Chomp! Stomp! Whomp! Dinah is a wide-eyed, speckled baby dinosaur who wants to try everything, but finesse is not her strong point. She has stubby legs, an eager smile, and a matchless set of jaws. When two tiny creatures kiss each other at Dinah’s feet, Dinah wants to try, too. Her first victim gets a bite on the rear, the next one is flattened by her big dinosaur stompers, and the third gets... eaten. “Whoops,” says Dinah. “Not good.” Only when another baby dinosaur appears does Dinah find a playmate whose life she won’t endanger. “What’s kiss?” the other dinosaur asks, and the two explore affection—rather violently. Stein (Ol’ Mama Squirrel) draws Dinah with a simple, cookie-cutter outline, but her stricken expressions and forthright pursuit of love are plenty complex. Dinah’s swampy world features a sulfurous yellow sky and pint-size volcanoes that explode quietly in the distance. Kids will plunge into the whomping and chomping with glee, and they’ll understand a hero who means to be careful, but who ends up stomping all over things anyway. Ages 2–5. Agent: Rebecca Sherman, Writers House. (Aug.)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

When six rabbits happen upon an enormous carrot, not even the sky is the limit, as Tone demonstrates in this visually inventive story first published in France. “What could they do with the very big carrot?” she asks, using repetition to take readers through each possibility. “Maybe they could make it into a boat... and say hello to all the fishes!” The rabbits’ carrot boat defies logic—and the laws of nature—as the giant orange root becomes not the vessel, but the sail; the rabbits clutch fishing poles while sitting atop the carrot’s fronts, which take the shape of a boat. Tiny though they are, Tone’s rabbits and their humorously synchronized movements command attention on each spread; with their Buddha-like white bodies, they resemble peeled pears. In one scene, as they contemplate turning the carrot into an airplane, they march upside down, walking on their ears as though they were legs. The ending isn’t too surprising—for a rabbit, there’s really only one thing to be done with a carrot, no matter how large—but getting there is a delight. Ages 2–6. (July)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

This is one of those sneaky stories that starts out slight and unsurprising but is over far too soon. Fox combines the power of repetition with a lead character—a cool babysitter named Skinny Doug—who acts as a Scheherazade of nursery rhymes. His two charges immediately imagine themselves as players or spectators in the familiar rhymes: sitting in a yellow roadster (with Skinny Doug in the driver’s seat), they watch the little piggy run down a hill saying, “Wee, wee, wee, wee,” all the way home. Both enthralled and sensing a way to delay bedtime, the kids demand repeat performances (“ ‘We love it! We love it!’ said Bonnie and Ben./ ‘How does it go? Will you say it again?’ ”), only to discover that Skinny Doug always has a new tale up his striped sleeve. Horacek, Fox’s collaborator on the Where Is the Green Sheep?, has again found a text ideal for her naïf watercolor and ink cartoons. The pictures’ visual directness and goofy playfulness capture the spirit of the timeless rhymes and the enviable relationship between the lanky storyteller and his adoring audience. Ages 3–5. (Aug.)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

Caterina is “a little brown bird with great big colorful thoughts.” An inveterate list-maker who hates surprises, the bespectacled bird carefully plans every detail of the first party she’s ever thrown. Though the minimal text edges on precious (“The invitations will be... inviting. The decorations will be... decorative. The appetizers will be... appetizing”), Kono’s mixed-media illustrations provide cheerful zip, spotlighting the hostess’s high spirits and energy as she and her younger brother break out craft supplies and cookbooks to prepare. On the day of the party, Caterina gets both an unwelcome surprise—rain washes out the decorations and food she’s carefully assembled outdoors—and a happy one: her friends arrive bearing a replacement feast, and they have a grand time cavorting in the mud. Kono (Grand-mother, Have the Angels Come?) incorporates bits of fabric, images of stamps and coins, paper pinwheels, and more into her collaged drawings, all in keeping with Caterina’s DIY ethos. Caterina sets a good example for kids who have trouble rolling with the punches when best-laid plans go awry. Ages 3–5. Agent: Elizabeth Harding, Curtis Brown. (July)

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Berger’s (Martha Doesn’t Share) sardonic riff on bad moods involves an unnamed narrator (Crankenstein’s parent, clearly) describing scenarios that turn an average boy into a drooling green monster. Berger’s writing is sharp and funny to begin with, and Santat’s (The Three Ninja Pigs) polished, klieg-lit spreads bring the energy over the top. “Have you seen Crankenstein?” the narrator starts innocently, as someone under the covers ignores the morning sun. “Oh, you would totally know if you had,” the narrator continues, as the quilt gets yanked away and the boy desperately shields himself against the light. “You would say, ‘Good morning!! How are you?’ Crankenstein would say, ‘Mehhrrrr!’ ” School mornings drive Crankenstein to his knees; icy Halloweens leave him shivering in his robot costume; melting popsicles and long lines drive him wild. Santat’s faux-airbrush style excels in capturing the beating rays of the sun and the eerie blue of the television screen. Not until Crankenstein meets a kindred spirit does his mood improve. Expect many re-read requests from Crankensteins who may (or may not) recognize themselves. Ages 3–6. Author’s agent: Brenda Bowen, Sanford J. Greenburger Associates. Illustrator’s agent: Jodi Reamer, Writers House. (Aug.)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

