I found this Miss Nelson Is Missing! recap by Tocarra Elise and spent the rest of my morning watching her videos (TikTok: @TocarrasLibrary, IG: @TocarraElise).
They’re all so good, but her Chrysanthemum video might be my favorite.
Appreciation: @TocarrasLibrary Read More »
Following yesterday’s book haul, I was going to post an overview of the books I picked up but I realized I have unfinished business. You see, six, seven or ten years ago (I forget which), at the same book sale, I came across this Mother Goose collection.
I’m a sucker for old books but this one really grabbed my attention. It was the kind of book I always figured must have existed, but I had never seen. There was a time, actually, back when I was a fresh-faced youth, that I thought I might try this kind of a book, nursery rhymes retold with a multicultural cast of characters (I’d like to say I was wise enough to know cultural appropriation wasn’t a good thing, but in reality it was just another thing on the back-back-back burner). Here, though, at long last was the book I imagined.
So, usually in these situations I’ll look at the work and measure how well I think it achieved its goals and wonder what I, as the author and/or illustrator, would have done differently, but in this case I became obsessed with the book’s history. I found out the author, Elizabeth Murphy Oliver, and the illustrator, Thomas A. Stockett, were editor and editorial cartoonist (respectively) for the Baltimore Afro-American, which, according to Wikipedia, is the longest-running African-American family-owned newspaper in the US (established in 1892). I also learned that the first edition of this book was illustrated by Aaron Sopher, who, as you can probably tell from the first edition’s cover, wasn’t Black.
Why would I guess he’s not Black? In list form:
Sopher’s work is more than competent. The composition is sophisticated and successful and his colors work really well. His figural gesture drawing is very strong even in the more subtle characters (look at the two kids walking nonchalantly under the clothesline), and yet it feels more like an editorial cartoon than the illustration Stockett would do. These details in Stockett’s work are much more sympathetic.
Of note:
I wonder what discussions lead to the creation of the second edition? I mean, I can imagine, but I wonder how it went down. The question of who gets to tell whose stories has gotten more attention in our modern, more enlightened times, but I think the question of who gets to draw whose stories is still being figured out. It’s always been of interest to me that even at the height of the George Floyd protests/BLM movement, when Amanda Gorman’s poem CHANGE SINGS was set to picture book, her words were matched with illustrations by a white man. I wonder, with curiosity, not judgement or condemnation, what went into that decision.
Anyway, BLACK MOTHER GOOSE BOOK sparked in me an interest in Black stories produced outside of traditional publishing and I started keeping an eye out for these (usually) self-published books. I didn’t collect a huge number of them because a) someone else is probably a better curator of this history than I am and b) I soon realized there are a lot of interesting Black stories being produced outside (and within!) traditional publishing today. I’m going to spend the rest of this month sharing these. Happy BHM!
Black History Month Starts Today! Read More »
Yesterday was the American Library Association Youth Media Awards and, as happens every year, there was a stunning display of beautiful and important works by talented and intelligent human artists presented by enormously dedicated book people culminating in a celebration of those books deemed most significant, BUT, if I may, I’m going to talk about me for a minute.
SO THERE I WAS, at my desk, the ALAYMA livestream playing on my phone, wondering what I was going to blog about. Suddenly it was time for the Geisel Award, the prize given to the “author(s) and illustrator(s) of the most distinguished book for beginning readers published in English in the United States during the preceding year.” It’s the award for what’s commonly called “beginner books” (think Cat in the Hat), but somehow I always (erroneously) equated it to a humor award. I was wondering if maybe there should be a humor award and if it should be called “The Jim” and then suddenly I heard the announcer say “and the award goes to TOWED BY TOAD”.
I felt an immediate, intense thrill. This was a surprise to me, I’m active on social media in #kidlit circles (less and less as it gets harder and harder these days) and have gotten to know a lot of talented, intelligent, human artists but I’m more likely to call these people (wonderful as they are!) “fellow authors” or “kids book colleagues” than I am “friend” (parasocial relationships etc etc). Still, I doubt I’d have been any happier if I was in person at a banquet celebrating Jashar’s win. What I can say with certainty is that I really admire Jashar and I really, really like TOWED BY TOAD.
