Author: dfurchtgott

A Canadian Trifecta: Illustrators, Review, Giveaway!

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As you can see from the title, this is a hefty post in three parts, so I’m giving you a breakdown and Table of Contents for ease of navigation:
PART 1: To put it politely, I will discuss the great value of Canadian illustrators! To put it candidly, I will whine at length about how nobody knows my favourite, beloved illustrators, or if they do they don’t know they’re Canadian, and how it’s a raw deal because if you don’t know an illustrator and an illustrator isn’t widely distributed, you don’t find their stuff– oh no I’m off again.
PART 2: Here I review a book by wonderful Canadian illustrator Lauren Soloy, who draws on wonderful Canadian artist (and author!) Emily Carr.
PART 3: The fun! A Canadian-focused giveaway of Lauren’s book– signed and personalized yesss! She is currently around Halifax, better known as the location of the glorious Woozles children’s book shop, and offered to pop in and sign a book for us! (Bet you anything if you don’t win but you want one– you could contact them and her politely and she’d do one for you at the same time.) NB: This giveaway has a firm deadline of entering by March 8 at 5 pm so that Lauren Soloy can have time to go to the shop and personalize the prize book!

Addendum: I will be dropping MANY names and a whack of pictures in this post for a simple reason: I want you to click my links, be intrigued and search for more of their work, whether they’re still in print or not, so you can read and enjoy– and gaze at the art.

PART 1: I have something of a mild grumble to make, as a Canadian living in the USA, and it’s this: for whatever reason (and there are reasons, there’s a whole border between the countries) I sometimes feel that the books I love from Canada just… don’t cross. They’re hard to find, they’re unknown– they’re beautiful… and just not around. I grew up with Robert Munsch (generally associated with illustrator Michael Martchenko, although he was paired with others, too) being just as much a given in everyone’s house as Goodnight Moon, but around here you can only reliably find Love You Forever (and no one knows the tune) and The Paper Bag Princess. If you ask me, this is ridiculous because in New England you should at least be able to find: Thomas’s Snowsuit, I Have to Go!, and 50 Below Zero, and, I’m sorry, is there a parent on earth who doesn’t need Mortimer? (Hint: it’s about a cheeky kid who just won’t fall asleep… until everyone gets too upset arguing with each other to check on him, and he’s bored of waiting for them to check on him– so he conks out.)

But what’s been getting my hackles up lately is that folks in the USA are often completely unaware of Canadian illustrators outside of the really tightknit kids’ lit world. My point is very far from “Canadian illustrators are undervalued by publishers and don’t get work.” They do! That’s brilliant, it makes me happy! But my bigger point is: a) OK, not to harp on, but I will never not be sad that the Caldecott rules are so exclusive (this article is from 2013 and there’s one like it pretty much annually); b) I’m Canadian and pouty that other people don’t get all thrilled over Canadian brilliance because, I repeat: I’m petty like that (I conducted an informal poll about “your favourite Canadian illustrator” and— well, I won’t talk about it because my heart cracked a bit); c) more seriously: There are genuine distribution issues across the border that have precisely zero regard for artistic merit, meaning that no matter how popular and relevant a title may be in Canada, and it may be a title with equal relevance to the States, with equal likelihood of popularity– it may not get distributed, it may have no chance to be known. That’s not anyone’s fault except for the Top Secret Masterminds Behind Distribution (who handles that and do you have a phone number?), but it does make me sad and frustrated.

Let’s look at success: the author Mac Barnett is paired up with illustrator (and author in his own right) Jon Klassen (they’re good friends and a brilliant team) and while Klassen does live in Los Angeles at the moment, he’s originally from Winnipeg and grew up in Toronto. He’s known, he’s widely recognized, and he publishes with Candlewick as both author and illustrator. I have a mad crush on his wit and his art (turtles) (ho, seriously, if you love turtles and I love turtles you need to read Klassen) and I want his new book The Rock from the Sky now but it’s only being released in April (“Dear Jon Klassen: If you send me a review copy I will send you butter tarts. How many butter tarts can you find in LA? Outside of your own kitchen? Hmmm? Come on, send me the book, and I’ll send you homemade butter tarts, and you get to choose whether with or without raisins, and I won’t even judge. Sincerely, Deborah”). Because he lives in the USA and publishes in the USA, he is known in the USA.

There are certainly others who have had wonderful success here, even without crossing the border! Sydney Smith springs to mind: I don’t know anyone in the kids’ lit world who’s not kicking as sulkily at rocks as I am because he’s not eligible for the Caldecott. He gets face out displays at every indie book shop, and even people who don’t scrutinize displays and make multiple trips to multiple book shops per week (I’m totally not describing myself, shut up) may actually own a book illustrated by him. Are there others? Sure! Isabelle Arsenault, Qin Leng, Julie Morstad, Elly MacKay— these are illustrators who get good work and whose books I’m able to buy relatively easily. Most of them. Most of the time.

It shouldn’t matter to me that no one knows they’re Canadian (but it does: see point b above re: Deborah is a pouty pouty rock-kicking sulky puss), because, honestly, they’re succeeding in a tough field. The reason I justify my poutiness about something so utterly irrelevant is this: When something reaches us, and we fall in love, we look for more of it, and it’s nice to be able to get it… but if you don’t know it exists, you can’t. Consider:

When I was growing up, Martin Springett’s art for Mei Ming and the Dragon’s Daughter was so lovely I read the story over and over and I wanted more. I was starry-eyed over his work, and I’m pretty sure that in my heart it paved the way for Grace Lin‘s books (Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, in particular) today. (You should get her books. They’re amazing.) When I grew older and saw the Fionavar Tapestry (then with the original covers), the style rang a bell, and I checked– it was Martin Springett’s art! It was the first time it occurred to me that Grown-Up Books Can Have Art, Too, and I can’t tell you how that link made me glow. To this day, I check good covers for the artist– and go out of my way to get special editions with covers by my favourite artists.

The art of Martin Springett (who now makes music as well as art!) is what linked picture books to novels for me. (Check out that wolf, eh?)

Nothing is as frustrating as falling in love with no hope of finding the object of your love without paying about $30 in shipping which I’ve certainly never done no never stop it (FINE I’ve done that, and ok yes I’ve paid even more than that, but not everyone is as willing as I am to say “it’s cheaper than a plane ticket, though!”) (It is cheaper than a plane ticket and during covid you can’t travel). However, the fact is that if you go to a book shop and think, “Well now, my kid loves books by Mac Barnett. I shall now find every Mac Barnett book here and buy as many as I can,” which is a lovely thing to do, it’s quite easy. You get to go and look on the shelves, search alphabetically by author’s last name, and you will find all of the available lovely books by Mac Barnett– some illustrated by Jon Klassen, others by Isabelle Arsenault or Christian Robinson.

However, unless you’re at the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art, which is a wonderful idea, but not so easily achievable worldwide, and anyway it’s closed now because of covid (though the online shop is open, so patronize it, my friends), you don’t get to browse shelves by illustrator.

Further, I say, and yes I’m getting all wound up: classics, particularly illustrated classics, don’t have the staying power if you’re, for example, the abovementioned Martin Springett or, say, Frances Tyrrell, or Stéphane Poulin, or Phoebe Gilman, rather than Ezra Jack Keats or Maurice Sendak. Oh, and let’s not forget that Keats and Sendak were author-illustrators. Note that Margaret Wise Brown is far more of a household name than Clement Hurd, the skillful illustrator of Goodnight Moon. (Did you know Mac Barnett wrote a lovely book about Margaret Wise Brown? Illustrated by Sarah Jacoby.)

