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When love and skill work together, expect a miracle. John Ruskin




Showing posts with label Corinna Luyken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Corinna Luyken. Show all posts

Friday, December 3, 2021

Better Together #5

When individuals are confronted with an unfavorable situation, they want to remedy the circumstances as soon as possible or at the very least, ensure the same incident is not repeated.  Moving forward on a new path is often challenging.  In fact, the first step is often the hardest.

To hear a voice offering encouragement gives you strength.  To find someone willing to shoulder the work with you is inspiring.  To know you are not alone adds a lightness to your soul.  Change Sings: A Children's Anthem (Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, September 21, 2021) written by the youngest presidential inaugural poet in the United States of America, Amanda Gorman, with artwork by Loren Long is a beautiful portrait guaranteed to encourage, inspire and bring the lightness to every soul who savors the words and images.  Each reader, of all ages, will understand their destiny to make a difference for the good of all.  No action, however small, will fail to offer a positive impact. 

I can hear change humming
in its loudest, proudest song.

I don't fear change coming,
And so I sing along.

This song is not soft, but strong.  The narrator screams and dreams.  What is done, again and again, fuels hope.

They join voices across our planet, past and present.  They offer help to those who need it the most.   They are staunch in their support of others who seek change.

For those who do not understand, a compassionate person asks them to join in the song.  Being right is never wrong.  Working together constructs sturdy structures for all to enjoy.

Countries of origin are recognized.  Those things which seem to imply distinctions are doors into similarities.  Like poets and songwriters of the past, this narrator realizes real change begins in each individual.  When that thinking shifts inside us, we sow it.  We release it into the world and grow love.


When you read these words written by Amanda Gorman, you don't know if you should do so silently or break into song, so you do both, separately and then together.  Each rhyming sentence adds a layer, building from a single soul to many.  We know this because the sentence beginnings alter from "I" to "We" with the concluding pages.  Here is another couplet.

I hum with a hundred hearts,
Each of us lifting a hand.

I use my strengths and my smarts,
Take a knee to make a stand.  


Rendered 

by hand on illustration board, using acrylics and colored pencil

these pictures by Loren Long we first see on the open and matching dust jacket and book case radiate in a rich color palette. The image spans from the left edge on the back and continues to the right edge on the front.  The pieces of color on the wall behind the main character are like stained glass alluding to the sun, its rays and the symbolic rings of rainbow colors.  The girl's face shows an open expression.  In her hands, the guitar is offered to readers as an invitation. The text on the front and on the back is varnished.  The text on the back is the first two sentences of the anthem.

A sunshine yellow covers the opening and closing endpapers.  On the title page, between the text, a tuba, tambourine and drum sticks rest in grass.  The first image spans two pages.  A crisp white background provides the perfect space for us to meet the girl again as she sits strumming her guitar.

With each page turn, Loren Long supplies readers with his pictorial interpretation of the words.  It is a journey, double-page illustration, by double-page illustration, from the girl to another child and then to another child.  With each meeting a new instrument is given to the new character.  We get a real sense of something growing.

We see the children cleaning up litter on a playground, feeding someone on the street, delivering groceries in a red wagon to those who cannot get their own, building a ramp for a child in a wheelchair, and cleaning up a storefront in their city.  The children represent a range of ethnicity with endearing expressions.  Their faces amid each setting glow with confidence and anticipation.  They believe they are making a difference.  They are.

One of my many favorite illustrations is a paved basketball court in the city.  We are looking down on the scene.  Basketball hoops are positioned on either side of the image.  Chalk hopscotch boards are below each of them.  Other chalk drawings are featured on the left and right.  Chalk is scattered on the left near a bucket of chalk.  In white a large outline of the continental United States spreads from basketball hoop to basketball hoop.  Inside this outline is the girl with the guitar.  She is handing a trombone to a boy who was playing basketball.  With her is the reluctant boy with his dog, now holding a trumpet, the boy wearing a religious hat with the tuba, and a girl in a wheelchair holding a drum and accompanying sticks.  This illustration is for a single sentence.

I talk not only of distances,
From where and how we came.

What a wonderful representation of those words and a beautiful lead to the next two sentences and a joyful visual.


