Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Here’s an idea for a 4th of July celebration: Grab your favorite child to curl up and read Bryan Collier’s picture book adaptation of Langston Hughes’s iconic poem, “I, Too, Sing America.” This morning over at Kirkus, I chat briefly with Bryan about it. Next week at 7-Imp, I’ll have one more spread from the book.

The Kirkus link is here.

It’s so hot and dry in middle Tennessee that we are banned from the use of fireworks, so someone please light a sparkler for me.

There’s a lot I want to say about how much I enjoy the artwork of illustrator Meilo So (pictured here with her daughter), whether she’s working in watercolors or gouache or pencil, but I’ve spent so much time poring over her artwork that I need to just go ahead and post this interview before I’m found slumped over my keyboard. Really, I’ve been looking all googly-eyed at her website for weeks now.

Though I’ve enjoyed Meilo’s illustrated picture books over the years, it was her work in this Spring’s Water Sings Blue (Chronicle), poems written by Kate Coombs, that made me up and ask her about an interview. (I previously wrote about that book here at 7-Imp during a visit with Kate.) The Horn Book review describes Meilo’s illustrations for Kate’s poetry collection as none other than “splendid.” Indeed, they are. Very nearly breathtaking.

Meilo, who was born in Hong Kong, but now—as you’ll read below—lives in Scotland, has illustrated many beloved, acclaimed books. As I’m wont to do, I’ll let her art mostly speak here; you’ll see included below in our breakfast chat many illustrations from some of her previous titles, including some artwork from two beautiful books not available here in the U.S. The New York Times once wrote that Meilo’s illustrations are “luminous, the colors seeming to shine through the pages like a sunrise through stained glass.” You’ll see a lot of that below. Again, breathtaking.

Clearly, I’m a fan.

And this October, other Meilo fans will be treated to her artwork in Stephanie Spinner’s Alex the Parrot: No Ordinary Bird (Knopf). Here’s a sneak-peek at that: Read the rest of this entry �

This morning, the tables are turned.

I’m visiting Children’s Literature Network, and questions are being asked of me. “What’s Right with Children’s Literature” is Tom Owens’s wonderful column in which he asks folks, 1) What’s right right now with children’s literature? and 2) What could be done to make that good “better”? I highly recommend exploring his archives to hear what others have to say.

Here’s that link, and I thank Tom for asking me to stop by. I took some coffee with me.

I was a little busy at Kirkus this week.

Yesterday, I chatted with Sam Arthur, the Director of London-based Nobrow Press—whose books are now being distributed stateside by Consortium—about their beautifully-crafted comics, illustrated books, and children’s books. That Q & A is here. Next week here at 7-Imp, I’ll follow up with some images from some of their newer offerings.

Today, I write about the massively good (bad pun intended) Hippopposites by Janik Coat. This is the best board book for children I’ve seen all year. That link is here this morning.

Last week at Kirkus, I chatted with author/illustrator Elisha Cooper about his newest picture book, Homer. Have you seen Homer? Oh, you must. Here is that Q & A, if you missed it last week and are so inclined to read it now.

For more on Homer, you won’t want to miss this post from Elisha over at Greenwillow’s blog, Under the Green Willow, as well as the follow-up post here. Here’s an excerpt from that first post:

I read somewhere that all stories have one of two plots: man leaves town, or, man comes to town. That’s it. I was thinking about this a few years ago while looking through Kevin Henkes’s Kitten’s First Full Moon, which, in its perfect simplicity, captures the man-leaves-town plot exactly, except that in this case the man is a kitten.

I started wondering, what if I reversed this? What if the “man” doesn’t leave town, or come to town, but stays right there in town and everything comes to him?

Today I have some more art from Homer, including early sketches — and images related to the book. (Wanna see a pic of the real Homer? Read on.)