Three lovely, hard-to-find books by Canadian illustrators.

So I get rather fussy about my beloved Canadian illustrators, who don’t get quite the prominence unless attached to a good USA distributor, somehow, and whose names won’t be as recognized unless they’re capable of writing as well as drawing, and who won’t last as well… Example? I really wanted to give Marjorie Pickthall and Frances Tyrrell’s beautiful The Worker in Sandalwood to a friend for Christmas, but had to get it secondhand. Stéphane Poulin’s Joséphine books, even in translation, are hard to find. And so on and so forth. Oh yes, I’m fully aware that old books go out of print! Sure, the vast majority of books by the Lobels are hard to find, and I recently bought a hardback copy of In the Night Kitchen, classic of classics, simply because I FOUND IT SO IT’S MINE. Of course I already have one, don’t be silly. This is to give to the next person I hear lamenting that “they only have the paperback.” So, no, this is not exclusively a Canadian issue. It is difficult and expensive to keep every book ever produced in print in the editions everyone loves. But it is definitely harder for Canadian content than American. (And, I repeat, I’m being specifically pouty as a Canadian here: this is personal for me. I have also been known to spend exorbitant amounts of money getting books from the UK or from France. And Australia, once.)

But my issue is, very simply: how do we get more if we don’t hear about them in the first place and it’s hard to get them? I’m not an average buyer of books, but this is how an ordinary experience has gone for me: Neil Gaiman writes of Catherynne M. Valente’s The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making: “A glorious balancing act between modernism and the Victorian fairy tale, done with heart and wisdom.” (100% accurate, by the way.) Now, I know and trust Neil Gaiman and that sounded like something I like, so I got it. I loved it, and got more of Cat Valente’s books, which have led me not only to more of her own excellent work, but also to the work of others (Naomi Novik’s Spinning Silver, and so much more). That’s how book-purchasing functions, normally. But let’s throw in a stumbling block: Cat decides to publish a story with an indie publisher in another country and they don’t distribute here. If we’re talking about a die-hard bibliophile and fan, this would cross the reader’s radar and maybe they’d go out of their way to get it. The average reader wouldn’t know. It wouldn’t pop up through an online algorithm because the book’s not available for purchase in the USA so a website serving the USA won’t pop up a notification “Oh, guess what? Why not get in touch with a store across the border and get this book?” If you are in a good store around the USA, a bookseller may mention it in the store, but only if you have a chatty bookseller who says: “Oh, hey, you like her? Wish we could get that new book, eh?” (Side note: Don’t worry, I know of no such book.)

Look, there’s no easy solution here. But I want to encourage you, dear readers, to think outside of the distribution bubble. When I travel (Remember travelling? I hear we might get to do it again one day!), I look for books at indie shops wherever I go (yes this is a problem when flying and the airlines make a fuss about weight limits), and I do my best to get local books– ones I know my Boston people can’t get me. In the UK, I have been known to reserve books in advance for purchase when I arrive. In Canada, I just pop in because I, um, know the booksellers and they know me. In Jerusalem, I have a local shop I love (Adraba, yes, they’re amazing). It’s worthwhile, I promise, and will enrich your library, and if it enriches your library it will enrich your mind, your heart, and your soul. And sink the foundations of your house, potentially.

PART 2: So, I’m going to show you work by a new-to-me illustrator (author-illustrator, too!), Lauren Soloy, from Canada: her earlier years in British Columbia gave her insights into the work of artist Emily Carr (how I love Emily Carr!), and she now lives on the other coast of Canada, in Nova Scotia, not far from where I grew up. She’s currently not far from the wonderful children’s book shop in Halifax, Woozles, and has offered to sign and personalize a book for ONE OF YOU, my dears, which I will pay to ship anywhere in Canada (yes, I want to focus on Canada, just this once– indulge my patriotism, I miss my home!). Rules to follow. Read on.

Her first author-illustrated book is When Emily Was Small, and it’s rooted in the story of Emily Carr as both writer and artist. I was so completely delighted that she wrote about Emily Carr just when I wanted to introduce the Changeling to Canadian art that this became personal to me.

Lauren Soloy did a wonderful job of making this story– and the art– both general and specific. Any child will be able to relate to Emily-as-Small’s feelings of repression and liberation, I think– and the story of the artist as well as the art is perfectly attuned to the historical context, too. The Canadian author-artist story goes back so far, both as far as and far preceding Emily Carr. One of the things to love about Emily Carr’s art, in fact, is that it represented a world of nature and art far beyond her own work. She was not a self-aggrandizing artist, though she knew her own worth, and you can see how steeped she was in the richness of her environment in so many ways. Lauren Soloy points to this one painting by Carr, “Scorned as Timber, Beloved of the Sky,” as a particular influence on When Emily Was Small, but “Totem Forest” shows her keen eye for the world around and the Indigenous art surrounding her yet more explicitly:

  • Totem Forest
  • Scorned as Timber, Beloved of the Sky

Now, if you want an example of how Emily Carr’s eye for narrative and nature in her art is reflected in the narrative art of Lauren Soloy? Look here, at a page which made me gasp aloud:

Terribly sorry for yanking, Lauren, please forgive me. I know it was a very secret nod.

I chose to highlight this book for a few reasons: a) I love it and she so kindly agreed to sign a copy for one of you, b) it links art and narrative in Canada across time and culture, c) it tells the story of yearning to make art, to be seen, to be heard… to be bigger than yourself, yet, ultimately, to be yourself most fully. It makes the reader yearn to live in a broad, beautiful way in this broad, beautiful world, and it feels real to me. Real– and personal. (Did you know Lauren Soloy has a new book coming out soon? She does! Etty Darwin and the Four Pebble Problem, May 18, 2021, and I’m very excited!)

PART 3: So: One of you Canadian readers! Remember that this time it’s for residents of Canada only, just this once. Please do my heart good! By Monday, March 8 at 5 pm either pop into the comments of this post and write about a Canadian illustrator you love– include the name of the picture book they illustrated, please! Or email me: deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com with the info– and attach a picture of the picture book you’re talking about if you’ve got it! I will choose a winner at random that night, email you immediately for name and address, and once I have the name for personalization and address for mailing, I will make the order from Woozles in Halifax to get to you ASAP!

Thanks so much– and try a Canadian book!

Terrible timing, retimed (Good Creature giveaways, take two)

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Hey, remember that time I decided to hold a giveaway for a wonderful author’s wonderful books right before the end of 2020? I remember thinking it would be a chance to wind down 2020 gracefully. We’d think of a world beyond the immediate trauma, think about growing and changing! We’d give to charities to end the year! We’d think of creating a better future!

So, yeah, then… then… I don’t want to think about it all, but, well, between the tensions surrounding the election (note by delicate periphrasis, isn’t it nice?), many people’s depleted financial resources (so much with the delicate), and then, in January, the ACTUAL INSURRECTION AT THE CAPITOL (well, there goes my elegant periphrasis, sorry, it was nice while it lasted), I don’t think many people had what it took (either in dollars or neurons or anything else) to think about the future while the present was so precarious. Timing was off, let’s just say.

