Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Ben Hatke, that is. He juggles, breathes fire, plays the Irish whistle, and attends to a growing family, as well as twelve chickens. He even homeschools them. The children. Not so much the chickens.

That’s according to his bio. But I’m glad he doesn’t stop there and that he’s turned his attention toward children’s lit. As a Virginia-based writer, artist, and graphic novelist (who studied for some time in Florence, Italy, which he addresses below), Ben has brought readers a new bad-ass female protagonist of children’s lit (even if she’s the only xx chromosome on the planet), and her name is Zita. Well, she’s but a wee girl, so somehow “bad-ass” is a bit much. Do-over: She’s super cool, quite clever, and very brave. And she’s the hero of Ben’s Zita the Spacegirl, a graphic novel for young children, published by First Second this past February. Read the rest of this entry �

I’m keeping things very simple this week. I’ve got one image and one kick. The one image you see above comes from illustrator Amy June Bates. I’ve always enjoyed her work, as I made clear in this 2008 interview, another one of my favorite interviews, since she sent tons of art. Incidentally, she currently lives with her family in Japan, and I’m very relieved to hear they are safe after the earthquake, as well as Tarie in the Philippines. My heart goes out to those amidst the destruction in Japan.

At Amy’s blog, Drawing a Blank, she shares sketches and recent creations, and this one made me laugh outloud. I believe the first day of Spring is next Sunday, so this image is fitting today. I’m eager for Spring to make a premature arrival, how ’bout you? That cute fluffy bunny agrees. You can read the small print, right? So funny. Read the rest of this entry �

I’ve said somewhere before—perhaps it was here at 7-Imp, though my online stompin’ grounds run together sometimes, meaning it might have been that crazy, whacked out, hyper-hypo cyber-world called Facebook—that, if The Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art doesn’t put a halt to all their great exhibitions, I’m going to pack up my pillows and just move up there. It’d be that museum alone that would have me suffering the colder climes of the Northeast over the gentler winters of Tennessee. I’ll sweep their floors, hand out pamphlets, or stand out front with a sign board, dressed as a giant caterpillar. And I’ll even flip the board up into the air and catch it all cool, like sign board folks do. Just whatever the Museum would like. Because if you’re a giant picture book nerd, as I clearly am, it looks like it’s The Place To Be.

Case-in-point: One of their current exhibitions is of the work of Swiss-born artist Etienne Delessert. (Etienne currently makes his home in Connecticut.) Until June of this year in their East Gallery, one can take in a retrospective of his career as an illustrator in many settings, a career that has brought us, as the museum notes, more than eighty books collectively translated into fourteen languages. I’ve been trying this week, in thinking about this post, to pull up the words to adequately describe Delessert’s picture book art. Dream-like and surreal are what come to mind, yet those descriptors hardly seem adequate. In reviewing The Seven Dwarfs (2000), Publishers Weekly once described Delessert’s paintings as “{g}rotesque and delicate” with “{f}anciful, cinematic moments.” Hmmm…that’s getting closer. Bottom line, for me, is that there’s a mystery to his work that is often impenetrable, but this isn’t bad. It leaves me poring over his work, pondering, reflecting. Musing on. Read the rest of this entry �

March is Women’s History Month, an event I can really get behind and to which I give seven enthusiastic cheers. But not a cheerlead’y type of cheer, seeing as how I went to the library during pep rallies in high school. Oh yes, I did. NERD. I just didn’t understand spirit fingers and what those cheerleaders were actually pointing at — and pep rallies were all just a bit too…well, peppy for my tastes. I say it again: Nerd.

If blogging were, say, my full-time job, bless my soul, I’d have a fun time bringing you more books that can be used to celebrate such a wonderful event as Women’s History Month, but since it’s not, I humbly bring you two books today. These are two picture book biographies, for all intents and purposes, though I think one is technically considered fiction. At the very top of this post is an illustration from Chris Van Allsburg’s very first nonfiction title, Queen of the Falls (Houghton Mifflin, April 2011), and below that is an illustration from Patrick McDonnell’s Me…Jane (Little, Brown, April 2011). Let me say now, for the record…. Well, I like both books, but the latter, McDonnell’s title on Dr. Jane Goodall, is one of the best books you’ll see all year. I say that with confidence, even though it’s only March and there are so many more picture books, lucky for us, heading our way in 2011. We’ll get to Me…Jane in just a bit, but first off is Van Allsburg’s picture book biography of Annie Edson Taylor. Read the rest of this entry �

It’s the first Sunday in March! Oh! No! I keep using exclamation marks! Because I am coming up on a big ‘ol final, serious writing deadline! And I still have writing to do! A chapter that gives me the stink eye somethin’ FIERCE! I am in denial about March! I am in denial about March!

Have mercy, sorry about all those exclamation marks. Not funny anymore, right? And quite possibly not funny to begin with. Excessive exclaiming can give one a headache.

The good thing about it being the first Sunday in March is that a new-to-the-field, recently-graduated illustrator is here to share some artwork, since that’s how I roll here at 7-Imp on the first Sunday of each month. Yes, join me in shining the spotlight on an illustrator from the future. Er, wait. She’s illustrating now, but you get my drift. This month it’s an illustrator based in Melbourne, Australia. Meet Jess Racklyeft. I failed to ask her how her last name is pronounced, and I’m ever-so curious, the more I look at—and type—that surname. Perhaps she can stop by later and tell us. Without further ado, here is Jess to tell us a bit more about her work and her plans: Read the rest of this entry �

Who’s back? you may be wondering. You remember the unforgettable critters (I’m originally from Kentucky; I must say “critters”) from Deborah Underwood’s The Quiet Book, illustrated by Renata Liwska? You know. The picture book folks read and fell in love with last year (what? I’ve yet to meet a soul who didn’t fall directly in love with that book) and then closed their eyes, stuck their fingers in their ears, and said lalalalala I’m not listening when you say the illustrator is Canadian and not eligible for the Caldecott, because it was THAT GOOD. It did, however, get the 2010 Gold Medal from the Society of Illustrators in the category of Original Art: The Fine Art of Children’s Book Illustration.

