a flash of color and light: a biography of dale chihuly

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, with an art history major mom, and as a result I visited a lot of museums and learned about Northwest artists. Dale Chihuly was arguably our most famous local living artist, so I saw a LOT of his glass installations. I have to say that as a younger child they were a bit lost on me – you couldn’t touch or play with them, and they were often mounted far away, or behind plexiglass. As an adult, I’m very proud of Chihuly’s glass, and I recognize it immediately, anywhere I see it around the world – thanks mom! When I saw that there was a picture book biography about Chihuly out from a Seattle publisher, I knew I had to take a look. Author Sharon Mentyka and illustrator Shelley Couvillion's nonfiction picture book A Flash of Color and Light: A Biography of Dale Chihuly is one of the most visually vibrant and beautiful picture books of the year.

 

The first-ever picture book biography of world-renowned glassmaker Dale Chihuly—with stunning watercolor illustrations that reveal the history of the art—for aspiring artists ages 5-9.

Travel along with Dale Chihuly on his life’s journey full of curiosity, discovery, teamwork, and perseverance as he overcomes challenges to become a glass artist of international acclaim.

Dale Chihuly’s early life presented many challenges, such as tragic losses in his family at a young age and an accident that left him blind in one eye, yet his resilience, hard work, and optimism taught him life-long skills that became inseparable from his body of work—incomparable glass creations that provide rich material for the book’s gorgeous illustrations.

In this picture book biography, Mentyka covers the formation, education, and career of Chihuly throughout several decades, and showcases his artistic evolution. She makes a case for Chihuly’s greatness by discussing his artworks, the school he co-founded, and his worldwide fame. However, as you’d expect in a book for children, there is a substantial focus on Chihuly’s younger years, family life, and his first attempts at art. Mentyka’s biography highlights three elements: an ordinary life broken by tragedy, Dale’s fascination with water, and his dedication to glass. In the final pages, Chihuly’s types of glass artworks are identified, a more in-depth biography and family photo from Dale’s childhood and a glassmaking glossary are included, and finally, there’s a timeline of Chihuly’s life events from 1941-2012. The story itself is basic, but the back matter will give young readers a strong starting point to understand one of America’s most talented craftsmen/artists. 

As an adult reading a picture book, I was impressed most by those final pages (after the story concludes), which went into further detail about Chihuly’s life and contribution to art. These pages also prompted me to read more on Chihuly’s own website, and look up photos of his artworks for reference. For children, this book’s art alone will undoubtedly inspire their own curiosity and creativity, but delving into the back matter (perhaps with an adult guide) in depth will prompt questions about art-making and Chihuly – it is that intriguing!

And that art – it is especially stunning and attention-grabbing, almost neon in its vibrancy. It feels as though artist Couvillion (who I didn’t realize was someone I followed on Instagram??) understood the assignment deeply, and dove right into a psychedelic rainbow of color. Her medium of watercolors and pens (that’s a guess on the last one) perfectly washes the sky, sea, and land, along with details of architecture and indoor interiors – but the star of her art are the renditions of glass. It’s there in a true kaleidoscope of brights – all bleeding one into the other in layers just like Chihuly’s glass does. In contrast, Couvillion’s figures are flat and slightly boxy, with textures (Chihuly’s curly hair looks like so many waves, or perhaps pasta!), stylized features (look at the hands!), and skillfull shadow and light work. The art alone is worth pouring over again and again and again. Bravo!

 

Note: One page mentions that Dale lived in an Israeli kibbutz for a few months and that it was a formative experience in his young adulthood. The kibbutz movement was and is a Zionist project. Dale himself is not Jewish. Given the state of the world, this is an authorial choice that deserves more context and interrogation.

 

In all, A Flash of Color and Light is a celebration of color, light, glass, and Dale Chihuly’s enormous contribution to the field of glassmaking and art.

Recommended for: young ones ages 4+ and the adults who read to them, those interested in picture books about art and biographies of artists, and anyone who appreciates absolutely gorgeous illustrations.

 

A Flash of Color and Light: A Biography of Dale Chihuly will be released by Little Bigfoot (Sasquatch Books) on October 15, 2024.

Fine print: I read an advanced digital copy of the text on Edelweiss. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

a witch's guide to fake dating a demon

In July I checked out a new bookstore near my summer spot in upstate NY. Perusing small town bookstores is one of my chosen summertime Hallmark movie-type activities, along with supporting volunteer firefighters at pancake breakfasts, going to outdoor concerts, and volunteering at the annual library book sale. I have a goal of racking up as many of these charming small town staples as possible for my own amusement. Alas, there was no bookstore meet-cute this time, but I ended up finding (and purchasing) Sarah Hawley’s A Witch's Guide to Fake Dating a Demon. Why this book? First, the main character’s name – Mariel Spark – is very close to one of my all-time favorite author’s names (Muriel Spark), second, it had fake dating in the title, and third, I always like to support an independent bookshop. Lucky me, it was a funny, witchy romance just right for a day or two of light reading, and perfect for this particular time of year.

Mariel Spark is prophesied to be the most powerful witch seen in centuries of the famed Spark family, but to the displeasure of her mother, she prefers baking to brewing potions and gardening to casting hexes. When a spell to summon flour goes very wrong, Mariel finds herself staring down a demon—one she inadvertently summoned for a soul bargain.

