds suspense, particularly in the first story: readers know that a massive rock is falling from the sky, while characters continually change (precarious) position on the page. (No worries: no animals were harmed in the making of this book, though the same can't be said for an orange flower and, eventually, the alien visitor.) Throughout, Klassen's characteristically deadpan humor refuses to patronize readers; he lets them in on the joke, as always, by putting them one step ahead of the protagonists. Smart, funny, and offbeat, this is quintessential Klassen.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2021

(2) PS Illustrated by Hyewon Yum. A little girl and her father take regular bike rides through their coastal town. The girl, seated snugly in the booster seat behind her father, pretends to be a bird, repeatedly crying "CA-CAW!" In return, she receives friendly responses from the people they pass, but one elderly woman, walking with determination, doesn't acknowledge the girl: "She does not wave. She does not smile." Her lack of response concerns and frightens the child, and her joyful bird cries fade. But one day she sees the woman in the park, talking quietly to the birds that surround her. Finally, the girl and woman greet one another with bird calls. "I am a bird again. CA-CAW!" declares the child. Yum (Saturday Is Swimming Day, rev. 7/18) brings viewers a bright, light-infused outdoor world in a palette of sunny yellows, warm greens, and the velvety blue of the ocean. Lim's plainspoken prose captures the perspective of a young child, especially in the dialogue ("Daddy, I don't like her") and, specifically, the fear the girl experiences and the way in which she recedes because of it. The connection she makes with the woman at story's close is a moment of exuberance. It's a tale that celebrates imagination; birds (the monochromatic drawings of graceful birds in flight on the endpapers are a highlight); and the value of getting past fears to discover that we all have more in common than we might think.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2021

(2) K-3 A contemplative and somewhat meditative series of "14 Questions for Humans" from French author-illustrator Majewski prompts child readers to ponder the planet we live on--and the consequences of our actions. Majewski attributes human feelings to our planet, ­asking readers if the Earth feels alive. Is it rested? Does it feel friendly? Does it feel love? Or could it also be lonely and/or hurt? Maybe it's tired, and maybe it feels "unheard." Each double-page spread features text on the verso and an accompanying illustration on the recto, art that suggests answers to the questions posed. Earth may feel sick, for instance, because of the ways in which we pollute it; here, Majewski depicts ships and industrial plants spewing exhaust from smokestacks. The illustrations that, midway through the book, hint at humans' destructive tendencies have a darkening palette, dimmer than the ones opening and closing the book, with their more verdant greens. All illustrations are delicately rendered acrylics on canvas; all creatures, including humans, are depicted as small, with the landscapes taking center stage. At book's close, Majewski directly addresses readers with "What do you want Earth to feel?"--a call to action to readers to safeguard our planet.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2021

(2) 1-3 After-School Superstars series. Illustrated by Grace Zong. Good-hearted Boogie Bass is in a third-grade sign language camp with friends, including his bestie Nolan, whom Boogie reveres, along with Nixie and Vera from the previous series entries. With one hearing and one Deaf teacher, Boogie and the other campers learn the basics of American Sign Language; briefly study its history; and even get a demonstration of ASL ABC stories from Deaf students at another school. Boogie is a well-rounded character; he is kind and conscientious and learns to not be so tough on himself ("Maybe the point of learning a new language wasn't to be perfect"), not to compare himself to others (especially Nolan), and to accept his own strengths. A lot of time at camp is spent on iconic signs (ones that look like what they represent), which can be typical for children first learning. But the book also captures the non-manual markers necessary for ASL--including facial expressions, at which Boogie excels--and a back-matter note provides more details about the language's complex grammar.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2021