atana and the firebird

I can’t remember now how I heard about Vivian Zhou’s middle grade fantasy graphic novel Atana and the Firebird, but I was halfway to loving it by reading the title.Then I took a look at the cover art, and it was all over. Zhou’s cover is one of the most stunning I’ve seen – with beautiful color and a clear nod to its fantastical characters and setting. Luckily, the story inside the cover is an excellent adventure to match!

Atana’s island may be quiet and peaceful, but mostly, it’s lonely. With the outside world full of magic hunters who would stop at nothing to capture a mermaid like her, Atana has never been brave enough to swim far from her island’s shores and seek the answers to her mysterious past—until a firebird named Ren unexpectedly crashes into her life.

Ren’s arrival does not go unnoticed, as it has been hundreds of years since a firebird last landed on Earth. Determined to both protect Ren and finally chase the answers she’s longed for, Atana embarks on an adventure that takes her and the firebird to strange new islands and entangles them with the powerful yet secretive Witch Queen.

Generous though the Witch Queen’s offer of protection may be, an invitation to the Blue Palace can’t come without a price. And while the Palace’s splendid halls and library might hold the key to Atana’s past, will she be willing to pay the cost when it risks her chance of a bright new future?

Atana is a mermaid, but a strange one: she lives alone, on land, and is exiled from her people. It turns out that is because she is a subject of prophecy. The titular firebird, Ren, is adventurous and independent, and runs away from her flock to explore earth rather than watch it from afar (firebirds are from space, apparently). The two meet mid-ocean, Atana offers her services as a guide to libraries, palaces, and wherever Ren wants to go… and from there it’s action, action, action!!!

Atana and Ren are big-hearted heroines, but not everyone around them has such pure motivations. They meet Cosmos, a palace witch guard in training, who wants to find her sister, adults with murky motives, and are chased at multiple points by guards/pirates/etc. who use interesting magic-fuelled tech. Atana and Ren’s story is an exciting, travel-filled narrative with a bit of a twist, and the start of a fun adventure series, with a sprinkling of mythology and legend mixed in. It briefly explores ideas about belonging, personal autonomy, and friendship, but as a series-starter is focused on action over deep conversation in dialogue.

Zhou created her illustrations in Adobe Photoshop, and they do have that digital-drawn feel. Unfortunately, the bright, layered, and saturated art of the cover is a one-off – the book’s color palette is pastel with only a few pops of color. Most pages contain several small panels, so the narrative feels fast-paced and urgent. Only a few page spreads focus on landscape – the focus of the art is on figures/characters and their interactions with each other. While the art of course is central to the story, it is simple and a bit stark.

In all, Atana and the Firebird is a sweet and enjoyable fantasy adventure story for young readers, with hints of an interesting series to come. Its sequel, Atana and the Jade Mermaid, is next on my to-read list!

Recommended for: fans of Kate Wheeler's Goat Magic and Kat Leyh’s Snapdragon, and readers who are into adventurous and magical middle grade books.

soul machine

I try to keep on top of new graphic novel releases for two reasons. One, they are by far the most popular reads in my classroom library. My students gobble them up during choice reading time. Two, I personally love a good sci-fi or fantasy story, and some of the best new work in that genre is produced in graphic novel format. So when I found out about Jordana Globerman’s Soul Machine, I placed a pre-order. It didn’t hurt that it was during Barnes & Noble’s preorder sale, either!

Chloe and her older sister make souls by hand in an empty old house in the countryside. When their supply of breth—the raw material needed to make souls—runs dry, the evil MCorp tries to force them to franchise and make synthetic souls instead. Chloe sets out to the big city in hopes of finding a new source. And maybe a way to modernize their business that Lacey is so determined to keep in the past.

On a journey to find a real breth crop, untouched by MCorp’s greedy hands, Chloe uncovers long-buried family secrets—and starts to question whom to trust and what reality even is.

A beautifully rendered debut, Soul Machine is at once a metaphysical science-fiction story and a nuanced exploration of big ideas: spirituality, family, consciousness, and connection, but also unscrupulous consumption, megacorporations, and how egomaniac entrepreneurs impact our lives.

Soul Machine is the story of two sisters, Chloe and Lucy, trying to carry out their parents' wishes and rescue their dying family business (and failing). Their parents are dead or disappeared, and while younger sister Chloe is full of optimism about answers, and ready to charge out into the world to try and find a way to keep the business afloat, Lucy – who has been Chloe’s de facto parent – is more skeptical. They are insulated in the countryside, but in the city, MCorp reigns through monopoly and is promising an artificial counterpart to their family’s handmade product: souls. When Chloe reaches the city and encounters two very different women, she begins to doubt the story of her family that Lucy has always told her, and to doubt her way forward for the world. What will happen next?

