But For Them . . .

There was immense uncertainty.  There was little knowledge.  There was too much knowledge.  This was not at the local level, the state level, or at the national level.  This was worldwide.  It consumed every aspect of our lives.

It has been 110 days since receipt of the second dose of the vaccine to combat COVID-19.  Prior to that time, 395 days were spent sheltering in place with my constant canine companion.  Without the dedication of essential workers, it would have been far more difficult.  Mail, packages (usually with books), and food were delivered.  Conversations with those marvelous people were conducted through the window glass.  Deep appreciation compelled the leaving of notes and gift cards for these wonderful human beings.  Keeping The City Going (A Caitlyn Dlouhy Book, Atheneum Books for Young Readers, April 27, 2021) written and illustrated by Brian Floca is a melodic, visual expression of gratitude.  It echoes eloquently what many feel and believe.

  

We are here at home now,

watching the world through our windows,

and wondering what will happen next.

The world beyond those windows is not as it has been.  It is nearly silent, businesses are closed, and neighbors are inside.  There are still some people outside moving in all directions.  They are the ones serving the city and its inhabitants.  They are the ones needed to survive this unfamiliar happening.

They bring food from restaurants to our doorsteps.  They bring food to our markets, making sure the shelves are rarely empty.  There are people operating the vehicles providing transportation to those who work in those restaurants and markets.  Taxis still race from place to place.

Sanitation workers tirelessly strive to keep the city clean.  Postal workers deliver mail.  Other services leave packages we can hardly wait to open.  

Utilities we rely on 24/7, internet, electricity, gas, and water, continue because these essential workers are on the job.  Firefighters, police officers, and EMTs work above and beyond committed in honoring their obligations.  All members of hospital staffs push themselves to limits they are unaware they have.  Though we are seeing this city through a window, we witness the steady continuation of vital activities.  Each evening we honor them, at seven o'clock. Listen.

With that first sentence, author Brian Floca portrays a moment felt by many people in cities (in all communities) around the world. With each subsequent thought he builds on the actions of all those not at home looking out at the world.  He heralds their daily accomplishments needed by us.  He does this by speaking plainly, but also poetically with veracity.  Here is a passage.

They're delivering letters and packages---

boxes full of things people need

but can't go out to buy.

And maybe . . . 

just maybe, they're brining

that one thing we ordered

that we don't really need . . . 

If someone were to look at the open and matching dust jacket and book case for this title, their first thought might be about the masks people are wearing.  This gives this book a timely quality for readers now, but also a timeless trait for readers in the future.  Why are people wearing masks?  Each of those vehicles and the people on and in them have a particular purpose necessary to this narrative.  The fine lines, the attention to detail, the realistic but soft colors, are identifying qualities of Brian Floca's artwork throughout this book, throughout many of his books.

To the left, on the back, amid a white canvas is a single, loosely framed circular image.  It is a close-up of a window placed in a block building.  A tree branch hangs over the left corner.  Taped to the window, on the inside, is a piece of paper.  On the paper a rainbow has been drawn.  This symbolizes hope.  This action spread around the world.

A rich, earthy dark tan covers the opening and closing endpapers.  Opposite the verso and dedication (In memory of Richard Jackson, editor and friend) page, a panoramic view of New York City is featured.  These illustrations rendered in

watercolor, ink, acrylic, and gouache  

are placed surrounded by white space, grouped together on a single page to emphasize a point, span a single page, edge to edge, or across two pages, edge to edge.

The images are replete with action in contrast to those sheltering inside, peering out their windows.  All the elements in each picture, large or small, ask us to pause.  They encourage us to remember the people who, whether we are in a lockdown or free to go about our daily lives, keep our communities working properly.  

One of my many, many favorite images is toward the end of the book.  It highlights an overview of two street corners, one street running along the bottom of the page and the other going away from us in the central area.  Buildings line this street on both sides.  It is the same scene shown earlier in the day.  Now a golden hue covers the buildings as the sun moves lower in the sky.  The street is still nearly quiet except for the portion of an ambulance driving off the left side.  There is comfort in this picture, knowing there are those caring for us.