Now here we are, a few days from Valentine’s Day, and I want to try again. I know we’re not completely out of the hole, but I, for one, am feeling better about looking at the big picture. I’m feeling cautious optimism. I’m thinking… maybe we can think about Being Good Creatures again?

So let’s try again! The rules are the same: Donate at least $10 to the charity of your choice below, and be entered to win a great book! New deadline is DONATE BY FEBRUARY 19 and I will mail your book the followng week! I will, as always, ship worldwide. Full details:

To win Becoming a Good Creature, please donate to Sleepy Burrows Wombat Sanctuary near Gundaroo in Australia; the donation page is HERE.

The Changeling says: “Wombats have taught me to share a burrow with other animals who need one.” (During the horrific wildfires in Australia earlier this year, wombats escaped much of the danger due to their burrows, and they tolerated, as they frequently do, the presence of other animals in their burrows, thus allowing many of them to escape danger.)

To win How to Be a Good Creature, please donate to the Turtle Rescue League here in Massachusetts; the donation page is HERE.

Sy Montgomery has been working hands-on with the Turtle Rescue League to help out her turtle friends. She says they’re teaching her “at a time of terrible sickness and sorrow in our country, about the tremendous joy of taking a hand, no matter how small, in mending our broken world.”

Go for it! Look to the future, and win a brilliant book! Donate, then email me your receipt at deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com, mention the charity you chose, the book you want, and I’ll enter you to win!

Road Trip! (with a treat for you from Steve Light)

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Before my Spriggan was born, a lovely lady at Candlewick sent me a stack of books– including an F&G of one the Changeling has been anticipating ever since the first glimpses appeared online: Road Trip! A Whiskers Hollow Adventure, written and illustrated by Steve Light, one of her all-time favourites. Road Trip! will be released on February 9, and we couldn’t be more excited to get a real, hardcover copy from our local shop. We’ve been fans of Steve Light ever since Swap! (no one does endpapers like Steve Light) and this book is yet another example of Steve Light’s playful and apparently easygoing work, but always with his gorgeous linework and brilliant colours. (Seriously, in this one the endpapers alone are worth the price of admission, but I’m going to make you buy a copy to enjoy them. Probably.) And the timing of this book could not, in my eyes, be more perfect. (Read to the end for something fun, courtesy of Steve Light himself! UPDATE: the art is all spoken for! Thanks to everyone who got a copy and I hope you enjoy your books!)

I’m not showing you the endpapers, though– it would spoil the fun! Well, should I give you a taste?

You know, everyone has a road trip memory. For me, growing up in Remotest Small Canadian Town, with all of our friends and family scattered across the USA, road trips were so much a part of my childhood I never even thought of them as “road trips.” It was just… what you did. All the time. That’s how you got to see people. It didn’t feel dramatic, in other words.

But as I grew older, and especially now with my own kids, I think of a “road trip” as more of an event, and this has been highlighted by the pandemic. Isolated in Brookline, every time we get in the car to go to a nature preserve for a walk– it feels like A Really Big Deal! A Road Trip! Oh, wow! All the way to Concord??? You don’t say! I know we’re not alone: I see fellow cautious families writing captions to Instagram photos like this one (invented, but could be any of mine or my friends’): “I couldn’t take one more day in an apartment– we strapped on our masks, hopped in a car, and drove the half-hour to an empty wildlife refuge! Look at the birds!!!” Steve Light’s Road Trip! reflects this spontaneity, this joy in getting out and about, to a degree that startled me, since it was written pre-pandemic. Until I remembered… there have always been road trips; maybe I just didn’t see them with this clarity until now. But Steve Light did.

Steve Light knows that every good road trip has certain MUSTS: you need someone to look out for the snacks (don’t choose me, I get overwhelmed and pack or buy everything, just in case– ok, maybe choose me), you need someone with a steady head for directions (my husband), and you need someone who’s a planner (for us, that would be the Changeling) and remembers to bring the Band-Aids– just in case!

You also need an impetus: someone who sees a road trip opportunity, and grabs it with both paws: that would be Steve Light’s Bear. Bear is lovely, by the way. Bear is the one with the old truck. Bear has a minor accident, and has to get to Elephant’s Old Junk Tree for a new light. That could just be a chore, right? But not in Bear’s mind! Bear doesn’t grumble: Bear gets together a crew of good friends (Rabbit, who’s in charge of snacks, Mouse with a first-aid kit, and Donkey to provide directions: “Follow me, friends!”) and off they go, headed for adventure!

Let’s pause to look at a few things: First, did you notice the lack of pronouns? This will probably glide right over you as you read, since Steve Light skillfully weaves the text lightly along with gender-neutral characters (something I appreciate since I’ve encountered too much awkward and clumsy pronoun-free text; the effort to let it flow with fully defined characters who are just named and not pronoun-ed is decidedly appreciated, thank you), but readers will find themselves relating to the characters without worrying about gender. Bear is just Bear, right? This is as it should be between friends, and it will allow all children to focus on personality rather than preconceived notions of who you should identify with.

Second, the spontaneity. There’s a special joy to taking a setback and turning it into a pleasure– safely. It makes sense to bring companions on a car-repair journey! Why not make it fun, after all? That’s Bear’s special skill.

Third, Steve Light is just so good at showing, not telling, that you don’t even notice he’s doing it: You can have ten classes on “don’t waste!” or “reduce, reuse, recycle!” or “let’s talk about the importance of sustainability!” Steve Light just has his characters (who are quite simply of unnamed gender, without a lecture on it) take a potential setback and make it a safe pleasure (without preaching about making the best of a bad situation) and use old junk to fix up an old truck– and he does it without ever saying, “Because it’s just so important to save and behave in a sustainable fashion.” Kids will absorb this, feel happy, and enjoy the adventure. And the endpapers– which I refuse to show you. (They’re glorious.) (Should I show you a bit, just a teensy bit?)

I am here to tell you as a mother who has observed remote learning: Kids have had it up to here with “shoulds” by now. Just as you and I want a little light reading between articles on everything miserable, kids need escapism… but they need it to feel relevant. I have no idea how Steve Light knew this type of story was necessary (hey, if you had a line to the future, Steve, couldn’t you have given us a little warning about this past year?), but he managed to produce a fun, light read that’s on the nose.

Your kid, like mine, probably needs to dream of a road trip, a physical escape. Maybe they want a rescue mission, to take something broken and fix it? And maybe they long for companions who fit them like puzzle pieces: someone to be as careful as Mouse, but Mouse needs a nudge from loving Bear to head outside and face something new, while Rabbit takes care they have snacks and Donkey cheers them on to “Follow me, friends!” It’s escape– but such mild escape, such cozy escape! Escape that brings you home at the end of the day, after a lift from the possible blues to a spontaneous adventure.

And for some of us (sadly, not all), even under lockdown a road trip was the only achievable physical escape: over the summer, especially, we’d pack a picnic lunch, we’d pack art supplies so The Young Artist could pause to paint a landscape en plein air (I feel like Steve Light would approve!), and we’d put on good walking shoes. Off to a wildlife preserve, peering through binoculars at the skies! Would we see cool birds? Would we see that cute fawn again?

