Miss Rumphius

There are some kids’ book by high-falutin’ names that you read because everyone tells you to and you think, “This is so great! How witty, how ironic!” because everyone else is saying so. I won’t name names. Other books, you come across by chance, never heard of them before, try to forget them, and they just won’t let go of your soul. Maybe you read a book like this by chance at some other person’s house or a garage sale or some random place like that. You left the book there. You kept thinking about it. You came across it about a year later at the library and thought, “Hey, that’s the book I read at so-and-so’s house! What a coincidence!” You checked it out and read it again. You returned it. Again, it kept coming back to you. Later you saw a best-picture-book reading list and the book was on it. You thought, “Wow, so other people like this book, too! I’m not an idiot for thinking it’s awesome.” You checked it out again and returned it again. You found yourself thinking about it at odd times of day, and using its turns of phrase in conversation. Finally, you broke down and bought it from Amazon (or at your local bookshop, if you’re so lucky to have one). This is one way to recognize a truly profound, timeless book. And this is what happened to me with Miss Rumphius.

When Alice is little, she tells her grandfather that she wants to be just like him, and travel to far-off places and then come back to live by the sea. He says that is all well and good, but she must also do one thing to make the world a more beautiful place. “I did not yet know what that would be,” remembers Alice. The rest of the book tells her story, as she travels, comes home to live in an old white cottage overlooking the rocky sea, and finally figures out what her one thing would be. As the book ends, the cycle begins anew, with Alice’s grand-niece telling her great-aunt that she wants to be just like her—travel to far-off places, then come back to live by the sea. The elderly, frail, but still spunky Alice echoes her grandfather’s word of advice, and the book ends on a wistful, hopeful note: “But I do not yet know what that will be.” The story, the colors, the lupines—it’s all so wonderful. I always cry at the end of the book (I’m so predictable that my daughter watches my face to see how long I can hold it in). We need more Miss Rumphiuses in this world.

Otis and the Tornado

I remember the first time I read this book’s predecessor, Otis. I was in love. I read an interview with the author where he spoke about being visually inspired by Virginia Lee Burton (The Little House, Katy and the Big Snow, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel) and Robert Lawson (illustrator of Ferdinand), and that inspiration really shows. The pictures have an old-fashioned sepia-toned look, and the spreads are rich with scenes of gently rolling hills and trees (here, as in The Little House, it’s apple trees; in Ferdinand, of course, it’s a cork tree). The little tractor has more character and spunk than Katy or Mary Anne, and I guess it was no surprise that the popular picture book spawned a sequel. (This is what editors refer to as a “character-driven” book, one that will hopefully turn into a series and make lots of money! Think Olivia or Llama Llama. There’s now a third, too, which I haven’t read yet: Otis and the Puppy.)

This second one is just as much fun as the first, and equally dramatic. Here, the drama is of the natural variety: The farm animals must escape a dangerous tornado that appears on the horizon several pages in. As in the first book, friendship is the glue that holds the story together. The bull is a tough character and does not respond to Otis’s friendship overtures. Still, when the animals must flee the tornado and the bull is stuck in his pen, Otis bravely struggles to free him before the tornado hits.

I miss the many renditions of “putt puff puttedy chuff” from the first book, and would have liked the cutey-pie calf to have a bigger role, but let’s not be greedy; this is a perfectly enjoyable sequel.

Otis and the Tornado. By Loren Long. Penguin, 2011.

Peace Love and Cupcakes

Best thing about having worked at a magazine: Knowing so many successful authors! Seems more than a few women who start out on a masthead turn to writing books after some time. From my days at McCall’s magazine, my editor-in-chief, Sally Koslow, has written several juicy novels about the business; my friend and co-intern, Melissa Walker, has a slew of popular YA novels to her name (see her blog over on the right there); and now my former boss, Sheryl Berk, has an adorable middle grade series that she writes with her daughter. Although picture books are my first love, I’m falling fast for MG, so I thought I’d post about Sheryl’s book.