I had, actually, meant to throw out an appreciation for this book for a while, so here we are! Let’s dive in. First, the endpapers:
Of the seven elements of art (line, shape, form, color, space, texture, and value), Jashar’s ability to draft appealing shapes impresses me to no end, but TOAD really has me thinking about how well Jashar handles color. It’s so good. That yellow on the endpaper is just perfect.
Another perfect thing, the skunk’s face on this next page. Also, the skunk’s name.
There are also these small details in the book that are integrated so seamlessly into the illustrations. Like the transponder on this traffic light. It’s extra, but not superfluous. Does that make sense? I don’t know, I just really admire it.
I also admire this part with the powerlines above Toad’s repair shop. It’s a cacophony of cables but it reads so well.
And it’s not all style over substance. The part I might most admire in TOAD is this little detail at the beginning of the book. This little fly in the frying pan. I love how this open up a space for the reader to imagine what Toad has for breakfast. What do you serve with fried flies? Weevil waffles? Grapefruitfly?
Similarly, the various motorists all have stories you can imagine. The one I’m most intrigued by? The taxi cab duo. Behold:
If you ask me, the dog in the back seat looks more the “cabbie” type. He’s even got the cap. PLUS, he looks like he came out of GO, DOG, GO! So why is he in the backseat? The fox, meanwhile, looks like the male lead in a romantic comedy who is on his way to the airport to catch his lady love before she boards the plane for Tuscany but he’s hopelessly late. I could be taking this fiction too far, but the pictures do compel reading.
And speaking of reading, the text is friendly, inviting, reads as clearly as the pictures and carries a real sweet message. It’s honestly such a good book and I’m very happy it got recognized today.
Appreciation: Towed by Toad Read More »
I’ve written on here before about picture books fighting the good fight (These Books Kill Fascists) and equipping kids with imagination and hope (The Hungry Typewriter), but in light of yesterday’s inauguration, I want to dip in to this subject once again. This time, to say I really, really want #kidlit to step up to the challenges before us. After seeing the world’s richest asshole give a Nazi salute on stage, I was reminded of the time author-illustrator Ludwig Bemelmans found himself, unexpectedly, in the company of a group of Nazi officers.
“In an ashtray on our table was a cold cigar butt about the size and shape of a small mustache. I stuck it under my nose, rose to my feet with great effort, and gave the Nazi salute. I also made a short speech. I can’t remember what I said, but I screamed some words of encouragement in that hysterical tone, that falsetto pitch familiar to radio listeners all over the world.”
Bemelmans’ first instinct was to mock the Nazis. Sure, he got a beer stein thrown at his head…
and the next day he was arrested and had his passport confiscated, but you know what? He 100% did the right thing.
As creators for children, I think picture book authors and illustrators lean heavily into leading by example and saying things like “books about kindness and collaboration are more important than ever”. But if I’m honest, I don’t think this is enough. Kids books that work in allegory, stories of blue people and red people coming to work together, are unequal to the challenges of our time. I think there can be (and should be) stories about bullies getting their comeuppance. To practice, don’t clutch your pearls, clutch your pens in a fist of righteous outrage and let loose with your best one finger salute. Start writing stories where the villain is called out for what he is and where he literally eats shit.
Now, I said that, and I mean it, but I also want to point this out.
The story about the Nazis takes place in Bemelmans’ collection of essays titled I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU and I think this is a great framing. Love, kindness, and hope are our biggest and best weapons against hate. But there’s always room for calling out Nazis for the shit-eating chumps they are.
Listening to:
What Would Ludwig Do? Read More »
One of my favorite working cartoonists is Lucie Ebrey, who I first learned of via her daily comic diary Muggy Ebes. Her linework in that comic is fantastic, bold and full of a wild appeal. I think it can be easy to make things look good online but I got to see Lucie’s work in print for the first time at the 2019 Toronto Comics Art Festival where I scored a copy of Werewolf Social Club and holy mackerel…
Lucie is a tremendously talented inker. Check out the inscription:
That’s no mere doodle. It’s a perfect drawing, packed with texture and life. I love it. Clearly I’m a fan so it should be no surprise one of the books I looked forward to most last year was Lucie’s Cowgirls & Dinosaurs: Big Trouble in Little Spittle.
I love so much about this book, the character design:
Rootbeer, the faithful dinosaur companion (and the character names in general):
The (smeck) romance!
