A Place To Call...

My fireplace mantle this morning.

Whether it's at the end of a walk on a forest trail, the end of a day of teaching or the end of an extended journey, walking through the doors of my home has an immediate calming effect.  It's not the structure itself for I've lived in a tent, a motel room, apartments, small houses, new houses, old houses and large houses.  It's not the setting for I've lived in a neighborhood with sidewalks and on country roads away from cities, in the woods and next to a lake.

No, it's all about the place, the space inside, where a sense of belonging and security surrounds you.  It's a sanctuary for those who live there.  In her debut picture book, Home (Candlewick Press, February 24, 2015) author illustrator Carson Ellis presents her remarkable perceptions of homes.

Home is a house in the country.
Or home is an apartment.

For sailors at sea, their dwelling needs to float; an intricate network of lines, masts and sails making them move.  On land stepping back in time First Nation dwellers fashion homes using trees and bark. Imagined majesty, hidden from view or inside a shoe, homes may come from the pages of Arabian classic literature or Mother Goose rhymes.

In a European country or under the ocean's waves, these residences reflect those who live there.  We cheer, dance and sing but at the close of the concert, the musicians, the members of the band, head out on the open road in their rumbling bus of a home.  Impeccable or rather chaotic, towering or tiny, these structures are all home to someone.  Tanks for fish, hives for bees and a shell of a tree provide habitats.

Then we get to wonder who would live high on a cliff, under mushrooms, or beneath a dome on another planet.  We travel to Slovakia, Kenya, Japan and to the realm of a Norse god.  We are inside the kitchen of a Russian grandmother, the bedroom of a resident on the Earth's moon and the leafy nook of a raccoon.

We turn pages following our winged guide until we land in a creative corner.  It's a gathering of all we've seen, a collection of concepts for homes.  It's a starting point, an ending and a beginning.


Very simple sentences, more like observations, encourage readers to stop and take a look.  Carson Ellis suggests we gaze around us, go back to the past, open a book or spin a globe, to see and dream about places people and creatures might live, real or imagined.  She asks us to look at any home and wonder about the inhabitants.  When she shows us her home, then inquiring about our home, she makes this journey a shared experience, an intimate conversation between her and the reader.  Here are several other pictured passages.

Clean homes.  Messy homes.
Tall homes.  Short homes.


When you open the dust jacket (I'm working from an F & G; albeit a beautiful one.) the back is a varied steelier shade of the teal seen on the front.  The twenty-one homes shown on the front indicate we are in for a rare exploration of homes from the present, past, nature and the imagination.  The precise layout, in a word, is stunning.  The red on the dust jacket supplies the color for the opening and closing endpapers.  When the next page is turned, as our eyes move from the left to the right, we see the vee in a leafy tree branch offers a place for a bird's nest.  In the center of the title page a dove is in flight.  Above the branch the publication information and dedications appear.

Heavier matte-finished paper is the precise canvas needed for these illustrations rendered in gouache and ink.  All the lettering is done by hand.  Carson Ellis has an eye for flawless design.

Using a limited color palette the images extended across the gutter from page edge to page edge.  You will want to pause at each one, not wanting to miss any of the details; the items in the apartment windows, the monkey walking on the ship's line, the delicate trees and flowers, the clothing worn by all the children, the knights riding seahorses or what's cooking in the babushka's kitchen.  Carson Ellis brings us full circle using the dove as an element in every two pages as well as herself, seen in the first and last home.

One of my favorite illustrations is of the little forest world.  Ellis uses a teacup (seen in several other images) to give us perspective.  Everything is in miniature; the flowers, ferns, mushrooms, the snail, butterfly, lichen, bugs and shrew.  The little, little red-roofed house with smoke coming from the chimney with tiny articles of clothing hanging on the line is exquisite.


Debut picture book author illustrator Carson Ellis has given readers a gift sure to send our minds soaring as we view her Home.  We are left wanting to know more about those residences we pass every day, those we long to see or those we find in reading.  It's a book with answers and many more wonderful questions.


