Quote of the Month

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




Showing posts with label wordless books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wordless books. Show all posts

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Two Letters, A Single Word, A Single Note

With every tick of the clock, the opportunity for change is present regardless of the previous minutes, days, weeks, months or years in the past.  We are six days into a new year.  Anticipation fills the air.  People seem more determined than ever to pursue a difference, a difference for the greater good and ultimately for them.

Throughout social media people are selecting one word to guide them through the year.  These words are highly significant for them.  The explanations they offer for their choices are heartfelt and inspiring.  La La La: A story of hope (Candlewick Press, October 3, 2017) written by Kate DiCamillo with illustrations by Jaime Kim has been on my desk next to my computer since its release.  With each reading the reminder to readers, to me, to reach out with our voice is strengthened.  And sometimes when a single word is lifted in song it resonates more beautifully.

La

A little girl opens her mouth and releases a word into the world, not once, not twice but three times.  She waits for a reply.  She tries again.  There is still no response.

Slightly discouraged she walks until leaves drift down toward her.  She sings her word, hoping for an answer.  The leaves lead her to a place filled with natural splendor.  She continues to send the one-word melody toward a rock, a tree and all the branches on the tree.  She runs along a pond, singing.  She is greeted with silence.

Darkness has fallen. The leaves beckon her back into the special spot.   A strong light illuminates the surrounding area in a beam as it rises in the sky.  The little girl sings.  She does everything she can believing this marvelous moon can and will sing back to her.  The only sound is the stillness of the night.

Sad and a little bit mad, she drags the object she used to get close to the moon back and sits.  As she drifts off to sleep, a soft, gentle La leaves her lips.  A loud musical note wakes her up. In wonder she watches, she runs and a quiet, joyful nighttime conversation dispels her aloneness.


In her singular use of words to express an idea or a belief Kate DiCamillo takes one word, one very small word, and depicts the value in courage and persistence.  She allows us to see how the child does not give up even when exhaustion wraps around her.  Kate also reminds us to wait.  Sometimes the answer we seek takes time to arrive.  It usually appears when we least expect it.  When it makes its presence known, it's much better than we imagined.


Look at the child, hands clasped, foot lifted in a little dance, eyes closed and mouth open in song.  There is something heartwarming and endearing about her facial expression, clothing and stance.  You want to know her.  You want to be her friend.  We are not privy yet when looking at the dust jacket as to the source of the circular light around her but the colors selected suggest a warm connection.  As the shade of rose red bleeds to the spine it leads us to the darker shades of purple indicative of nighttime on the back.  Leaves and stardust frame the words:

What if you were
able to connect with someone?

What if you were
able to sing?

The book case expands on the presentation on the jacket back.  Both sides are covered in purple with star dust.  Extending from the spine are mirror images of flowers and leaves.  The opening and closing endpapers are a silvery blue, like dusk.

Rendered using watercolor, sumi ink, and digital techniques Jaime Kim elevates the narrative to a magical realm.  The type of paper, heavier without any gloss, allows the child, the leaves and additional elements to cast a shiny reflection when tilted in the light.  They seem to move on the pages.  It's a masterful technique.  When the special spot covers two pages, the illustration literally glows.

As the child moves from point to point our eyes follow her flawlessly.  We are completely intrigued with her movements and secretly cheer for her success as Jaime Kim adds new delicate details.  Readers will be captivated by the significance of the leaves.

One of my many favorite illustrations is at night.  The little girl is getting closer and closer to the source of the song she heard.  She steps through tall grasses, parting the plants.  The moon is reflected in the water in front of her.  Stardust and leaves tumble in the air.  Vegetation borders the pond.  A tall tree extends from the right side.  As an inset, Jaime Kim has added a small framed picture on the right side.  It's a close-up of the child's face.  Her mouth is forming an "o" in awe of what she sees.


No matter how many times you read La La La: A story of hope written by Kate DiCamillo with illustrations by Jaime Kim, it will leave you deeply moved and inspired.  Children have many lessons to teach us if we keep open to all they have to offer.  Kate DiCamillo and Jaime Kim both speak at the close of the book.  I highly recommend you place this title in all your collections.  In case you might be wondering about the power of the single word sung, I started singing La La La from my office.  My puppy, Mulan, two rooms away came running.

To learn more about both Kate DiCamillo and Jaime Kim and their other work, please visit their websites by following the links attached to their names.  At Penguin Random House you are given a peek at several interior pages in the book's beginning.  At Candlewick Press there is a teacher's guide about using wordless books in the classroom.  For the introduction of the book trailer Scholastic's Ambassador of School Libraries, John Schumacher, interviews Kate here and Jaime on the following day at Watch. Connect. Read., his blog.