The long-distance road trips of my childhood had different pleasures: they were planned far ahead, we’d argue heatedly about which music to bring and how many times we could listen to The Magic Flute (and no, I will never forgive my parents for lying and saying it only played on the Trans-Canada Highway, sorry, don’t lie), and there was always a welcoming family member at the end of the trip, whether cousins or a whole variety of aunts and uncles. We can anticipate those vacations again, as we read, but for now– a tiny road trip is still a possibility, and a very real, very hopeful, very friendly escape from our own four walls.

And Steve Light lets us see… where could we go? (Oh, fine, here’s a glimpse of those endpapers– just the teensiest, tiniest taste!)

How cool is this, even in a cropped, poorly lit photo?

I was so grateful to Candlewick for sending me this review copy when I had admitted to them up front that “we all know this is one I’m going to buy anyway” that I reached out to Steve Light before writing this: would he be up for a little something to lighten a few kids’ boredom?

For three lucky readers out there, then, here’s the plan! The first three of you to email me at deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com with proof of purchase of Road Trip! by Steve Light (and, yes, pre-ordering counts, of course!) will get a little something in the mail– just wait for me to say you’ve won, and I’ll ask for your mailing address, anywhere in the world! Steve has sent me three absolutely beautiful 5×7 drawings (picture below) and I have three little doodle pads, the kind the Changeling likes to carry with her for spontaneous drawings. Send me your proof of purchase, and the first three of you will get a drawing and a doodle pad! I’ll let you know if you’ve won and will ask for your address, and I will update the post when all of these are won and in the mail. As usual– I will ship anywhere, worldwide. Do note that the mail is slow these days, but I promise you your package will reach you.

NB: You can make your purchase anywhere, of course: my link is, as always, to my local Children’s Book Shop in Brookline. I would ask you to consider buying local and independent– if you have trouble locating your local shop, I’d be happy to help! But any purchase will count for these goodies– so here we go. Buy a book, send me an email, and I’ll let you know when your drawing and doodle pad are on the way!

Just get a load of these lovely pieces! Don’t you want one? Buy the book and send me an email!

That’s it, folks! Read and enjoy!

Review Copies

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When I started this blog, it was just me and a stack of books I loved, happily typing away. It was nice, of course, if anyone read my reviews and thought, “That sounds like a book for me!” But I bought every book myself, without any expectation of anyone giving me free books! For crying out loud– free books??? Now, some lovely people do that, so I thought I should put this up here both as a guide to readers for the sake of transparency, and to book-makers-who-want-reviews as a clear statement up front.

So: This page is to be a guide to authors/illustrators and publishers about my stance on review copies. It also explains to readers where my books come from and how it has an effect on my reviews (tl;dr: it doesn’t change my reviews one bit).

Background: My rules for reviewing have always been the same, and I stand by every review. I do not review a book I don’t love. It’s not as fun to create a space of analysis rather than enthusiasm, honestly, and while there’s enormous value in critical analysis– I’m trained as an academic, I’ve done that for years, so I really do know that– I keep this as a space for joy and pleasure. I like to think people come here thinking, “What can I read to help me smile or grow or think?” and walk away with a list in hand. So, what I’m saying is that I’m incredibly picky! It might be a silly book or a serious book– but I write about a very, very small number of the books I read. Too small. I wish I had time for more!

For Readers: I will always note when a book comes to me as a free review copy. That said, as you’ll find if you read on, nine times out of ten the review copy comes to me by way of a publisher saying, “OK, tell me what you like then!” So I do the choosing, and then narrow down– just as I would in a book shop. In fact, the result is that this encourages me to step out of my comfort zone a little, or you get a review pre-publication. In short: better for you! More variety, more chance to stretch myself, but I’m still picky as all get out.

For Publishers: I’ve had a few publishers contact me, which is wonderful (I do love publishers– they work so hard on getting these books out– and I’m writing this during covid, at which point, good Lord, I bow to you all!), and to them I say the same thing you’re getting over and over on this page: a review copy does not guarantee a review. I’m just very picky, and also busy. Remarkably, some of you wonderful folks still offer to send me books! Here’s the deal about that: I’m super picky, and I prefer to be offered to choose my books, but review copies get considered first when I’m thinking about what to review. So, why do I pick and choose? Why not say to send what you like? This allows me to stretch! I may very well have pre-ordered a book by a favourite author, or be planning to. I don’t want you to waste a review copy if I’m already getting it– unless you think a pre-publication review would be nice, in which case, please do. But I really love to be challenged. Give me the chance at something a step out of my usual zone? Great! That would be a great review for you and a lovely chance for me to stretch my mind a bit. Long story short: I love to get review copies from publishers, love to choose or discuss them, and, further, since I feel an obligation to you, review copies automatically go to the top of my mental list when I think ahead to what I plan to review. If you wish to contact me, please email: deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com.

For Authors: While I really, really do love to hear from you and I appreciate you so very much— because of that, I do encourage you to put me in touch with your agent or publicist regarding reviews, just because I don’t want you or me to feel bad if I don’t write a review. Long version: I’ve had lovely authors write to my over the years offering review copies and I always caution them that while I’m very happy to get books, it’s not a guarantee of a review– partly because I may not love the book (see above re: very, very picky), but also because it’s only me here and I don’t like to write a review thoughtlessly. So if a review doesn’t go up, it may just be that I was busy or simply couldn’t think of something interesting to say beyond, “Nice book!” and that’s not what I do here. And I always feel bad if an author sends a book directly and I don’t wish to or don’t manage to get a review up: every author works hard on their book and it’s their baby! If I don’t review, I cringe a little– folks: I promise I appreciate your immense effort! It’s just I’m only one person. If you wish to contact me, please email: deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com.

ALA Youth Media Awards and more!

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It’s been a while since I’ve been properly immersed in the book world, sadly! Still, the ALA Youth Media Awards are always fun, and it seemed a nice time to sit with a sleepy baby (the Spriggan is a little over two months old now, and very good at talking over Caldecott-worthy picture books) and watch the awards. I wanted to see, properly– what had happened last year? Was it really only one year?

This year’s awards were bittersweet: sweet because there are so many lovely books of all kinds, but bitter because I missed so many. I’ve never been able to keep up fully with the intense joys of an industry churning out so much valuable literature, but during a pandemic, with doors shut everywhere, it just wasn’t possible. (I owe incredible thanks to my local shop, as ever, for keeping me and my whole community here as in the loop as possible.) It’s always fun to get guessing about the Caldecott, in particular. Flipping through a stack of gorgeous picture books is just the best kind of joy under any circumstances; doing so while thinking “is it Caldecott-worthy, though–what is the role of the illustrator in this book?” That’s a whole other level of fun, especially while doing so with a keen Changeling with opinions of her own.

She voted for The Bear and the Moon, by the way, though she agreed with my musings that The Blue House was a worthy choice. My husband mentioned I Am Every Good Thing.

This year, I was way off! There was precisely ZERO overlap between my thoughts and the Caldecott committee, and that means you get an extra list to browse! I encourage you to take a look at the YMA list, which includes many books I loved, and many which completely passed me by due to the aforementioned dumpster fire of the pandemic. Here are all the winners of this year’s awards. I encourage you to read it through and look to your local book shop to pick up anything that strikes your fancy– these are very fine books.

