I just had a lot of fun reading OH, OLIVE! by Lian Cho and I want to share that with you.

So, I pre-ordered this book a few months ago. I saw the cover reveal and knew I wanted it. How could I not? Olive is a kid after my own heart. Our studio floors look the same.

I will often preorder books and then forget to read them. It’s ridiculous, I know, but usually by the time the book arrives, some new shiny object has caught my eye. Or maybe, in the time it took for the book to come out, the whole world has gone to hell. But today I was reminded that this book was waiting for me and I’m so happy I was.

Not least of all because there was a print inside the package. Whaaaat?

OH, OLIVE! is a joy. I love it. The book is very smartly put together but for me 99% of the charm comes from the main character’s face.

There’s something in the art that reminds me very distinctly of Satoshi Kitamura’s work.

Some of that is in the character’s proportions, but also in how the illustrations are staged. Like Kitamura, Cho’s use of panels reads so clearly and cleanly. I envy this.

The backgrounds in those two panels reminded me a lot of another favorite creator, Taro Gomi. I couldn’t find my copy of Gomi’s COCO CAN’T WAIT, which I think has some kind of similar horizon/skyline, but here’s the cover of MY FRIENDS that shows a little of what I’m talking about.

And there’s such a beautiful simplicity in the character’s design that Cho nails. But besides that simplicity, Olive’s design is just plain funny. Maybe that’s why Olive also reminded me of these kids that British editorial cartoonist Giles would draw.

I was obsessed with “Little Giles” and now I’m obsessed with Olive.

Oh, hey, check out the copyright page. I was oh-so-happy to see the media listed here… I think for the story to work, the illustrations had to be this analog.

It’s obvious, I think, that I’m a fan of the art but I also love the story. As the story reaches its climax and I reached this point in the illustrations, I actually said “Ohhhh no…” (or maybe it was “Ohhhh damn…”).

But I won’t spoil that. You can see for yourself. Go grab OH, OLIVE! It’s worth it, with or without the art print. I wrote this post after a single reading, I’m sure there’s way more to appreciate. In fact, if you have a copy of OLIVIA by Ian Falconer (which I don’t, surprisingly), I bet that’d make for a fun side-by-side review.

In closing, I LOVE THIS FACE!!!

I’ve been looking forward to reading THESE OLIVE TREES by Aya Ghanameh at least since this Twitter thread about the dearth of Palestinian books in children’s publishing (the post points to this article by Nora Lester Murad on the School Library Journal website). I’ve got the book in hand now and there’s a lot I like about it, particularly how the illustrations capture the texture of risograph printing, which, if you read my post on illustration styles through the decades, you know is one of my favorites.

I’m impressed, also, that the book ends on something of a hopeful note. You have the feeling that these olive trees, uprooted, bulldozed, displaced and otherwise destroyed, remain resilient and will survive as seeds. Or maybe that’s just me looking for hope.

My mind keeps going back to this short film, YEARBOOK by Bernardo Britto.

In this short, the main character is tasked with recording the entirety of human history on a single hard drive before its extinction. When the hard drive begins to run out of memory, he must decide which people and events get cut. This is a pessimistic take, and to be honest, an uncomfortable one as I offer it from the safety of my North American privilege, but I keep wondering when an author is faced with the genocide of their people, what makes it into the scant 32 pages and some hundred words that make up a picture book?

Author Astrid Kamalyan, Artsakh Armenian, tells the story of her people’s rug washing tradition in BÁBO. It’s a lovely book and I don’t think there’s a wasted line but there’s one right in the middle of the book that captures my imagination. “The hot air in the garden smells like simmering rose jam.” It feels like there’s something important in that image.

I’m not certain what I’m writing about here. I don’t know if I can read either of these books outside the context of genocide, and I don’t know if I even should try to. At the same time, I wish I could celebrate Palestinian and Armenian storytelling for their own sakes. I want to know if there are unicorns in Palestine and dragons in Armenia. I want to know if the poetry and humor of the authors’ writing matches the landscapes of their countries. (If that sounds selfish and indulgent, do know that what I’m really asking for is a world where this kind of selfish indulgence is allowed.)

Ultimately, if this is just about me and why I’m writing this barely-about-picture-books post, I feel a need to bear witness. YEARBOOK ends with the idea that on a cosmic scale all that really matters is the here and now. The here and now, presently, is terrible and I can hardly come to terms not only with the fact that I’m holding two books by two authors who are personally affected by current genocides but there are, in fact, other ongoing genocides happening in the world (Sudanese and Uyghur, to say nothing of indigenous tribes of the Amazon). Hope is hard right now, but I’m glad these books exist and I’m happy to support these authors and to carry some small part of their traditions so that their stories, like the olive seed, may yet survive.

ps: I know the names mentioned in YEARBOOK are heavily Western-centric. If you noticed that and are looking for a broader view of the history of our world, I recommend Bill Wurtz’s HISTORY OF THE ENTIRE WORLD, I GUESS.

pps – be sure to read that When Hope Is Hard article.

Art Director: I’m telling you, Maurice, we need to put the title on the cover!

Sendak: Go to hell.

AD: Okay, can we at least put it on the case?

Sendak: No.

I was listening to Fuse Eight and Kate’s latest podcast and pulled out my copy of DRUMMER HOFF (a highly recommended practice, reading along if you can) and think I saw a picture book-movie connection. General Border looks like a caricature of Charles Laughton.

I can generally spot caricatures and self-inserts in picture books but the intentionality of this one is harder to figure out. None of the other military personnel look like anyone. I’m guessing Emberley was drawing from memory, and was maybe influenced by cartoons where the Charles Laughton character made several cameos.

Suddenly I’m in the mood for hossenpfeffer.

I was burning my way through a pile of picture books trying to complete a challenge I set for myself at the start of the summer when I came across THE LISZTS by Kyo Maclear and Júlia Sardà. It reminded me that I meant to write about it on here.

When I watched Wes Anderson’s THE FRENCH DISPATCH last year one of my strongest impressions was that this was the most picture book-like movie I’d ever seen. That made me wonder what the most movie-like picture book is. THE LISZTS immediately to mind but now that I’m looking at it, I just think it’s the most Wes Anderson-like picture book. I mean…

It’s also got the LIFE AQUATIC soundtrack.

So, if THE LISZTS isn’t the most overall movie-like picture book, what is? I think some people might see a Jon Klassen connection in EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE, ALL AT ONCE. It’s there, for sure, but maybe only in the rock scene.

And I’m not sure the inverse is true.

What do you think? What picture books feel cinematic to you?

The book I was most looking forward to this year was Monica “ARE YOU A CHEESEBURGER?” Arnaldo’s MR. S.

Every bit of praise this book is getting is well deserved, but I’m feeling like all the attention is going to the big picture concept. Yes, the book is surprising and mind bending in all the best ways, and, yes, this might be the most real kindergarten in all of picture books, but I’m not sure anyone has written about just how good these kid characters are.

Monica Arnaldo’s work has always had a ton of appeal but these kids are next level. The kids (mostly) share a common silhouette, but each is so wonderfully distinct and distinctly wonderful. Look at these goobers!

And my favorite:

Skin, costume, expression, personality… there’s a masterclass covering those topics in this book. There’s also probably an essay concerning the tradition of drawing groups of kids in this way. I’m thinking of Mary Blair and her concept work for Disney’s IT’S A SMALL WORLD. Maybe another day.

For now, other ways this books is outstanding:

And then, of course, there’s the endpapers. But I’m not going to spoil that for you. Go out and buy this book. It’s incredible.