This book, Keeping The City Going written and illustrated by Brian Floca, is a gift.  It is a gift to all those who worked day in and day out to maintain services for everyone.  It is a gift to all readers, reminding us to never forget those who forged paths for creating easier lives for us amid one of the most challenging times in the last one hundred years.  I highly recommend this title for both your personal and professional collections.  

To discover more about Brian Floca and his other work, please follow the link attached to his name to access his website.  Brian Floca has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  The cover reveal is hosted at Publishers Weekly.  This title is showcased at author, reviewer, and blogger Julie Danielson's Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  You will enjoy the conversation between her and Brian along with a lot of artwork.  At the publisher's website you can view the entire jacket and case as well as interior pictures.

Soaring, Seeking And Seeing

Over the past few days a brisk, gusty wind has kept the bugs at bay and the temperatures more moderate.  If you look to the sky you are more than likely to be rewarded with the sight of a red-tailed hawk riding the aerial highway.  Even though science tells how they can soar, glide or fly, to watch them do this feels like we are privy to a miracle.

As other animals have done and fortunately for us, these beautiful birds of prey have adapted to living near and among humans.  Hawk Rising (Roaring Brook Press, June 5, 2018) written by Maria Gianferrari (Coyote Moon Roaring Brook Press, July 19, 2016) with illustrations by Brian Floca (Locomotive A Richard Jackson Book, Atheneum Book for Young Readers, September 3, 2013) is a majestic tribute in words and pictures to survival.  From the perspective of the bird and observant humans, we spend a day soaring, seeking and seeing.

Father Hawk stretches wide his wings.

He is not the only one stretching.  In a home nearby a girl and her younger sister awaken.  The oldest looks high for the hawk.  He sits high on a pole, hoping to catch some food for the chicks in the nest protected by Mother Hawk.  Rosy rays of sun paint the morning sky.

As the child leaves her home, carrying binoculars, Father Hawk notices the quick movements of a chipmunk.  He speedily leaves his perch, intent on capturing the meal.  The crafty chipmunk scurries under a nearby porch.  Up the red-tailed hawk climbs into the sky.

The girl watches the hawk.  The hawk watches from lofty heights.  A group of crows gather and chase him from their area.  He finds sanctuary in the tree tops and spots sparrows on the ground.  He plunges toward them but they scatter to safety.

The girl and her sister are still watching and waiting. The hawk does not deter from his task. With instinctive patience and sense of responsibility, he too watches and waits as the sun lowers in the sky. A squirrel dashes toward security but Father Hawk has a family to feed.  Night descends on two families until tomorrow.

By moving the narrative between Father Hawk and the girl, Maria Gianferrari allows us to be a part of both worlds. She shows us how to observe the splendor living among us.  She masterfully describes the movements of the hunter.

Short sentences with repetition align the two worlds, bird and human.  Alliteration and rhyming supply a welcoming cadence.  Word choices bring the time of day like a blanket to wrap around us.  We are there with Father Hawk.  We are there with the girl and her sister.  Here is one of the passages.

Father Hawk lands on a light-pole.

Dandelions ripple.

Oaks tremble.

Father Hawk perches

and searches.

Sun sinking.

Daylight blinking.

Chicks waiting.

You fading.

When you open the cover of an F & G (or look at the front image) and momentarily stop breathing, you know when you hold the finished book, it will be stunning. The red-tailed hawk, wings spread and ready to take flight will assuredly have readers wondering if Father Hawk will come to life.  The details in this scene, the fine lines, brush strokes and color palette, are found in each and every illustration rendered by Brian Floca.  The authenticity is fabulous!

To the left, on the back, we zoom in to see the hawk perched on top of a pole, ready to dive.  The lighting is paler, suggesting the sun is higher in the sky.  On the title page a small, loosely framed picture of the girl's house and the nearby nest depicts the breaking day.  With a page turn the publication information on the left and the first sentence on the right are set in a spectacular two-page picture of both hawk parents in the nest with the chicks.  They fill the entire visual.