Friday, September 1, 2017

On The Run

When you have small children or pets as members of your family (depending on the type of pet, of course) you get in the habit of checking as to their whereabouts before you open any door of your home.  The lure of the outside world is strong.  You would think the music of the Sirens is calling to them.  If they are faster at running through the opening than you are at closing the door, they are soon speeding away like a cheetah.  You imagine them yelling at the top of their lungs, "I'm free! I'm free!"  (If they are little children, they probably are shouting and laughing these very words.)

The truth is, sometimes being loose in the world is not an entirely positive experience.  The Little Red Cat Who Ran Away and Learned His A B C's (the Hard Way) (Little, Brown And Company, September 5, 2017) written and illustrated by Patrick McDonnell follows the adventures of a family feline that makes an escape.  As soon as he leaps off the front porch, races down the hill and starts on a straightaway, he realizes he has made a mistake.  Without the benefit of words but with award-winning artwork inviting and prompting a story in our minds, we eagerly turn the pages as our twenty-six letter alphabet dictates the flawless flow of action.

The first frightening encounter is with an alligator and is quickly followed by a meeting with a bear.  As the trio passes a coop, a chicken joins the line of runners.  Not watching as wisely as they should be, they nearly ram a sleeping dragon.  This frightens the chicken so much another runner joins the group.  Can you guess who (what) it is?

Everyone knows what an angry dragon breathes.  This necessitates the five frantic fleeing critters to don protective eyewear.  Now there are six on the move.  One dreams.  Six slip and slide.  After passing through a habitat better suited to primates, they are noticed by royalty.  One of them points to a poster.

As the middle of the alphabet is reached, the six seek new heights, again not paying attention.  Fortunately (Remy Charlip) an invention is handy.  Where are they now?  Do they need a break?  What time of day is it?

As in most tales with a bit of magic, when they least expect it and can hardly take another step, help arrives.  Greetings are given and six are soothed.  A crescent moon shines down, guiding some one way and one little red cat in another direction.  It's been a long day.  There's no place better than one's own bed.


When looking at the opened dust jacket (I am reading the F & G.) you can immediately feel a grin start to form.  That little red cat is most definitely in a bit of trouble.  The design and layout are superb introducing us to the six prominent characters chasing through the title text.  The black and white checks on either side of the spine add a touch of classic to the overall effect.  There is even a tiny little red cat above the Little, Brown And Company logo.

To the left, on the back, a tumbled group of alphabet letters in black except for A, B, and C are chasing the cat.  The opening and closing endpapers are an array of larger alphabet letters, all twenty-six.  A, B, and C are in their respective colors.  There seems to be a mix of words in the arrangement.  Can you find any?

Right after the opening endpapers, Patrick McDonnell begins the story.  Something wakes up the little red cat.  One eye pops open.  (This is just like Mulan who is dead-to-the-world asleep until I open the refrigerator door.)  Spread across two pages an image shows the open front door before the title page text starts.  Opposite the verso, the little red cat runs out the door and across the porch.

The use of white space as an element is exceptional.  This allows for a more stunning effect when it is replaced with snow, trees and vines, and a changing sky color as the day shifts into night.  All of the illustrations with the exception of seven allow a single page for each letter.  The others have larger, two-page pictures for a single letter.  For some of the letters two pages combine two letters in a single image.  You even get to turn the book for a surprising vertical visual.

One of my many, many favorite pictures is for the letter E.  Even thinking about it makes me laugh out loud.  And that's all I'm going to say except this illustration with all the little extra details throughout the title reveals a super sense of humor on the part of Patrick McDonnell.


If you are looking for your next new favorite alphabet book, The Little Red Cat Who Ran Away and Learned His A B C's (the Hard Way) written and illustrated by Patrick McDonnell is the book for you.  If you want lots of excitement and adventure, this is the book for you.  If you want to talk about plot and pacing, this is the book for you.  If you want to laugh and hear your readers and listeners say, "Read it again!" this is the book for you.  I highly recommend this title.

To discover more about Patrick McDonnell and his other work including his famous Mutts comic strip, follow the two separate links attached to his name to access websites.  Enjoy the book trailer.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Newsworthy

Students in my library have a fondness for objects folded from paper.  At the beginning of each year kindergarten students leave wearing sailor hats fashioned from newspaper so they can tell their parents about reading Tom Goes To Kindergarten by Margaret Wild.  Second grade students are amazed at the forms paper takes in the telling of The Something Special.   In the upper grades during April Is Poetry Month the guys and gals shape origami items to go with their written haiku.  For the oldest students, as a culmination to a study of the Dewey Decimal System and earning their pilot licenses (Library Sparks lesson), we have a day of competitive making and flying paper airplanes to earn gift certificates to a local book shop.

