Shelf Awareness--The Wildest Thing

PB Review: The Wildest Thing

The Wildest Thing by Emily Winfield Martin (Random House Books for Young Readers, 9798217023981)

The Wildest Thing by Emily Winfield Martin (The Imaginaries; The Wonderful Things You Will Be) splendidly depicts one quiet girl's dream of "wild things" welcomed into her heart and home.

Eleanor "dreamed of things... with fur and fin./ And when the/ sun came up/ the Wild had come in." Bunnies hop through her bedroom, squirrels skitter through her kitchen, and her couch has turned into a bear. But Eleanor wants to be wild, too, so she flutters her wings, hides in a den, and howls. Deer, foxes, and wolves all join Eleanor for tea and cake, after which she pounces, hops, and "prowl[s] around the room." She flips, flops, unfurls, and she "bloom[s]!" As night falls Eleanor takes a tumble, after which she's ready for her bath (with a swan and cygnets, a bunny, and some fish nearby, of course) and climbs into bed under a full moon, where "in the place between awake/ and dreams not yet begun," she hears a voice that loves her say, "Good night, my wild one."

This idyllic story springs to life through Martin's radiant colored pencil, gouache, and acrylic art, wherein daytime pastels are bookended by the deep blues and greens of magical night. The author/illustrator's ravishing art, soft and sweet, yet solid and precise builds a believably whimsical world in which Eleanor's adventures come alive. Martin's rhyming text has a gentle cadence that rises and falls as the wonders of Eleanor's day unfold, making The Wildest Thing a delightful dream of creativity, imagination, and getting wild. --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author. Originally printed in Shelf Awareness.

Shelf Awareness--Break Wide the Sea

YA Review: Break Wide the Sea

Break Wide the Sea by Sara Holland (Wednesday Books, 9781250854490)

Break Wide the Sea by Sara Holland (Phoenix Flame) is the first installment of a darkly romantic series containing aquatic fae and a tidal wave of betrayed love and ruinous curses.

Eighteen-year-old, "dark blonde"-haired Annie Fairfax is cursed. "In the old days," when finfolk magic was stronger, "they could curse an entire... bloodline." The Fairfaxes, who run one of Kirkrell's prosperous whaling companies, are one such family, doomed by a monstrous "heartbreak" curse that passes through the generations. A brokenhearted Fairfax becomes a scaled, clawed creature blinded by bloodlust.

Annie's curse activated six years ago when her parents drowned in a finfolk attack and Annie took control of the Fairfax Whaling Company. Whalers hunt Livyati, magical whales prized by the seafaring people of Kirkrell. However, Livyati sightings are decreasing as finfolk attacks increase. At least Annie has stalwart fiancé August by her side. When half-finfolk captain Silas Price seeks Annie out to tell her the curse can be broken, he insists she must agree to stop killing Livyati. If she doesn't, devastating war with the finfolk is inevitable. And, Silas says, Annie desperately needs to lift the curse soon--August is about to betray her.

Holland's oceanic setting is inherently high-stakes, and the author capitalizes on the danger and romance that long days and nights on a whaling expedition afford. Holland undoubtedly succeeds at the difficult task she has set for herself: create a compelling plot with a main character who is, in her own words, "weak and avoidant and fragile." Hand this title to fans of Tricia Levenseller's Daughter of the Pirate King or Bethany C. Morrow's A Song Below Water. --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author. Originally printed in Shelf Awareness.

December Recommendations

ISLAND STORM, written by Brian Floca and illustrated by Sydney Smith, is a gorgeously written, gorgeously illustrated book from two top talents. A pair of siblings leave their house to “go see/the sea before the storm.” The wind blows and grows, the trees sway, branches bouncing “against each other, knock knock knock,” waves “SMASH/on the rocks/and EXPLODE/into spray.” The children ask “is this enough, or do we try for more?” They go on, past homes old and new, neighbors, marshes, meadows, their town, until “BOOM! RUN!” they take the shortest way home through shadows and gloom and wind and water, to home and relief and love, to trouble and forgiveness, towels, dry clothes, dinner and warm beds, while outside thunder rolls and rumbles until the storm passes. The pitch-perfect poetic text is dramatic, accompanied by deeply-hued impressionistic art that's a treat, full of motion and power, but also soft and tender.