Brian alters his image sizes to enhance the pacing, small pictures with uneven shapes, single page pictures and breathtaking two-page visuals.  He takes us close to the action (You don't know whether to cheer for the hawk or his prey.) and then gives us a panoramic outlook.  When you look at those landscape vistas, you can't help but feel as though you are flying side by side with Father Hawk.

One of my many favorite illustrations spans two pages.  Father Hawk has just missed getting the chipmunk.  He takes flight, rising higher and higher.  Brian has pictured him turning so we see the underside of his body, legs tucked back by his red tail.  Beneath him are neighborhood homes and the street.  On the right the girl stands in her backyard watching the hawk.  Her sister stands on the porch.  The hawk in the foreground takes up half of each page on either side of the gutter.  The homes are much smaller to his left and right.  

Today (Sunday) as I worked in the yard and even later as the sun was setting, I kept looking to the sky hoping to see the elegance described so eloquently in Hawk Rising written by Maria Gianferrari with illustrations by Brian Floca.  The more we and our children look to those animals sharing this planet with us, the more our lives are enriched.  I highly recommend the placement of this title in your personal and professional collections.  

To learn more about Maria Gianferrari and Brian Floca and their other work, please visit their respective websites by following the links attached to their names.  Both Maria and Brian have Facebook accounts.  They (Maria and Brian) also have Instagram accounts.  Brian Floca does have a blog and can be found on Twitter.  Two other places where Hawk Rising is being celebrated are Miss Marple's Musings and PictureBookBuilders.  Maria Gianferrari is interviewed at both spots.  At As The Eraser Burns Maria chats about her craft and all kinds of other things in a Q & A.  Maria is showcased at Reading for Research featuring ReFoReMo.  To view interior images please visit the publisher's website. 

THERE'S A GIVEAWAY!

  

UPDATE:  Author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson features Brian and his art on Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.

Of Celebrating Elephant Seals, Caldecott Winners and Birthdays

As teacher librarian at Charlevoix Elementary School I had the pleasure of working with an outstanding educator named Sara Jonker.   Sara frequented the library on a regular basis, her love of books and reading obvious.  She often talked about her brother-in-law, a teacher librarian in another district downstate.

When I began seriously blogging in the summer of 2010, I searched for other blogs to read on a daily basis.  One of the blogs I selected was that of Sara's brother-in-law, Travis Jonker.  At 100 Scope Notes (which has since relocated under the umbrella of School Library Journal) readers can always be sure of insightful, candid, witty and worthwhile commentary on the world of children's literature.  Travis sees details others might miss.

Last year Travis was one of the members of the 2014 Caldecott Award committee. Tomorrow evening he and hundreds of others will be in attendance at the Newbery-Caldecott Banquet during the annual American Library Association conference in Las Vegas, Nevada.  Everyone will cheer for the medalists and honorees, but Travis will have the unique distinction of being one of the people who chose Locomotive written and illustrated by Brian Floca as the medalist, Journey written and illustrated by Aaron Beck as an honoree, Flora and the Flamingo written and illustrated by Molly Idle as an honoree, and Mr. Wuffles! written and illustrated by David Wiesner as an honoree.

Today is Travis Jonker's birthday.  I am sending him sincerest wishes for one of the best birthdays ever and, of course, many, many more.  To help him celebrate the day I am reviewing one of the newly illustrated books by Brian Floca which was released last month.


Quirks of nature, those things which defy explanation, make for the best stories, especially when they are true.  When animals choose to place themselves closer to humans, rather than remain in their normal habitat, it is newsworthy.  More than twenty years ago, an elephant seal decided to make the waters of Christchurch, New Zealand her residence.  Elizabeth, Queen of the Seas (Schwartz & Wade, an imprint of Random House Children's Books) written by Lynne Cox with illustrations by Brian Floca is her story.