Ozroth the Ruthless is a legend among demons. Powerful and merciless, he drives hard bargains to collect mortal souls. But his reputation has suffered ever since a bargain went awry—if he can strike a bargain with Mariel, he will earn back his deadly reputation. Ozroth can’t leave Mariel’s side until they complete a bargain, which she refuses to do (turns out some humans are attached to their souls).
 
But the witch is funny. And curvy. And disgustingly yet endearingly cheerful. Becoming awkward roommates quickly escalates when Mariel, terrified to confess the inadvertent summoning to her mother, blurts out that she’s dating Ozroth. As Ozroth and Mariel struggle with their opposing goals and maintaining a fake relationship, real attraction blooms between them. But Ozroth has a limited amount of time to strike the deal, and if Mariel gives up her soul, she’ll lose all her emotions—including love—which will only spell disaster for them both.

The story opens with protagonist Mariel proving that she struggles with magic: she accidentally explodes a chicken in her kitchen. Mariel gets “simple” spells wrong all of the time, and is harassed about it by her self-important and -absorbed mother (the mothers in this story are THE WORST). Later when she tries to summon flour for a recipe, she instead accidentally calls a demon, Ozroth the Ruthless, to make a bargain. Two problems there: it was a mistake, and Mariel’s not interested in surrendering her soul for any of the things the demon may be offering. When her mother meets Ozroth (Oz for short), Mariel panics and says they are dating. Thus, a romance novel plot is born!

Character-wise, Mariel suffers from chronically low self-confidence due to unreasonable expectations placed on her by her family (there was a capital P prophecy at her birth!) and underperforming over the years. Her magic is nature-based, and only succeeds when she focuses where she has genuine interest (i.e. caring for plants and baking). Her loyal friends Calladia and Themmie join Oz in trying to build up her magical confidence and backbone with her toxic family, but Mariel must commit to that growth on her own. 

 

Oz, on the other hand, is looking for redemption. He used to be a cold, emotionless soul bargainer, but sometime in the past six months he accidentally got himself a human soul! He’s on thin ice in the demon realm and uncomfortable feeling things, so what better place to be stuck trying to set it all right than in the human realm with only the clothes on his back?! As Oz slowly adjusts his expectations, Mariel starts valuing herself, and various fake dating hijinks ensue. The romance itself is light, predictable, and features a fairly slow start (the characters kiss for the first time somewhere around page 170), but then takes off.  

There are two interesting things that set this book apart from the usual fare. First, although it is primarily a small town romance… this is a small town is set in an alternate universe where magic and magical creatures are accepted and commonplace, the demon plane exists, and there are different cultural rules throughout. For a full-on romance, it has one of the most well-developed fantastical settings I’ve ever seen. It is also a self-aware creature fic. By that I mean that there are lots of in-jokes and allusions to tropes that will resonate with folks who either read a lot of fantastical/paranormal romance or fanfiction. For instance, the main character knows about knotting, barbed genitalia, and so on, and there are funny asides and in-jokes, such as Oz liking pumpkin spice flavor ice cream best.

In all, this is a light, formulaic romance set in an interesting magical universe, with characters who must work through their pasts and toxic habits before they can commit to their happily ever after.

Recommended for: fans of small town and paranormal and fantasy romance, and anyone who is feeling witchy autumn vibes and wants to read a romance to enhance that feeling.

we're off to the forest

I have to admit that at my age, I’m a terribly picky picture book consumer. I want to see hand-drawn illustrations, or something that looks like it took time and an excess of skill to create. In other words, I am serious about picture book art being ART. After all, how am I to maintain my title of best book gifting auntie ever without a discerning eye? But seriously though – an artful book for children is a wonder, and I am constantly on the lookout for something that matches an aesthetic I can only articulate as “hard work slash art!” Katarína Macurová's forthcoming picture book We're Off to the Forest, translated by Andrew Oakland, met that vague criteria on the merits of its cover art, which hint at its forest-in-autumn theme, and illustrations full of color, depth, and texture. Here we are!

Autumn is here. The forest is awash with colour. Leaves flutter to the ground, where they rustle underfoot. It’s getting colder. The animals are preparing for winter. A daddy squirrel and his son go to the forest every day – for stores, and for something else. Shh … Do you hear that? A story is coming your way. A story tender and warm, about an ordinary, extraordinary forest, ordinary, extraordinary treasure within it, and how even little things can change the big, wide world.

A young squirrel is the narrator in this picture book, and they are excited to go with their father into the forest on their daily mission to look after their acorn. However, lots of animals in the forest like to eat acorns too – what makes this one special? This acorn was planted, and it is slowly turning into an oak tree! Katarína Macurová’s detailed illustrations, all in full autumnal color, span two pages each for a rich and varied forest landscape. The art alone makes this title worthy of many reads and re-reads.

We’re Off to the Forest is a quaint and beautifully illustrated picture book about a squirrel family at its core, but on a much larger scale it is a lesson on how forests are ecosystems that feed and shelter all of the animals within them. The “lesson” of the book will spark interest in how readers can care for the natural world in sustainable ways – and maybe they too can adopt an “acorn” in their corner of the world. The oak tree that the acorn came from in this story is 500 years old, and feeds many different animal families in the forest. Each of these animals are lovingly illustrated in bright colors, with lots of contrast (purples next to greens! oranges and yellows next to browns!) making for an attractive and engaging visual experience as well. I was particularly charmed by some cute touches, such as the little squirrel’s acorn cap hat, and the different sorts of mushrooms illustrated within the pages.