I think it’s remarkable how quickly The Loud Book (Houghton Mifflin), this companion book of sorts, came into existence. The Quiet Book was published in April of last year, and this one will be released next month. Perhaps they were both planned to begin with. Perhaps the publisher noted the great and abiding love for The Quiet Book and quickly got to work on its sequel. I don’t know. But no matter. It’s here, and it possesses, not surprisingly, many of the same winning qualities as its predecessor: the smart, subtle humor; the gentle, detailed pencil illustrations (colored digitally); the unexpected connections (“crackling campfire loud”); the direct, very child-centered line to the emotional worlds of its wee readers; and lots of room to think, which the author and illustrator leave readers/listeners in spades. (As Kirkus wrote about The Quiet Book, “{t}he most moving scenes leave space for imagining.”) Read the rest of this entry �

Ah. I have This Thing for sun images, and so I’m really kinda crazy about Rafael López’s sun here. (Note: Visiting that link there to his site will just improve the quality of your day and make your eyes and brain happy. I highly suggest going there to take in his art.)

Also, that post title is supposed to be “The Book This Blogger Enjoys,” but seven bajillion apologies to all Spanish-speakers of the world if I just mangled that. I am not one. A Spanish-speaker, that is.

Where was I? Oh. Right. That sun, as well as this goat to the right, comes from one of my favorite early-2011 picture books, written by Samantha R. Vamos and illustrated by Mr. López, The Cazuela That the Farm Maiden Stirred (Charlesbridge, February 2011). Think of this as the bilingual “The House That Jack Built.” But, okay. Well, there is no malt or rat or shaven and shorn priest or farmer sowing his corn. Instead, we have a farm maiden, who is quite the opposite of forlorn, as she’s happy to be baking. Mmm. Baking. There’s a goat churning cream, a duck heading to the market, a donkey plucking a lime, a farmer planting rice, and much more. They’re getting ready for a rice pudding celebration — the yummy treat, that is, along with some dancing and singing and banjo-playing and maraca-shaking. Read the rest of this entry �

This post is probably the closest you’ll ever see to me talking about Cute Fluffy Bunnies in children’s book illustration, but quite clearly I’m ready for spring. All featured books today include bunnies of the fluffy and, quite possibly, cute variety (depending on your definition of “cute,” I guess). And I like all these bunnies, oh yes I do.

I’ve previously featured at 7-Imp the work of Korean illustrator Il Sung Na—at this 2009 post, to be exact—who now lives and works in London. The second spread above is his. I’ve got more spreads this morning from his new book. He just ups the ante on beauty with each book, huh? But more on him in a second. First up is Big Bunny (from which that top illustration comes), written by mother-daughter duo Betseygail Rand (daughter) and Colleen Rand (mother) — and illustrated by Colleen, who goes by “C.S.W. Rand” in the illustration credit. Read the rest of this entry �

{Clearly, I need some intervention sometimes when it comes to post titles.}

I don’t tend to cover news here at 7-Imp. If I had more time to blog, I think I’d have fun rounding stuff up, but for now I leave that to the experts. You want the latest in children’s lit happenings from every perspective? Betsy pretty much rocks it with her Fusenews. I also like to hit 100 Scope Notes for some buzz. Or Read Roger for the no-nonsense buzz. Jen Robinson and Scrub-a-Dub-Tub and Rasco From RIF are absolutely who you want to go hang with for literacy-related round-ups. And there are many, many more, but you get my point. I don’t do it. I go to them and others for the low-down.

This morning, however, I wanted to share a few picture-book or illustration-related links that have come to my attention lately. I can’t help but feel the need to gab about them: Read the rest of this entry �

Jules: It’s time to welcome again the very smart Italian blogger with kickin’-good taste, Cristiana Clerici (pictured here), for another spotlight on international illustration. Today, she’s interviewing Spanish illustrator Javier Zabala, who talks about his work, his teaching, how his mother’s impromptu drawing competition when he was a child led to his career as an illustrator, what having courage means when working in the field, what it means to work “open-heartedly,” and much, much more. As always, I love that Cris stops by here to show me and 7-Imp readers what is happening in contemporary picture books over in Europe. To get the low-down on what I’m calling Cristiana Clerici’s International Spotlights, visit this page of the site. I thank her kindly for contributing today. I shall kick back with my coffee and take in their conversation. (And I would like to know if Javier’s ever been told he looks like Nathan Fillion, but see why it’s better for Cris to be in charge of these interviews?)

Without further ado, here is Cris. Enjoy.

Cris: Complete with mischievous glances and easy-going conversations, often enriched by the expression “hombre,” Javier Zabala embodies all the Spanish pleasantness and the professionalism that only a great artist has when it’s time to open up to others — with humility and generosity.

I met Javier in Macerata, during one of the courses he does with Ars In Fabula — Fabbrica delle Favole, where I was allowed to observe him at work with his students. What mostly struck me about him is the mixture of empathy and severity he keeps during his classes, as much as in his private life he wisely mixes sensitivity and humor, shyness and gushiness.

These qualities shine through in his artwork as well, with all its little curious references, its wisely-balanced colours, its characters sketched in his peculiar style, and those atmospheres so frankly masculine that filter through his tables. Read the rest of this entry �