There was once a lovely elephant seal who lived in the city.  

If you were to visit Christchurch, New Zealand, you would see the Avon River moving beautifully on the west side of the city; a small portion of land separating it from the southern Pacific Ocean.  Elizabeth, as she was named by the city residents, made this river her home.  You could see her floating along in the water, resting on the shore and covering herself with mud to keep cool.

Every day on his way to and from school, a boy named Michael would seek out Elizabeth calling her by name if he saw her.  She in turn would give him a glance before snorting.  On one particular morning the friendly seal felt the need to bask in the sun on the warm two-lane road.  As you can imagine after several near collisions Elizabeth moved her considerable bulk, twelve hundred pounds, back to the river.

This became the talk of the town; causing worry for Elizabeth and motorists.  It was decided to tow her far away down the river, out to sea and away from harm.  Michael, on his way to school, was not happy to see this.

Elizabeth was not content in the company of other elephant seals on the crowded ocean beach.  Making her way across the ocean and into the familiar river, Elizabeth once more could be seen sunning herself on the city street.  Joyfully, Michael greeted her.

Not once, but twice more this lovable, determined elephant seal was towed farther and farther away.  Each time she returned to what she knew as home.  Each time Michael and the people of the city welcomed her.  What they finally did was visible proof of their affection.


In her debut children's book, author and internationally recognized long distance swimmer, Lynne Cox writes with skill and the sure knowledge she has a story people will want to hear.  In an introductory author's note she explains how two children told her the tale which she has now passed on to her readers.  Empathy, an understanding, for Elizabeth is generated in her narrative.  Use of repetitive phrases at the beginning and end and each time Michael sees the elephant seal, bind us to this fascinating account.  Here is a portion of the passage where Cox explains how Elizabeth got her name.

...  She was eight feet long--as long as a surfboard---and she weighed twelve hundred pounds---as much as fifteen Labrador retrievers.  The people of Christchurch knew there was something very special about her.  ...


Using pen-and-ink and watercolor throughout, Brian Floca endears us to Elizabeth instantly on the dust jacket and book case; looking directly at us on the front as she comes up for air and gliding by on the Avon River on the back.  The same meticulous care we see in any Floca illustration is apparent in this title.  His depiction of Elizabeth is realistic in its details of her physical characteristics; the eyes, shape of the mouth, tiny hairs above her eyes and whiskers.

His color palette is a reflection of the natural world---blues, greens and yellows prominent on each page.  There is a lightness and golden quality to the pictures; enhancing the heartwarming tone of Cox's writing.  Elizabeth is featured in the center of a blue green sea with a cloud-filled sky above her on the opening and closing endpapers.  Seagulls and a small map of New Zealand decorate the verso page.

Beginning with a gorgeous two page spread of Elizabeth in the Avon River, highlighting the city activity along both banks, Floca alters his illustration sizes with each page turn.  Smaller insets with loose, rounded borders, edge to edge full pages and more breathtaking double page visuals persuade readers to pause and pace themselves.  One of my many favorite pictures is of Elizabeth, Queen of the Seas returning for the final time to the river, citizens lining the bridge as she passes beneath it.  It portrays the pure joy felt by everyone.


You cannot read Elizabeth, Queen of the Seas by Lynne Cox with illustrations by Brian Floca without feeling the happiness of this true story.  It's a wonderful book to share with children and students who may know nothing about elephant seals, New Zealand or this particular story.  I am thankful to both Lynne Cox and Brian Floca for bringing this to our attention in their delightful collaboration.  I think this would pair nicely with another nonfiction book, Wild Animal Neighbors: Sharing Our Urban World (Twenty-First Century Books, a division of Lerner Publishing Group Inc., August 1, 2013) by Ann Downer.