No matter how many times you read, Change Sings: A Children's Anthem by Amanda Gorman with pictures by Loren Long, and believe me you will read it repeatedly, you will find a promise of great things in these pages. You will hum, sing and share this title.  Be sure to have a copy on your personal bookshelves and professional bookshelves.  Gift it to someone often.

To learn more about Amanda Gorman and Loren Long and their other work, please follow the link attached to their names to access their websites.  Amanda Gorman has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  Loren Long has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  At the publisher's website, you can view interior pages and are offered a teacher's guide.





When something bad happens to us as individuals or to other individuals or groups, a range of emotions wash over us.  We are stunned.  We are deeply saddened.  We want to know what we can do.  Something Good (Little, Brown And Company, October 19, 2021) written by Marcy Campbell with artwork by Corinna Luyken addresses this kind of occurrence.  It follows the response of students and staff at a personal and group level.  It offers a positive answer for change.

The day the custodian found the bad-something
on the bathroom wall, all the girls from Mr. Gilbert's
class were called into the principal's office.

As Principal Martinez addresses the girls, there is a mixture of responses.  She states in no uncertain terms:

"This kind of thing won't be tolerated at our school."

Even though told not to enter the bathroom, four girls do, curious about the bad-something.  The four girls were overwhelmed by what they saw.  There was silence, anger, tears, and a flight.

The locked bathroom created a detour for the girls.  The bad-something had students looking at other students.  Who would do this?  In a short amount of time everyone knew what the bad-something was, including parents.  Their reactions, like the girls, were mixed.  In the following days, the bad-something changed everyone, not always for the good.

Principal Martinez called an all-school assembly speaking the same words as she did to the girls in Mr. Gilbert's class.  Students were given buttons with ribbons in their school colors to remind them of what their school represented.  Mr. Gilbert had a plan, too.

He spoke with his students as they all sat in a circle.  Paint, brushes, and freedom of expression were given to the students as they entered the bathroom where the bad-something was found.  Brush stroke by brush stroke the wall and the students were transformed, each contribution forming a wonderful whole.  It was so beautiful, they continued for days, until they were amazed at their achievement.  Painting, then poetry, healed a room full of students, a school full of individuals deciding to make a difference.


Through her words, Marcy Campbell presents an intimate view of an intolerable event.  Her first-person narrator brings us clearly and with intention into each moment of the evolving situation.  We experience it with all the girls, the four girls, the entire student body, and with Mr. Gilbert's students.  The thoughts and actions of the students are described with realism and a keen aptitude for the behavior of children in this position. Here is a passage.

We missed the days
before the bad-something
appeared, because everything
was different now.  Some of us
felt worried or confused or sad
or angry.  No one felt nothing.


With a limited color palette and her signature artwork, Corinna Luyken gives readers on the front of the dust jacket a foreshadowing of the good something the students and their teacher create together.  The predominant presence of yellow and the facial expressions on all the individuals suggest determination and a lightening of their spirits.  On the back, to the left of the spine, is a display of three paint cans, yellow, teal, and rose.  The colors in each rise like mist, erasing the bad-something.  In the upper, right-hand corner are the words

The bad-something
has no place here.

On the book case, on either side of the spine, is a two-page interior picture.  It shows in greater detail ten students painting an array of elements on the wall.  On the far right one student is on a ladder as the other one steadies it.  There are rosy flowers among dark teal leaves, dragons, a school, handprints, the sun and a row of people in pink along the bottom of the wall.

On the opening endpapers is the wall in the girl's bathroom.  The bad-something has been painted over by the custodian in a dull color.  On the closing endpapers we see how the students and their teacher remade the wall.  On the left-hand side is the dedication and publication information.  If you turn back a page, the title page is on the right and an author's note is on the left.  By placing this information at the back, the narrative is given greater importance.  The bad-something is never shown to readers.

The illustrations for this book were done in gouache, colored pencil, and ink on paper.  They are two-page visuals with shifting perspectives for dramatic emphasis.  While there is an overall feeling of softness when looking at these pictures, almost like chalk smudging, the linework is distinctive.  The faces on the children are highly revealing.  Each time you turn a page, it is like an emotional jolt, heartfelt and true.