A single piece of paper with words, pictures or both words and pictures can hold a story.  A single piece of paper can represent a real or imagined person, place or thing.  In Daniel Miyares new title, Float (Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, June 9, 2015) without words readers enjoy a day with a boy who sees wonder in folded paper.

An open newspaper has been placed on a table.  Adult hands tear a piece, crease and fold it as a younger child leans in to watch.  Now clothed in a yellow rain slicker and hat, the day promising rain, the boy holding a paper boat begins his daily excursion.

As the sky darkens clouds heavy with moisture roll in.  Soon drops of rain prompt him to hide the boat inside his coat.  It's a downpour.

Large puddles are left in the wake of the storm; a perfect place for sailing and stomping.  Along the edge of the roadside curb, swift currents of water pass.  The boy sets his boat on the speedy path.  To his surprise it's moving more quickly than he thought it would go.

Within seconds it is out of his reach.  Racing down the sidewalk he tries to retrieve his runaway vessel.  Where is it?  There it is!  Oh no!  Down, down it drops into the storm drain.

Like a lone sentinel he stands vigil on the small brick arched bridge; watching and waiting.  Heartbroken he heads back home, the happiness he lost mirrored in the new rain showers.  Welcome, compassion, warmth and more creativity bring new light into the day.


The making of a boat from newspaper is an activity passed from generation to generation, child to child.  With this act, requiring only a piece of paper and a learned skill, Daniel Miyares shows readers how a day, even a rainy day, can evolve into one filled with joy and sadness and joy again through our imaginations.  The beauty of this story is in the timelessness.


Rendered digitally with a limited color palette, gray, yellow, white, pink, black and shades of brown, Daniel Miyares begins his illustrations with the dust jacket, an image spanning across the front and back.  The rain is diminishing as the boy sets his boat afloat in the puddle.  The tree-lined street is reflected in the water.  The book case picture, also covering both the front and back, moves in closer to the boat as it drifts on the water.  A hint of sun peeks from a cloud in the upper right-hand corner.  On the endpapers Miyares gifts readers with step-by-step instructions for folding the two objects highlighted in his story; one on the opening pages and the other on the closing pages.

Not wasting any space the narrative without words begins on the title page and verso with the newspaper.  Careful readers will take note of the pictures on the newspaper pages when an item is made.  With each page turn the tale is revealed in a series of visuals moving across two pages or two pages divided into panels supplying pacing.

Miyares invites us to be participatory readers with alterations in perspective.   We see only hands and the newspaper when the folding begins.  As the boy walks down the street we notice the top of his head above a white picket fence, his hands holding the boat high.  When the boat begins to move away, out of reach, our eyes start at the left with smaller images until on the right the boat is prominent.  Emotional impact is achieved with these shifts in point of view.

One of my favorite illustrations spreads across two pages.  The boy has picked his boat up from the puddle.  Holding it in his hand, in a series of six images, we see him gleefully jumping, splashing and leaping in the water.  In the lower right-hand corner a frightened bird squawks and moves out of his way.  I think I can hear the laughter, sloshing and chirping.


Truly uplifting, an ode to the simple joys in life, Float a wordless story conceived and illustrated by Daniel Miyares is marvelous.  While the focus is on the boy, the parent (adult or older brother) (The book dedication reads For my big brother.) plays a part as creator of folded objects and as a conveyor of compassion when needed.  This is a book for all ages.  It has the feel of a classic.

Please take a moment to visit Daniel Miyares website by following the link attached to his name.  You can view his other illustrative work, his blog, and news.  Stop by the publisher's website to see eight interior illustrations from this title including my favorite one and another one causing me to sigh and get a little teary. At TeachingBooks. net an audio tells us how to pronounce his name.
UPDATE:  Author, reviewer and blogger at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast Julie Danielson features Daniel Miyares, this title and artwork.  Julie Danielson conducts one of her classic feature interviews with Daniel Miyares at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Happy Birthday, John!

This year on June 11, 2013 I had one of the best birthdays I have ever had.  I did not go anyplace special or do anything out of the ordinary but when I was visiting all the blogs I read each day, I saw a heading that read Happy Birthday, Margie!  You would think after all these years nothing would surprise me but I was indeed surprised.  To this day I am deeply appreciative of the kindness extended to me by the one and only John Schumacher, Mr. Schu.