As for my Caldecott-worthy picks? Well, not all are eligible according to their rules, but I’m not so restrictive as they are, so here’s my list of books with absolutely extraordinary illustrations which deserve a careful read Links below lead to the Children’s Book Shop in Brookline, where I found all of these, but maybe you have a great shop of your own!

In the Half Room by Carson Ellis

All Because You Matter by Tami Charles and Bryan Collier

The House by the Lake by Thomas Harding and Britta Teckentrup

I Talk Like a River by Jordan Scott and Sydney Smith

If You Come to Earth by Sophie Blackall

Finding François by Gus Gordon

I Am Every Good Thing by Derrick Barnes and Gordon C. James

The Bear and the Moon by Matthew Burgess and Catia Chien

I’m hoping that the Spriggan continues to allow me half-hours for writing these days! I do have plans… and books…

Langston Hughes: 1926, 2016, and Today.

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November 2016 I reviewed Langston Hughes and Bryan Collier’s I, Too, Am America on the blog. I was sad, afraid, and angry.

Yesterday and today, I’ve been FURIOUS, sad, and a bit afraid– mostly for the future, really.

Langston Hughes first published that poem in 1926. There’s a recording of him reading it in 1955. (Listen here.) And now we’re asking, again: What is America? Who is America? Who speaks for us? Who represents us?

Good questions to ask, yes, but. But. Some of the loudest answers we’re getting are representative of the worst elements among us. Langston Hughes told us in 1926: I am America, as are you: We are all America. Yesterday, the insurgents in DC said: We, are, you’re not. We don’t care what you say. Mind your place, don’t be uppity, and don’t speak to your betters.

And the world asked: What is happening to democracy in America?

I was ashamed. I hope you are, too. But don’t say: “this isn’t who we are.” Because, sadly, it really is, and we have to own it, and we have to change that.

I Am America. So are you. Let’s make America better. If you want to get Langston Hughes’s heartrending poem with Bryan Collier’s heartmending illustrations, try it here, from my local book shop: I, Too, Am America

Becoming a Good Creature and How to Be a Good Creature (Giveaway!)

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It’s utterly bizarre to me to think that an author as influential in my house as naturalist Sy Montgomery has never yet made it onto my blog. Grappling with how that could have happened, I realized that I’m pretty sure that my last post on the Changeling’s marsupial research was on Welcome, Wombat so I don’t think I’ve even told you about The Quest for the Tree Kangaroo or any of her other marsupial books at all. And yet we’ve been slowly but surely gathering quite the collection of Sy Montgomery books, including, first, How to Be a Good Creature (really pitched for adults) and, more recently, the picture book adaptation of that excellent, wise book, likewise illustrated by Rebecca Green, Becoming a Good Creature. (NB: How to Be a Good Creature is not a children’s book and a parent should read it first due to some quiet but honest references to severe depression and even suicidal ideation, but I don’t think there’s anything a clever kid can’t handle– my Changeling is 7 years old and adores this book– and Rebecca Green’s illustrations catch a child eye.)

I love the matching-but-not-the-same covers, don’t you?

I think we all know, by this point in the pandemic, a few things: a) Schools and teachers are incredibly valuable, and undervalued by society as a whole; b) The formal school systems in your area or mine (whether public or private, and at whatever level of education) are really only one avenue to learning. Many families, and many children, are getting an explosion of new experiences, by main force, right now: If I can’t be in a classroom, sitting in one desk in a row of desks, where can I learn, and what, and how? I know a mother homeschooling two children in Canada who has done some of the most remarkably creative work of any teacher I know, from making their own cuneiform tablets to practicing measurements in a field to see just how REALLY big various dinosaurs were, once upon a time.

And, now we’re in December 2020 and many families are considering their end-of-year charitable contributions, I want to invite you to think in a new way about your charitable giving: What is the best way to be a Good Creature and to support other Good Creatures?

To that end, maybe we need to think more broadly about education for ourselves and our children, Sy Montgomery reminds us (accompanied by equally meaningful pictures to reinforce these points from Rebecca Green). Why think only humans can teach humans about being Good Creatures for the good of all? Her earlier book, How to Be a Good Creature, articulates in touching and vulnerable detail her personal experiences learning from animals who often communicated to her with more honesty and kindness than humans. The animals ranged from ones the uninitiated might expect– we think, instinctively, that since dogs are man’s best friend, of course we can relate to them, limited as they are. But no: Sy teaches us that we’re thinking inside the box. The dogs aren’t the limited creatures: we humans face limitations we don’t even know to acknowledge. She learned quickly, as a child, that “these differences, I decided, were not insurmountable. Maybe I could be like her [Molly the Scottie]. If only I could learn her doggy secrets!” Molly has something to teach, and Sy wanted to go with her, to a world “just out of my ordinary human sensory range.”

That’s really the launching point for these two wise books: what are our limitations and what can we learn from the other incredible creatures, the whole world over, whom we normally either indulge as little pets, ignore as irrelevant to our daily lives, or treat as commodities for our use and enjoyment? Sy Montgomery’s earlier books taught my girl to see a pig as a friend and companion (Christopher Hogwood in How to Be a Good Creature) and overcome fear and wildness in order to reach an understanding of a beloved animal– the Matschie’s tree kangaroo. The Quest for the Tree Kangaroo so fascinated her that she decided the dangers of an expedition through the Cloud Forest of Papua New Guinea are completely worth it to see: “a plump, plush fellow, with huge brown eyes, his woolly fur dark brown except for his moon-white belly…” Those, of course, are traditionally “cute” creatures– but even ones I felt nervous about, such as tarantulas, are enthralling to my Changeling, and I keep my conditioned nervousness to myself.

When Becoming a Good Creature was announced, I knew we’d get it, but wasn’t initially in a rush. I knew it would be lovely, and the prospect of a higher proportion of art was appealing since I was expecting another kid (who’s now here, shape-shifting Spriggan that he is!) but all things considered– my Changeling loved How to Be a Good Creature and the Tree Kangaroo, and since Condor Comeback had just come out and she was sleeping with it nightly, where was the rush for a younger picture book?

With the pandemic, things changed. First of all, pre-orders were important for the promotion of books, and I care, deeply, about my local book shops (SHOP INDIE, everyone!), and also about authors and illustrators. HMH announced a pre-order draw (if you sent in proof of a pre-order you could be entered to win a prize pack), so I entered for the fun of it and promoted it online. My less practical, more nuanced thought, though, was my conviction that kids needed this book– and parents, too: I had a feeling that Sy and Rebecca would be telling us about where to look for teachers beyond ourselves, and this was the time for that message.

I was 100% right– and 150% lucky! First, I won one of the prize packs, including a beautiful poster of the book cover I plan to frame for the Changeling’s room. The Changeling was wild with joy when I told her she got a signed bookplate (BOTH Sy Montgomery and Rebecca Green, two of her Real Life Heroes!) for her Becoming a Good Creature and she generously told me I could keep the How to Be a Good Creature signed by Sy Montgomery downstairs so she could finally be allowed to sleep with the old, rather battered copy. (I mean, she was sleeping with it anyway, but now she’s allowed to.) (NB: She’s also told me we’re getting two pigs– she’ll have a boy pig named Christopher Hogwood, and I can get a girl pig and name her Circe.) (I’m not sure the Town of Brookline lets you keep multiple pigs in the backyard?)