Enjoy. Read the rest of this entry �

It’s a real pleasure to have Caldecott Medalist Emily Arnold McCully visiting 7-Imp today. This is Emily pictured here, as a child, circa mid-1940s. As she notes at the bio at her site, she was a daredevil girl, born in Illinois but raised in a New York City suburb. Her hero was John Muir, and she decided to be a naturalist one day, but instead she grew up to write and illustrate stories about fellow daredevil girls, lucky for us readers.

Throughout her career in children’s literature, Emily hasn’t stuck to only one style of illustrating. As you’ll read below, she uses cartoon-like art for beginning reader titles and more dramatic pen-and-ink watercolors for her picture book biographies, many of them, as noted, about young girls or women. But, no matter the style in which she’s working, she nails it — the emotional tone, that is. Whether she’s raising the hairs on the backs of our necks in Eve Bunting’s tales (Ballywhinney Girl and The Banshee); bringing to vivid life the stories of historical figures via her watercolors, both sweeping and delicate (The Escape of Oney Judge: Martha Washington’s Slave Finds Freedom, for which she received the Jane Addams Children’s Book Award, or Manjiro: The Boy Who Risked His Life for Two Countries); or making young, emerging readers laugh with the carefree art of her Grandma I Can Read chapter books, she’s expertly creating atmosphere, putting to great use light and shadow and her shimmering watercolors to set a mood and tell a rich tale.

It was for her beautiful impressionistic paintings in Mirette on the High Wire that Emily won the 1993 Caldecott Medal, and she received the Christopher Award in 1985 for the splendid tale that is Picnic. Read the rest of this entry �

This morning over at Kirkus, I chat with Elisha Cooper (pictured here from my 2008 7-Imp interview) about Homer, his newest picture book and one of my favorite picture books of 2012 thus far.

Here’s a brief excerpt:

‎”When I was painting the book, I’m sure I was thinking about my daughters. They were heading off to summer camp before returning to me at the end of their day. But in some larger sense, I knew they were also heading off into their lives. This letting-go stuff still sort of kills me. But I know it’s important. If we create space for those we love, then love will come into that space.”

Here’s the rest.

As always, next week here at 7-Imp, I’ll have some more art from it.

Until next time …

“Becoming an artist,” writes author/illustrator Eric Velasquez at his site, “was a natural choice for me. I have never thought of being anything else.” Born to Afro-Puerto Rican parents and growing up in Harlem, Eric developed a love for art, music, and film from his mother, father, and grandmother. In 1983, he earned his degree from the School of Visual Arts and moved on to a career in freelance illustrating.

And if you follow children’s lit—particularly if you’re a fan of those illustrators who work in oils, pastels, and realism—it’s likely you know his work. The growing list of book jackets and illustrations he’s done is getting hard to keep up with, to be frank. “To describe illustrator Eric Velasquez as a ‘prolific artist,'” wrote The Brown Bookshelf in 2010, “would be an understatement.” In 1999, he was awarded the Coretta-Scott King/John Steptoe Award for New Talent for the illustrations in his debut picture book, Debbi Chocolate’s The Piano Man, published by Walker Books for Young Readers.

Read the rest of this entry �

Over the years, I’ve found Valeri Gorbachev’s picture books (both ones he’s written and illustrated, as well as those written by others that he’s illustrated) to be a breath of fresh air. To be sure, I think he has a contemporary Richard-Scarry vibe—more than any other illustrator working today—but his artwork still possesses, at the same time, a style that is all his own.

(Pictured left is his self-portrait, which won me over right away.)

As I’ve written previously here at 7-Imp, when Valeri, who immigrated to the United States from the Ukraine in 1991, illustrates a new children’s title, I always go running to get a copy. (If you do the same, you stay busy, huh? He’s illustrated over fifty books in his career. Well over that number, I would bet. And I should have clarified this, but let’s carry on.) What do I love about his work? His pen-and-ink and watercolor illustrations are terrifically kid-friendly — without being condescending to child readers. His colors are always cozy and warm. His expressive, detailed character work—always anthropomorphized animals who are endearing, yet never saccharine—always wins me over, and there’s a subtle humor in his work as well. There’s also usually a real sense of community that pervades his titles, and he creates original cumulative tales that really work.