When Kylie Carson moved from Florida to Connecticut in the fourth grade, she didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to make friends. One girl in particular, Meredith, seems intent on making Kylie’s life miserable and keeping other girls from being friends with her, either. So when her teacher suggests she start a baking club as a way to show people who she really is, she reluctantly agrees. But how will she get members when she’s the resident outcast? Remembering how it feels to be laughed at, Kylie recruits three girls who are unpopular for other reasons—one is overweight, another is ultra shy, and the third has a learning disorder—and presto: She’s got a club! Before they know it, people are clamoring for their cupcakes and the club has turned into a full-fledged business. But will Meredith ever stop treating Kylie like a loser?

This first in a new series of middle grade girl novels is as sweet and satisfying as its titular confection. Peace Love and Cupcakes (The Cupcake Club) boasts features that will keep girls reading and coming back for more: a likeable, underdog protagonist (for reasons she’s unclear on, Kylie is the target of the school’s resident mean girl), a delicious motif (cupcakes), an exciting plot that carries the story along (the girls’ baking club turns into a successful business), a villain (see above), and even a green theme (they are trying to raise money for their school’s eco garden). Although the tension between sweet Kylie and her nemesis, Meredith, looms large and drives the denouement, and the messages (bullying is bad; being your own person is good) are worthy ones, the real fun is witnessing the clever girls get their baking business going, bumps and rough patches included.

Peace Love and Cupcakes (The Cupcake Club). By Sheryl and Carrie Berk. Sourcebooks/Jabberwocky, 2012.

To find more middle grade books, hop on over to my tween book blog: http://emmastweenbooks.wordpress.com/

Yoko Learns to Read

If all you know about Rosemary Wells is Max and Ruby, you need to take a look at Yoko Learns to Read. Here, Wells brings her unique illustrating skills to a new level, using mixed-media (she mentions Moda Fabrics in her acknowledgments) and incorporating Japanese motifs. As in many of her books, each page is a frame (she said once that she likes to think of her stories as a children’s world that we adults are being given the privilege of peeking into), and the picture inside is done with pastels in deep shades of blue, red, and orange, accented with cut paper and fabric. There is also lots of gold, which makes the page shimmer when you turn it this way and that. Really, it’s something special.

I chose this book because my own daughter will soon be learning to read. Here, Wells uses a common classroom situation (teasing and mean girl-itis) as a backdrop for her own crusade of teaching literacy. There’s also the issue of illiteracy (Yoko’s mother doesn’t know how to read in English) and immigration (Yoko and her mother are from Japan). There’s a lot going on here for a short picture book!

And as always, it’s done elegantly, not hamfistedly. Yoko’s teacher gives each child a paper leaf for each book she or he has read, and has them place it on the reading tree. But Yoko has only three books at home. When the other girls laugh at her, her mother brings her to the library. As they check out one book after another, Yoko slowly learns to recognize words–the title of the books, the words “Bus Stop” as they walk down the street, the word “Library” over the entrance. This is literacy: recognizing letters and words in the world around you. Before Yoko knows it, she takes on Olive and Sylvia when they tease, “I bet you can’t read my book!” At the end, Yoko’s mother asks shyly, “Do you think I could learn to read in English, too?” And Yoko teaches her the letter A. “That’s where we start.”

And that’s where it ends. At the beginning of a new adventure.

Yoko Learns to Read. By Rosemary Wells. Disney/Hyperion, 2012.

Go go grapes!

The follow-up to Rah, Rah, Radishes is here! It features the same rollicking rhythm as its predecessor:

“Rah, rah, raspberries!
Go, go, grapes!
Savor the flavors.
Find fruity shapes!
Blackberries. Blueberries.
Bag a bunch.
Strawberry season?
Let’s munch-a-munch!”

Super fun, no? Thanks to the sing-songy text paired with colorful photos that pop, it doesn’t matter if you’re a fruit fan or not (and most kids are); you’ll be cheering on tangelos and cactus, pomegranates and guavas after one reading.