I haven’t actually told you much about Becoming a Good Creature itself, yet, have I? Well, there’s a reason for that. It’s not an easy book to convey through a stark blog post, though if you’ve read this far, you probably have a good sense of it: it’s a book about experiences, so it relates to how to be open to experiences, and why it’s worthwhile, and you can really only get that by the experience of living. Some of the lessons? I can give you the words, but you won’t internalize it until you read the book, brought to life by some of Rebecca Green’s most vivid, challenging-yet-easy-feeling art yet. It’s a book about learning by experience, so it’s a book that conveys its message experientially– by flipping through and immersing yourself in the merger of text and art. Animals in the wild and at home taught Sy many lessons over many years, and she shares that as well as she can, but always makes clear that you’ll find your own teachers by your own experiences.

This book, in short, felt important: and IMMEDIATE. As we transition from a difficult 2020 to a 2021 which has taken on new levels of urgency and importance, this is an author, this is an illustrator, and this is a set of books I want to share and promote– and it’s a message I want to promote, too. Be a Good Creature by caring for and listening to and learning for Good Creatures.

I talked to my Changeling and we thought about it. I had two extra books, now: one of How to Be a Good Creature, one of Becoming a Good Creature, both from my local Children’s Book Shop, here in Brookline, where I have met many a Good Creature, and good book! I asked the Changeling whether we should share these, and she agreed. So here’s our plan, on which we agreed together and in consultation with Sy Montgomery:

We’re going to hold a “Thanking Good Creatures” giveaway! If you donate to one of the following charities (I encourage at least a $10 donation) and email me proof of donation at deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com then I will enter you to win one of these gorgeous books. DEADLINE: December 31, 2020. I will draw two names at random in the first days of January, 2021, and ship them out the first week of January. I WILL SHIP WORLDWIDE!

To win Becoming a Good Creature, please donate to Sleepy Burrows Wombat Sanctuary near Gundaroo in Australia; the donation page is HERE.

The Changeling says: “Wombats have taught me to share a burrow with other animals who need one.” (During the horrific wildfires in Australia earlier this year, wombats escaped much of the danger due to their burrows, and they tolerated, as they frequently do, the presence of other animals in their burrows, thus allowing many of them to escape danger.)

To win How to Be a Good Creature, please donate to the Turtle Rescue League here in Massachusetts; the donation page is HERE.

Sy Montgomery has been working hands-on with the Turtle Rescue League to help out her turtle friends. She says they’re teaching her “at a time of terrible sickness and sorrow in our country, about the tremendous joy of taking a hand, no matter how small, in mending our broken world.”

So, please! Consider making a donation, send me a note with which charity you supported so I know which book you’re entered to win. Again:
a) Donate at least $10 to one of the above charities by December 31, 2020

b) Email me with your receipt and chosen charity/book

c) I will notify you if you win in the first days of January and ship your book shortly afterwards!

Thank you so much for helping to make the world a better place! And thanks so much to Sy Montgomery and Rebecca Green for their work and for showing all of us, kids and adults, concrete ways to work with our fellow creatures to be better ourselves.

Holiday Book Donation Drive for Heading Home

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Well, fellow readers, here’s the story for today:

You know, I had a whole post prepared. And I ran it past my excellent contacts at Heading Home and some of my book shop friends. And then—well. Many of you know I was expecting a new addition to this book-loving family, and I sort of ran out of time for posting because my doctor said I had to go have the kid already, and the blog post had to wait, so I had this draft, and here I am now, with a baby in a Moby wrap (he loves it, by the way—so did the Changeling) writing to you about something I love and look forward to every year– and it suddenly has extra potency.

What I’m about to say is that, quote from original draft: “Every year, I look forward to something I find particularly meaningful: Book donations for the holidays.” I originally went on to tell you, carefully, that, “Naturally, as a family, we try to make regular and careful donations to causes we care about at both the local and worldwide level— donations for the good of people and the planet, donations for health and literacy, and for many causes we care about.”

But here’s the thing. When I brought home my little Spriggan (huh, where did that come from? Another Cat Valente nickname, I think, but he does feel like a Spriggan to me…) the first thing the Changeling wanted to do was sit and read The Very Hungry Caterpillar to the deeply sleeping baby. A few hours later, I kicked my way into the devastated mess of the room that’s going to be his when I get around to it, and looked at the big box of board books I have to organize, conscious that there are other book boxes in the basement… And I thought, with a pang, “Not every kid has this.”

Now, every year, since moving to Boston, I’ve donated books with glee at local shops and libraries (I remember doing it at the Curious George store, for example, in Harvard Square, when I was starting my PhD). I delight in choosing books I think will spark a kid to love a book—maybe The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander, or one of the Ahlbergs’ amazing collaborations for a parent to share with their baby.

I clearly remember that one year I wandered around a shop, chose three books (that’s my usual amount– one for a baby, one for a young child, one for middle grade), and stood in line behind a woman to pay. The poor, innocent clerk at checkout asked if she’d like to donate a book or a toy for their drive. The woman snapped that she’d “already been asked too many times that season to donate to too many causes,” and as if that weren’t enough started right in on questioning the need for charitable giving at all, that “they” probably don’t need all that help and should work harder. I saw red, slammed down my three books on the counter, went back for three more and came back to tell the clerk I was getting three more for the lady in front of me. She walked off in a huff. This is personal to me: literacy should be accessible, and I think it shouldn’t be a warm fuzzy feeling to give books to kids in need—they shouldn’t be in need at all. But if they are, which is simply reality, well, I’m going to try to help.

This is not a topic to argue with me about, is what I’m saying. Kids don’t ask for poverty. Kids need opportunities for growth, inspiration, and joy. And books provide these opportunities.

This year, as cold weather set in and the nights lengthened and I was thinking about this topic, first while pregnant, now with my baby sleeping sweetly (try to sleep at night, too, kiddo), I got troubled. The need has not diminished: it has expanded. But with Covid-19 still dominating this country, racism continuing to be a powerful issue, and financial stress plaguing both families and small businesses—I was determined that this wasn’t the year to sit out my most meaningful donations.

I wanted to try something else. I wrote to one of Boston’s leading providers of shelter, Heading Home, to ask if they’d be interested in receiving donations of books for children over the holidays. I received prompt, helpful replies indicating what they’re looking for and how we can go about donating. I put together a plan, which I sent to them, and here’s what I want to ask you to do with me:

  1. I have made a list of recommended books for donation, which you can find at the bottom of this post, or linked HERE as a pdf. These range from board books and picture books to novels, graphic novels, and Spanish-language options.
  2. I provide purchase links to local independent book shops which will happily help send books to Heading Home. Please support these Boston-area local book shops!
  3. How to donate: given Covid-19 health and safety concerns, they ask that items be shipped directly to the Family Services office, where case managers can distribute to goods out to their clients safely. Therefore, please order your books from one of the shops I list and have them sent directly to: Heading Home attn. Meaghan O’Donnell at 1452 Dorchester Avenue Boston, MA 02122
  4. Please include a note that this is for the holiday book drive for children.
  5. Try to do this by December 10 in order to give plenty of time for Heading Home to do their work, and the book shops to do theirs!

If, for any reason, you have any difficulty, the person to contact is me! Write to me at deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com and I will help you as quickly as I can. (NB: I do have a new baby! But I also don’t have many other obligations, and this is something I care about, so do not hesitate to write—just understand if I take more than five minutes to reply.)