My honest opinion is that this book was trying to be and do too many things, and so it succeeded at none of them. The story started with sisterly combativeness, which didn’t ring true from the very beginning – there wasn’t enough emotional depth evident (especially on Lucy’s side), and the dialogue was awkward before the sisters separated and the plot moved forward. Which leads me to my second issue: DIALOGUE in general. One of the ways dialogue was mishandled was in the character of Maya, the ever-present figurehead of MCorp, which seemingly controlled the consumer-based society. Maya as a figurehead seemed to embody physical perfection, a la the Kardashians, as well as a tech mogul position (think Mark Zuckerberg). She is meant to be a satirical caricature, which, fine. However, to signify her actual incompetence – in other words, to break down the stereotype of a creative genius founder – Maya uses slang. Words like “boo” and “okurr” pop up in her speech bubbles. This usage of AAVE (African American Vernacular English) in a narrative in which there are no major people of color is racially charged in a bad way.

Author-illustrator Globerman is also trying to set up a classist hippie (who wants to dictate who deserves a soul) vs. capitalist robber baron hate match. Given that the story is told from Chloe’s POV, and she has serious gaps in her understanding of the issues at hand, info-dumping is necessary, and for both sides it comes off at times as villain (or antihero) monologuing. The insubstantial feel of the “science” in the book and its lack of emotional heart combine with the above and muddle the message overall. The attempt is ambitious, and I applaud it – we need more young adult and middle grade books that delve into the “big” problems of society. However, I don’t think it coheres in Soul Machine.

My one major love in this book = the illustrations. Globerman’s art, with distinctive inking and panels colored mostly in shades of either pink or blue, are beautiful, interesting, and add depth. The book is worth rifling through for the art alone. I will certainly be keeping my eye out for Globerman’s work in the future.

While this satirical and metaphysical young adult graphic novel did not work for me, some will enjoy its engrossing art, and its attempt to tackle major societal issues.

Recommended for: fans of graphic novel art, ambitious science fiction ideas, and satire.

goat magic

Kate Wheeler is a familiar artist – I’ve been following her adventures on Instagram for years. So I was very excited to see her publicize her debut middle grade fantasy graphic novel. One of my favorite genres, from an author I know I like? Bless. I read it right away and loved it. Goat Magic is out today from Oni Press!

Trill, a spirited goat herder with a unique ability to communicate with her flock, yearns for a life beyond mountain pastures. Her “goat magic” feels common compared to the sorcery taught in the city’s prestigious magic schools, which are off-limits to her. Meanwhile, Princess Alya, known as the “Ordinary Princess” and heir to the kingdom of Capeya, doubts her own royal potential.

Their worlds collide when an assassination attempt on the queen leaves Alya cursed to transform into a black goat each sunrise. Seeking refuge in Trill's goat herd, Alya discovers her new friend's hidden talent is her only hope to break the spell. Together, they embark on a perilous journey back to the castle, facing treacherous foes and uncovering a web of betrayal and rebellion.

As Alya battles to reclaim her throne and restore order to Capeya, the girls discover a deep connection, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable bond. When Alya comes face to face with the ones who betrayed her, will she have what it takes to take back the crown and rule an unstable kingdom? Will Trill find confidence in her magic and the growing affection she has for her friend?

With fast-paced action, enchanting magic, and a budding romance, Goat Magic is a captivating graphic novel perfect for fans of fantasy adventure.

 

Goat Magic opens on the humble farm where Trill and her mother keep a herd of goats. They live out in the Faces, a remote, magical part of the country where the rock formations look like ancient gods have been frozen in rest. Trill is off to the market by herself for the first time – a bit (adult!) step. At the same time, there is unrest within the royal family, as the heir to the throne, Alya, doesn’t have any magical abilities, and hence has been dubbed “The Ordinary Princess.” On a diplomatic trip, Alya’s mother, the Queen of Capeya, is attacked, and Alya herself is cursed – she becomes a goat during daylight hours and reverts to human form by the light of the moon. You can probably imagine what happens next: Alya meets Trill, observes her unique goat-herding magic firsthand, and has lots of her beliefs challenged by the experience. In addition, first love is in the air…

Wheeler says in the afterward and on social media that she was inspired by classic fantasy adventures from her childhood reading. It shows – mostly in good ways. The plot is a bit formulaic (think the hero’s journey), but the magic and world building feel refreshingly unique. Wheeler also includes very satisfying details about food, myths, and familial relationships – the things that round out and flesh out any culture or story and make them more believable. And lest I forget to mention them, the adorable goat characters also each have their own personalities and foibles.

The vibe of the book overall is The Witcher-meets-Studio Ghibli, and I know it will be a huge hit with the 9-12-year-old set as well as an older crowd. Wheeler’s art and “style” remind me quite a bit of the excellent Kay O’Neill (The Tea Dragon Society and The Moth Keeper) and Wendy Xu (Tidesong) – with good use of color, lovely landscapes, and expressive character faces.

In all, Goat Magic is a fantasy mystery wrapped in an adventure. It has notes of The Well (journey to remove a mysterious curse, budding sapphic romance) and classic fairy tale The Goose Girl (transformation tale). It's a quick, satisfying adventure into a novel world. I would love to read more adventures set in Capeya, or whatever Wheeler has up next!

Recommended for: fantasy readers ages 9 and up, and anyone interested in fantastic worldbuilding and fun and energetic graphic novel art!

