Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Jules: Is it really true that British cats drink tea? Well, this globe-trotting cat, brought to life by illustrator Kyrsten Brooker, knows. He’s the star of Caroline Lazo’s Someday When My Cat Can Talk (Scwartz & Wade Books, April 2008), the story of one little girl’s fantasy about her cat. Someday when he can talk, he’ll tell her lots of things, including the story of how he “hopped a ship and where he stowed away” in order to launch his European adventure, including a trip to England, France, Italy, Spain, Austria, Greece, and Holland. I love Kyrsten’s collage style (don’t forget to throw in some oil paints) and always enjoy her books (I reviewed Jacqueline Davies’ The Night is Singing back here in ’06). Kyrsten even opens the book with a map and itinerary of the cat’s adventures on the endpapers. These are illustrations which reward if you take the time to pore over them with your favorite wee one (and the book, I’m here to say, can also launch you into your closets for a search of your own globes and can lead to some informative geography discussions with children before you know what’s hit you). Read the rest of this entry �

Ever post about something and then want to add to it later? Or read someone else’s post and have an idea for them? Well, I’m taking care of that today with a short list of addenda. Just humor me.

Addendum 1. Remember when Adrienne and I posted about what we called Slightly Demented Picture Books, a post dear to our hearts that resulted in quite a handful of folks piping up to name their favorite demented books? Well, I keep running across books to add to the list (namely, why hadn’t I ever read Roald Dahl’s The Enormous Crocodile, which I stumbled upon recently? Sylviane Donnio’s I’d Really Like to Eat a Child seems almost an homage to Dahl’s book, published back in 1978. And I read ’em in the wrong order, but at least I finally found Dahl’s crocodile tale).

Anyway, there’s a new title out from Candlewick, Beware of the Frog by William Bee, set to be published next week, I believe. And it not only made me (and the children around me) laugh out loud, but it is also one of those titles that embodies the spirit of our definition of Slightly Demented. Hoo boy, talk about the food chain (as we did in our post):

Sweet little old Mrs. Collywobbles, looking like she came straight out of South Park and who lives right on the edge of a “big, dark, scary wood,” has a pet frog. And he’s the only thing that protects her from all the horrible and terrifying creatures that live in the big, dark, scary wood. Three of those horrifying creatures—Greedy Goblin, Smelly Troll, and Giant Hungry Ogre—believe they have the ability to one-up the frog. But they’re wrong, and the results of their attempts to do so are pretty funny. And then, just when you’re already hoo-ha’ing over this intrepid frog and Bee’s offbeat, wry depiction of his triumphs over the scary wood creatures, Bee brings, not one, but TWO bah-dum-ching moments at the book’s close, throwing the reader two punchline curve balls you don’t see coming. Calling it quirky doesn’t cut it. Everything about the book—the narrative and Bee’s left-of-center style, including all his close-ups and frog get-ups—is wonderfully wacked. It’s almost as if Bee is speaking directly to those parents all set on shielding their children from the Grimms-esque scary and mysterious elements of the world (the Giant Hungry Ogre sings, “I must have my supper—a juicy old lady cooked in lots of honey and butter”). Maybe not so much speaking to them as saying: Here, try this on for size. And did I mention I almost soiled myself laughing at it, as did my children? Read the rest of this entry �

You know those illustrators whose distinctive style of work you can recognize in approximately a femtosecond? Giselle Potter’s art work is like that. Her folk-art style, rich in color and full of whimsy (yes, “whimsy” gets overused in describing children’s books, but if anyone’s got whimsy—the good kind, not the saccharine-sweet kind—goin’ on, it’s Giselle, pictured here in her studio). Her style is not only instantly recognizable. It’s also playful and sometimes unpredictable and always a little delightfully offbeat. We at 7-Imp think she’s a true original, and we’re so pleased that she has stopped by for a cyber-breakfast to chat a bit with us. And what is her breakfast of choice? “A soft-boiled egg, toast, and coffee.” Coffee? Do we have coffee? Why, yes, we always do. Excellent. Let’s get right to it.

But, wait . . . If you’re new to Giselle’s work and want to know more about her titles-thus-far, don’t fret. She sent us a comprehensive list of her published titles, and I linked each one. Feel free to explore. If you’re not familiar with her books, we highly recommend them, and you’ll see that several of them have been reviewed here at 7-Imp. Her most recent illustrated title—Eugene Field’s Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, published by Schwartz & Wade this May—is a thing of beauty. Instead of trying to describe the deep, bold colors and Giselle’s beguiling interpretation of this old poem (Kirkus Reviews wrote, “{t}he hand-lettered text and mixed-media illustrations rendered in nighttime blues and greens lend an imaginative, dream-like quality to the ethereal text”), let me show you a few spreads from it. See for yourself:

Ah. Lovely, yes? I reviewed the book here in April if you’d like to read more about it. And, again, thanks to Giselle for stopping by. Without further ado . . . Let’s set the table for breakfast while asking Giselle about some of the basics: Read the rest of this entry �

I set out once again—like last week—to make this a Nonfiction Monday post, but this book also does not officially get lumped into the nonfiction category, though it’s based on an experience the author/illustrator had as a child.

Ah well. I’m going to tell you about it anyway, because it’s a beautiful thing.