A few final reflections: My hope here is to provide help to as many people as possible. The primary goal, of course, is to help low-income Boston-area kids find books that spark feelings of recognition, imagination, or inspiration in them. But I also want to help a brilliant organization that does important work, I want to help all of the book people who work so hard and are going through a hard time right now (authors, illustrators, booksellers, etc), and, as always, I want to support independent book shops at a time when every sale counts. This should be a win for everyone.

A last word: The sentiments in this post aren’t just for the holidays. Yes, as it gets cold and the nights draw in earlier—that’s when these feelings creep over us more dramatically. But these kids need literacy, hope, and joy every day of the year. So keep that in mind, too.

Now for your shopping list and a list of excellent Boston-area book shops! A special shout-out to the two shops at the top of the list who offered me excellent support as I assembled this plan (The Children’s Book Shop and the Brookline Booksmith) and also to the lovely folks at the Eric Carle Museum Book Shop who gave me some very nice graphic novel suggestions!

RECOMMENDED BOOK LIST FOR DONATIONS

For more information or further suggestions contact: deborah.furchtgott@gmail.com

Board Books

Whose Knees Are These? By Jabari Asim and Leuyen Pham

Antiracist Baby by Ibram X. Kendi and Ashley Lukashevsky

Baby Says by John Steptoe

Please, Baby, Please by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee, illustrated by Kadir Nelson

Homemade Love, by Bell Hooks and Shane W. Evans

Picture Books (uplifting)

Hands Up! By Breanna J. McDaniel and Shane W. Evans

You Matter by Christian Robinson

All Because You Matter by Tami Charles and Bryan Collier

I Am Every Good Thing by Derrick Barnes and Gordon C. James

A Girl Like Me by Angela Johnson and Nina Crews

Picture Books (quirky)

Saturday by Oge Mora

I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen

Pokko and the Drum by Matt Forsythe

The Menino by Isol

Fox & Chick: The Quiet Boat Ride and Other Stories by Sergio Ruzzier

MG Novels:

The Time of Green Magic by Hilary McKay

Nevermoor by Jessica Townsend

Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne M. Valente

Graphic Novels (mostly older, 8+):

New Kid by Jerry Craft

Long Way Down: The Graphic Novel by Jason Reynolds and Danica Novgodroff

Stargazing by Jen Wang

The Daughters of Ys by M. T. Anderson and Jo Rioux

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen

Spanish language:

Mamá Goose: Bilingual Lullabies/Nanas by Alma Flor Ada, F. Isabel Campoy, Maribel Suarez

La oruga muy hambrienta by Eric Carle

Evelyn Del Rey se muda by Meg Medina and Sonia Sanchez

Un Día de nieve by Ezra Jack Keats

Soñadores by Yuyi Morales

Seasonal picture books:

Silent Night by Lara Hawthorne

Shelter by Céline Claire and Qin Leng

The Shortest Day by Susan Cooper

A Big Bed for Little Snow by Grace Lin

Twelve Kinds of Ice by Ellen Bryan Obed and Barbara McClintock

Older and/or Odder:

Nutcracker by E.T.A. Hoffmann, trans. Ralph Manheim, ill. Maurice Sendak

Queen of the Sea by Dylan Meconis

Flamer by Mike Curato

Leave Me Alone! By Vera Brosgol

Extra Yarn by Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen

RECOMMENDED BOOK SHOPS AND LINKS

The Children’s Book Shop: https://thechildrensbookshop.indielite.org/

The Brookline Booksmith: https://www.brooklinebooksmith-shop.com/

Frugal Bookstore: https://frugalbookstore.net/

Porter Square Books: https://www.portersquarebooks.com/

The Harvard Book Store: https://www.harvard.com/

Trident Booksellers: https://www.tridentbookscafe.com/

The Carle Museum Bookshop: https://shop.carlemuseum.org/

Thank you so much in advance for your support of this plan, and let’s get some books! (Feel free to get some extra books for yourselves while you’re at it, though. Always a good plan, and I won’t judge you. I’m probably doing the same thing.)

Hallowe’en Books: 2020 edition!

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As I said when I posted yesterday, I think this is a great year for some good, spooky reads. Take a dark, cozy, spooky day and tell some stories, read some stories, maybe choose a good eerie novel, even! But this list is mostly for picture books I’ve either reviewed in the past or have recently come out and I haven’t had a chance to review this year. It will be a list, not a Big Chonky Review, so have your indie book shop’s website or phone number handy, and get ready to impulse buy!

I’m going to start with a brief list of new books to try (I will note those I’ve read and those I haven’t yet had the chance to– sob!)

Gustavo, the Shy Ghost by Flavia Z. Drago (I have NOT read this, but doesn’t it look great? Sold out at my shops already by the time I went to check!!!)

The Ghosts Go Marching by Claudia H. Boldt, a lovely sing-along board book for the youngest Hallowe’eners!

The Little Ghost Who Was a Quilt by Riel Nason, illustrated by Byron Eggenschwiler, is a fun and funny, not-too-sweet-yet-charming story of being the odd ghost out on Hallowe’en.

Here are my previous reviews:

Screech! by Charis Cotter (collection of ghost stories)

And Then Comes Halloween, by Tom Brenner, illustrated by Holly Meade (picture book about choosing and making costumes, playing with identity)

The Witch Family, Eleanor Estes (fun and funny early novel, Grades 3-7, illustrations by Ardizzone!)

Ghosts in the House, Kazuno Kohara (picture book, I have it as a board book, seems mostly available as paperback now; very young level, beautifully limited and delightfully, sweetly, spooky)

Stumpkin by Lucy Ruth Cummins (very clever picture book, age 3+ I think, funny and poker-faced with a delightfully vintage feel)

Alfred’s Book of Monsters by Sam Streed (slightly older picture book, maybe ages 4 or 5+, delightfully Goreyesque in style)

The Little Kitten, Nicola Killen (picture book, enchantingly lovely and cute with just a hint of spookiness in a final twist– ages 2+)

How to Make Friends with a Ghost by Rebecca Green (a real family favourite, year-round. Ages 4+ picture book. So much heart and truth with leavenings of humour and macabre which never, EVER take from the love.)

Scary, Scary Halloween by Even Bunting, illustrated by Jan Brett (picture book, ages 3+, young and sweet)

Ten Timid Ghosts, by Jennifer O’Connell (young picture book; a simple counting book with a Hallowe’eny twist!)

Room on the Broom by Julia Donaldson and illustrated by Axel Sheffler (a truly classic book, available in many formats, toddler and up)

I Am a Witch’s Cat by Harriet Muncaster (more of a story-type picture book, ages 4 or 5+, a seemingly straightforward book of Hallowe’en imagination… until the end…)

Honestly, if you haven’t found something good in here? You’re picky, indeed! But hop to it– Hallowe’en is ELEVEN DAYS AWAY SO RUN TO YOUR SHOP! Or write to me in the comments or at deborah@childrensbookroom.com for help finding your indie book shop!