In all, We’re Off to the Forest is a delightful and short read to share before going on a nature walk, leaf-peeping trip, or acorn-collecting with young ones.

Recommended for: reading aloud to children ages 3-5, fans of Kate Messner’s Over and Under series, and anyone interested in sharing about the lifecycle of the forest in beautiful picture book form.

We're Off to the Forest will be published by Albatros on September 24, 2024.

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher (Albatros) at Picture Book Palooza. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

the first snow

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was reading picture books in preparation for the upcoming holidays… and now I am reading my first picture books of the year about wintertime! These things go hand in hand, but it makes me laugh a little bit since we’re still firmly in summer weather-wise. Marie Štumpfová and Radek Malý's wintry picture book The First Snow, translated by Mark Worthington, is a gorgeously-illustrated and meditative picture book, and its layered, screen printed art will delight readers young and not-so-young.

 

It’s common knowledge that there are many shades of snow. As is the fact that it is possible to find just about anything in it, from a lost glove to a careless arctic explorer.

Even though Stefan and Agnes come across something altogether different under the snow that morning, their journey through the dreamlike snow-covered landscape sometimes seems like an expedition to a frozen wilderness. Even so, they still find time to feed the birds and stroke the cat on the way. And even Miss Smilla would be delighted by the shades of snow in the illustrations.

 

Stefan and Agnes wake up one morning to a world blanketed in white. They venture out into the newly snowy landscape accompanied only by their tiger-fierce kitty, as their mother has chores to do. Once in the wintry wonderland of their backyard, they find that even common objects have been transformed by deep snow. They make snow angels, follow animal tracks, shovel the path, and then begin building… a polar bear! In a flight of imagination (or is it truly magic?) the children visit the frozen wilds atop the bear’s back before returning to their own backyard and continued surprises. 

In this picture book, siblings Agnes and Stefan experience that singular joy of a first snow day as a child, when everything seems impossibly wondrous under a blanket of new-fallen snow. Their whimsical adventures will feel familiar to adults, and spark children’s imaginations. The main characters take moments to marvel at the world around them, and this is reflected in the pacing of the book – it feels as though it should be lingered over as well, like a gorgeous view or any other nature-driven delight.

Worthington’s translation of Štumpfová and Malý’s prose is at times uneven. There are clunky choices of verb tense and contractions where full words might produce a more poetic effect. All that to say – the words don’t all flow perfectly, but small children will not mind this. I admit that as an English teacher, I am becoming more crotchety about words each year! Language choices to celebrate in The First Snow? Plentiful figurative elements in the form of metaphors and similes, such as “quiet as a lamb”, “like being in another world”, and “like winter-flavored ice cream.”

My quibbles with the text do not matter in the grand scheme of things because the art is transcendent! Štumpfová’s illustrations appear to be screen printed, in an array of pastels. The visual elements of this text are truly magnificent – of course there is a lot of white on each page, but all the different colors that snowy white can be – reflected blues, pinks, and even yellows, show up throughout the pages. The screen printing also adds subtle depth, textures, and patterns to the illustrations, and the many different forms that snow can take are the stars. I can’t emphasize how much I love the art – I’d snap up boxes of The First Snow-themed holiday cards and wrapping paper in a hot second!

In all, The First Snow features exquisite art and a story that both young ones and their adults will enjoy reading. It may even spark world-traveling polar bear adventures in backyards after the first snow of *this* season!

Recommended for: fans of seasonal picture books, young readers ages 3-6, and winter holiday gifting!

 

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher (Albatros) at Picture Book Palooza. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

ursula upside down

When I did a 2021 book gift guide for the holidays, Corey R. Tabor’s Mel Fell featured as a must-buy picture book. It was a huge hit that year with my niblings, and when I saw that Tabor had a new title out at School Library Journal’s Picture Book Palooza, I bought a copy immediately. Ursula Upside Down is another flipped-script picture book with tons of charm. Young fans will request many, many storytimes and rereads of this title in years to come!

Ursula is a happy catfish, swimming through a shimmering river with weeds waving above and a sky full of scrumptious bugs below. 

Then one question turns her world upside down. 

Is left right? Is right wrong? Which way even is up? 

Children will love turning the book upside down and back again as they follow Ursula’s humorous journey to self-discovery.

 

Ursula lives a happy life, swimming through her world. The river reeds wave from above and sunbeams light the world from below. Until one day… another fish asks her if she knows she’s upside down?? This prompts a chaotic awakening – Ursula had no idea that she was living life differently than anyone else! Luckily, Vern the bat swoops in to help before tragedy can strike, and with a little bit of wisdom, Ursula realizes that she’s just fine, and her reality is right side up after all. 

Interactive art makes for a fun reading experience for both kids and adults – and while I’d like to say that art is the absolute standout of this title, the standout element is EVERYTHING. Tabor’s picture books are a perfect marriage of text, gorgeous illustrations, innovation and creativity. Hilarious asides and character choices enrich the text, and make for a fun and funny experience (the bugs and crawfish! lol). The story’s point, aside from pure entertainment? That a different viewpoint isn’t wrong simply because it’s different – in fact, the world is full of those who view things differently, and that’s okay. A valuable and evergreen lesson for kiddos and adults alike!