One of my many favorite pictures is when Mr. Gilbert is seated in a circle with the students as he explains their art project.  These twenty-five children are actively engaged.  They know change is happening.  They know they are going to be a part of the change.  Most are leaning in with their heads raised.  Several have their eyes closed. We can see those without their backs to us wearing their ribbon pins.  The people are awash in pink, a bit of yellow and white.  Their hair and faces display a variety of ethnicity.  In front of Mr. Gilbert are paint brushes and rollers.


Sometimes when we seek a silver lining, we have to make it.  In Something Good written by Marcy Campbell with pictures by Corinna Luyken, that is exactly what Mr. Gilbert and his students do.  As Marcy Campbell states in her author's note, this book is the result of personal knowledge.  What happens in this school is only one solution.  This title is certain to promote discussions on an individual or group basis.  I highly recommend it for your personal and professional collections.

By accessing the websites of Marcy Campbell and Corinna Luyken by following the link attached to their names, you can learn more about them and their other work.  Marcy Campbell has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  Corinna Luyken has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  At the publisher's website is a video chat with the illustrator about this book and a two-page Teaching Tips document. At Mel Schuit's Let's Talk Picture Books, there is a short video showing the book case.  At author, reviewer, and blogger Julie Danielson's Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast this title is showcased.  There are many pieces of art, process and final to view.



Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Rooted In Strength

Inside every individual runs a current of confidence.   This current can meander slowly with barely a ripple.  It can rage like rapids running through mountains.  Whether it is small and silent or large and loud, it is always there.  

Perhaps, the source of this current is the same for all individuals.  It is feed from multiple sources, some are tiny, others are beyond our senses.  The Tree In Me (Dial Books for Young Readers, March 16, 2021) written and illustrated by Corinna Luyken is a luminescent, melodic observation of that sustaining and binding force inside all of us.

The tree in me

is part apple,

It is not just part apple, but it is parts of other fruits and nuts.  It also tastes delicious.  The tree provides a place of cool and calm.  The tree provides a space of warmth and energy.  

This tree can be many things.  It is beginnings in seeds.  It is endings (and continuations) in stumps.  In between starting and stopping, it is a source of endless explorations and imaginations.  Many call it home.

From the tree comes gifts around it, under it and above it.  Close your eyes and reach out with your mind.  What do you see, feel, hear, taste or smell near the tree?  

This tree is solid, but able to bow when necessary.  It draws its strength from deep roots and a full crown.  It reaches to other trees, to their roots and crowns.  This is true.  You!


Every time the words penned by Corinna Luyken are read, it is as if you are being rocked in the serenity and security of a bed shaped of tree boughs.  The rhythm fashioned by the comparisons is a lasting lullaby.  In these seven beautifully formed sentences, a world within us is revealed. It is a shared world.  Here are some more words in the first sentence.

The tree in me

is part apple,

part orange-pear-almond-plum

(part yummm),  


When you open the dust jacket, the loveliness of the unfolding scene leaves you breathless before you softly gasp in awe and appreciation.  The portion of the crown shown on the right, front, with the child reaching for the fruit, extends over the spine and to the far-left side on the back. From the bottom of the left, slightly off center, is a thick sturdy tree trunk stretching over the spine.  From that trunk, two smaller branches grow, each covered in a gorgeous array of foliage.  The lush color palette of vivid pink, blue hues, golden yellows, and brown here is used throughout the book.  

On the book case the child has moved to nestle within a fork in a tree, other sturdy branches stretching to the top and left.  The crown covers the setting like an umbrella, across the top and down the left side.  In the fork on the right, above the child, a huge sun shines.  It's like a gigantic piece of fruit.  (You could look at this image all day.)

The same shades of color appear on the opening and closing endpapers.  The leaves are much closer to us.  It is like we are looking up at them, watching as light radiates down through the growth.

On the title page, the tree stands tall slightly right of the gutter, branches and crown spreading left and right over two pages.  The child stands in the field of flowers to the left of the tree, looking up at the fruit.

Each breathtaking illustration

was created using gouache, pencil, and ink.

These two-page pictures by Corinna Luyken bring us close to the child, inviting us into each experience.  Sometimes, the focus steps back broadening our vision.  We see more of the tree and its partners.  We see more children.  As their shared joy grows, so does our joy.  The blend of tiny details and larger brush strokes builds each enchanting moment, moments of discovery, growth, understanding, and connection.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations has the crown of the tree across the top.  Along the bottom is a presentation of grasses and flowers.  Both are in the same arresting hues.  The trunk and its roots begin in the lower, left corner moving toward the gutter.  On the right, hanging from staunch ropes is a large tire swing.  It is horizontal providing seating for three children.  They gleefully spin, heads back in happiness and contentment.