THE SLIGHTLY SPOOKY TALE OF FOX AND MOLE, by Cecilia Heikkilä, tells of two friends who are busy all summer, Mole joining the fun when tourists come from the city, and Fox making cookies and jam and tea. When chilly weather arrives, Mole joins Fox every evening to eat snacks and listen to The Legend of the Scuffling Monster. One night, Fox finds that Mole has eaten all the cookies and jam in the pantry, leaving only “cabbages and an old jar of pickled herring.” And on Fox’s birthday, instead of “presents and a song from Mole,” the diminutive neighbor shows up demanding cookies (or even pickled herring)! Furious, Fox transforms into a monster who shows up at Mole’s house, where the terrified Mole tells his own story of greed and forgetfulness, a spooky but “overall, quite good” story with a warm, cozy ending. This satisfying, complex, slightly dark cautionary tale is beautifully illustrated with watercolor, gouache, and pastels, digitally finished. Very nicely done.

TULIP’S MESS, by Anden Wilder, features a “small pile… just a little Mess,” who follows the Tulip to school, to meals, and even joins the girl and Ta, “her favorite stuffed cat,” in bed. Mess picks up dirty socks, bedtime books, cereal spoons, scrap paper and pencil shavings, wrappers and crumbs, and even “Ta’s leaky stuffing.” But when Tulip isn’t looking, her small pile grows into a bigger, hungrier, chomping and chewing and gobbling Mess that becomes “impossible to ignore.” Finally, after Tulip hears a “horrifying SLURP!” and Ta is devoured, too, the girl dives in headfirst to save her beloved stuffed kitty. And manages to wrangle Mess back into “a small pile like before.” Which is “just fine.” Entertaining text is accompanied by appealing gouache illustrations that heavily favor pinks, blues, light yellows, and Mess’s squiggly gray. Gentle and sweet; also, thankfully, pro small Mess!

TAKE A BREATH, BIG RED MONSTER!, written and illustrated by Ed Emberly, is a follow up (many years later) to his groundbreaking GO AWAY, BIG GREEN MONSTER! which was a standout for my kids and me. I still have our ragged old copy. This book, rather than encouraging readers to be brave, offers strategies for self-calming when furious. Beginning with “two mean green eyes… a big thundery loud mouth, [and] two hot smoking ears,” readers deconstruct their anger via die cuts that add and change the look of the monster’s face. Kids can practice along, all the way to a “big monster smile.”

In ORPHELINE, written by Katelyn Aronson and illustrated by Dow Phumiruk, after a storm, Cora finds a baby mermaid “nestled in an abalone shell,” and brings her home. Cora, Mama, and pup Rascal do what they can, feeding the baby, letting her splash in the tub, and taking her for rides along the beach. But when Cora hears a distant voice calling, she realizes that the baby, Orpheline, must have her own home with a mother who’s missing her. Cora doesn’t want to give Orpheline up, but as Orphie’s smile slips away, Cora must decide whether to do what she wants, or to do the right thing and return the baby to her true home in the sea. Gentle and loving, Aronson’s well-crafted story and Phumiruk’s colored pencil and digital illustrations both glimmer like sunshine on the sea.

In THE LIBRARY IN THE WOODS, written by Calvin Alexander Ramsey and illustrated by R. Gregory Christie, a hailstorm finally spells the end of farming for Junior’s family. They move into Roxboro, where Daddy gets a job at a lumberyard and Momma takes in “washing and ironing from the white people in town.” Junior finds out from kids in his neighborhood that he now has access to a library where Black people can take out books. Books about “sports, history, science, poetry, biographies… books [that seem] to go on forever… books by Black authors that [he] never knew existed before.” Junior runs home to share a book about George Washington Carver with his father, but doesn’t understand why Daddy sits in his rocking chair, holding the book without reading it. When Momma explains, Junior “gently” takes the book from his father’s hands and reads it aloud. It’s intensely moving, with eloquent text and acrylic paintings.