He is a beacon to each and every one of us in the teacher librarian community, a constant source of inspiration to all educators hoping to pass on their love of reading, books and integrating technology into their classrooms.  Each day our Twitter feed is filled with his links, hints and advisories.  Each of us are collectively his colleagues and his patrons.

His blog, Watch. Connect. Read. features book trailers, author, illustrator and educator interviews, current and upcoming events in his library, highlights before and after the monthly #SharpSchu Book Club, he and Colby Sharp's weekly Newbery chats, videos, resources and so much more.  We lucky people have followed he and his friend, teacher librarian Donna, on their numerous summer road trips.  John has a passionate purpose to share his love of books and reading with every single person he meets by giving away books to as many people as he can, especially the Newbery Award Medal book, The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate.    He is currently serving on the 2014 Newbery Medal Award committee.

Today on his birthday he begins another adventure as a member of the committee for selecting the new National Ambassador for Young People's Literature.  I hope all of you will join me and shout out a Happy Birthday to John so he can hear it loud and clear in New York City.  John, I, too, am thankful every day to call you my friend.

To celebrate John's Birthday I am giving away five of his favorite kind of picture books, wordless.  The titles below  Bluebird, Flora and the Flamingo, Journey, The Boy and the Airplane and Inside, Outside have been featured on his blog, some several times.

Remember:

  • You must be 13 years or older to participate.
  • This giveaway will run from 12:00 AM EST on August 28, 2013 until 12:00 AM on August 29, 2013. 
  • Take time for reading





Wishing you the best birthday ever, John and thank you for everything.




Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Gift

Tomorrow evening one of the highlights of each month will begin promptly at 8:00 PM EST on Twitter.  Members of the Nerdy Book Club will gather.  It's an hour of book bliss known as the #SharpSchu Book Club, hosted by Colby Sharp, educator, co-founder of the Nerdy Book Club, co-host of the monthly #titletalk with Donalyn Miller and blogger at sharpread and John Schumacher, teacher librarian, member of the 2014 Newbery Committee, 2011 Library Journal Movers & Shakers and blogger at Watch. Connect. Read.  This month the spotlight will shine on three wordless picture books.

I've previously reviewed Molly Idle's Flora and the Flamingo (Chronicle Books) and Bluebird by Bob Staake (Schwartz & Wade Books).  The third book chosen, The Boy and the Airplane (Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers) by Mark Pett is about losing and finding.  Sometimes we find more than we have lost.


As the first page is turned on the left we see the merest hint of an adult leg walking off the edge.  On the right a young boy, clad in overalls and short sleeve shirt, is holding a box tied with ribbon in a bow, on his face is a look of wondering.  When the present is opened, to his delight, he discovers a red toy airplane.

In a heartbeat, now wearing a jacket, he's out the door.  For the next several pages his joy is almost palpable.  He runs holding the plane, he is a plane circling it on the ground, then giving it a glance, he picks it up.  Arm back, plane in hand, he gives it a mighty throw.

He runs following as it climbs toward the sky until...it lands on the roof.  In an instant his joy vanishes. This boy is a very determined fellow though.  Grabbing a ladder he tries to reach it.  No, it's too short.  The next two pages show him attempting all possible means of retrieving his gift; he's a cowboy with a lasso, a baseball player throwing a ball, bouncing on his pogo stick and a fireman with his hose spraying out water.

Clearly having exhausted all his ideas, he sits under a tree.  When a maple seed flutters to the ground next to him, a new thought begins to grow.  Carrying a shovel twice as big as he is, he digs a hole and plants the seed.  Years pass, seasons change.  So does the boy.

Now he is a balding, elderly man with a full beard clad in overalls and a short sleeve shirt, standing next to a very large tree. He climbs, he reaches and rescues.  Time, miracle worker that it is, has fashioned another shift.  A gift.


One of the most striking things about this book, immediately noticeable, is the color scheme, the grays, greens, browns and rusty red used throughout. Rendered in pencil and watercolor this palette gives readers a sense of the timelessness of this story.  Mark Pett elects to alter the jacket and cover, each showing the boy with his airplane in similar scenes taken from the pages inside the title.  Opening and closing endpapers are a pattern of the airplane outline in rows.

Increasing the readers' feeling of participation are the plain backgrounds in varying shades.  All our attention is focused on the boy, the airplane, and the tree.  Pett chooses to include the faint outlines of a door, the interior of a tool shed, a few blades of grass and a small flower. A tiny bird (or two or a nest with babies) are the boy's only companion as time passes.  Illustration size, two pages, a single page, split pages (horizontal and vertical) create new moments with ease.