SCREECH! for Hallowe’en

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So, I’m honestly appalled that it’s OCTOBER 19 and I haven’t posted my usual Hallowe’en reviews. (You have twelve days left, just in case you lost count.) In past years I do feel like I’ve done more, and I did, in fairness, review The Little Kitten for you in July? But, excuses excuses! I’ve had this post in my back pocket for a while now, and haven’t written it, in essence, because covid has taken its toll on us all, and figuring Hallowe’en out is a complicated thing this year.

But, on reflection, this is a perfect Covid-19 time Hallowe’en book: Screech!: Ghost Stories from Old Newfoundland by Charis Cotter, with illustrations by Genevieve Simms. Nimbus sent this to me, very kindly and very quickly, so I got to read it before Hallowe’en, and I’m going to beg you– if you’re Canadian and want a copy, would you consider buying it from my old hometown book shop, Tidewater Books, in Sackville, New Brunswick? (If you’re in the USA, you may not want to pay international shipping, so I’ll let you buy it at your local shop or mine, here!)

Can we talk about Nimbus’s infallibly great cover designs? This is brilliant.

Here’s the thing: I’m not a girl for scary stories or scary movies and I still haven’t forgiven my dad for the day I was watching Disney’s Fantasia and ran away in terror from The Rite of Spring scene with the viciously murdery dinosaurs and he pretended to be a dinosaur and I fled sobbing upstairs. But: I love Hallowe’en. It’s not about scary for me… it’s about playing with identity through costumes, and it’s about the spooky, the unknown just around the corner… the unknowable, perhaps, as much as the unknown. That’s why you need this book this year. Allow me to emphasize: IF YOU HAVE HALLOWE’EN PLANS OR NEED TO MAKE HALLOWE’EN PLANS THIS YEAR, PLEASE BUY THIS BOOK, THANK YOU. LINKS ABOVE.

Let me explain my expertise: I had a childhood of Hallowe’ens in Sackville, New Brunswick. I’m not saying we did the most innovative and creative costumes every year (though the Three-Headed Monster costume was GENIUS, and I have yet to hear of a better idea from anyone ever), but the playfulness was there, and so was a bit of nice anarchy to accompany the homier traditions. We kids rambled and ran through leaves, probably making enormous messes that grown-ups had to rake up after us with a sigh. We had the perfect balance of tradition (my mother ALWAYS made us beans with hotdogs in them Hallowe’en night) and innovation (costume planning fun, slight alterations in route: “can we turn here?”, new pumpkin ideas) every year. The move to Toronto from Sackville, from a Hallowe’en perspective, was a severe disappointment. You couldn’t ramble, people drove around for trick-or-treating, which I consider, to this day, sacrilegious, and it was over way too soon. Too much candy, insufficient costuming. OBVIOUSLY no one baked, because the very IDEA of giving a stranger a homemade cookie is simply terrifying! I dunno, Hallowe’en in the Maritimes is a special thing, and I don’t think you city-dwellers have the right of it, sorry.

Now, what does this have to do with books, you’re asking? And would I please be so kind as to tell you about this book of ghost stories? Patience, readers.

This year is, you may have noticed, different. I don’t know about you, but my family’s decided against trick-or-treating this year (I’m sure this depends on location, but here in Massachusetts we’re being extra careful so that we don’t have to close schools again, basically). My Changeling will be changing costumes (probably three times, she has several ideas) at home, not rambling from house to house with her cousin. And I thought: “We have to do something special. We have to bring out the spooky playfulness of Hallowe’en at home.” We’re going to decorate. We’re going to have a backyard scavenger hunt to get a bit of candy in there, fine, but we’re also doing spooky candles (she thought we should put them in pairs to look like glowing eyes, isn’t that a great idea?), and I’ll make our traditional Hallowe’en supper (we don’t do beans with hotdogs, we do mac and cheese, and she can help me cut out cookies) and I have LOTS of stories she doesn’t know about yet.

Why emphasize stories, apart from the mere fact of “Deborah likes Hallowe’en stories”? Look, if you want spooky, what do you do? You sit by a flickering candle and read spooky stories, of course! Think of the background to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, for example! (Which is told in a great picture book, by the way.) But, more to the point of this post– think of the traditional ghost story: in the fall and winter, as the nights close in, you need entertainment… and the delightfully chilling and warming of a spooky story as you sit round the flames together, passing the hours with a yarn and a good apple and a drink… but then the winds batter the windows and somewhere a door slams and everyone jumps…! Now, that’s Hallowe’en.

In grad school, my supervisor had the right of it: every Samhain she read us a spooky story, usually translated from Old Irish, sometimes Middle Welsh, and we’d sit, rapt, listening to her. (Yes, my supervisor was the best.)

Now: if you want to experience that as a family, this book is for you.

OK, let’s circle back to my sentence where I said: “I’m not a girl for scary stories or scary movies.” That’s true. I actually read this book carefully and slowly and with trepidation. I’m such a wimp that I read Bram Stoker’s Dracula during bright daylight hours, laughing at the overdone descriptions and chuckling at the obviousness of it all… then couldn’t sleep all night and checked on my daughter about six times to make sure no one was hovering, bloodthirsty, over her bed. I’m a wimp.

And I read Screech! with zero problems sleeping at night thereafter, but with many a spooky shiver in the process of going through each delightfully told story as darkness closed around the house. There’s a difference between a horror story and a ghost story, and this collection nails it. Screech! is a beautiful book, and I can’t let this review go without nodding to Genevieve Simms’s evocative illustrations which enhance rather than spoil each story. It’s also a toolkit, rather than a horror novel. It tells of the mysterious, the unknown, the uncanny, the unheimlich, and the fabulous. Some stories breathe an air of potential danger– some of sorrow, loss, or desperation– but some are, instead, shadows of old joys, lingering on at the end of autumn with a wistful passing sigh… The idea is of ghostliness, not simply scariness, and I love the spooky, uncanny telling of a joyful ghost story as much as of a screechy, scary, cackling ghost story.

The images that flicker through each story still resonate in my mind, just as a good ghost story should: an eerie light in the darkness, fog over water, a shadowy dancer, a bell in the night, a blue shawl over a field…

But what I love best in this collection is this: as I said, it’s a toolkit, with instructions at the back to guide you through telling a scary story (or not-so-scary, but still spooky, story!), so you can share these stories with your kids and families. The book is introduced by information about where these stories came from, so that you can feel as firmly embedded in the hominess of the uncanniness as any Newfoundlander, and each story is followed by precise details about the gathering of each tale.

This is a brilliant book, and I felt nostalgic in the reading of it– I felt crisp air and crisp leaves, I started to panic about “oh no, what if it snows on Hallowe’en?” (that doesn’t happen here, but did back home occasionally), and I felt a yearning to make cookies. (I should really make cookies.) But I have the funniest feeling…

I feel like, even if you’re not from Atlantic Canada? I think you’ll still feel a creepy nostalgia in the reading of this book. I think it’s that sort of book, that takes you back home, that reaches foggy fingers into the “spooky” bit of your brain, and that you just revel in forever afterwards.

Please, consider getting this quickly before Hallowe’en! You have twelve more days! And then make cookies and hot chocolate, or mull some cider, get in costume, turn out the lights… light a candle (maybe pairs of candles, like glowing eyes in the darkness)…

And tell a ghost story.

(For Hallowe’en picture books: please search “Hallowe’en” on the blog and you’ll turn up lots! I may do a follow-up post with a link to all picture books for Hallowe’en here, but haven’t time right now.)