Uplifting, thoughtful, and inspiring through words, artwork, and impeccable pacing, The Tree In Me written and illustrated by Corinna Luyken is a book to read repeatedly.  I know it will promote rich musings you will want to share with others.  You need this title in your personal and professional collections.  Share it widely.  Gift it.

To learn more about Corinna Luyken and her other work, please visit her website by following the link attached to her name.  Corinna Luyken has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  This book is showcased with an interview by Scholastic's Ambassador of School Libraries, John Schumacher, on his site, Watch. Connect. Read.

Friday, January 11, 2019

Constantly Changing

For most beings it beats out a cadence of life.  It comes in all shapes and sizes. If broken, it may be mended.  It's capacity for collecting (or not) is far greater than its physical size would indicate.

We store many things in our hearts, some tiny and some enormous.  An attached significance determines its prominence.  My Heart (Dial Books for Young Readers, Penguin Young Readers Group, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, January 8, 2019) written and illustrated by Corinna Luyken (The Book of Mistakes) explores the assorted aspects of listening to, following and tending our hearts.

My heart is a window,
my heart is a slide.
My heart can be closed
or opened up wide.

At times our hearts are vast and other times, they appear as a much smaller version of the first.  They even get heavy and shrink as small as the smallest seed.  When this happens, we need to remember what happens to the smallest of the small seeds.  They can blossom into something spectacular.

Our hearts may separate us far from others.  Sometimes the sound of our hearts is a mere breath of the tiniest breeze.; only those closest to us can hear.  If our hearts should shatter, we should pick up the pieces and make it whole.

Our hearts follow us but also lead us.  They do not leave us.  We are inseparable.


Ten sentences, ten simple but profound sentences, portray and reveal how our hearts reflect us.  Corinna Luyken uses rhyming words at sentence ends to welcome us into her book and to invite us to think about our own hearts. With her use of language, she asks us to listen, learn and accept.  Take a few minutes to reread her first two sentences.  Can you think how these apply to you?


We are introduced to the limited color palette selected by Corinna Luyken when viewing the open dust jacket.  Yellow, white, and shades of gray and black elevate the impact of the carefully chosen words in the narrative.  The grassy scene peppered with tiny yellow heart-shaped flowers extends to each flap edge.  On the flaps there is a profusion of blooms.

On the book case large brush strokes of yellow on white move over the spine, left to right, only to disburse, to the right and top, like a flock of heart-shaped birds.  Strong charcoal gray, almost black, makes a large border on the bottom of the opening and closing endpapers.  A wide expanse of white and pale gray spreads above it.

On the first endpapers, a bespectacled boy squats in front of a hole, holding a heart-shaped plant.  An empty pot is next to the hole.  Two other flowers are planted.  A fourth waits.  On the closing endpapers four flowers flourish, their tiny-tendril roots visible and flowing beneath the surface.

A gorgeous double-page picture focuses on a third child, a girl, standing on steps, holding a watering can.  Spread before her on the title and verso pages is a garden cloaked in yellow.  These illustrations by Corinna Luyken rendered with

a print-making process called monotype, using water-based ink and pencil

each span two pages.  The hues of the colors blend, moving from light to dark and dark to light, accentuating the textual descriptions.  Readers will be examining each image for hearts.  Some are substantial, and others are minute.  All will be happy to see a diverse cast of characters featured.

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

my heart is a slide.

A slide arches upward, the ladder forming one side of the top of a heart.  It drops to the ground, forming the point.  The shadow, on the grass, completes the shape.  Two children are near the ladder; another is poised to slide at the top.  A faint yellow surrounds him/her.  The point of the slide/heart goes into a yellow glow.  Genius.


If you want a book offering hope, championing the right to choose and ringing out all the characteristics of our hearts, My Heart written and illustrated by Corinna Luyken is that book. It envelopes you in wisdom and calm.  You could pair it with Love and Love, Z for a thematic story time or bedtime.  I know readers will want to share examples of the workings of their hearts.  I highly recommend this title for your professional and personal collections.