Please follow the links embedded in Lynne Cox's and Brian Floca's names to access their websites.  Here is a link to an interview of Lynne Cox at Watch. Connect. Read., the blog hosted by teacher librarian John Schumacher.  Julie Danielson features Brian Floca, including many images from this book during his illustrative process, on her blog, Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  Here is the link to an article about Elizabeth, Memories of Avon River's sea elephant you can find when searching on the Internet.  This link will take you to the publisher's website where you can see several pages inside the book.

Money-Making Mayhem

There's no surprises quite like the surprises one encounters when taking care of another person's animal friend.  Many years ago I was watching my sister's new Labrador puppy for several days.  Safely gated with items given to me by my sister, food dish, water bowl and bean bag lounger for comfy naps, I was shocked to return home from the school library at lunch to see tiny white balls covering my kitchen floor.  In true puppy fashion he had chewed big holes in his bed.  It wasn't too much later when my question as to whether he had eaten any of the stuffing was answered on our evening walk.

Three years ago a lively third grade character was introduced to readers in Marty McGuire.  It was followed a year later by Marty McGuire digs worms!  I am happy to report a third title in the series has been released; Marty McGuire has too many pets! written by Kate Messner with illustrations by Brian Floca.

"How long until we get there?"
"It's just down the road," Dad says, "and please stop kicking my seat."
"Sorry." I put my feet down and try to keep them still. I don't mean to be a seat kicker, but it's hard when you've been in the car for an hour and you are going to see real live chimpanzees.   

Marty and her best friend, Annie, are riding with her parents to a chimpanzee sanctuary.  Marty's mom has been selected to work there for the upcoming week.  During the visit there Marty discovers you can adopt (sponsor) a chimp.

Before they've barely begun the trip home, the two girls are thinking of ways to raise money.  Their first idea is to collect money for the upcoming third grade talent show.  Making a spur of the moment decision during a visit to the school library the next day, Marty announces she has a pet-sitting business to the librarian, Ms. Stephanie.

On the way home, Annie agrees to the plan.  How hard can it be to babysit an African hedgehog named Lady Macbeth and two goldfish called Mango and Puck?  Of course there are two tiny little problems with this plan; Marty needs to get her Grandma Joyce's and her Dad's permission.  Grandma Joyce, her Dad's mother, is fairly conservative in her ideas but a great cookie maker...and a whiz at tuna casserole.  She's helping out for the week.

Though hesitant her grandmother says if her Dad gives it the thumbs up, it's fine with her.  Marty asks her Dad during the middle of a captivating Red Sox game on TV as he jumps up on the sofa.  Of course he says yes.

Her passion for the chimps (and pets) growing, Marty and Annie decide to increase their income by posting flyers around the school.  As the weekend approaches Mr. Klein, the custodian, is bringing his parrot, Rocky, whose language is less than appropriate, Mrs. Grimes, the principal, is bringing her two hamsters, Fluffernutter and Houdini, and a first-grade student has left her slug in the care of Marty and company.  The group of sitters has grown by three, Rupert, Alex and Rasheena. Meanwhile, Grandma Joyce and Marty's Dad have no idea how the business is expanding.  You'd be amazed (or maybe not) how creative third graders can be.

The real shock is when the lunch lady, Mrs. Baxter brings her pet.  It is definitely not a hermit crab.  Bitsy is huge!  Things quickly begin to unravel when pets start to disappear.

Adding in the daily practices at school for the upcoming talent show, burping to the ABC Song, how to saw a board, playing The Birthday Song on a recorder and how to score a hockey goal, to Marty's already hectic life gives a pretty clear picture of laugh-out-loud chaos.  Readers will wonder if the confessions have come too late for adult intervention.  Then again, Marty has a stellar support system of all ages.  She also has a heart of purest gold.


Kate Messner continues to fascinate readers with one more spirited episode in the life of Marty McGuire. Marty and the people in her life are wonderfully normal.  The conversations, the dialogue, between them are brimming with a richness based upon each of their fully-realized personalities.

Descriptions of the daily activities in Marty's third-grade classroom are spot-on; as any educator or student will attest.  Scenes depicted in Marty's home provide illuminating insights into family and friendship dynamics.  Here are a couple of examples.