Tabor’s illustrations are a mixture of watercolor, pencil, crayon, and other media mixed digitally. Ursula’s underwater world is full of a variety of creatures, each lovingly depicted, amid a wash of blue-green watery layers. Animal features, while simple, nonetheless express emotion when something unexpected happens. My favorite detail was how Ursula’s whiskers mirrored her mental state – they added drama as the story progressed.

In all, Ursula Upside Down is an illustration-forward picture book with moments of hilarity, lifesaving, and friend-making, and interactive elements that will invite repeat reads.

 

Recommended for: read alouds, bed times, and storytimes with young ones ages 3+, and as a phenomenal gift for any book-loving household.

the baker and the bard

This June one of our local bookstores, One More Page Books, offered Sur-PRIDE boxes – you could pay $25 or $50 for a personally curated surprise package featuring queer books, goodies, and chocolate. You could even share a little bit about yourself and your reading preferences to guide the booksellers in putting together the right box for you. It sounded really fun, so I ordered a box! Fern Haught's fantasy young adult graphic novel The Baker and the Bard was one of the books in my package – and I was glad to see it because I’d been eyeing the cover art for a few months on other bookstore visits. 

 

Juniper and Hadley have a good thing going in Larkspur, spending their respective days apprenticing at a little bakery and performing at the local inn. But when a stranger makes an unusual order at the bakery, the two friends (and Hadley’s pet snake, Fern) set out on a journey to forage the magical mushrooms needed to make the requested galette pastries.

Along the way, Juniper and Hadley stumble across a mystery too compelling to ignore: Something has been coming out of the woods at night and eating the local farmers' crops, leaving only a trail of glowy goo behind. Intent on finally going on an adventure that could fuel their bardic craft, Hadley tows Juniper into the woods to investigate.

What started as a simple errand to pick mushrooms soon turns into a thrilling quest to save some furry new friends—and their caretaker, a softspoken little fey named Thistle—who are in danger of losing their home.

The Baker and the Bard’s subtitle “A Cozy Fantasy Adventure” definitely lives up to its billing. This brief volume clocks in at just under 150 pages, and it follows baker June and bard Hadley as they go on a brief journey and solve a mystery to save the day (or really, find a rare ingredient to make some fancy pastries on time for a rich patron!). The world they live in is vaguely medieval, and contains all sorts of mythological creatures – June is a faun with pink hair, and Hadley a blue elf (?) with a snake sidekick named Fern. Their adventure is basic and easily solved – there are no bumps or snags in the road here – just some mild misunderstandings. The book as a whole is beautifully illustrated, but feels like the definition of “fantasy vibes” instead of a fully-fleshed out adventure.

That isn’t to say it isn’t gorgeous, or worthy – it just has more vibes than plot! Part of its appeal is that there is no conflict… but plenty of beautifully illustrated scenes with interesting landscapes, gorgeous clothes, colorful creatures and people, and of course tasty looking baked goods. As characters, June and Hadley’s motivations are fairly clear from the outset: June would like to start her own bakery and be with Hadley, and Hadley would like to go on an adventure, get to know her own queer identity a little bit better, and be with June. And the townspeople would like to find out what is destroying their crops, and… well, I won’t spoil that last bit. Readers will find a lot to like here if they don’t mind a bit of meandering and focus on the incredible art over text and plot.

Let’s talk about that art! Haught works with digital tools to paint a gorgeous, fantastical world filled with landscapes, meticulously-detailed tailoring, and bold color choices. Part of the “cozy” feel of the book comes from the art itself: its pastel-adjacent palette, the interplay of line art (which mimics colored pencil or crayon), coloring and shading style, and character design. The peaches, pinks, greens, blues, and purples *feel* magical, and dovetail nicely with the actual magic depicted in the book (such as snapping to give Hadley and Fern matching deerstalker hats as they investigate the local mystery). The visual art is what maintains interest in the book, and it is worth a read for that alone.

In all, The Baker and the Bard is a low-stakes fantasy with a mild and cozy aura. It can be read in one sitting, and would pair nicely with a cup of tea and a pastry of your choice.

Recommended for: fans of The Tea Dragon Society series by K. O’Neill, and anyone who likes the look of the cover art. Suitable for ages 9+!

bookie & cookie

We’ve reached the point in the year when I start reading picture books in earnest – because the holidays are coming! It feels ridiculous to type that sentence in AUGUST of all months, when school hasn’t even started up again yet, but it’s true. By the time December rolls around, the gifts must already be selected and ordered so that they arrive on time. I’m happy to report that Blanca Gómez's new picture book Bookie & Cookie is a strong contender to gift to the young ones in your life, or to check out from your local library. After all, it combines two of the best simple pleasures in life: books and baking cookies!

Even the best friendships have rough moments, but a true friend will always find a way to compromise (especially when cookies are involved!) – a scrumptious and clever read-aloud by the illustrator of Very Good Hats and Besos for Baby.