 

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher for review consideration. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

poetry comics

It is often surprising to me what is popular in my classroom library. I have some idea of what might be of interest to my high school students (of course!) and I supply those books whenever my budget allows. I picked up Grant Snider's graphic novel Poetry Comics on a whim at an ALA convention, and given its intended audience–much younger readers–I didn’t think it would resonate, but I put it on the shelf anyway. Imagine my shock when it turned out to be a choice reading time sleeper hit! After seeing several students pick it up, I decided to take a closer look myself, and I can see why it was (is!) in demand.

 

Combining poetry and comics in a whole new way, this fun and imaginative book is perfect for poetry lovers and reluctant readers alike.

From the cloud-gazing hours of early spring to the lost bicycles of late autumn, Grant Snider’s brilliantly illustrated Poetry Comics will take you climbing, floating, swimming, and tumbling through all the year’s ups, downs, and in-betweens. He proves that absolutely everything, momentous or minuscule, is worthy of attention, whether snail shells, building blocks, the lamented late bus, or the rare joy of unscuffed shoes. These poems explore everything you never thought to write a poem about, and they’re so fun to read you’ll want to write one yourself. Not to worry, there’s a poem for that, too!

Poetry Comics is just what it sounds like: a book of comics but also a poetry anthology. Each page, or each couple of pages, consist of poem(s) told panel by panel, in integrated, illustrated format. As one might guess from the cover illustration, the poems focus on nature, following the structure of the seasons, with some variation and tangents to take on the art of poem-writing itself, identity, and even things like waiting for a late bus. The compilation, while meant for young readers in the 7-12 age range, will also be of interest to aspiring comics artists and writers of all ages.

Snider’s art is simplistic, with basic 2D figures and landscapes, and a focus on the sky and horizon. Primary colors, fairly literal interpretations of each poem, and two “characters” (a boy and a girl) dominate the panels when nature and the natural world does not take center stage. Snider also makes interesting use of panels and the gutter–the white space around panels–on each page.

As far as the poems themselves, Snider’s key features are alliteration, repetition, lists (catalog), and of course the aforementioned organization around seasons and seasonal changes. My favorite poems in the book are “How to Write a Poem” numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4. Ah! Can’t forget to mention the structure of Snider’s poems too: a lack of commas, sparse periods and end stops, and very short poems overall. Each poem stands alone: some merely a single line, others still short but spreading over two pages. They don’t have to be read in any particular order either. Beyond that, the most stand-out thing about them is their clever titling, which amused me most.

According to the notes in the book, Snider’s illustrations are done in pen and marker, and reedited in Photoshop. The balance in the book definitely leans to image over text, which, while pleasing to the eye, does not grant a huge amount of depth, since those images themselves are also fairly simplistic. A note: they contain no evidence of phones or digital life, and in that way feel timeless.

Overall, Poetry Comics is a decent collection of poems and art for young people that may inspire adventures and a couple of reflective, poignant moments.

Recommended for: readers ages 7+, and read alouds with younger children to foster reflection and contemplation.

 

Fine print: I picked up an advanced copy of this title for review consideration at an ALA conference. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

grace needs space!

Art is so powerful – in the present, in memory, and as a part of literature. While I had seen Rii Abrego’s work before (I reviewed Abrego and Joe Whitt’s The Sprite and the Gardener here on the blog!), I wasn’t following her other projects. However, I knew I recognized her art style from somewhere when I found it at SPX (Small Press Expo, an indie comics conference held each fall in Bethesda, Maryland), where author Benjamin A. Wilgus was tabling. I asked a question or two, and was sold immediately on their collaboration: middle grade science fiction graphic novel Grace Needs Space!

 

Grace is SO EXCITED to fly a freighter from her home space station (and away from her BORING mother Evelyn) to a faraway moon! Plus, she'll get some quality time with her FUN mom Kendra--something Grace definitely needs. Finally, a real adventure that Grace can get excited about while the rest of her space station friends go away for their summer vacations.

But when Kendra is too focused on work, Grace's first big trip suddenly becomes kind of lonely. Grace had so many plans for fun. But all it takes is one quick decision to explore the moon by herself before Grace's adventure suddenly becomes not so out of this world at all. With her mom mad at her, Grace wants nothing more than to return home. Then their ship breaks down. Will Grace be able to get through to her mom and save their trip in the end?

Grace is a space-obsessed tween who has been begging to go on a trip with her Ba, a traveller between space stations. To Grace, her Ba lives a life full of mysterious glamour. She, on the other hand, lives a “boring,” stationary life with her other mother, the chief engineer on a space station, and is super excited for a taste of travel and planetary adventure. She’s been anticipating their trip to Titan for so long and built it up in her head… (you can see where this is going). The reality ends up being both more and less exciting than her expectations, in unanticipated ways.

Grace Needs Space! speaks to a lot of universal ideas and themes: growing independence and developing identity, the juxtaposition of curiosity with physical limits, and parents (and adults in general) letting kids down. Wilgus’ story includes one of the most nuanced portrayals of divorced parents that I’ve ever seen in a middle grade book, with believable tension, interactions, and an open-ended conclusion.

