Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

With apologies to T.S. Eliot, April is not the cruellest month. At least not when you celebrate it with the Academy of American Poets.

Today marks the first day of National Poetry Month 2011, and—since I get inordinately excited about it every year—my Kirkus column today celebrates with three new children’s poetry titles I like, including one Honorable Mention (only thusly named, because I didn’t have enough space to talk about four). The column is here.

Pictured left is the 2011 National Poetry Month poster, designed by Stephen Doyle. Click here or on the image itself for more info. You will even see at that page a link to request a free poster. (Also: Check out how other children’s lit bloggers will be celebrating poetry all month.)

If you missed last week’s Kirkus column, I weighed in on Lois Lowry’s newest novel for children, Bless This Mouse, illustrated by Eric Rohmann, a short novel which made me wonder about genres and labels and how, specifically, this field categorizes books with Christian content, so if you have thoughts on the matter, please go weigh in. Read the rest of this entry �

Here’s a quickie post in honor of this week’s big celebration over in Bologna. Today is the last day of The Bologna Children’s Book Fair in Italy, where children’s book publishers from all over the world have been meeting every spring for nearly fifty years, the most prestigious international event dedicated to children’s publishing. Oh how I wish I could see the illustrators’ exhibition. On Monday, for instance, everyone was treated to an exhibition on contemporary Lithuanian children’s book illustration — at least according to their site. Ah. Envious sigh. And one of my co-authors even got to meet a 7-Imp contributor—they live on opposite sides of the world from each other—and that’s just NEAT.

This morning, in the name of celebrating the work of illustrators from all over the world—which I do when I can here at 7-Imp and often with the help of the aforementioned and talented Cristiana Clerici—I bring you Italian author/illustrator Caterina Zandonella, aka Cat Zaza. I’m captivated by her illustration opening this post, and there’s a bit more from her below. As you can see at her bio, she spent most of her life outside of her home country, has traveled a great deal, and currently lives between Paris and Milan. She graduated from the Istituto Europeo di Design in Milan, majoring in illustration and multimedia animation. Her first illustrated children’s books were published in France. Read the rest of this entry �

{I know, I know. The post title might be causing headaches, but it’s all I’ve got.}

Sometimes I can hardly keep up on Facebook. As everyone knows, there’s a lot of chatter over there. That’s the point. Occasionally, it gets so loud that I just bow out for a bit.

But today I didn’t. I was part of a Facebook conversation that has resulted in what author Tammi Sauer (pictured above) and I have dubbed National Handlebar Moustache Appreciation Day. That’s tomorrow. You didn’t know? Right. ‘Cause we made it up. (I’ve checked. I don’t think it actually exists.) March 30th is now National Handlebar Moustache Appreciation Day, at least in our own easily-entertained worlds. ‘Cause moustaches of such striking shape and length deserve their own day, yes?

Well, they do, but really here’s why tomorrow is National Handlebar Moustache Appreciation Day. It went a little something like this:

1) Tammi notes on Facebook that her family had just gotten their carpets cleaned by a redhead with a handlebar moustache.

2) I pop in with, Dude. I think you need to write a picture book involving him. (“Dude” may or may not have been actually muttered. I like to pretend I don’t use it as often as I do. I’m supposed to be grown-up and stuff, not to mention I’m currently writing a book and should practice being articulate.) I also wonder who could best illustrate handlebar moustaches, and I type as much.

3) Author/illustrator Dan Santat (pictured below with his clone, who seems to have issues these days) pops in with the notion that, when Tammi said “redhead,” he imagined a female and wondered why she was sporting a fake handlebar moustache atop her lip. He’s just hard-wired to visualize weird stuff, he says. (I think that, as a picture book illustrator, this is lucky for us, but I digress.)

4) So, I proclaim: DAN IT IS! At this point, mind you, it’s just a hypothetical illustration, and I’m just being Facebook-jokey.

5) Illustrator Ward Jenkins (pictured left) comes in with an “ahem, ahem. Portland is Hipster Central with more handlebar moustaches than you can shake a stick at.”