Please take a moment to learn more about Carson Ellis by visiting her website following the link attached to her name.  She has a new FAQ section.  Carson Ellis presents a guest post about this title at PictureBook Makers.  Author and blogger, Julie Danielson, talks with Carson Ellis about her book at Kirkus, Home Sweet Home with Carson Ellis.  Danielson follows with illustrations on her blog at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  Carson Ellis writes a letter to her readers posted at the Candlewick website.  UPDATE:  Please take a moment to view the video of Carson Ellis speaking about her home and this book at Carter Higgin's website, Design of the Picture Book. 

Passionate Potential

There's something magical about the combination of two little words, What if...? with pencil and paper. Whether you are writing or drawing you are only limited by the wandering of your mind as it leaps from one possibility to another.  No matter your age, child, teen, or adult, dreams are a source of endless delight full of potential.

In his E. B. White Read Aloud Winner, If I Built a Car (Dutton Books for Young Readers, May 5, 2005), author/illustrator Chris Van Dusen introduced readers to Jack, a young man with hidden talents and a very vivid imagination.  His new title, If I Built a House (Dial Books, Octber 25, 2012) brings eight-year-old Jack back along with his marvelous musings.  A step through the door into Jack's world is a step into wacky, wild wonder.

Jack, in the backyard, said to his mother,
This house is OK, but it's like any other.
It's boxy and boring and basically bland.
It's nothing at all like the house I have planned.

Jack is thinking leaps and bounds into days yet to come, designing like an engineer with all the cozy comforts of home sweet home.  His mother and dog step into his vision as easily as clients during a real estate tour.

From kitchen to living room to bathroom and bedroom each amazing accessory is duly noted.  There's an astonishing Kitchen-o-Mat to prepare meals and do clean-up, too.  Spinning chairs, a series of trampolines and a pit full of balls provide for playful pastimes in the family space.  A car wash style Scrub-a-Dub-Dub leaves you squeaky clean before you zoom up, up, up to the glass tower for sleeping with a view.

Sliding down from the scenic heights Jack and company have more rooms to investigate.  Yes, there's an Art Room with a wall for drawing, a Flying Room with no gravity at the flick of a switch, a Racetrack Room complete with cars and a suspended route with loops, dips and curves, and a Fish Tank Room completely underwater with creatures of every size and weight.  With a jet-propelled whoosh, one more room is left to enjoy.  Yes, that Jack is quite the boy.


Never forced, flawless, flowing, every two lines of the narrative by Van Dusen rhyme with a rhythm paced to perfection.  His protagonist speaks with an emcee's flair, a knowledgeable guide, leading his family here and there, up and down and all around.  Word choices roll off the tongue, stimulate the mind and create an atmosphere of futuristic fun filled with humor.


Using gouache to render all his illustrations Chris Van Dusen begins to engage readers with his matching jacket and cover; unfolded the back has Jack's dog sniffing a small house with the words, Think big! above.  The opening endpapers picture blueprint miniatures of eleven house designs.  Jack's completed drawings for his house cover the closing endpapers.

A bright, bold color palette reminiscent of the 50s and 60s in turquoise, teal, shades of green, red, orange and golden yellow, cheerfully invites readers to participate.  Items from the title page painting are placed on the dedication page tying the two together.  Details such as bits of Tinkertoy, Lincoln Logs, an Alexander Calder mobile suspended from the ceiling in the living room, and pink and black tile in the bathroom all recreate the feeling of this era. With the exception of the first and last pages the remaining illustrations are spread across two pages; blissful exuberance in every single one.


Readers will be more than happy to repeatedly join Jack, his mother and perky puppy pal as they travel from room to room in If I Built a House by Chris Van Dusen.  I guarantee readers and listeners alike will be anxious to plan their own unique spaces replete with gadgets and extras straight from their fertile fields of fancy.  Who wouldn't want to live in a house with all the fascination of an amusement park?

A link to Van Dusen's website is embedded in his name above.  It includes an excellent FAQ.  This is a link to a fascinating video Reading Rockets interview.  International Reading Association Reading Today Online posted an article, 5 Questions With...Chris Van Dusen (IF I BUILT A HOUSE) which offers hints of extras included in his illustrations; nods to another famous author/illustrator.