Grace is beyond excited for a fun trip with her Ba, Kendra, and instead learns quickly that it is a no-nonsense work trip for her parent. This letdown is the first of several, and while her messages back home to her mother are cheery, the experience isn’t living up to ideas and ideals. While at age 12 she feels grown up, she’s not treated like an adult. Throughout the trip and on Titan, she has lots of free time and freedom, but not in a kid-friendly way. Realizing and reacting to her parents’ differing parenting styles, and being hungry for information and life experience, will resonate with most readers.

Abrego’s art is gorgeous. Her figures cute and stylized, with lots of color, rounded faces, big eyes, and diverse body types, skin colors, and clothing styles. Some of the most impactful panels include Grace’s looks of wonder upon experiencing new things, the gorgeous (and alien!) planetary landscapes, and details of space travel and extra-planetary life. Abrego’s illustrations definitely add depth to the story and complement it perfectly.

In all, Grace Needs Space! is an insightful, beautiful story about the growing pains of coming of age, and the ways in which people and expectations can let us down, or lift us up. It’s also absolute fun and a visual marvel: it contains multitudes!

Recommended for: readers ages 8 and up (though would be perfectly acceptable for younger readers who are reading up), fans of science fiction, and anyone looking for beautifully-illustrated graphic novels.

hockey girl loves drama boy

In a moment of reading serendipity, a friend recently recommended to me a book that I already had on my to-read list (and better yet, had already bought!). That book was Faith Erin Hicks’ 2023 young adult graphic novel Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy. I was sold at hockey + rom-com, but with a friend’s genuine excitement in play, it moved up to the top of the pile, and I finished it – and loved it – earlier this month, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

It should have been a night of triumph for Alix’s hockey team. But her mean teammate Lindsay decided to start up with her usual rude comments and today Alix, who usually tries to control her anger, let it finally run free. Alix lashes out and before she knows it, her coach is dragging her off Lindsay, and the invitation to the Canada National Women’s U18 Team’s summer camp is on the line.

She needs to learn how to control this anger, and she is sure Ezra, the popular and poised theater kid from her grade is the answer. So she asks for his help. But as they hang out and start get closer, Alix learns that there is more to Ezra than the cool front he puts on. And that maybe this friendship could become something more...

Alix loves hockey and hockey loves her back. However, her team captain Lindsey has been slowly breaking down that passion with bullying, and one day Alix snaps and responds with physical aggression. In an effort to learn how to control and move past her anger, Alix reaches out to well-liked, poised drama geek Ezra. With Ezra’s help, Alix hopes to prove to her coach that she deserves a spot at a prestigious hockey camp. Somewhere in the midst of hanging out at his family’s second hand store, going to a public ice skate (peak Canadian!), and helping to put together the school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors, Alix and Ezra start to crush on each other. However, Ezra’s best friend is upset that he's hanging out with Alix, and Alix’s mom (a Canadian-famous artist) isn’t a fan of hockey for her own reasons… among other impediments. Will it all turn out in the end? Spoiler alert: there’s a rom-com worthy happy ending!

Author-illustrator Hicks’ characters are the highlight of this story. Quiet, stoic-seeming Aliz is learning to deal with an excess of emotion all of a sudden, and navigating complex and fraught family relationships as well as a romantic relationship for the first time. It’s enough to stress anyone out, but Alix’s drive to improve in hockey fuels changes in other areas of her life as well. Alix is open to new experiences, and so she grows! Other main character Ezra seems like he has his life together, but he too is struggling – with trust, and to be a good person – to not take advantage of those who love him. Together, they’re a delightful bundle of hormones, issues, and identity crises. How does Hicks turn this into a viable rom-com after all??! 

First, with character revelations, like the fact that Ezra is still figuring out his sexual identity, but he can fight homophobic bullies in the meantime! And then a road trip complete with pancakes and a car breakdown, and finally, with a hockey game and boba tea. Throw it all together, and you get a graphic novel that is, at times, too cute for words!

Hicks’ illustrations feature black ink linework on a white background, with some spots of sky blue as highlights, and really focus on details that move the plot along. There’s a lot of movement and emotion in Hicks’ drawings, which for this book were drawn first digitally, and then inked on paper with a watercolor brush. Some of my favorite scenes were ones that included hockey play, but my absolute favorite panels were two where Alix is thinking about Ezra and has a bunch of little hearts floating around her head, and then they “pop!” like bubbles as she convinces herself that there’s no way that Ezra could return her feelings. All that to say, the story would be great regardless, but the illustrations add wonderful layers of enjoyment and meaning. 

In all, Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy is a satisfying young adult romance with LGBTQ+ representation, excellent swoon factor, and art that will knock your socks off. 

Recommended for: fans of young adult romances and hockey, and anyone looking for an authentic and heartwarming story!

2024 book gift guide

As in past years (2021, 2022), I present to you a book gift guide. This is more a record of the books I’m gifting in the 2024 holiday season than anything else, but if you still need a few presents and have a bookstore nearby, I heartily recommend each and every title herein. Not all books are new this year – I’ve added the year of publication in parentheses if this matters to you. And if you (or your child) are someone I give to… look away, lest you be spoiled!