6) Dan challenges Jenkins to a draw. Witty banter ensues. I do a few finger snaps and head rolls from the sideline and tell them, should they actually do this, I’ll post both illustrations at 7-Imp and have a vote-off for the best one.

7) Tammi declares, “may the hairiest illustrator win!” Many painfully bad puns about hair are thrown around (I may or may not be guilty of some), and fake gun sounds are typed. The duel is on.

And. [Drum roll.] The results are pictured at the top of the post. Dan clearly still had a female in mind, Ward opted for a literal interpretation of “handlebar,” and I laughed till my sides hurt.

However, instead of turning this into a competition, here’s what I’ve decided to do and where you come in, dear readers, should you want to play along: Read the rest of this entry �

At this profile of author/illustrator Claire A. Nivola (in celebration of this 2008 Candlewick title), she states, “Writing for children is a serious business.” Claire would know. Her first illustrated title was back in 1970, though she did take a break from it all for many years. “Being a mother absorbed my heart and intellect,” she writes at that link. (See also her response to the final two questions in my interview below, what I find to be a profoundly reflective response that made me nod my head an awful lot and just so happens to capture something I think about a great deal myself.) Nevertheless, Claire has been working in the field for a long time and has seen many trends in publishing books for children come and go.

I’m so pleased to have Ms. Nivola over for coffee this morning and share her rich and intricate folk-art-style illustrations with readers. She’s here to discuss her upcoming Spring picture book, all about her father’s hometown on the island of Sardinia, and I’ve got a sneak-peek into some of the illustrations from that beautiful title. And if you missed last year’s Emma’s Poem: The Voice of the Statue of Liberty, written by Linda Glaser (2010) and which was awarded the 2011 Sydney Taylor Honor Award in the Younger Readers category, you’re in for a treat this morning with some spreads here from that, as well. Claire’s very stylized, detailed illustrations are captivating, and so many of the books she’s both written and illustrated or illustrated have been nonfiction titles, thus making this a fitting post for the kidlitosphere’s Monday celebrations of nonfiction.

Let’s get right to it, and I really appreciate Claire taking the time to visit. Read the rest of this entry �

Every now and then at 7-Imp, I like to give the spotlight over to those who create illustrations for the wee’est of all wee readers. One such illustrator is visiting today, and her name is Amy Schimler. Her bright, colorful art work all about nature, geared for the big eyes of the youngest of children, is also fitting right now, given that Spring is upon us. Here in Tennessee, Spring graced us and then pulled back a bit, so at this point, I’m ready to dive into Amy’s world and live there a bit until Spring regains her senses and descends upon us again.

An illustrator and surface designer, Amy studied painting and fiber arts at the School of Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, as well as the Massachusetts College of Art, and continued her studies in textile and surface design at RISD. She currently lives in Georgia and is here this morning to show us some illustrations from her new title, as well as some other portfolio pieces. (The spread opening this post is a portfolio piece, and the one below it is from her newest title.) Read the rest of this entry �

Dear readers, my Kirkus column for this week is up over at their site this morning. Here’s the link. This time, I discuss Lois Lowry’s new children’s novel, Bless This Mouse, illustrated by Eric Rohmann. And I’ve got a question for readers, so head on over and join in the discussion, if you’re so inclined.

And, if you missed last week’s column, it’s here. That’s my review of Ann Stott’s and Matt Phelan’s new picture book, I’ll Be There, as well as a discussion of what I call, for lack of a better phrase, love-you-forever type picture books, all focused on the love between parent and child. Readers weighed in last week with lots of great comments and suggestions, and I’ll gladly take more suggestions, should folks have them. Here are some illustrations from the book, and in fact, they are ones specifically mentioned in the review:

Read the rest of this entry �

It’s been a bit since I’ve done a post on an illustrated novel, but to be doing the first one in a while on Julie Sternberg’s Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie (Amulet, March 2011), illustrated by Matthew Cordell, is good. And that’s because I asked them if they wanted to stop by and talk about the book, and hoo boy, they ran with it. Julie addressed specifically what it was like to see Matt’s illustrations for the book, and Matt gives us a detailed description of the stages in the life of his illustrations for this title.

