Precious Papas

Even after a hard day of work, he had time for a make-believe adventure.  Lying on his back, knees bent and hands next to his head with the palms up, Dad became an automobile.  Seated on his knees, with hands grasping an imaginary steering wheel, I was the driver.  Our destination and the time to get there was controlled by my feet pushing on his hands, one for the brakes and one for the accelerator.  As the driver I would honk the horn with ease and as the automobile, he made appropriate engine, wheel and road sounds.  What grand trips we took!

Making these magical moments happen is a gift fathers give to their daughters and sons.  Side by Side: A Celebration Of Dads (Phaidon Press Limited, March 11, 2019) written and illustrated by Chris Raschka showcases fathers and their children living in treasured tandem.  These generous gestures, these shared minutes or hours, live on from generation to generation.

In this title six fathers and their daughters or sons enjoy three different activities sparingly named. In the first two the pair each play a part in an inseparable pastime or as opposites in a common theme.  In the third scene their pursuit is labeled

Side by side.

A crown-wearing daughter is royalty.  Her father is assigned to make her laugh as jester.  A boy is scooped into his father's lowered arms.  One is the crane and the other is the cargo.  When rain falls this father and his son stand together beneath an umbrella.

A dad sits reading in an outdoor chair.  His daughter, magnifying glass in hand is looking at something in the grass.  They are

Base and explorer.

There is a mountain to be climbed and a game of checkers to be played. The role of teacher and learner is switched before a twosome soars on swings.  Fathers offer the comfort of a cozy place to lay our heads.  Whatever the endeavor, they are here . . . always.


Using the principal of less is more, Chris Raschka elevates it to excellence in this book.  Three words describe each scene simply.  By having the title text conclude the third feature, it supplies a rhythm and a connection between all six fathers and their daughters and sons.  We are soothed and lulled by these words.


One of the first things readers will notice about this book is the trim size.  The width (6 1/2 ") is designed to be held easily by hands of all sizes.  The height (11") is reminiscent of The Tall Book series published in the 1950s.  When the dust jacket is opened the white canvas continues on the other side of the spine to the left, on the back.  The only items pictured are the shoes of the father and daughter shown on the front.  Although the illustrations are in full color, the use of primary colors grabs our attention.

On the book case in loose squares and rectangles, Chris Raschka has created a pattern of twenty-four different elements with a heavy emphasis on oranges and yellows in the designs.  The title text is placed in one of the shapes.  The lines, drops, flowers, dots, circles, crosses and curly leaves on stems exude joy.

On the opening and closing endpapers pairs of hats for fathers and daughters and sons and pairs of shoes for fathers and daughters and sons, are shown, respectively.  There are twelve sets each.  Readers will enjoy matching the hats and shoes to the characters inside the book.

Chris Raschka's signature artwork on heavier, matte-finished paper radiates from the double-page pictures with exuberance.  His flowing, loose lines and blend of soft and darker shades portrays with perfection the affection between the fathers and their children.  This not only envelopes readers but draws them into each scene.  After the first three fathers and their children but before the second set of three, a two-page image shows each parent and child enjoying ice cream or popsicles from a vendor.  It's as if they all arrived at the park at the same time.  Each duo is framed separately along with the seller.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is for one of the

Side by side 

settings.  A father and his daughter are lying on beach towels in the sun.  They are lying on their backs with their bare feet extended toward the reader.  They are wearing shorts, tops and sunglasses.  He has a red towel and a red umbrella over him.  She has a purple towel and a green umbrella over her.


Surely every reader will find an occasion captured in this book, Side by Side: A Celebration Of Dads written and illustrated by Chris Raschka, which replicates one they've had or will trigger the memory of a similar experience.  You can hold the love expressed in these pages in your hands even after you've finished the book and set it aside.  I highly recommend this title for your professional and personal collections.

To learn more about Chris Raschka and his other work, you might want to look at an earlier post on a website linked to his name.  Chris Raschka has an account on Twitter.  He regularly posts his artwork.  At the publisher's website you can view interior images.  Please enjoy this video from September 2018 where Chris Raschka shares his process.

Countdown To 2019 #2 Night

Last night, or rather very early this morning, a yip split the air outside the house.  It was followed by a melodic, soulful howling of at least one coyote.  It was breathtakingly beautiful and a reminder of a world that exists for many when others are sleeping.