Board books for babies (ages 0-2):

Look Twice by Giuliano Ferri (2022) – A tried-and-proven board book. This one has minimal text, baby-friendly page cut-outs, and art with a bit of a spray-painted look.

Picture books for littles (ages 3-5):

Cat Family Christmas: A Lift-the-Flap Advent Book by Lucy Brownridge, illustrated by Eunyoung Soo (2022) – I love an advent calendar, and lift-the-flap books are reliably popular with little ones. Also, a cat family at Christmas?! Automatic win.

Tis the Season: A Lift-the-Flap Advent Calendar Full of Christmas Poems illustrated by Richard Jones (2024) – I already had my eye on advent books, so when this one came across my feed this year I put it on my shopping list. Love the art style, and with festive poems, it’s bound to be a perennial favorite!

A Flash of Color and Light: A Biography of Dave Chihuly by Sharon Mentyka, illustrated by Shelley Couvillion (2024) – This title “is a celebration of color, light, glass, and Dale Chihuly’s enormous contribution to the field of glassmaking and art.”

We Are Definitely Human by X. Fang (2024) – This funny, clever, and gorgeously-illustrated picture book is one of my favorites this year. It celebrates the kindness of humans, too, which is a great message for any season.

Books for early readers (ages 6-7):

Little Shrew by Akiko Miyakoshi, translated by Kids Can Press (2024) – This “slice of life story is understated, beautiful, and delightfully charming. It’s going in every holiday stocking this winter!” DELIGHTFUL.

Mayor Good Boy by Dave Scheidt and Miranda Harmon (2021) – I haven’t read this one myself, but this first in a graphic novel series comes HIGHLY recommended by one of my niblings (yes, I have gifted this one before!!). 

Science Comics: Crows by Kyla Vanderklugt (2020) – A good choice for the reader who likes nonfiction, this title is a highly-rated entry in the Science Comics series. Can’t wait to be bombarded with crow facts. :)

Slightly older elementary school kids (ages 8-12):

Forces of Destiny by Elsa Charretier, Jody Houser, Delilah S. Dawson, Beth Revis, Devin Grayson, and Pierrick Colin, illustrated by Arianna Florean, Eva Widermann, Valentina Pinto, and Nicoletta Baldari (2018) – I’ve been hanging onto this book until the recipient was the right age! It’s a slim graphic novel volume on Star Wars’ heroines, and I’m sure it’ll thrill this kiddo.

Squire & Knight by Scott Chantler (2023) – For a young reader who appreciates a strong dose of humor and chivalry in their reading.

The Night Mother Vol. 1 by Jeremy Lambert, illustrated by Alexa Sharpe (2024) – A full-color, gorgeously-illustrated series-starter of a graphic novel volume that brings together: clocks, a girl who can hear the dead, and a ripping adventure story.

Grace Needs Space! by Benjamin A. Wilgus, illustrated by Rii Abrego (2023) – I read this graphic novel right before wrapping it up, and it’s so adorable I could just squish it. Abrego’s (of The Sprite and the Gardener fame) illustrations are incredible – Grace’s eyes especially are something special, and evoke lots of authentic pre-teen emotion.

Tiffany’s Griffon by Magnolia Porter Siddell, illustrated by Maddi Gonzalez (2024) – A fantastical middle grade graphic novel about a girl who desperately wants to be the star of a story, but ends up as the sidekick. 

A Place to Hang the Moon by Kate Albus (2021) – The only non-graphic novel for this category, this middle grade historical fiction set in Britain during WWII has Narnia and found-family vibes.

Graphic novels for the teen crowd (ages 13-18):

Mythmakers: The Remarkable Fellowship of C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien by John Hendrix (2024) – Speaking of Narnia, are you curious about author C.S. Lewis and his famous fantasy author friend Tolkien? If so, this book is perfect for you. Great for ages 13+ – it also has strong adult crossover appeal.

Young Hag and the Witches’ Quest by Isabel Greenberg (2024) – Know any teens into witchy tales, folklore, and/or Arthurian myths? This retelling is appropriately gruesome, and has the potential to engage both reluctant and enthusiastic readers alike. 

For adults:

The Jinn-Bot of Shanti-Port by Samit Basu (2023) – I saw this one pitched as having Murderbot and mystery vibes. I need to get a copy for myself, too!

Toward Eternity by Anton Hur (2024) – Hur is the translator of several well-regarded books, and this is their sci-fi debut with notes on AI and climate. 

The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer, illustrations by John Burgoyne (2024) – The author of Braiding Sweetgrass is back with a short book on natural reciprocity. 

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley (2024) – From my review at Orange Blossom Ordinary, this story about a time-traveling, doomed Arctic explorer “is hugely entertaining and thoughtful, then casually devastating, and ends on a note of hopeful ambiguity – a most enjoyable science fiction reading experience.”