But somebody didn't, so the cricket lid goes flying off the jar and rolls under Isabel's desk, and crickets start hopping everywhere.
Mrs. Aloi dives for the maracas on her desk and shakes them like crazy. "Everybody! Get those crickets!"
Everyone stops being talented and drops to the floor to chase crickets.  When we finally get the last one back in the jar, Mrs. Aloi screws on the top super tight and sinks into her chair.
"That was awesome!" Jimmy Lawson says. "Hey! We should do cricket catching as a class talent.  We could let them all go onstage and then---"

"Grandma, please don't---"
"Get moving, kids!" she hollers down the stairs. "It's time for school!"
For a couple of seconds, nobody answers.  Then Rocky breaks the quiet. 
"Back off!" he screeches.
No, no, no, I think.
But he squawks that bad parking-lot word up the stairs, clear as can be.
Grandma Joyce turns slowly toward me.  Her voice is super calm. Scary calm.  "What. Did. I. Just. Hear?"
"That...was   Alex,"   I say.
Grandma's eyebrows go up so high they disappear into her gray curls.  


The finishing touch is the black and white pictures rendered by 2014 Caldecott Medalist (Locomotive) Brian Floca.  Alternating between full page and partial page illustrations he deftly depicts the actions, people and scenes extending the narrative.  He is able to convey a range of emotions with the slightest lines.  Readers will hardly be able to contain their laughter on more than one occasion.


Marty McGuire has too many pets! written by Kate Messner with illustrations by Brian Floca is as fresh, spirited and humorous as its predecessors.  Marty McGuire is a girl who knows what she wants, going after it with the purposeful passion singular in boys and girls her age.  Readers will fall in love with her all over again.

Links to the author's and illustrator's official websites are embedded in their names. By clicking on the three titles at Kate Messner's site you can get more information about each of them.  Here is a link to a short post about this book at Brian Floca's blog.  John Schumacher, school librarian and Colby Sharp, third grade teacher, have chosen Marty McGuire has too many pets! for one of their April titles for the #SharpSchu Book Club on Twitter. Follow the link to get the evening's schedule.

Coast To Coast

With so many Western television shows airing when I was growing up, it's no wonder I feel an attachment to that particular era in history.  There usually seemed to be significant happenings with the arrival or departure of trains, not to mention the perils of traveling by rail.  Who wouldn't dream of riding on the train featured prominently in The Wild, Wild West?

One can only imagine the wonder people felt with the completion of the transcontinental railroad; reaching the Pacific coast from the East without having to journey by foot, on the back of an animal or in a wagon pulled by them.  The pleasure of being able to enjoy the country you were passing through without all the responsibilities must have been (still is) like a sliver of heaven.  Brian Floca's Locomotive (A Richard Jackson Book, Atheneum Book for Young Readers, September 3, 2013), the recipient of five starred reviews, takes us back in time to 1869 for a trip on the recently completed line from Omaha, Nebraska to Sacramento, California.

HERE IS A ROAD
made for crossing the country,
a new road of rails
made for people to ride.

Before starting to journey down that road we are given a brief look at the men who helped build this cross-country connection, of the work they needed to do and how they did it.  A family waits at the station, everything sold, owning only what they can carry, for the locomotive to arrive, cars strung out behind.  Amid the noise, the puffs of smoke, the colorful iron horse with her crew comes into view.

Before leaving the station, we get a peek inside the cab, where the fireman feeds coal into the firebox and the engineer pushes and pulls an assortment of levers to make the locomotive begin to move.  As Engine 23 hauls the passenger-filled cars down the tracks, the engineer rides and guides the machine with an experienced hand.  Miles pass and views change, The Platte River Valley, The Great Plains.  Inside the cars, tickets are taken, goods are sold, and people settle in for the ride.