There are animals whose lives function best when darkness changes the landscape into a multitude of shadows and shapes not seen during daylight.  There are people who work tirelessly during the night to ensure safety and stability for many individuals. Published in 2018 there are two lovely titles presenting those whose tasks take them from their homes while the rest of the community sleeps.

Night Job (Candlewick Press, September 11, 2018) written by Karen Hesse with illustrations by G. Brian Karas invites readers to join a father and his son for one night.  In that one night we are introduced to a lasting love.  We understand the precious nature of memories acting as the glue for an unbreakable bond.

On Friday nights, when the sun goes down,
I snap the clips shut on Dad's lunch box
and climb onto the back of his bike.

The boy, hands and arms clasped around his father's body, roar down the highway on a motorcycle.  After passing the bay, they arrive at their destination, a school.  The odor of the air has shifted from fish to lilacs.

After unlocking the door to the building, the two enter and start to work.  In the gym, they begin, one dusting the floor and the other shooting baskets.  As they clean the cafeteria and stage, a radio momentarily takes them to a baseball game.  Together they sweep one hallway after another hallway.

Two hours before midnight they stop and eat their packed meal in the courtyard. Later when they move to the library, one polishes and another one reads aloud until he falls asleep.  With dawn less than two hours away, the dad and his son get ready to leave, riding the bike back home.

They pass wildlife and fishermen getting ready to work.  Quietly they enter their neighborhood.  A regular routine guides them to rest and dreams.


When Karen Hesse writes this story, she chooses to direct our attention to very specific details.  Her poetic depictions of these elements lure and lull us into the magic found in this night.  She takes what is normal and ordinary and lifts it up.  We realize the priceless nature of this job and this relationship.  Here is a passage.

We pull into our space.
Dad hauls out a ring of keys
as big as the rising moon.
He opens the door
and the building sighs.
Come, it whispers to us.


There is something special and welcoming about the fine lines forming eyebrows, eyes, noses and mouths and creating soft scenes in the artwork of G. Brian Karas.  On the front of the matching dust jacket and book case, as the dad and his son work, we see a fondness for their tasks and for each other.  To the left, on the back, we join them in the courtyard as they eat their nighttime meal.  They are cozy in the darkness with light from the hallway shining on them.

A deep muted blue covers the opening and closing endpapers.  G. Brian Karas begins his pictorial interpretation on the initial title page giving us a view of the apartment where the dad and son live.  All other windows are dark except for their window. In four horizontal squares spread across two pages the preparations and leaving of the duo are placed beneath the title text on the formal page.

The dark muted colors shown in small square images, full-page and double-page pictures, and illustrations moving over the gutter to create columns for text beckon to readers.  At another point G. Brian Karas uses three vertical panels over two pages to provide the passage of time.  It's as if we have stepped into another realm, one of comfort and consistency.

One of my many favorite illustrations is the third panel of those vertical illustrations.  In this one as our eyes move from left to right, we understand the floor polishing is completed and the dad is now dusting book shelves.  Off to the right in a corner made by higher book cases sits a green sofa with a single light shining on it.  The boy has fallen asleep.  He has taken off his red sneakers.  He is still holding the book he was reading in one hand, but it is now resting on the floor.  Bliss.


You want to hug this book.  You want to put it next to your bed, at the very least, or maybe under your pillow.  You want to share Night Job written by Karen Hesse with illustrations by G. Brian Karas with everyone.  You certainly will want a copy on your personal and professional book shelves.
To learn more about Karen Hess and G. Brian Karas follow the links attached to their names to access their websites. At Candlewick Press and Penguin Random House you can view interior images.  Candlewick Press has an author's note about the journey to publication.  In a beautiful post, author, reviewer and blogger, Julie Danielson, speaks about this title on her blog, Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  G. Brian Karas has an account on Twitter.



Sometimes during the night beings who normally hide, reveal themselves.  Their need for connections overcomes their fear.  Kitten and the Night Watchman (A Paula Wiseman Book, Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers, September 25, 2018) written by John Sullivan with illustrations by Taeeun Yoo is a story about one of those connections.

The night watchman hugs
his wife and children . . .

and drives to work. 