The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki, translated by Jesse Kirkwood (2024) – On the full moon, a mysterious coffee shop appears, staffed by cats who solve problems by serving patrons delicious food! What’s not to love?

Butter by Asako Yuzuki, translated by Polly Barton (2024) – Billed as a killer mystery for foodies, and an international bestseller at that!

Not books, but gifts you can find in a bookstore (links to Barnes & Noble):

Elephant & Piggie socks – For your friend who wants cozy feet with bookish style.

2025 Art Page-A-Day Gallery Calendar – Art, every day of the year!

What books are you gifting this year?

sunhead

I went to the bookstore over the summer to pick up a newly-released graphic novel that the internet promised they had in stock. Unfortunately they couldn’t find it once I got there. While the unfruitful search was taking place, I picked Alex Assan's young adult graphic novel Sunhead off the shelves and decided to give it a try. This volume is a quick read at 250 pages and its story will resonate with the younger end of the young adult demographic (13-to-15-year-olds). With a focus on visual storytelling over dialogue, it will appeal even to those who are not confident in their reading abilities.

Rotem is a Sunhead, a fan of the international smash hit Sunrise series of books and films. She’s obsessed with the story’s love interest, Edmund, and no one else gets it. But all that changes when she befriends Ayala, a shy classmate and avid book lover who’s as swept away by the romance as she is. The two become fast friends, but as their deep connection grows stronger, Rotem starts to wonder: What exactly draws her to this story?

Alex Assan’s debut, Sunhead, is an earnest coming-of-age graphic novel that explores how the stories we love help us understand our friendships, our relationships, and ourselves.

 

Rotem is a Sunhead, a rabid fan of the fictional Sunrise series of books, about a vampire named Edmund who goes to high school and falls in love with a human girl named Zoe. If you are thinking to yourself… that sounds familiar… You are right. Sunhead in this instance = Twihard (fan of the Twilight books). The parallels are there in the imagery, storylines, etc. In any case, Rotem is obsessed, and no one else around her understands. When she convinces schoolmate Ayala to read the book, Rotem suddenly has a partner in obsession. Sunhead is a slice-of-life comic where a book and its main character act as catalysts for Rotem’s changing sense of self.

In Sunhead, author-illustrator Assan beautifully captures the awkwardness of hormones, the relief and joy of escapism in imagining that you are somewhere else or someone else, and the agony of having romantic feelings for someone for the first time. The story is told from Rotem’s perspective, and she is the only fully realized character in the book. Much of the story is taken up with her reactions to conflict, musings on Sunrise, and self-isolation. Rotem doesn’t have a clear idea of who she is yet, but her first experience with making a friend (Ayala) based on her niche interests leads to intense conversations, longing glances, and acting impulsively on new feelings and then running away. In other words, it is awkward and an accurate encapsulation of the teenage experience.

 

A note on the setting: I did not realize before diving into the book that Rotem was an Israeli teenager, nor that the book was set in Tel Aviv – this information is not included anywhere in the book blurb. After reading Sunhead, I can see why: the setting plays such a minor part that it could really be set almost anywhere. The only clues seemed to be comments that Rotem made about waiting for Hebrew translations of the Sunrise books and subtitles for the Sunrise film. The time period also seems to be the early 2000s – with computers but without ubiquitous cell phones. The Tel-Aviv depicted in Sunhead is bloodless and featureless, and that feels problematic in our current timeline. Author Assan is visibly pro-Palestine on social media, and talks openly about gay Israeli community, but these do not come through in the book. I can understand why, because Sunhead is all about Rotem’s coming of age and internality, and her perspective is limited and immature, but it does feel like a disservice to the place, its people, and its history.

 

Let’s talk art! Assan used digital tools to create Sunhead, but the soft lines are reminiscent of either charcoal or brushwork, and the subtlety in shading and coloring of watercolor. Assan uses traditional rectangular panels throughout except for the daydream Sunrise sequences, which are more freeform and loose, and set apart from the rest of the text in tones of pink and red. The art overall is colored in a visually appealing and warm palette of yellows, reds and browns. Assan’s storytelling relies heavily on facial expressions and closeups of body language. So much so that there is a 45-page-long section of wordless text towards the end of the book. I understand the effect the artist was hoping to achieve, but so many pages without text make it easy to flip through quickly, without paying attention to details, and as such may lose the poignancy the author is trying to convey.

In all, Sunhead is a quick read with a slightly unfinished feel. It focuses on Rotem’s joy and angst in falling deeply in love with a book, and how the important stories from our teen years can change us forever.

Recommended for: young teens (think ages 13+) of all reading levels, anyone who has ever fallen deeply into obsession with a book, and fans of queer coming-of-age and slice-of-life stories.

dear sister

I’m somehow on the side of TikTok (yes I am over there, but only as a lurker) where couples consisting of one partner who had siblings and another who was an only child tell horror stories. The sibling stories alway make me laugh, because no matter how outlandish or annoying the antics seem, I think to myself “yes, that tracks.” I’m the oldest of five, and being an older sister will NEVER not be part of my identity. Author Alison McGhee and illustrator Joe Bluhm's middle grade graphic novel Dear Sister is a sweet, middle-school-type tale of a new big brother’s relationship with his baby sister, told through his notes and drawings to and about her. And let me tell you, this book is packed with emotion and hilarity.

