Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

I’ve had an early, unbound copy of today’s featured book for the longest time and, after deciding just this week to showcase some art from it, I see that it arrived on shelves just this past week. I have the best luck with the timing of these things, since I’m not organized enough to actually plan ahead.

So, the book is a story by author Elka Weber, called One Little Chicken, illustrated by Elisa Kleven (Tricycle Press). It retells a story in the Talmud. Well, wait. I’ll let the author tell you a bit more, as this comes straight from the closing author’s note:

“Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa lived in Israel in the frst century. He was so poor he sometimes had to live from one week to the next on nothing more than a few carob seeds, but he was so righteous that the Talmud says the entire world was sustained by his goodness.

Rabbi Chanina carefully followed all the teachings in the Torah. Among them is the directive to return lost property to its owner. (‘If you see another person’s animal, you shall not hide from it; you must return it to the owner. If the owner is not known to you, then you should bring the object into your house, where it shall remain until the owner inquires after it, and you will return it to him. So shall you do for his donkey, his garment, or any lost article that you may find. . . .’ …) Read the rest of this entry �

This morning over at my Kirkus column, I’m considering—in a somewhat creative (okay, maybe goofy) manner—my 9 to 12 favorite picture book titles thus far in 2011. When Kirkus asked me to do my “best of” list, I was hesitant to do a straight-up, traditional “bests” list. And that’s for different reasons that I explain over in the column, but one reason I don’t mention is … well, see this?

I saw this about two days ago, after submitting my column, and thought HOLY WOW. (The illustrations are a force of nature, so to speak.) So, yeah. That. I knew, when composing my “bests” lists, that I simply haven’t seen all of 2011’s top picture books. No, really. I blog about picture books and illustration, and my house is about to fall over with stacks and stacks of picture books, but I can’t see them all. I’m sure there are some stunners I’ve missed here and missed there and missed all around me.

So, all that’s to say I just got kind of silly … um, creative … in composing the 9 to 12 list. (And OF COURSE I did 12. I’ll always take the larger number.) But what it boils down to, silly or not, is that those are my favorites from the year. My favorites from what I’ve managed to see.

And for those of you who have asked if I’ll share the picture book titles I mentioned at this workshop in Knoxville, Tennessee? Well, these titles over at Kirkus were some of the first I mentioned in my presentation (though I covered many more there).

The link is here this morning.

As for what I did at Kirkus last week, don’t miss yesterday’s interview with Tim Egan, a sort of follow-up to last week’s column.

Nope, that’s not author/illustrator Tim Egan, though I promise he’s pictured below in the interview. That’s Farmer Fred, one of my favorite picture book protagonists. He’s from Egan’s 2003 title, Serious Farm. Farmer Fred doesn’t smile much. “He wasn’t a sad fellow,” Egan writes, “just very serious.” He subscribes to the notion that there’s nothing funny about corn, not to mention there is no humor in tomatoes. (He kinda does have a point there, doesn’t he?) And, because he owns the farm, his farm animals are all extremely serious, too. See what I mean?

Until, that is, one night when Edna, the cow, declares that “it’s okay to be serious, but not all the time. We need some laughter.” Thus begins the animals’ secret plan to “make the farm more fun.” Read the rest of this entry �

The winners of the Society of Illustrators’ 2011 Original Art award have been officially announced at the Society’s site. Here’s the low-down.

Fun. I’ve said it before, but it was wonderful to have been asked to be a part of that jury. Now I’m thinking I should see if I can snag the artist holding the Gold Medal in her hands for a Q&A, don’t you?

My blogging pace is slow this week. I’ve got a manuscript deadline of my own to wrap up. Dangling citations (as in, I have a lot of them to wrap up before the weekend) is how I just put it to a friend and then realized that’d be a great band name. The Dangling Citations! I call it! (Also: Cowbell! I get to play cowbell. Called it.)