Bookie and Cookie are best friends. They love to spend time together, reading books and snacking on treats. But whenever this happens, it’s always at Cookie’s home . . . until the day when Bookie insists on getting together at his home instead. Cookie refuses: He doesn’t want to try something new. And now Bookie and Cookie are both alone, and the activities they used to enjoy together aren’t nearly as much fun. Can the two buddies each try something new for the sake of their friendship?

Bookie and Cookie are best friends, but they have an unconventional living situation. Bookie lives in the left-hand page of the book, and Cookie lives in the right-hand page. And when they hang out together, they are always in/on Cookie’s page. Bookie would like Cookie to come visit, but he refuses! He doesn’t like change. How will these best friends finally resolve their conflict? Page is synonymous with house in this delightfully-illustrated book about compromise and the power of friendship. It celebrates the delicious pairing of cookies and books while teaching gentle lessons about conflict-resolution, and the only thing that would make it more my speed is if it somehow worked in ice coffee as well, lol.

Gómez's text is the sort of metanarrative that is delightful to book lovers – the characters acknowledge the spatiality of the book! Vocabulary-wise, the text is simple and sparse enough for early readers, so the book will appeal in both the read-aloud era and into independent reading. It also has a few useful messages: that conflict hurts both parties, compromise is necessary to maintain meaningful friendships, and being afraid of change will keep you from a life full of adventures. Gómez conveys this message in fairly equal amounts of narration and dialogue between Bookie and Cookie. Parents and caregivers will laugh (or cry, depending on the day!) when reading the familiar interplay between the characters: “I don’t like what I don’t know.” “How can you know you don’t like it if you don’t try it?” “I don’t know, but I know it’s true.” And of course, young children may see themselves reflected in some of the stubborn resistance to flexibility that Cookie displays. There are kinder emotions discussed as well, such as gifting cookies, reading together, and eventually adventuring outside the book. 

The art is simple, with figures and furniture in a crayon box full of bright colors against a white background, which will appeal to the intended audience. Gómez's flat, rounded characters have nearly perfect circles for heads, distinctive hats, and a few straight lines indicating their hair. The geometric shapes and figures call to mind cut paper art, and the book’s delightful details (the book titles and cookie containers move around and correspond to what’s happening in the story) will invite commentary and rereads to check – are items changing and moving from one page to the next? These clever Easter eggs encourage interactivity and engagement.

In all, Bookie & Cookie is a brief and rainbow-bright picture book sure to delight book-loving adults and the young children they read to.

Recommended for: read alouds and independent reading, and anyone who appreciates a well-designed and artful picture book experience. 

 

Bookie & Cookie will release from Rocky Pond Books (Penguin Random House) on September 3, 2024. 

 

Fine print: I received a final copy of the text from the publisher. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

estranged

When I first read Ethan M. Aldridge's middle grade fantasy graphic novel Estranged, I jotted down a few disjointed notes and thought I’d post a review almost immediately. Several years later… I had to reread the book in order to interpret those scribblings. Ha! Ah well, it was time well-spent, because this middle grade fantasy is an engaging, inventive adventure with entwined main characters, has interesting things to say about society and family, and features an epic race to save the world.

Edmund and the Childe were swapped at birth. Now Edmund lives in secret as a changeling in the World Above, his fae powers hidden from his unsuspecting parents and his older sister, Alexis. The Childe lives among the fae in the World Below, where being a human makes him a curiosity at the royal palace.

But when the cruel sorceress Hawthorne seizes the throne, the Childe and Edmund must unite on a dangerous quest to save both worlds—even if they’re not sure which world they belong to.

Edmund is a fairy (or Fay, in this book) changeling. That means that his own parents, the rulers of the Fay court, switched him with a human child at birth, and that he has grown up with a human family he must constantly keep secrets from. The Human Childe, as he is called in the Fay court, doesn’t have a name – and has grown up stifled and dissatisfied by his life as a curiosity and a pet to his Fay “parents.” When the usurper Hawthorne leads a magical coup of the Fay court, The Human Childe knows he must escape – but to where? He decides to go find his counterpart in the human world, and thus kicks off an epic journey through both worlds, and a quest to defeat Hawthorne.

Hands down, my favorite thing about his book is the character design. Edmund and The Human Childe are mirrors of each other, but they differ in important ways too – Edmund feels constantly constrained, hiding his secret heritage, and The Human Childe feels like an afterthought without a family. When they meet, the Childe wants Edmund’s life, and Edmund refuses to give it up because his family is great. That family includes older sister Alexis, a brave and somewhat reckless older sibling, who is integral to the story later on. Other really cool characters: Whick, a golem in the shape of a lit candle, the witch and her apprentice Isaac, and Hawthorne’s henchmen, who have creepy hands covering each eye. Elements of traditional myth and legend are strewn throughout the narrative, but Aldridge plays with them in fascinating ways – this is both a beautiful book, and an exciting one.

Aldridge’s art is a mix of watercolors, ink, and Photoshop, and is most successful in its character design and fairy tale elements. The world below is drawn in meticulous detail – the reader’s eye will be drawn to the setting first (the Below is just plain cool!), and Aldridge’s style encourages this with lots of full-body shots and sequences, as well as landscapes. As a result, facial expressions and human faces are a secondary focus – there are not many closeups, and perspective angles do not change much over the course of the book. Illustrations are in full color, with lots of greens, blues, and an overall more menacing – and magical – feeling in the Below. Another interesting stylistic choice is using black gutters (the space in between panels) for the Below, and white for for the Above. This results in a very clear demarcation between settings when flipping through the book (and of course when reading it).