What do you do when you have an incredibly annoying little sister? Write her letters telling her so, of course! From New York Times bestselling author Alison McGhee comes a wickedly funny, illustrated, heartwarming, and searingly honest collection of letters from an older brother to his little sister.

Whininess, annoyingness, afraid of the darkness, refusal to eat lima beans, and pulling brother’s hair. These are the criteria on which little sisters are graded. Inspired by the notes Alison McGhee’s own kids would write each other, this heavily illustrated collection of letters and messages from an older brother to his little sister reveal the special love—or, at the very least, tolerance—siblings have for each other.

 

Sister arrives when the narrator is eight-years-old, and the book unfolds as a series of notes and drawings both to, and eventually back, from sister. As they age, both siblings’ drawings and penmanship grow in sophistication, and there are occasional spreads where the whole family is depicted as well. Brother provides progress reports on items like whininess, annoyingness, being afraid of the dark, and the unfairness of being forced to eat lima beans. Meanwhile their parents are the wardens, who punish him when he is unkind to Sister. Over the course of the book, annoyance slowly changes to grudging fondness, and eventually to brotherly love (but still with annoyance mixed in because no one is perfect!). 

McGhee’s narrative succeeds because it feels so authentic. Brother is typical in some ways, leaving messages like “Leave me alone” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” but these messages are mixed in with genuine worry when his little sister gets appendicitis. The ending is moving – maybe what you’d expect or maybe not – and the book ends when Brother goes off to college. Themes throughout are adjusting to a growing family, and learning how to be a good big brother, coming of age, and how friendship changes over the course of life no matter what. 

Bluhm’s art is mixed media, with most of the notes that make up the majority of the text in pencil or pen. As mentioned above, the illustrations and penmanship become more complex (and hilarious) as Brother grows older. The palette of blues and blacks pop against a white background, and Bluhm does a great job of letting the letters and notes themselves take center stage, and using illustrations for comic effect and to add to the overall meaning. It really feels as if you get a view into their life, but that the epistolary nature of the text still takes center stage.

In all, Dear Sister is a poignant, true-to-life illustrated take on becoming an older sibling and all that entails. Its portrayal of the funny, honest, and you’re-annoying-but-i-love-you realness of sibling relationships (without the rivalry aspect) is spot on.

Recommended for: readers ages 7+ (especially those with siblings of their own), aspiring artists, and fans of epistolary storytelling.

the well

I’ve had Jake Wyatt and Choo's young adult graphic novel The Well on my radar since 2022, when I was last a Cybils award judge in the graphic novel category. Its beautiful book cover and fable-esque blurb lured me in, and I bought a copy for myself (and indirectly, my classroom library). Two years later, I finally read it, and I can confirm that: the art is gorgeous, the story adventurous, the tone by turns playful and serious, and at under 180 pages, the length perfect for the lower end of the young adult crowd (13- to 15-year-olds). On the whole it’s a jewel box of a book! 

 

Li-Zhen’s life on the archipelago is simple. Known to friends and family as Lizzy, she takes care of her grandfather and their goats, she flirts with the woman who helps row the ferry, and she stays away from the fog that comes in the night—and the monsters hiding within it.

But Lizzy’s life comes apart when she steals a handful of coins from a sacred well to cover a debt. The well requires repayment, but it doesn’t deal in coins. It needs wishes, and its minions will drown Lizzy in its depths if she doesn’t grant them. Lizzy finds herself on a quest to uncover hidden memories, bestow great wealth, and face the magical secrets that nearly destroyed her family—and are now returning to threaten everything she has ever known.

In this breathtaking graphic novel, Jake Wyatt and Choo have created a modern fable based on magic and family secrets, exploring the power—and limits—of wishes.

 

Li-zhen (or Lizzy, as she goes by for much of the book) is young and excitable. She lives on a remote island with her grandfather Ah-gong, and they make their way in the world by raising goats. Life on the islands used to be very different: before the mists and sea monsters arrived, there was trade and movement. Lizzy’s grandmother, mother, and father all died in a heroic effort to defeat the Leviathan that threatened the Crescent islands, and Lizzy has inherited a tiny measure of their magic. Now as a teen, she is desperate to be out and about on her own. When a sea monster attacks the ferry to the market, and she overspends and doesn’t have enough for fare back, she takes money from a sacred well and is then cursed. To lift the curse, she will have to complete three seemingly impossible tasks, and in the process learn much about human nature and desire, and make peace with her family history.

The setting of The Well is unusual and interesting: a world post-climate apocalypse, with magical elements (the titular well holds mystical power) and modern sensibilities as far as dress and relationship and gender norms, but without electricity or connections to a wider world. The Crescent, the archipelago the story is set in, is haunted by an ever-present mist and lesser sea monsters that disrupt trade and community. The character names are a mix of Eastern and Western traditions, and there are several art elements that place the book somewhere in Asia or Asia-inspired, like the boats, aforementioned clothing styles, and inclusion of symbols (cherry blossoms, coins, etc.).