As the sky turns red and orange and gold, he takes his solitary walks.  Every aspect, doors, windows and workshops, in buildings are checked.  He strolls through yards full of equipment.  A startled bird shrieks into the dusk.

Pausing for a moment the night watchman sees a full moon and stars bathe the city in light.  A soft sound gets his attention.  A kitten has returned.  Now the man is not alone as he creates a path with his flashlight.

Machines look like monsters or insects.  A jet travels overhead.  A dinner is shared as the companions rest.  Wherever he goes, the kitten follows, until she vanishes.

Where did she go?  A dog barks.  Travelers in cars and on trains make other night noises.  The night watchman can't stop thinking about the kitten.  Hours tick-tock past until the sky lightens.  A man leaves his workplace in his car, heading home with a gift.


In simple declarative sentences by John Sullivan, this story unfolds.  Through this technique we are able to walk side-by-side with the night watchman.  His descriptions of sights and sounds disclose the changes night brings.  Here are some sentences.

An excavator bows
like a strange giraffe.

A backhoe rises 
like a giant insect.

A jet glows in the night sky.
SHHHHEEEEEEEEERRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMM
And all is quiet again.


The open and matching dust jacket and book case, front and back, are symbolic of a discovery and continuation of a lasting friendship.  On the former the watchman finds his feline friend has returned again.  On the later, what was lost is found.  The moon and flashlight beam on the jacket are varnished.

The color palette used by Taeeun Yoo is rich and bold making use of blues and purples with complementary splashes of yellow and red.  She eases into the night hues by starting with close-of-the-day shades.  The opening and closing endpapers in contrast are a pale robin's egg blue.  On the initial title page, the words are placed on a canvas of a slightly darker blue with golden colors.  This continues to the verso and title pages with deeper and warmer hues of gold.

Each illustration rendered using digital and hand-printed textures is on full pages, double pages or loosely framed circles.  Even in the shadows encountered on the night watchman's walk, there is a warmth.  When light intrudes it does so in sync with the night.  Taeeun Yoo alters her perspective to intensify the emotional impact of the story.

One of my many favorite pictures is on a single page.  We are close to the night watchman viewing only the upper portion of his body.  In his hands he is holding the kitten close to his face.  Both have a look of pure contentment on their expressions.  Thick lines of light outline elements on their bodies.


Here is yet another book you want to hug and share with the world.  Kitten and the Night Watchman written by John Sullivan with illustrations by Taeeun Yoo is this man's author debut.  It is based upon a true story, his story.  I can't imagine a collection, personal or professional, without a copy of this book.  To learn more about Taeeun Yoo follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  She maintains an account on Instagram.  John Sullivan is interviewed at the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators.  Taeeun Yoo is interviewed at Let's Talk Picture Books.  Both interviews focus mainly on this title.  At Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, author, reviewer and blogger, Julie Danielson, talks about this title.  It's a treat to see all this artwork.

Just A Trip To The Corner Grocer

When your elementary school is only a few blocks from your home in a quiet little town, you walk home every day for lunch.  You and your younger sister never seem to enjoy the meal as quickly as your mom wishes you would.  To keep you eating, she tells you tales.  These are not the remembered narratives from books. These are stories she spins on the spot full of the unexpected, laughter inducing moments.

Decades later you still remember those tales told around the kitchen table. You've picked up the thread becoming a weaver of words yourself, as have your students.  There is a freedom, but also a unique sense of belonging, when you become part of the fabric of story.  When I began reading Neil Gaiman's new title, Fortunately, The Milk (Harper, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers) with illustrations by Skottie Young, (Bloomsbury, UK edition with illustrations by Chris Riddell) it was as if a door had opened, a door where the past and the present could exist together.  It was a magical blending of remembered memories from my childhood with those of the here and now.

There was only orange juice in the fridge.

When your mom has left home for a conference presentation on lizards leaving explicit instructions with your dad, including the purchase of more milk, it is dismaying to realize there is currently none available for your cereal in the morning of the next day.  In the middle of wanting to suggest alternatives to said breakfast fare, it suddenly dawns on your father his tea will be lacking its usual dose of milk too.  Without further ado, he leaves you and your sister to quickly walk to the store to get what everyone wants and needs.

Regrettably your father does not return promptly.  What else can you eat?  What could have happened?  Finally, in walks dad with the milk and an outlandish explanation for his lateness.