“The world is filled with faces waiting to be discovered,” writes Piven (My Best Friend Is as Sharp as a Pencil), the clown prince of animism. And if those faces aren’t instantly evident, Piven instructs children how to make them from things all around them, including produce, backyard detritus, hardware, and the kind of stuff found in every family’s odds and ends drawer (plastic whistle, toy car wheels). He offers inspiration and examples of emotions and states of being (goofy, scared, sleepy) as well as archetypes (mommy, daddy, monster), while implicitly encouraging readers to look beyond conventional circle-shaped faces with ones shaped like a teardrop or even a weird footprint. Each creation occupies a single page and is shown on vivid solid background to emphasize the shape and dimensionality of every contributing element. Piven wraps up with a “How to Make Faces” section that includes seven upbeat instructions applicable to just about any endeavor undertaken at any age, such as: “Watch for all the happy mistakes! Lots of good ideas will happen by chance. Be aware of them. Look out for them!” Ages 3–8. (Aug.)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

In a story first published in Australia, Reynolds and McKenzie take readers through the four seasons, as one friendship takes a temporary hiatus and another one is born. When Maddy and her family leave town for a year, she asks her best friend Ella to take care of her cat, Marmalade. Neither girl nor cat is excited about the arrangement: “Ella cried and Marmalade yowled as Maddy’s family car grew smaller and smaller in the distance.” (In one of many typographical flourishes, Reynolds’s text gets tinier as the car zooms off, autumn leaves swirling in its wake.) As the weather gets frostier, however, Ella and Marmalade’s relationship gradually warms up: one winter morning, Ella “woke up with warm feet” (Marmalade is seen curled at the foot of her patchwork comforter), and by spring and summer, they are enjoying the garden and the beach together. Reynolds’s prose is full of vivid sound effects and vocabulary that evoke the mood of each season, and McKenzie’s wiry and loose ink lines, splashed with bits of bright color, readily capture the characters’ emotional high and lows. Ages 4–6. (July)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

Becker develops concepts for film studios, and his wordless picture book debut reads like a cinematic tribute to Harold and the Purple Crayon. Drab sepia drawings introduce a lonely girl whose afternoon is jolted into life (and full color) when she uses a piece of red chalk to draw a door on her wall, walking through it into a lantern-lit forest with a winding river. Drawing a red boat, she drifts toward a breathtaking castle city whose gleaming turrets and domes promise adventure and intrigue. Yet she does not linger—she draws a hot-air balloon, takes to the air, and encounters a squadron of magnificent, steampunk-style airships manned by soldiers who have trapped a phoenix-like bird. Her release of the bird earns the ire of the airmen, the bird in turn rescues her, and a clever resolution leads the girl to a friend with his own magic chalk. Wonder mixes with longing as the myriad possibilities offered by Becker’s stunning settings dwarf what actually happens in the story. Readers will be both dazzled and spurred on imagined travels of their own. Ages 4–8. Agent: Linda Pratt, Wernick & Pratt. (Aug.)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink

Numbers and letters struggle for dominance of Boldt’s debut, which joins recent combative abecedaries like Z Is for Moose and A Is for Musk Ox. “Hello!” says an anthropomorphic blue numeral one, greeting readers with a smile. “I’m so glad you chose to read this book about Numbers!” Simultaneously, an orange “A” walks in from the other side of the spread. “Hi! I’m so happy you chose to read this book about Letters!” A giant “WHAT?!!” of disbelief follows, and the 1 and A use new arrivals—like a single green alligator—to support their claims. “That settles it then. Since there is 1 Alligator, this is a book about Numbers,” announces 1. “Did you hear what you just said?” responds A. “Alligator. That starts with the letter A.” Two bears arrive in three cars (with four dinosaurs), and chaos mounts as 13 monkeys in 14 neckties juggle 15 oranges, and so on. Boldt’s illustrations have a dimensional, painterly quality that recalls Adam Rex’s work, and the absurd scenarios, strong-willed personalities, and visual gags will have kids laughing from A to 26. Ages 4–8. Agent: Jennifer Rofé, Andrea Brown Literary Agency. (July)

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An annual family reunion brings together a passel of carefree cousins in this joyful pairing of Crum’s (Mine!) comically heroic verse with Catrow’s (Have Fun, Molly Lou Mellon) equally rollicking pictures. Crum writes in first-person plural, praising the children’s muddy, eager romping with language that wouldn’t be out of place describing a Viking celebration after a successful season of marauding. “Oh, we are rowdy ogres,” she writes. “We roar! We growl!/ We parade out back doors and leap over steps,/ rushing down to the secret grottoes of the creek.” Catrow revels in the swampy setting, as wide-eyed, gap-toothed, rubber-limbed kids bound through the reeds and muck, even persuading their grandparents to cool their toes in the green water (“We put our beastie arms around their squishy middles and squeeeeeze”). Crum goes far beyond a simple appreciation of picnic fare to celebrate life itself: “We pile our plates high—a beastie feast—/ pack tight together, and fidget,/ longing to plunge our sharp teeth/ into the sweet juiciness of the world.” A triumphant ode to family in all of its messy, quirky glory. Ages 4–8. (July)

Reviewed on 05/17/2013 | Details & Permalink