Estranged is a middle grade fantasy quest with themes of feeling like an outsider, even in your own family, the power of found families, and what it means to cultivate “human” traits. It’s an adventure and a half!

Recommended for: fans of changeling stories and portal or fairy fantasies, graphic novel readers ages 8+, and those who appreciate beautiful and detailed fantasy art.

author vs. illustrator

As someone who regularly reads illustrated books (graphic novels in most cases, but also picture books when I am looking to gift them to my niblings), I am fascinated by collaboration between authors and illustrators. Sometimes they are one and the same, but when they are not, I have questions about their dynamics – how much creative control does the author have? The illustrator? What makes a good artistic team… good? In their picture-book-with-comics sensibilities, Author vs. Illustrator, author Donald Lemke and illustrator Bob Lentz break the fourth wall and create a story on page with plenty of power struggles, changes of directions, and surprises to make readers of all ages laugh and understand more about the writing, creating, and bookmaking process. 

At the far reaches of Earth, high upon a mountaintop, a bustling city is under attack by a... cute little furball? Wait—what?! That’s not right. The author wrote this book about a “ferocious beast,” not a cuddly critter. Turns out, the book’s illustrator has other plans. Page by page, these clashing collaborators are writing (and drawing) themselves into the story for a full-on creator combat—a bookmaking BATTLE ROYALE! Can the author make a successful book with no pictures? Can the Illustrator tell a tale without words? (A picture is worth a thousand of them, he says.) Or will this dueling duo get on the same page at last to create the ultimate happy ending?

From Lemke & Lentz (the quirky collaborators behind Call of Doodie and Book-O-Beards) comes a laugh-out-loud picture book about the not-so-simple process of creating a picture book. Full of over-the-top humor and under-the-radar lessons—including the skills of teamwork, conflict resolution, and respect—this book is a must-have for young writers, budding artists, and lifelong book lovers.

 

In this picture book, the author and illustrator share the roles, choices, and process of a creative team. Using avatars of themselves, they show and tell through comic book dialogue how books are made: a process of trial and error, listening to each other, and making joint decisions. In the book-within-the-book that they are creating on page, Captain Sprinkle must defeat a legendary beast… but why is it so small and cute?! Miscommunications and creative choices filled with elementary grade humor (they give it jalapeño breath, the hero can shoot ice cream cannons, and so on) make for an engaging lesson in book-making and storytelling. 

The structure of this picture book is one of its most interesting features – the authors recreate themselves as comic characters in order to show how they go about making books. Their dialogue alternates as the author shares an idea, and then the illustrator pitches in with an innovative illustration of that snippet. As the process continues, it becomes clear that the illustrator and author have very different ideas of how the book should look, who has ultimate creative control, and how to work together successfully. While there’s not much deep characterization of the authors themselves, they hilariously demonstrate the process of creating dynamic stories and character design through their back-and-forth banter. The plot is simplistic enough for all ages to follow, though the dialogue includes advanced vocabulary that will appeal to older audiences.

This title offers a view into how books are made, but it’s not all smooth sailing. The main conflict is one familiar to anyone who has ever worked on a group project: a disagreement on roles and control. It is resolved by the characters sharing ideas gracefully and productively (but not before some shouted ALL CAPS words!). The lessons within the pages on healthy teamwork, collaboration, and resolving conflict will be welcome to all ages of creators or future-creators. As Lemke’s avatar says on page 36: “In a way, a book is a lot like a chili dog… When the parts come together, it’s totally worth the indigestion.” It’s meant for young readers, but I am tempted to use Author vs. Illustrator with my high school students to teach authorial choice as part of a unit on graphic novels. It’s definitely innovative!

Before we wrap up, the art! Lentz’s illustration style includes the aforementioned comic book avatars of the creators, including details like Lemke's dog and Lentz’s snacking, but otherwise their time on-page is mostly accompanied by white space and sparsely-traced suggestions of an office-type background. On the other hand, the “book” they are creating together gets the full color treatment. The step-by-step evolution of Captain Sprinkles’ and the beast’s character design is one of the most interesting visual aspects, and will make for a laugh or two as well. On the last page of the book, the creators include a brief collage of photos of some of their own inspiration, and how it ties into the creation of the book – a nice touch and teaching tool.

In all, Lemke and Lentz have created a picture book about making books – and as a dynamic duo have made it fun, funny, and interesting to boot. Author vs. Illustrator is silly, instructive, and honest – a great combination!

Recommended for: the early reader crowd (ages 6+), young readers who either love comics or may be interested in creating their own, and anyone fascinated by the creative interplay between authors and illustrators.

 

Donald Lemke and Bob Lentz's picture book Author vs. Illustrator will be out from Capstone Editions tomorrow, Thursday August 1, 2024. 