Stopping at stations along the way, the tender tank is filled with water, people eat at the railroad restaurant and engines and their crews are exchanged.  As night falls, depending on your class, beds are made by porters or you get comfortable next to your seatmate.  When the sun rises the next morning, the landscape is changing, necessitating the need for an additional engine.  There are mountains to climb.

As the train chugs down the tracks, crossing narrow wooden bridges, landmarks whizzing by, the fireman and engineer give great care to their charge.  A mistake could cause a derailment or an explosion.  Finally the highest point is reached, the meeting of the two railroads, the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific, at Promontory Summit, Utah Territory.  A wood consuming engine replaces the coal-feed locomotive.

Traveling across, down and up deserts, valleys and mountains, some more famous than others, Donner Pass, under structures to keep snow off the tracks and through dark tunnels, the locomotive goes carrying precious cargo toward its destination. Down, down, it journeys, wheels spinning, brakes at the ready, easing up on the steam, to slow and stop.  Its mission is accomplished; a vision made into a reality.


It's easy to recognize the research necessary to pen a narrative such as Brian Floca has done in Locomotive.  Every passage speaks to and seeks to inform the reader.  A rhythm has been generated by his word selections; we hear the sounds of hammers pounding in spikes, smoke steaming from the engine, the whistle announcing the locomotive's plans.  Vivid descriptions of what the crew does and feels as well as the passengers' daily routines on this trip, give readers a true sense of being in the same experience.  With sensory language Floca describes the scenery in all its wild, western splendor.  Here are a couple of examples.

The hours and miles roll by.

The country opens,
opens wide,
empty as an ocean.

Smell the switchgrass and the bluestem,
hot beneath the sun.

Here the bison used to roam,
by the hundreds, by the millions.

Up, up, the engines climb.
If the rails are slick,
if the wheels won't catch,
the engineers can pull a handle
to drop some sand
down a tube, onto the tracks.
The wheels hit the grit,
the traction does the trick!

Up, up---
through spruce and pines,
past mills and mines...


Rendered in watercolor, ink, acrylic and gouache, the intricate, meticulous illustrations filled with life and emotion of Brian Floca call out to readers with every single element of the book.  You can almost hear the engine huffing and chugging down the track toward you on the front jacket or imagine the relative silence except for the voices of workers as they maintain an engine in the yard on the back jacket.  Removing the jacket, a breathtaking vista of the plains covered with buffalo, what it must have been like before the railroad's presence, greets readers.  You could study the opening and closing endpapers for hours; maps, small delicate pictures, recreations of railroad timetables, an explanation of steam power and a cross-section of an locomotive.  They're an amazing depiction done in a softened palette of realistic colors with prevalent browns and golden shades.

The title page features an introduction to the family who travels toward their husband and father through a photograph, a telegraph message, and several Trans-Continental Railroad Guides.   Floca's illustrations spread edge to edge across double or single pages, wrapping around or highlighting the text.  When appropriate small visuals draw attention to a particular portion of his narrative.  The changes in text size and placement serve to further engage readers in being a part of this particular past; a past well-worth visiting.  The hand-written labels for places is the perfect touch, like reading the front of a postcard.  Two of my favorite illustrations are of the locomotive traveling through The Platte River Valley, with the side and front view of moving down the tracks, and the close-up of the locomotive departing from the station in the dead of night.


Locomotive written and illustrated by Brian Floca is a work of art in every sense of the word.  The blend of text and illustrations is seamless inviting readers to read it again and again gaining some new piece of information or perspective each time.  It's not only a book to be read for the words and pictures but also for the texture of the pages, thick matte finished paper, giving one the feeling of holding history.

To access Brian Floca's website follow the link embedded in his name above.  This link is to a series of illustrations and sketches for the book prior to its release.  To read about the research involved in creating this title, follow this link to Kirkus where Brian Floca speaks with Julie Danielson.  At the publisher's website are more visuals from the book.  Brian Floca has an extensive author's note and bibliographic information at the end of this title.  Here is a link to an extensive curriculum guide.