To learn more about Corinna Luyken and her other work, please follow the links attached to her names to access her website and blog.  Corinna Luyken maintains accounts on Twitter and Instagram.  Corinna chats with Scholastic's Ambassador of School Libraries, John Schumacher, on his blog, Watch. Connect. Read.  Corinna is also interviewed at Brightly and Mile High Reading, a site maintained by Dylan Teut, director for the Plum Creek Children's Literacy Festival in Seward, Nebraska.

UPDATE:  Corinna Luyken is a featured guest at author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson, Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Finding Extraordinary In Errors

There are those days when no matter what you do, little or big, it simply does not turn out correctly.  The harder you try, the worse it gets.  You start looking over your shoulder to see if an evil goblin is following you, sending a dark aura in your direction.  Sometimes when you think it couldn't get any worse, it does but sometimes when you think it couldn't get any worse, something wonderful happens.

A shift takes place.  You start to find the marvel in the middle of your muddles. The Book of Mistakes (Dial Books for Young Readers, April 18, 2017) debut book for author illustrator Corinna Luyken is an exploration of turning blunders into beauty.

It started
with one mistake.

An eye is a little bit bigger than the other eye on a face.  Trying to make them match does not work but adding glasses is exactly what this girl needs.  Oh, oh!  Now her arms and neck are too, too long.  The collar and elbows receive a bit of embellishment.

A big bush is brilliant at concealing the odd being.  What is that creature?  It has parts of three animals.

The girl returns but is floating as she runs.  Ah...the addition of roller skates closes the gap between the bottom of her feet and the ground.  What is hidden behind the newly drawn rock? 

A longer than normal leg is perfect for tree climbing.  Smudges become soaring leaves.  And the girl running with roller skates is on a mission to make a delivery heading toward other like-minded children.  A magnificent scene greets her but readers there is much more.

Stepping back reveals a larger than imagined wonder.  Stepping back more alters your point-of-view with expectations growing until you gasp in understanding.  The power of the mind is a creative force.  Use it.


Those first five words written by Corinna Luyken immediately click with all readers.  We have all made mistakes.  With spare text the narrator talks to us about the process of making art.  We gently swing between mistakes and transformations supplying the story with a cadence. We explore the possibilities offered to us by our errors.  It's an optimistic and inventive outlook.  Here is a sample sentence.

Even the ink smudges
scattered across the sky

look as if 
they could be leaves---

like they'd always wanted
to be lifted up

and carried.


The remarkable use of white space throughout this title begins on the dust jacket.  The soft pastel palette and intricate lines create an atmosphere filled with a little bit of magic.  Already we are wondering about the girl with the yellow balloons and the other children with her.  To the left, on the back, a small boy in the lower, left-hand corner gazes up at smudges turned into leaves.  The text here reads

Set your imagination free

On the opened book case, on the right side, the front image shows the girl and the children flying away from us, higher in the sky.  On the left the boy is now riding a unicycle lifted by a large green balloon.  Three small birds follow the children.  On the opening endpapers all we see are two black ink blots.  The closing endpapers could be a continuation of part of the artwork.  What will you think when you see them?

Rendered in black ink, colored pencils, and watercolor the pictures appearing on the white canvas vary in size and perspective as we journey, contrasting the mistakes and the inspired new illustrations from them.  With each page turn the details increase, allowing us to see how pictures develop when we look with new eyes.  As we move from one subject to another, the original girl, the bush, the rock and the girl in the tree we get the sense something larger is being shaped.  

One of my many favorite illustrations spans two pages, without words (in fact five page turns have no words).  The girl is running with her skates toward the right edge.  In her left hand she is carrying a single yellow balloon.  In her right hand is a huge bunch of yellow balloons billowing out behind her and filling the left page. 


I think it would be fantastic if every child could have a copy of this book, The Book of Mistakes written and illustrated by Corinna Luyken, to remind them how we can turn the unexpected into a thing of wonder.  If we can't carry this book with us everywhere we should read it enough so the memory will help us to look at everything as a potential for goodness instead of a problem.  I highly recommend this title.

To learn more about Corinna Luyken and this book, please visit her website by following the link attached to her name.  There are little extras there for you.  Corinna maintains a blog here.  Be sure to read these interviews at author, teacher librarian and blogger Carter Higgins's Design Of The Picture Book and author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson's Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.