 

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher (Capstone) at Picture Book Palooza. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

under the whispering door

I love the idea of cozy fantasy. Like, genuinely love it – after all I am a snuggle-in-bed-with-a-book sort of person in my downtime (or during the summer, a reading-under-an-umbrella-while-sipping-on-seltzer sort of person). Reading books that match the vibe sound objectively wonderful. But. BUT! Sometimes, a book that has been billed as cozy does nothing for me. And unfortunately, that was the case with T.J. Klune's Under the Whispering Door. You may remember Klune as the author of hit fantasy The House in the Cerulean Sea. Or from several of his other books – he’s really hitting the fantasy mainstream these days. Unfortunately, after holding onto this book for three years (!!!) and making a good faith effort, it was a DNF (did not finish). I’m reviewing it anyway at the behest of my friend Huck, who said “Write a review anyway! People need permission to stop reading books!”

 

Welcome to Charon's Crossing.

The tea is hot, the scones are fresh, and the dead are just passing through.

When a reaper comes to collect Wallace from his own funeral, Wallace begins to suspect he might be dead.

And when Hugo, the owner of a peculiar tea shop, promises to help him cross over, Wallace decides he’s definitely dead.

But even in death he’s not ready to abandon the life he barely lived, so when Wallace is given one week to cross over, he sets about living a lifetime in seven days.

Hilarious, haunting, and kind, Under the Whispering Door is an uplifting story about a life spent at the office and a death spent building a home.

Wallace is dead, and whatever he expected of the afterlife, it wasn’t this: a newbie Reaper named Mei picking him up from his own funeral (at which no one cried – the indignity of it all!), a tea shop called Charon’s Crossing that serves as a halfway house for the dead before they move on, and the motley crew of characters inhabiting that place, including Hugo, the ferryman. All Wallace wants is to go back to his job… but obviously the universe, life, and death have other plans for him. 

Klune asks you to take a lot on faith at the start of his books: that the person with the miserable job will find redemption, that the world that has been described only piecemeal and the characters bantering back and forth about nonsense will be comprehensible, or at least charming in retrospect, that the fanciful architecture he describes will not collapse on the characters’ heads, and that protagonists with old man names will be successful love interests. In addition to all of this, in this book Klune is writing about the dead, and so you know the whole thing will feel, at times, either heart-rending or emotionally manipulative (or both!). Listen, I’m not saying I don’t believe everyone who raved about this book and its coziness, but I am saying it took a lot of doing to finally pick it up (three years of “ehhhh… not right now”) and to get past the first six chapters. Another week of waffling and reading an additional chapter or two at a time did not change my feelings, and so I finally put it down.

Let’s talk about what Klune does well first. His writing is objectively masterful. He has a deft way of describing the little indignities and discomforts of life, and interactions that make you want to cringe and close your eyes. It is pretty amazing actually! I’m not sure I’ve ever read characters that I could feel were so clearly miserable as Linus in The House in the Cerulean Sea and Wallace in this book. Relatedly, Klune’s characters have authentic inner voices. Finally, I really appreciate his dedication to writing romantic arcs for queer characters, and for depicting mental health struggles and disability within his stories. Visibility for both groups in art is important! 

Unfortunately, the *charm* of Klune’s previous book did not kick in quickly enough, or at all (I admit to skipping ahead to see if I would enjoy the leadup if the ending was satisfying enough, and it wasn’t). I found myself frustrated at characters talking through or at each other, rather than with each other. I kept thinking that not enough grace was offered between characters, for the sort of book this purported to be. The constant confusion/frustration/anger that Wallace is experiencing as the narrator really comes through – perhaps too well. Also, I have some knotted and complex beliefs about the afterlife in general (thanks, American religious upbringing!). I think I could feel in the three years I waited to pick up this book that it might not be for me for that reason, and it was weird to be proven right. So, it was not for me. 

That said, there were some objectively lovely passages in the book, and this one, from page 81, where Wallace is speaking at the start, stood out to me for its honesty: “‘I can’t grieve for myself.’ Hugo shook his head slowly. ‘Of course you can. We do it all the time, regardless of if we’re alive or not, over the small things and the big things. Everyone is a little bit sad all the time.’” 

In all, Under the Whispering Door attempts poignant, quirky charm in a story about second chances and what happens after death, and it doesn’t stick the landing. If you’re looking for cozy stories about eccentric tea shops, let me direct you to Becky Chambers’ novella A Psalm for the Wild-Built.

Recommended for: T.J. Klune completists, and those interested in contemporary fantasy with queer representation and found families.

mortal follies

It's been well over a year since I've posted a review here... but I'm back today to talk about a fun, slightly ridiculous, histori-magical romp of a romance: Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall! I really enjoyed Hall's breakout hit, the contemporary London-set Boyfriend Material several years ago, and so I've been eyeing his career ever since. The second book in this magical Regency series, the upcoming Confounding Oaths, had such a lovely cover and interesting summary that I immediately wanted to get caught up and read the first! And then of course, Mortal Follies, published a year ago in June, ALSO had an insanely beautiful book cover. End result: I ordered a copy even though I have literal stacks of other books on my summer reading list.  

It is the year 1814 and life for a young lady of good breeding has many difficulties. There are balls to attend, fashions to follow, marriages to consider and, of course, the tiny complication of existing in a world swarming with fairy spirits, interfering deities, and actual straight-up sorcerers.

Miss Maelys Mitchelmore finds her entry into high society hindered by an irritating curse. It begins innocuously enough with her dress slowly unmaking itself over the course of an evening at a high-profile ball, a scandal she narrowly manages to escape.