The villain’s rollercoaster of a redemption/non-redemption arc:
There’s so much good stuff in here. If I had any wish, it might be that the book was printed in the larger European BD format but at 284 pages, the story would probably have had to have been broken up into multiple volumes. Still, the “bio “about the cartoonist” page from inside the Werewolf zine gives us a hint at how good Lucie’s art looks full scale.
Maybe worth noting: the bio on that page says “Lucie Ebrey is a cartoonist living in Bristol”. Cowgirls & Dinosaurs has a lot of old West lingo and coming from a British cartoonist, the dialogue might be expected to sound like that scene at the end of A Fish Called Wanda where John Cleese mocks Kevin Kline, but it doesn’t. The writing is joyfully raucous but not gratuitously “Y’all better git if’n you know what’s good fer ya.”
Okay, one final appreciation. If Jeff Smith’s Bone is Walt Kelly’s Pogo meets Lord of the Rings, then Lucie Ebrey’s Cowgirls & Dinosaurs is Jack Kent’s King Aroo meets Thelma and Louise.
Oh yeah, the book is colored by Boya Sun and his work is excellent.
Appreciation: Cowgirls & Dinosaurs: Big Trouble in Little Spittle Read More »
My friend, writer Jess Yoon, posted this to Instagram yesterday.
Jess’ son is a whip-smart critic and despite the fact that I’ve been on the receiving end of one of his stinging appraisals, and that Jess herself is an excellent writer and good friend, I didn’t commiserate with her over this brutal take down of her Richard Scarry reading. Instead I replied to Jess’ post with a sassy “That’s not what’s funny about this page!”
My comment was, like most my comments, off the cuff but I know myself well enough to know that even my most random comments are based somewhere in truth. Thus, there must be a part of this scene (the climax of Richard Scarry’s automobile epic Cars and Trucks and Things That Go) that is funnier than all the others. Take a moment to appreciate this illustration, it is a Busytown tour de force. It’s simultaneously chaotic and perfectly balanced. It’s frenetic, but not frantic. And it’s funny.
I’ll tell you now that I’m not going to do one of those “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts” cop-outs. We’re digging in and finding what single element is funniest part of this picture. I’ve narrowed it down to a few key pieces. Let’s start with:
PIG VERSUS SYRUP
Near the center top of the pile-up we have a pig valiantly trying to re-cork his maple syrup tanker. The expression on the pig’s face is perfect and I like that he’s pushing with his hands and feet. Still, I think it would be funnier if he was jumping up and down. And the maple syrup itself looks to have the viscosity of molasses so that’s making me think the pig should be covered in the stuff. Also, what if the characters in the car beneath were holding out a stack of pancakes? Too many missed opportunities. 4/10
WE ARE THE EGGMEN, GOO GOO GA JOOB
It’s easy to take Scarry’s words for granted but the phrase “egg men” is wonderfully delightful. It’s fun to think about delivery people dropping off eggs by the dozen at doors around town, but we’re snapped out of that reverie by the text which veers swiftly into seatbelt safety. 5/10
CAUTION: FALLING TOMATO
This gag of the motorcycle cop being worried about a single tomato falling on his head when there is a multi-vehicle pile-up just a few feet ahead of him is very funny. It’s subtle, though, and I have to admit the only traffic enforcement personality I’m invested is Officer Flossie. 6/10
YES, WE HAVE NO BANANAS
Jess was right to center on a fountain of food being the foremost farce, but she might have focused on this banana geyser. Bananas are always funny and you can say the word in any number of funny ways. This element could have ranked higher, but its placement on the far left lets it get overshadowed by the rest of the scene. And I’m realizing now that if the falling tomato on the far right was a BANANA… hoo boy, this could’ve been the funniest gag on the page. As it is… 7/10
WE’RE GOING TO NEED A BIGGER TRUCK
Mistress Mouse has the perfect reaction to the scale of this accident. You pair this with the “It will probably take her a MILLION YEARS to fix everything” line at the top of the page and you have a solid 8/10.