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Quiet picture books. Contemplative. Books that capture a feeling, a moment in time, not picture books In Which Many Things Happen All At Once. They’re hard to do well. It’s challenging, I’m sure, to do gentle. But Tricia Tusa—who visited me for breakfast in 2008 and is back again this morning with some art work and sketches—not only does them well, she gives us a veritable case study in doing it well with her latest title, which she both wrote and illustrated, Follow Me, to be released next month by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Now, as a child I loved to swing. In fact, I still do. (Nearly-forty, schmearly-forty.) Clearly, Ms. Tusa loves to swing, too. Pictured left, she is launching her own adventure. On the cover of this beautiful picture book, pictured below, we see a young girl mounting a swing, hanging from a tree. On the dedication page, pictured at the bottom of this post, we get a hint as to her eventual release from the swing, as we see it flipped up into the air with her no longer on it. Ooh: Intriguing! Then, the story begins: “I wander through pink and get lost in blue.” She’s swinging, yes, but hang on. Stick with the book. Because it’s about much more than merely swinging.

The girl takes actual flight and gets lost. I’d love to tell you all of Tusa’s lyrical, evocative text here, as the young girl loses herself in the air, but you’ll have to go find a copy for yourself, by hook or by crook, next month, since: 1) I don’t want to give away the entire experience of the book and 2) doing so would also kinda sorta make me a copyright jerk. Suffice it to say she drifts through colors that she loves, she follows the breeze, allowing herself to get “caught in its folds,” and she reaches up and she reaches out and she reaches across. Lost in, not only the colors, but her own music, her own particular euphony (in more ways than one). Don’t expect any crazy plot points here: She simply takes a flight of fancy, the type of imaginative romp a child dreams of when swinging. Er, okay. Grown-ups, too. Come on. As Tricia shows us above, you’re never too old to swing, dear readers.

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Dear readers, my Kirkus column for this week is up over at their site this morning. This time, I briefly cover Picture Books In Which the Parent Expresses Undying Love and Adoration to the Child, what I call, for lack of a better phrase, the love-you-forever-type books. (See how I tried to make it sound like a whole genre of picture books by Doing This? I’m a tremendous goober.) Specifically, I address the new Candlewick title from Ann Stott and illustrated by Matt Phelan. Go have a look, if you’re so inclined. I’d love any and all interested folks to weigh in on your favorite love-you-forever-type picture books for children. Which ones make you feel slightly (or wholly) nauseous? Which ones do you think get it right?

And, if you missed last week’s column, it’s here. That’s my short Q&A with Marilyn Singer . . .

. . . in which she discusses her creative inspirations, her upcoming companion piece to Mirror Mirror, and her latest picture book, illustrated by Alexandra Boiger. Here are some spreads below, and you can head over to the column to see the cover and read more… Read the rest of this entry �

Well. Correction. Illustrator Sophie Blackall isn’t really going to weigh in this evening on her illustrations for Lisa Wheeler’s Spinster Goose: Twisted Rhymes for Naughty Children, a peek into the brat-bustin’ life of Mother Goose’s hard-nosed sister (Atheneum, March 2011), because she really came over to talk about her illustrations for Aldous Huxley’s The Crows of Pearblossom (Abrams, March 2011). I bet you she’s being modest about having two titles out at once and perhaps doesn’t want it to look like she’s taking over the blog today, but you see, I’m fine with her taking over the blog today. And so it is I who will throw in some spreads from Spinster Goose as well, since it makes me inordinately happy to see an illustrator such as Blackall at work on that book. That is to say I very much like her stylized, detailed, offbeat, sometimes irreverent, always emotionally resonant artwork. In fact, she was also the perfect choice for Crows, since Sophie’s not afraid to work some darkness into her work as well. As Publishers Weekly wrote, this is a picture book for kids who don’t mind a bit of that. (“Blackall…pictures a lovely gnarled tree as the prolific {Crow} family’s residence, yet her unnerving watercolors of the glassy-eyed crows reinforce the story’s sinister elements,” they wrote.) With a title like Spinster Goose, you can probably already see that both books embrace their inner darkness. Read the rest of this entry �