Go, Go, Grapes! By April Pulley Sayre. Beach Lane Press/Simon & Schuster, 2012.

Two things I loooove

This week I found two books about things that are near and dear to my corny old heart: trees, and pie. (I know I’ve posted about trees before, but I think this is my first Pie Post.)

In We Planted a Tree, trees are planted and grow all over the world, from a Brooklyn backyard to the African savannah, by way of Japan and Paris. Everywhere, people smile and babies reach up to touch the leaves, and neighbors come together under the shady canopy. It could be sentimental, but it’s not–it’s beautiful and poetic. A refrain runs through the text (“We planted a tree, and it grew up…”) and the undefined first-person plural narrator (“we”) gives the whole thing an inclusive, we-are-the-world feel (and I mean that in a good way). “The sunshine went into the buds,” reads the narrative on the Paris page. “Everywhere it was pink, and we were dizzy with springtime.” Lovely! There’s an environmental bent to the text, too, as in, on the Africa page, “The tree kept the soil from blowing away–Now rainwater could stay in the earth. The soil became healthier because the tree was there, so we planted.” Engaging cartoonish drawings with a repeating cast of characters will keep kids looking eagerly as you read aloud. A wonderful, literary addition to all the new eco books out there.

Apple Pie ABC is one of those books that is so simple yet perfect that it will make you say, “Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of writing that?” A very funny story runs through the pages as they go from A to Z. A little black-and-white dog pines for the apple pie that has just come out of the oven. Will he be able to resist it? Or will he, well, pull the tablecloth off the table and devour the pie, punishment be damned? How does the author put this together? E is “Eager for it.” F is “Find a crumb of it.” G is “Get a taste for it.” H is “Have to get a lick of it.” You get the idea. The drawings are delightful retro-inspired prints in a limited palette of primary colors, and convey an amazing breadth of the dog’s (and his little girl owner’s) emotions. And the sky-high apple pie? Classic. What a wonderful take on the well-worn alphabet book!

We Planted a Tree. By Diane Muldrow. Illustrated by Bob Staake. Golden Books, 2010.
Apple Pie ABC. By Alison Murry. Orchard/Hachette, 2010.

Authors Day: Ashley Wolff, Susan Meyers, and succulents

A few weeks ago it was Authors Day at my son’s school, Jefferson Elementary in San Francisco. On this day, about ten local children’s book authors come to speak to the different grades. It’s a sacred event at our school–my mom, who was a teacher there for many years, still reminisces enthusiastically about illustrator Julie Downing, who started the program with the school librarian, and Ashley Wolff, who has always spoken to the K classes.

Both those authors came on down again this year. Ashley Wolff, of Miss Bindergarten fame, visited the K classes, reading a book and then drawing them a story live, right there in class, and I slipped in to watch. (I also love Ashley for the Stella and Roy books, which she writes as well as illustrates). Our school is right near Stow Lake, featured in the delightful story about the big sister-little-brother pair who race around the lake. The follow-up, Stella and Roy Go Camping, is a beautiful tribute to Yosemite.) Here’s yours truly with the wonderful Ms. Wolff herself: 

And Ashley drawing:

My son is in second grade, and he was visited by Susan Meyers. I just happen to adore one of Susan’s books, Bear in the Air, and reviewed it on this blog way back in the very beginning. (Check it out under the Animals section. The rhythm and rhyme are as good as it gets, the pictures are adorably vintage, and the story is exciting and poignant all at once.)

Here’s Susan Meyers reading her latest:

I volunteered to take care of thank you gifts for the ten authors, and because I am an incurable (but only somewhat skilled) DIY-er, I made the dubious decision to make them myself. I’m glad to say that unlike some of my overly ambitious projects, these succulent terrariums in Mason jars came out kinda nifty. (Big thanks to the salvage place in Bayview where I found the jars, the nice lady in Santa Rosa who sold me the succulents for next to nothing, and Pinterest!)

Books make good things happen.