--Lynn

December's Book of the Month--Santa's First Christmas

SANTA’S FIRST CHRISTMAS, written by Mac Barnett and illustrated by Sydney Smith, is warm, cozy, and bursting with holiday cheer.

It’s the low stakes but satisfying tale of how, “in the old days,” Santa made toys up at the North Pole, which he loaded onto his sleigh and delivered to homes all over the world on Christmas Eve. Then he went home and slept, only to wake up on Christmas morning and begin working again.

But when a polar bear wonders why Santa ”doesn’t do anything special” on Christmas, the elves are embarrassed. They start thinking that maybe Santa does need “something special” for Christmas. So they bring him breakfast in bed and wish him Merry Christmas. They help him pick out a (very large) tree, bring it home, and decorate it. There are stockings, and a fire, and Santa thinks it’s fun! Colorful lights, ghost stories and poems, “a sack full of gifts,” and a wonderful meal later, and Santa wants to do it again, every year. It seems they do!

SANTA’S FIRST CHRISTMAS is full of generosity, gently told but with hints of sly humor so it’s not overly sentimental. The art is warm and gentle, too, with rich colors, dynamic patterns, and the minimally rendered faces are full of expression. Cheerful and charming, it’s just the thing for snuggly holiday storytimes.

--Lynn

Shelf Awareness--Ren's Pencil

PB Review: Ren's Pencil

Ren's Pencil by Bo Lu (Abrams Books for Young Readers, 40p., ages 4-8, 9781419769221, February 3, 2026)

Tender and dreamlike, Ren's Pencil by Bo Lu (Bao's Doll) depicts imagination and a "magic" pencil helping ease one girl's transition from her life in "the East" to an unfamiliar new home in "the West."

Ren loves "magical stories... where a brush [makes] pictures come alive." She, Popo, and Popo's yellow-orange cat snuggle and imagine themselves together in books about "princesses trapped under pagodas, rescued by fairies," and other magical tales "from the East." Then one day Ren's parents tell her they're "moving to the West" so they can "build something new." Ren desperately wants to stay where she is with Popo. But Popo hands Ren a pencil and gently assures her she will make her own magic in the West.

When Ren gets there, everything is different. Faces and hair are "unusual colors" and even her name is wrong; she's told that in school she'll be called Lauren. Words in books look like "upside-down letters" and Ren cannot "imagine herself in these stories." When she misunderstands the word "short" while getting a haircut, she can't even recognize her own face in the mirror afterward. Ren longs to be "with Popo and her magical stories"--"maybe everything would feel right again."

Just then, a flash of yellow-orange streaks by. Ren chases a giant cat, who invites her to "hop on," and she enters a dreamscape of "strange trees and houses" and "upside-down letters" that dance in the sky. A yellow orange-haired princess in a tower needs saving and, when no fairies appear, Ren sees the "soft glow" of the pencil Popo gave her: "Make your own magic." Ren does just that and saves the princess, with whom she begins to share her drawings. In time and with hard work, Ren begins to make friends and, "like magic," letters begin to make sense.

Bo Lu's expressive language feels intensely personal as she relates how Ren uses her pencil to communicate and create her own "something new." Lu's pencil, watercolor, and digital illustrations are soft with dark blues and purples to indicate the world of stories; she switches styles to include naïve art for the drawings done by Ren herself. Lu seamlessly entwines Ren's inner and outer lives as she portrays how important imagination is when coping with uncertainty. Art and storytelling provide a familiar place wherein Ren can learn to paint her new and old homes together into stories where she belongs. --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author. Originally printed in Shelf Awareness.

Shelf Awarenesss--Frog

PB Review: Frog

Frog: A Story of Life on Earth by Isabel Thomas, illus. by Daniel Egnéus (Bloomsbury Children's Books, 48p., ages 5-8, 9781547618200, January 13, 2026)

Frog: A Story of Life on Earth is the third utterly absorbing nonfiction picture book collaboration between author Isabel Thomas and illustrator Daniel Egnéus (Moth; Fox), this time linking the evolution of frogs to the origins of the universe.