However, as the curse progresses to more fatal proportions, Miss Mitchelmore must seek out aid, even if it means mixing with undesirable company. And there are few less desirable than Lady Georgianna Landrake—a brooding, alluring young woman sardonically nicknamed “the Duke of Annadale”—who may or may not have murdered her own father and brothers to inherit their fortune. If one is to believe the gossip, she might be some kind of malign enchantress. Then again, a malign enchantress might be exactly what Miss Mitchelmore needs.

With the Duke’s help, Miss Mitchelmore delves into a world of angry gods and vindictive magic, keen to unmask the perpetrator of these otherworldly attacks. But Miss Mitchelmore’s reputation is not the only thing at risk in spending time with her new ally. For the rumoured witch has her own secrets that may prove dangerous to Miss Mitchelmore’s heart—not to mention her life.

The story opens with Miss Maelys Mitchelmore, a very earnest, innocent, and goodhearted young lady of nineteen, making the rounds of society in Bath. Along with her cousin, Mr. Caesar, and flighty heiress friend Ms. Bickle, the three are making good inroads into that society… until Miss Mitchelmore is suddenly stricken with a curse. When this curse makes her dress unravel into nothingness at a ball, the Duke of Annandale, a scandalous and scorned woman of twenty-four (the Duke moniker is mocking, since rumors say she killed all of her brothers and her father by sorcery to inherit) comes to her rescue, and is dangerously charming in Miss Mitchelmore’s direction… and a fascination (and story!) is born. 

 

The most interesting and unusual thing about Mortal Follies is the world in which it is set – one full of curses, magic, and gods both old and new living alongside science and logic – but with more equality and progressive viewpoints. It feels as if the author Hall said, what if I set a lesbian romance in an alternate magical Regency era, but I also decided to mend many wrongs, and made it altogether a more welcoming and wonderful place for LGBTQ+ characters? This choice, along with others (a sprinkling of archaic language, lighthearted dialogue between characters, and the constant intervention of the supernatural) result in a frothy confection of a tale – sweet, easy to consume, and a nice escape from the everyday.

 

Within the world of the book, Hall amuses himself (and a well-read audience, if they catch the references) with an allusion-rich text. There are mentions of stories and traditions from Greek mythology and fairy tale and myth throughout, and Hall also alludes to Jane Austen (Ms. Bickle “tinging” Mr. Willoughby & Mr. Wickham, for instance) and adapts an Arthur C. Clarke quote about magic and science at another point as well. These Easter eggs will delight many readers.

 

Much of the airy and entertaining feel of the book comes down to the mythic bits interwoven in the tale (for instance, Miss Bickle is constantly suggesting unusual and dangerous fairy exploits), but also through Hall’s use of language. This can be formal and archaic at times: words like apposite, pettifoggery, and more pop up, and Miss Bickle uses several neologisms (creating the word “ting” for instance, which is analogous to the modern verb “to ship” – to want characters to engage romantically). If you can’t tell already, Miss Bickle will be a favorite character. She is a constant source of comic relief, as she always has something nonsensical to suggest, in the most charming manner possible. A frustrating friend to have at times, but marvelously loyal to Miss Mitchelmore, who can use her support given the curse she suffers under.

 

Alternatively, the love interest, Lady Georgiana Landrake, the Duke of Annandale, is not very likable: she is sarcastic, mocking, and snide to start, but also moved to be a white knight in Maelys’ awful predicament. This push-pull of wanting Maelys and responding to her, but putting her off by acting meanly and protesting that she cannot have good things because she will poison or ruin them, or that Maelys is too young or doesn’t know what she wants, comes off as condescending and callous. Contrasted with Maelys’ virtues (a strong sense of fairness, patience with friends, etc.) and slow-blossoming awareness that she is perhaps not heterosexual after all, Georgiana’s feigned indifference and insistence on her own wickedness makes everyone both confused and miserable. While it conforms neatly to the trope of Byronic and brooding heroes in the Regency genre, it is somewhat derivative here – and the reader may find themselves wondering if Maelys might've found a better object for her affections if she had looked around a bit more. Hall’s skill in mending characters’ misunderstandings does make for a satisfying romance by the end, and the story neatly makes the point that even morally gray almost-villainesses deserve love.

 

There was one very annoying element that almost ended the reading experience before it could truly get underway: the conceit of a fairy sprite narrator (in this case, Robin Goodfellow). After the fifteenth time he turned into a candle flame, or a vapor, or a shadow to spy on the characters it became tedious. The mentions of little acts of chaos, the omniscient asides that Robin provided about gods and goddesses and their foibles, and the recurring mention of getting kicked out of the fairy Courts did nominally add more magic to the story – but their repetitive nature and the constant shift between perspectives was exasperating. Beware!

 

In all, Mortal Follies is a lighthearted mashup of Regency romance and fantasy, and enjoyable in almost all aspects. Hall’s confection of a world has surprising depth at times, and will appeal to fans of the ever-growing field of romantasy.

 

Recommended for: readers who like the sound of Regency romance + curses + lighthearted fun + sapphic awakenings, and anyone in the mood for a summery, allusion-rich fantasy set in a world that isn’t as cruel or prudish as ours was in 1814.