But I hope to be back Thursday. Until then, enjoy the cover of the Gold Medal winner, and please head on over to their site to see the Silver Medal winners, as well as more information in general:

It’s the first Sunday of August (whoa, it feels like just yesterday I said that for January 2011), so it’s time to shine the spotlight on a student or new-to-the-field illustrator. And I’m doing the latter today — not a student, but an artist whose first illustrated picture book was just released this year (the only picture book this year, I can safely say, in which a sheep is slaughtered, grilled, and made into shish kebab). Maria Zaikina rendered the art in Lucine Kasbarian’s The Greedy Sparrow: An Armenian Tale, released by Marshall Cavendish in April, with layers of wax and oil paint and then cut away the layers to reveal the colors underneath. (Is this a sort of scratchboarding, perhaps?) I’m a nerd who, yes, reads reviews for fun, and I like how Kirkus described the illustrations as having, as you can see above, “an appealing, vigorous heft.” Yeah. What they said.

But, first. Quickly. It just occurred to me that it’s the five-year anniversary of 7-Imp. I’d almost forgotten. Back last month, when I realized a birthday was coming up, I figured I should do something special for the big five-year one. But then I got busy, and now I’m at a loss anyway. I’d really rather just do what I always do — feature some art. But I want to say, quickly: One of the reasons I started this blog five years ago—co-founded it, remember, with my best friend, who is still my best friend but just no longer a blogger (here’s the low-down)—was to connect with others and to keep my foot in the door of children’s lit. I was suddenly at home (my choice) with young babies, who were puddin’ heads (though screamy ones) and kept me on my toes, but altogether incapable of expounding on the latest and greatest in children’s lit with me. (All I was gettin’ was some goo-gah here and some baa-baa there.) I was no longer in a school library, where I could gab daily with teachers and other librarians who loved children’s and YA lit as much as I did. And I really missed that. Read the rest of this entry �

This morning over at Kirkus, I have a brief tribute to Tim Egan’s very funny books — all in good time, seeing as how his latest beginning reader title for children, Dodsworth in Rome, is out this year. The Kirkus link is here, if you’re so inclined to head over there and find out why THERE’S NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT CORN.

Oh! Note to fellow Egan fans: He will be visiting 7-Imp for a breakfast interview in the very near future.

Last week’s column highlighted two new picture books, one featuring Indian-American protagonists and another one that tells a story from Indian folklore. That link is here, if you’d like to read more about the books, but today I share some art from them. Pictured above is the opening spread from Gerald McDermott’s Monkey: A Trickster Tale from India (Harcourt), and a couple more spreads from that are at the close of this post. First up is some of the artwork (without the text) from F. Zia’s Hot, Hot Roti for Dada-ji (Lee & Low Books), illustrated by Ken Min.

Enjoy. Read the rest of this entry �

This morning I’m featuring the oil paintings of Maureen Hyde, and evidently this is her first illustrated title (from Gingerbread House) in about twenty-five years. What she has illustrated here is an imagined boyhood story from the life of Saint Francis of Assisi, written by Josephine Nobisso. (Yes, since I posted about this picture book so recently, I figured I should mention this one sooner rather than later.) “Our story is set in the very early morning—before anyone else is awake to observe it—in order to propose an imagined moment in the boyhood of Saint Francis of Assisi,” the author writes. “Do forgive our taking liberties with history! Even though the details may not be true, they are, at least, possible. When one is a saint, after all, any goodness is possible.”

Seven possible goodnesses before breakfast. I like it. Read the rest of this entry �

This morning over at Kirkus, I’m highlighting two new picture books, one featuring Indian-American protagonists and another one that tells a story from Indian folklore. (In the case of the latter, two words: Gerald McDermott. All you gotta know, right?) That link is here this morning. (AND, if you’re so inclined to take a fun quiz, my QRANK quiz, all about the beloved pets of children’s lit, is up today at this link. Yes, there’s a Ribsy sighting!)

If you missed last week’s column, I wrote about Steve Voake’s Daisy Dawson early chapter-book series (Candlewick), which—as I said last week—I think flies entirely too under the radar. That link is here.