A child with a net wades through "a pond full of jelly-like eggs" that will one day grow legs and become "frogs that lay eggs of their own." The ensuing chicken-and-egg question--"if frogs come from eggs, and eggs come from frogs, where did the first frog come from?"--proves the perfect jumping-off point for a journey back in time. The text reverses to a period before frogs and people, all the way "back to the beginning" when time began, and then back even further to when "everything that is, was, and ever will be was squashed together in a superheated speck too tiny to imagine."

That speck expands with a Big Bang to become the universe, "still small enough to hold in your hands" and "fizz[ing] with energy." But "there were no frogs yet." Time begins with new "tiny specks of stuff" that appear, "dashing and veering, colliding, disappearing," as the universe cools and forms atoms. The atoms gather into huge, hot clouds and create even bigger atoms. Billions of years later, these first stars explode, and their stardust is "the stuff that forms new stars and planets." Included in this star-stuff is Earth, a planet with a "not too hot, and not too cool" surface that collects rain "in dips and dents." In one pond "something spectacular" happens. Chemicals form the first cell, which multiplies and evolves into larger forms of life, "from sponges to sea squirts to fish that laid eggs," and from there into "the ancestors of every animal with four limbs," amphibians, including frogs.

Thomas expertly distills massive ideas into tangible facts in a dynamic text that wisely includes both a child stand-in and repeatedly returns to frogs as the touchpoint for exploring the universe. Egnéus's mixed-media illustrations are striking, featuring over-saturated colors and shapes that exude energy and motion. The art is so inventive and nearly neon that it demands viewers' attention. Back matter tells "the [greatly abridged] Story of Everything" in one final supplementary spread offering a bit more context. This clever, fascinating approach to evolution is told through the undeniably child-friendly lens of frogs, who are, clearly, nothing less than "the story of the universe." --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author. Originally printed in Shelf Awareness.

November's Book of the Month--The Boy Who Became a Parrot

November Book of the Month is an exceptional picture book, THE BOY WHO BECAME A PARROT: A Foolish Biography of Edward Lear, Who Invented Nonsense, written by Wolverton Hill and illustrated by Laura Carlin.

Edward Lear, was the “wildly imaginative man” who famously wrote The Owl and the Pussycat, and who loved “animals, music, travel, chocolate shrimps, pancakes, and his cat, Foss. And… children who sometimes misbehave.”

Born in London in 1812, Edward grew up with older sisters who taught him to paint and draw, provided books about “plants and animals, mythology and adventure,” and allowed him to “dream of faraway places, both real and imagined.” Teenage Edward sold his artwork on street corners and, before long, his talent was noticed by “important people.” He was hired to work in London Zoo, where he drew and painted all manner of “remarkable creatures.” His watercolors were praised for displaying “a feeling for the fast beat of a heart, the wetness of a twitching nose, the stress of animals far from their familiar habitat.”

Soon regarded as “one of England’s foremost natural history artists,” Edward was invited to draw the Earl of Derby’s private menagerie. It was here he also began entertaining the “jumble-bumble of England’s finest” children, the “sons and daughters of British nobility” who gathered at the estate, and where he revealed “his most enduring gift—the ability to make people laugh.”

He drew the Manypeeplia Upsidownia plant to show the kids where children really came from, introduced them to the Scroobious Pip from the Humbly Islands, wrote limericks “with shocks of suspense and humor,” and in 1846 published “A Book of Nonsense,” which he wrote and illustrated himself.

Feeling stifled by English society, when Lear left the Duke’s estate, he began “traveling the world and inventing his own.” He had adventures and was awarded commissions, and he eventually adopted a cat, drawing himself and Foss over and over again in poems and letters. When Foss died in 1887, Lear himself died six months later.

This exquisite biography unfurls in page upon page of Hill’s whimsy-filled text that’s stuffed with drawings by Carlin—with some of Lear’s thrown in, too—and the whole package manages to convey a lovely sense of the man. It’s a tale of excellence and creativity unleashed, and is full of the wonder of the genius that was Edward Lear.

--Lynn