Stepping outside the shop he hears a noise, looks up seeing a gigantic silver circle in the air. A beam of light transports him up to the interior of the craft populated by green blobs.  They make ridiculous demands to be met or the planet, as we know it, will be destroyed and remodeled.

Noticing an exit of sorts, amid their cries of not to open the door, Dad does, dropping him into the middle of the sea.  A bunch of scallywags lead by a Pirate Queen, from the eighteenth century, haul him out of the water to the deck of their ship. (The door did release a space-time continuum.)  Within minutes of his arrival, Dad is being forced to walk the plank, which he himself suggested they make him do.  All manner of dangerous creatures are swimming in the water below.

As he is about to step to his doom, a rope ladder falls from a hot air balloon. To Dad's surprise it is manned by a talking stegosaurus, an inventor from the distant past and a distant planet.  Zooming back and forth between history and the future, the duo meet people living in a jungle looking for a human sacrifice to appease the volcanic god, Splod, colorful ponies, a flock...er...group of wumpires, a bowl filled with piranhas and galactic space police of a prehistoric nature.  In what can only be described as multiple, quirky twists and turns of events, the container of milk (and three small people who pop from the air) become major players in an comic but completely satisfying conclusion.  Readers along with the boy and his sister will be left wide-eyed and wondering.


By the bottom of the first page Neil Gaiman has your attention with the inclusion of a sibling experiment involving mushrooms in chocolate.  With each sentence, paragraph, we become more captivated by the introduction of dad's endearing personality traits.  Before we know it, we are alongside the brother and sister in the kitchen, listening to the story of madcap mishaps unfolding.

We are whooshed into a spacecraft, standing on the deck of a pirate ship, floating in the sky and through time in a hot air balloon, or trudging through a jungle toward a volcano.  As inconceivable as all these characters and events might seem, Gaiman, the consummate storyteller, fashions them, link by link, into a chain of hilarious possibility.  Several times during the course of the dad's retelling, the children voice questions and comments which only add to the overall appeal.  Repeatedly the phrase, fortunately, the milk, appears giving strength to the flow of the narrative.


As a reader and a collector of books, I knew I had to have both editions of this title.  The US edition is cleverly illustrated by cartoonist, Skottie Young.  His intricate line work, his interpretation of the storyline, is full of the the fantastic.  Exaggerated facial expressions on the characters enhance the emotional impact.

Varied in size his illustrations appear with every page turn, a careful blend with the text.  Readers eyes will savor the writing, then drink in the liveliness of the pictures.  My favorite is of his portrayal of this sentence:

And he went back to reading his paper.

The knowing look, the smile on the dad's face, sitting in his favorite plaid-covered chair, the dog resting by his side, is wonderful.


Chris Riddell, illustrator of the UK edition, gives an entirely new look to the title.  His drawings, his depiction of the characters, while as detailed as those of Young, heighten the sense of adventure beginning with the cover, carrying the rings of time-travel to the endpapers. Opposite the first page, his illustration foreshadows the events to come. Readers will not realize the significance of this until the end.

Rather than show the passage of time as the children are waiting their dad's return with a single double-page spread as Young does, he presents readers with a series of panels showing the son engaged in a variety of activities.  His pictures expertly convey the humor, the sense of marvelous magic, found in the tale.  A full-color four-page foldout of the angry volcano god, is a delightful surprise.

I have to say, all his illustrations of the dad are favorites.  Following the story's end the publishers have written a small note to readers.  This in turn, is followed by Riddell's naming of all the characters, providing full-body portraits of each.


Fortunately, The Milk penned with purpose by Neil Gaiman and pictured by Skottie Young and Chris Riddell, is sheer pleasure from beginning to end.  Not only do I highly recommend this book as a read aloud but readers need to see and enjoy both editions of this title.  It will encourage discussions about illustrator's perceptions of text especially the final wordless scene of each.  I would love to know their views about these visuals.

If you desire to know more about Neil Gaiman, Skottie Young or Chris Riddell follow the links to their respective websites embedded in their names in the post above.  I invite you to follow this link to the Bloomsbury website teacher's guide.  It links to this website loaded with extras for this title.  Here is the link to the HarperCollinsChildren'sBooks Browse Inside feature where you can view the first twenty-five pages.  Enjoy the videos below.