Earth's Heart Beats In Her Trees

Fortunate are those of us who, if they so choose, can walk among the trees.  When I walk along the Lake Michigan shoreline skirted by trees or up the winding paths among the hills densely forested, all sights and sounds of the busy world are gone.  It's as if time holds its breath; the trees watch in silence lending me their knowledge of decades past and the peace of endurance.

From 2004 through 2006 The United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress was Ted Kooser.  Mr. Kooser, the recipient of numerous awards, was given the Pulitzer Prize in 2005 for his title, Delight and Shadows (Cooper Canyon Press, 2004).  One would not be amiss in speaking his name closely followed by the words national treasure. 

Early this spring Candlewick Press released a picture book written by Ted Kooser illustrated with the signature artwork of Jon Klassen.  House Held Up By Trees chronicles the lives of a family, their home and the nearby woods.  Two worlds, the one formed by the hand of man, the other by nature, exist side by side.

When it was new, the house stood alone on a bare square of earth.  There was a newly planted lawn around it, but not a single tree to give shade in summer or to rattle its bare twigs in the winter cold.

Like so many tracts of land, this had been cleared of trees to make way for a different kind of life.  The dwelling was home to a man, his son and daughter.  On either side of their lot the woods, abundant with growth in all stages and populated with animals was a realm of discovery and delight for the two children.

As the years passed the ever vigilant father would make sure his lawn was picture perfect, careful to not allow the growth of any tree seeds carried there by the winds.  The boy and girl grew into a young man and woman leaving their elder father to pursue their own lives.  In time he came to the realization that living alone and caring for the home and its picture perfect lawn was more than he cared to do.

Without his persistent plucking, tufts of grass grew around the For Sale sign stationed along the road, seeds landed and sprouted into tiny trees.  With no one willing to purchase the home, it fell into disrepair as years passed.  Saplings had found fertile ground along the sides of the house growing larger with every spin of the earth. 

Soon what man had made began to crumble but not fall; the arms formed by nature holding it upright.  The house held in the leafy embrace was no longer bound to its cement roots.  As the trees grew stretching skyward, the house with the bare square of earth, the home of the father, his son and daughter, rose into the air.

Through his choice of words, an economy of language, Ted Kooser brings to this story of trees, a house, a man, a boy and a girl, the same sense of quiet one feels when walking through a forest.  As the narrative unfolds, through his more detailed descriptions of the woods surrounding the home, Kooser fills readers with a sense of anticipation, a quiet waiting.  His honest look at the passage of time is not without a tinge of sadness as the people age and the home decays but the continued cycle of flowers, seeds and trees is as uplifting as his conclusion.

Illustrations formed digitally and in gouache beautifully capture the soul of the story.  The cover, a variation in color and focus of one of the final two-page spreads, is like a question needing to be answered.  Endpapers in pale, cool green show small winged seeds floating along on an imagined wind.

Muted greens, browns, spots of rusty red or a sky awash in tints of the palest blue or sunset rose are Jon Klassen's choices for this story.  Details create a feeling of nostalgia and loneliness; the house's front door windows, the push lawn mower, a glimpse of the table inside a window set for one or the man seated alone outside watching the sun on the horizon.  All the visuals are two-page spreads with added interest in the angle or perspective.  Most of the time the reader is an observer but at other times its as if the floating seeds are watching the activities around the home below.

House Held Up By Trees (Candlewick Press) written in prose that reads like poetry by Ted Kooser with illustrations by Jon Klassen is a gentle journey into the measurement of time through the ticking clock of nature; absolutely perfect in every way.

I believe this book would make for meaningful discussions.  Why was the man always maintaining his lawn instead of exploring with his children? Where is the children's mother?  How do readers feel about the choice of the man to build his home there?  I really like a book, such as this title, that makes me think beyond the story.  Why is it that illustrator Jon Klassen chose certain details for his pictures?