The texture of the paper, the fine lines of Pett's work, and the deft strokes of his paintbrush blend to invite.  I found myself touching the pages more than once.  When we readers are viewing the final pages, we have formed a connection to the boy/man and the airplane.  That's why, for me, my favorite illustration is the double page spread, zooming in on the old man, as his face and arms appear over a treetop branch.  He's looking at the airplane resting on an aged roof as a bird is looking at him from within the leaves.  I'm pretty sure I sighed out loud the first time I saw this.


Mark Pett's The Boy and the Airplane is a gentle tale of gifts received and given, of persistence and patience and of how wanting and wondering change over the course of our lives.  This book is a priceless gift from Mark Pett to his readers.  It is meant to be treasured.  It is meant to be shared.

Please follow the link embedded in Mark Pett's name above to his official website.  There is an interesting post there about his creation of this book.  For further images of pages from the book, here is a link to the publisher website.  If you want more information about the #SharpSchu Book Club tomorrow night there are links embedded in John's and Colby's blog titles.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Without Words...Pictures Say It All

Beginning in 1992 with Charlie Parker Played Be Bop, Chris Raschka has a long list of noteworthy books bearing his illustrations as well as those he has penned himself.  As mentioned previously on this blog in 1994 his book, Yo! Yes? received the Caldecott Honor award.   Hello, Goodbye Window written by Juster Norton illustrated by Raschka won the Caldecott Medal in 2006.  In March 2012 the world will know what his nomination as the United States representative illustrator for the Hans Christian Andersen Award will reveal.

A Ball For Daisy, a wordless picture book, by Chris Raschka done in ink, watercolor and gouache is beautifully brilliant.  Using the bold basic blue, yellow, and red of an artist's palette, black and brown softened with grays and washes, Raschka conveys with every stroke of his brush personality, emotion and story flow.

As soon as readers are introduced to Daisy we get a sense of her playful exuberance and innocence with that wagging tail and doggy smile.  Awake or sleeping her red ball is her favorite thing; her constant companion.  The two are in continuous motion except when they rest upon Raschka's two tone green striped sofa; his combination of two of the predominant colors.

I absolutely love the sequence of pictures when Daisy is sleeping on the sofa, she at one end and the red ball at the other.  She awakens, yawns and looks straight at the reader as if saying, "What am I doing away from my ball?"  She moves next to her round friend and continues her nap.  It is perfectly precious.

One day her little girl takes this little white bundle of happiness and her ball for a walk to the park.  During a game of throw and fetch the ball goes over a fence.  When her girl brings it back another dog, a brown dog gets the ball before Daisy.  Again she glances at the readers, eyebrow lifted, asking with unseen words, "What gives?  What is this intruder doing with my ball?"  Daisy is not happy and before she gets her most favorite thing in the world back---it pops!

Raschka's two page spread of eight square washes shows a range of feelings and reactions from Daisy at this dilemma; cocking her head, listening, looking, shaking the red pieces, howling and utter sadness.  Crestfallen head hanging Daisy and her girl leave the park. 

Daisy does not know how to get comfy for her nap without her ball despite consolation from her girl.  Raschka uses a purple wash just this once to convey Daisy's downheartedness.

The next day on their walk to the park Daisy and her girl are met by the other girl and the curly furred brown dog.  To Daisy's delight there is a new ball, a blue ball.  Nothing could be better than a new ball and a new friend; when one door closes there is the opportunity of another to open.

Mr. Chris Raschka, your distinctive artwork lends itself to redefining wordless picture books.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Filled With Treasure

When it comes to books authored and illustrated by Barbara Lehman, a picture really is worth a thousand words.  This Caldecott Honor winner (2005, The Red Book) who specializes in detail that stretches our imaginations using her signature watercolor, gouache and ink, has given us another wordless marvel, The Secret Box.  With Lehman its the whole package; the combined visual of book jacket, book cover and endpapers invite readers to embark on another adventure. 

She opens with a young boy from days past placing a pale blue box beneath a floor board.  In subsequent pages she pans back to reveal a dwelling, an orphanage, in a rural setting.  As time passes progress in the form of encroaching architecture, streetcars, roads and sidewalks surrounds the tall yellow building.  But one day three boys discover that floorboard and the box of treasures it holds:  four old sepia tone photographs, a torn map with a red line leading to a star, torn tickets, an old seahorse-admit-one coin and a postcard from Seahorse Pier.  Readers follow these three as they piece the mementos together to bring their present to the past.  The ah-ha moment comes though when two other children discover the hidden box; children from our time.  The gift of this tale is that it never ends, giving hope for children that might need it the most. 

I love this book for its sheer enchantment and also for the possibilities it offers for discussion among parents and children and for children and their teachers.