With the recent release of a new title he both penned and illustrated, Catty Jane Who Hated the Rain (Boyds Mill Press, April 2012), I invited Valeri over for a 7-Imp cyber-breakfast. I’ve wanted to do this for years, and I’m pleased he’s here. “I’m not very creative in my breakfast,” he told me. “Usually, I like sausage. In my life, I’ve probably eaten enough sausages at breakfast that they can be looped around the world a few times. And, of course, I have to have my cup of coffee. Or two. Or three.”

Three cups of coffee always works in my kitchen, so let’s get right to it. I thank Valeri for stopping by. Read the rest of this entry �

I’ve been a busy bee. This week at Kirkus, I’ll have two columns over at their Book Blogger Network.

First up: This morning is my Q & A with Jennifer Dasal, Associate Curator of Contemporary Art at the North Carolina Museum of Art, about their current exhibit, Rhythms of the Heart: The Illustration of Ashley Bryan. (Oh how I wish I could see this exhibit in person right now, but I’ll settle for doing my part to yawp about it instead.) The Q & A is here this morning, so head over there if you’d like to learn more about the exhibit, as well as the two new volumes of spirituals from Ashley that Alazar Press is releasing to commemorate this exhibit.

And, as always, I’ll follow that up next week here at 7-Imp with lots of art from the exhibit, as well as a bit more about the exhibit and the folks behind it.

Secondly: Tomorrow morning, I’ll discuss a Spring picture book release from Lemniscaat, The Man in the Clouds, from Dutch author and illustrator Koos Meinderts and Annette Fieneig. I like this mysterious little tale. That link will be here first thing tomorrow morning.

Last week at Kirkus, I wrote about the latest from Tao Nyeu, Squid and Octopus: Friends for Always. That link is here, if you missed it and are so inclined to read it. I’m happy to feature some more illustrations from it today, as no one has a style quite like Nyeu.

Enjoy. Read the rest of this entry �

I’m sitting down at the breakfast table this morning with author/illustrator Jill McElmurry. Rather, I’m handing the 7-Imp mic over to her. And I’m happy to be doing so; I’ve enjoyed many of her picture books and her expressive, detailed gouache artwork over the years.

And, as you can see at her site, she has illustrated nearly twenty books in her career. This month, she sees the release of two new picture book titles — on the same day, actually, which she discusses below. She both wrote and illustrated Mario Makes a Move (Schwartz & Wade), which I haven’t read yet. The other, Pirate Princess (HarperCollins), was written by Sudipta Bardhan-Quallen and is an anti-princess (well, anti-traditional princess) tale of a young member of the royal family who “couldn’t face [a] life wed to some prince” and wants to be a pirate instead. When she finally makes it to a pirate’s boat, the men try to have her clean and cook, but neither works out too well. Turns out Princess Bea, the protagonist who puts the very “pluck” in plucky, has another talent — but I won’t ruin the read for you with spoilers.

Kirkus calls Pirate Princess a “winning combination of smart and silly,” and about Mario Makes a Move (which is evidently about a squirrel amazing to his doting parents, but not so much his less impressed friend) Publishers Weekly writes that McElmurry’s “text and watercolor artwork capture the exuberance of the creative spirit.” The squirrel appears to have amazing moves. (It looks very funny, and I’ll have to find a copy of this one soon.) “I’m doing a reading of Mario at the end of the month with a friend (former actress),” Jill told me, “who reads the part of Mario. It’s fun to read as a pair, and this book cries out for more than one. We’re doing moves and the whole bit. I can (in my feverish imagination) picture doing it with real dancers in a larger space, someday.”

I’m going to turn it right over to Jill, and I thank her for visiting and sharing words, early sketches, and finished illustrations today. Read the rest of this entry �