Other delightful elements: the magic, which actually plays a minor part for about half of the story. Magic is involved in the setting and set-up (and of course the curse and its follow-through), but overall minor magic does not affect Lizzy’s everyday life. The major magical events that shaped her world happened years prior. Additionally, the characters are endearing, heartbroken, resourceful, greedy, and more – in other words, they are flawed and dynamic. Lizzy herself grows over the course of the book from carefree and innocent (as much as one can be with such a weighty past) to self-aware, with a growing sense of responsibility. My favorite bit of dialogue on page 89 relates to a lesson about courage, bravery, and greed in the midst of Lizzy’s trials. Ah-gong says, “Courage is doing what is right and necessary, regardless of peril. Your parents were brave. Your grandmother was brave. Endangering yourself or others for the sake of wealth? Risking lives for a chance at ill-gotten gain? This is not courage. It is avarice.” This reminder about morally acceptable motivation is emblematic of the text’s message as a whole.

 

And the art! We mustn’t forget Choo’s fabulous art! With intricate and careful linework that is reminiscent of Tillie Walden’s work, and a color palette of purples, reds, oranges, and blues, the illustrations are the real standout of this book. That’s saying something given the engaging storyline! With mythical elements (a Leviathan, after all!), mist-shrouded landscapes, the trappings of a sea-faring society, and changes in perspective, the panels will transport the reader into the story and keep their attention until the very end.

In all, Wyatt and Choo’s The Well is an entertaining and satisfying adventure, with an unwitting (and at times unwilling) hero and heroics, an original world, and exquisite art. 

Recommended for: fans of fantasy graphic novels and manga, readers ages 10+, anyone looking to stock a bookshelf with shorter-length, high-interest fiction, and those captivated by the beautiful illustration on the book cover.

illegal

Several years ago, I read Eoin Colfer, Andrew Donkin and Giovanni Rigano's graphic novel Illegal as a Cybils Award judge, and wrote down some rough thoughts. Today, the day after an important US presidential election, I am finally publishing them. Since I’m writing this well in advance, I don’t yet know the results, but I do know that migration – whether it is deemed legal or illegal – is one of the most important moral, ethical, and political issues of our time. Books that tackle immigration and migration in nuanced, empathetic ways are godsend, and this particular volume is in heavy rotation during choice reading time in my classroom. Kids care, and adults should too!

A powerfully moving graphic novel by New York Times bestselling author Eoin Colfer and the team behind the Artemis Fowl graphic novels that explores the current plight of undocumented immigrants.

Ebo is alone. His brother, Kwame, has disappeared, and Ebo knows it can only be to attempt the hazardous journey to Europe, and a better life—the same journey their sister set out on months ago.

But Ebo refuses to be left behind in Ghana. He sets out after Kwame and joins him on the quest to reach Europe. Ebo's epic journey takes him across the Sahara Desert to the dangerous streets of Tripoli, and finally out to the merciless sea. But with every step he holds on to his hope for a new life, and a reunion with his family.

Prefacing the book is Elie Wiesel’s quote, “...No human being is illegal.” Twelve-year-old Ebo is following his brother Kwame from Ghana to Europe. They think their older sister Sisi is already there, but they haven’t heard from her, and their useless uncle drinks. As orphans, they have only each other to rely on. Ebo’s singing voice is his one talent, and both brothers work at each point in the journey to make money for their next crossing, whatever that might be. They face many dangers: the desert, unreliable smugglers, armed police, an unforgiving climate, lack of water, food, and shelter, and an ocean crossing when no one can swim. In the midst of these crises, they experience rare moments of human kindness that transcend language barriers, and help them survive.

It is important to have stories like Ebo’s in the world: they humanize the immigration journeys from news reports and widen the circle of those who both know and pay attention to this struggle. That said, I wish that there had been some people of color, or those who had experienced migration involved in the making of the book. The term “illegals” has been thrown around countless times in America’s political sphere in the past decade to dehumanize and stoke hate. That hate has real consequences. Education and empathy are a huge step towards dispelling those negative forces, and this book will contribute to both. I also wish that there were more resources tied to it to encourage interested readers to continue their research. It would pair well with graphic novels based on true stories, such as Unwanted: Stories of Syrian Refugees or When Stars Are Scattered.

The art in Illegal is beautiful, particularly the landscapes. For a book about migration, there is not much movement in the illustrations – panels focus instead on conversations that take place in one location, and then the next panels are set in a new place. The story overall leans much more on text than art as a storytelling device, and this works, though the art is lovely enough to draw in readers. There are lots of blues and purples: for the ocean, during rainy scenes, or during nighttime (the most convenient time for smuggling).

In all, this story will humanize migrants and build empathy, and though it has no direct call to action, it will make the empathetic want to help children like Ebo and Kwame.

Recommended for: middle and high school libraries and classrooms, readers who loved Alan Gratz’s Refugee, and fans of well-made adventure graphic novels.

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+!

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.