And today I share some art from the series. Read the rest of this entry �

I feel like I should say something dramatic here, such as, if you read any one 7-Imp post this year, let it be this one. And that’s because today I’m shining the spotlight on the folks at Literacyhead.com, a bi-weekly magazine connecting literacy and the visual arts. They came to my attention months ago, and gracious knows they’ve been ever-so patient with me, since I told them about that long ago that I wanted to post about what they do. I’m finally getting to it. Ahem, better late than never, yes?

And here’s why I love them: Well, I feel like the real heroes out there, as cliché as this may sound, are the teachers and school librarians of the world, working tirelessly day-to-day in our oft-beleaguered schools. I tend to run my mouth here at 7-Imp about illustration (in particular)—oh, I can wax annoyingly poetic for days about just one book or just one eloquent illustration or one very funny spread—but every now and then, when I can, I like to shine the spotlight on people doing the hands-on work in educating our children. (And those of you interested in literacy are reading Jen Robinson’s blog, Carol Rasco’s blog, and Terry Doherty’s Reading Tub, yes? I’m probably forgetting a slew of other great literacy blogs, but when in doubt or when needing even more info, go to those smart, passionate ladies for the low-down.)

So, where was I? Right. Why do I love Literacyhead? Because, as you can see at this page of their site, the folks over there love children’s literature and art (“the connections between the two make us positively giddy”); they want to “help teachers nurture their creative lives while they meet the demands of high accountability to which they are subject”; and they “believe that the arts are a basic component of a healthy life, not an afterthought or a bonus if there is time or funding.”

So, taking these beliefs, they use art to assist teachers in illustrating to children the writing process, to support comprehension of books, and to provide writing workshops. They also provide book recommendations, essays, reviews, visual aids and graphic organizers, and much more. I’m not currently in a school library and haven’t tried this out, but their work sounds impressive to me, and I wanted to hand the blog over to them today so that they could tell us more. (Yes, when you catch me facing a manuscript deadline, you get to interview yourself at 7-Imp, and I’m glad they were game.)

Oh, best thing of all about Literacyhead? They believe “that art is the most promising catalyst for social change,” and they “want children to begin to think that they need and deserve beauty in their lives.” Finger snap. Head roll. They are kindred souls, you see. If you read my blog at all, you know I second these beliefs. I mean, check out this page: There are galleries for Taeeun Yoo, Shadra Strickland, Jon J Muth, and more. The illustration junkie in me is swooning. Read the rest of this entry �

I’m still trying to catch up from being out of town (not to mention getting ready to leave town again for a bit), so I’m happy today to hand this post over to fledgling New York City writer and illustrator Nicholas Gannon, who formerly attended Parsons The New School for Design (where he learned that “coffee and cigarettes at 3:00 am make you feel pretty crappy”). Nicholas, it seems, is finding his footing in the field of illustration by experimenting with stories and art over at his site, Dreams in Doldrums, and his monthly publication, The Doldrums’ Press. Here he is at The Doldrums’ Press, but you’ll note, if you read closely, that he doesn’t always look so startled and, quite possibly, panic-stricken. Perhaps he just needs some coffee? I can help. (It’s not quite 3AM as I type this, and I won’t give him any cigarettes. I can do my best, though I do find surprised and fearful people quite interesting, in point of fact. So. Either way, I think we’re set.)

I’ve invited Nicholas to tell me a bit more about his art and writing. As you’ll see for yourselves, fans of Gorey and Dahl may very well enjoy Nicholas’s wry, macabre style, one that’s not afraid to embrace the doldrums with a dollop of camp, a little bit of poison and pathos, and some tragic twisty-turns. Or, as he puts it below, the “real world at a 45-degree angle.” (Oh, and Snicket fans would approve, too. I feel sure of this. And perhaps Lemony would come along and say something like, “if you don’t like this, you should be smushed by a falling truck from the sky.” Or something similar.)

See? You’ll read more about him below, but for now, meet Archer B. Helmsley:

And now here’s Nicholas, in his own words, along with lots more art . . . I thank him for sharing today. Read the rest of this entry �