WE’RE GOING TO NEED A BIGGER BAND-AID
Look at the size of that band-aid! 8.5/10
FLOSSIE TAKES FLIGHT
Flossie’s pursuit of Dingo Dog throughout this book has been consistently funny and her doing an Evel Knievel leap over this mountain of smashed trucks is exactly the climax this story deserves. Flossie’s expression (not to mention her hat) remains surprisingly impassive which is the joke, but I feel like wouldn’t have minded seeing a bit more fire in her eyes. That moment’s saved, rightfully, for the last page when Flossie finally catches up with Dingo but that sacrifice leaves this at 9/10.
Which brings us to…
…
The fact that I was just made aware I missed the joke entirely. You see, I was scrolling with the sound off and completely missed the audio Jess had added to her story.
Jess yelling “MUSTARRRRRRRD!” is a good 10/10 but her kids’ lukewarm reaction to it is an 11. My cluelessness and the fact that I wrote a whole dang post about this when I’m actually on deadline? Tragic. It’s not the slightest bit funny.
SMDH.
What’s So Funny About Mustard? Read More »
At the risk of stealing a bit from Fuse Eight, here’s two oddly similar books*, THE CAT WAY (October 8, 2024) and I KNOW HOW TO DRAW AN OWL (October 29, 2024). 2025 may be the year of the rhinoceros, but 2024 was apparently the year of the red flannel and black jeans clad nocturnal naturalist.
*superficially, anyway. Each story is beautiful and beautifully unique.
The Owl and the Pussycat Read More »
I picked up three outstandingly beautiful picture books at the Oakland Public Library’s Friends of the Library booksale for one dollar each, a terrific deal. Generally, I spend about five bucks on the old titles I pick up at my local used bookstore and somewhere between five and ten for the titles I buy off ThriftBooks on ebay but from time to time I’ll drop a bit more moolah on something special. Something like this:
Thurber is great but I really bought it for Simont, who’s art I absolutely love. Also, for the paper texture. Look.
The Wonderful O is the fifth of Thurber’s fairy tales. It’s been a while since I’ve read Many Moons (1943) and The Thirteen Clocks (1950) but I think this book has a thinner plot. It’s centered around a mysterious figure who bans all Os from the island nation of Ooroo. The citizens of R (as Ooroo comes to be known), need to fight back but the secret of their salvation is hidden in a missing word.
The islanders remember HOPE, they reclaim LOVE, they have VALOR. What do you suppose the fourth word is? The book is sixty-eight years old so I’m not worried about spoilers. Here’s the word:
If you asked me what my favorite animal was when I was a little kid, I would have said bear. No hesitation. I loved bears and even, up until I was three or four years old, believed I was one, calling myself “Baby Bear”. When I was a bit older, around ten years old, tigers were it. I thought they were beautiful and I loved the mythology of them being the only cat that liked water. There may have also been some decolonization of my imagination at play (bears were my favorite when I was living in California, tigers became my favorite when I moved to Jakarta).
At twelve years old, my family moved to Canada but beavers never became my favorite animal. Years later, however, moose would.
So, what’s my favorite animal now? It’s actually a little complicated. I answered this question for my students (when I was making videos for them during Covid) thus:
So, yeah, rhinos are up there. The fascination is recent, relatively speaking. I got most interested in them when I saw a The Dodo video about a baby rhino who befriended a kitten. That video made me realize that rhinos are much more like cows (in attitude) than they are the short-tempered, tank-bodied behemoths cartoons usually portray them as. They are interesting to look at and fun to draw.
You won’t be surprised, then, that I have a couple or rhino manuscripts. One of them is coming out in June of this year. How special! How specific! How singular! Right?
WRONG.
It turns out there are a LOT of rhino books coming out in 2025. Take a gander. We have Big Bike, Little Bike by Kellie DuBay Gillis and Jacob Souva.
Little Rhino Lost by Candy Gourlay and Jamie Bauza.
Never Take Your Rhino on a Plane by K.E. Lewis and Isabel Roxas
And, of course, Big Rhinoceros, Little Rhinoceros by me
Everything’s coming up rhinos! And I’m not sour that I’m sharing shelf space with these other books. The more rhinos, the better (a saying I would apply to Earth as well). I do find it surprising that rhinos are, apparently, 2025’s animal of choice. I remember hedgehogs being big, then octopuses, then sloths, then llamas. I don’t think I ever expected rhinos to make it there but I am thrilled that they have. It looks like my collection of books with “rhino” in their title is going to almost double in size!
Everything’s Coming Up Rhinos Read More »