How I Learned Geography by Uri Shulevtiz, released in April by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, has already—in its relatively short existence—garnered a whole heapin’ ton of critical acclaim: Read the rest of this entry �

It’s that time again, time to sit down with one impossibly talented illustrator before breakfast. Rather, over breakfast. Tricia Tusa’s here, joining 7-Imp for a cyber-feast. And what is Tricia’s breakfast of choice? “Two eggs over easy, three pieces of bacon, two pancakes, hot Red Mate tea with milk and honey, a handful of vitamins. If there is time, I will juice kale, parsley, carrots, cucumber, beets, apple and lemon together. I feel more secure starting my day with a large amount in my belly.” That, my friends, is a real breakfast. As long as I can add my coffee, I’m more than happy with that meal. And especially the company.

Tricia’s been wow’ing me lately with her illustrations, and in 7-Imp’s world, I’ve recently run my mouth about In a Blue Room, written by Jim Averbeck (Jim is interviewed here), published this year by Harcourt, and last year’s Fred Stays With Me!, written by Nancy Coffelt and published by Little, Brown Young Readers.

But here’s the thing. As you will see below, Tricia has illustrated about FIFTY books. (Note her response to the can-you-list-your-books-to-date question: She’s illustrated so many that even she’s not sure how many total she’s graced with her paintbrush.) And I can’t find a Tricia Tusa bibliography online anywhere. It PAINS me to not include a comprehensive list of her books to-date, but . . . well, you read the same thing I did: There are FIFTY, folks. Not to mention, I’m sure you, our devoted readers, know how to do title searches. So, I’ll leave that rewarding search up to you.

That said, I feel rather like a poseur gushing about her illustrations when I’ve seen exactly two of her books. Ahem. Shameful, I know. But, hey, a girl’s gotta start somewhere. I really like what I have seen, not to mention you can bet I’m off to do a library search for her previous titles. I predict that one day really soon I’ll be walking in the door with a hugely huge stack of Tusa-illustrated titles to explore. That’s my plan anyway.

While we’re setting the table for our breakfast chat, let’s get the basics from Tricia. But first I want to thank her for stopping by. And how much do I love that she shares her quirky brainstorming techniques (see her various ways of cocooning below)? A whole, whole lot. What a fun interview this was, and many thanks to her. Read the rest of this entry �

I wanted to force this post into the Nonfiction Monday category, but it won’t quite fit. This is Nikki Giovanni’s and Chris Raschka’s brand-new adaptation of Aesop’s “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” and—to be sure—those fables of Aesop are lumped into the 398.2s. But, not only does this not qualify, I think, for the “facts first” mission of Nonfiction Monday, but Giovanni has also really elaborated on this tale, adding a new cast of characters (literally — the book opens with a spread which depicts our “cast”) and turning it into an argument for the respect for and compensation of an artist for his/her work. I speak of The Grasshopper’s Song: An Aesop’s Fable Revisited, illustrated by Raschka, and published in May by Candlewick.

“Jimmy Grasshopper was furious,” the book opens. He’s complaining to Henry Sr., a bird who eventually becomes the counsel to Jimmy-as-plaintiff with his partners (Robin, Robin, Robin, and Wren). Jimmy says he sang songs and played music all summer for the industrious ants while they harvested their food — yet the ants are shutting him out from any of the rewards. “Even in the evening, when we were all tired, I played a melody to keep up our spirits. I never thought they would turn their backs on me. It’s just not right.”

But things aren’t so black and white, as it turns out. Henry Sr. is reluctant to take the case: “You provided a service they didn’t request.” Read the rest of this entry �

Jules: Welcome once again to our weekly 7-Kicks list, the meeting ground for listing Seven(ish) Exceptionally Fabulous, Beautiful, Interesting, Hilarious, or Otherwise Positive Noteworthy Things from the past week — whether book-related or not — that happened to you.

This week we’re featuring illustrator Philip Huber, who is a professor of art at Lock Haven University, a Fulbright scholar, received his Master’s degree in illustration and a Master of Fine Arts degree in visual communications at Syracuse University, and who illustrated this year’s A Crossing of Zebras: Animal Packs in Poetry by Marjorie Maddox (also a professor at Lock Haven; Marjorie teaches English and is the director of the Creative Writing program there).

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Come. Take a trip in my airship…around the world a bit for a look at some picture books from across the pond. Let’s get right to it . . .

Move over, Pigeon.

Here’s an interactive picture book from Chinese illustrating duo Zhaohua Ji and Cui Xu. Collectively, they’ve apparently won awards for their illustration, cartoons, and fiction in China as well as in Japan and Europe, yet this is their first picture book. And in it they ask such philosophical questions as: When is a hat not a hat? And when are underpants not underpants?

In the opening spread, we see a pair of red underpants (red? Ooh la la. No ordinary skivvies for those people) fly off a clothesline, landing in the next spread on a rabbit’s head. What’s this? he wonders. It’s a hat!

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Welcome to the fifth and final day of the Summer Blog Blast Tour. We hope you’ve enjoyed all the interviews as much as we have.

For our final SBBT interview, we’re thrilled to be talking with the hardest-working man in picture books: author/illustrator Javaka Steptoe. The talented Mr. Steptoe sprang onto the picture book scene in 1997 as the illustrator of the poetry anthology In Daddy’s Arms I Am Tall: African Americans Celebrating Fathers (Lee & Low). His mixed-media collages — created from “paper with pastel; applique; and a multitude of found objects, including fabric, coins, seashells, buttons, sand, seeds, and leaves” (School Library Journal) won him instant acclaim – and the Coretta Scott King Illustrator Award for 1998. As SLJ went on to say: “The artwork vibrates with emotion; even the simplest pieces, showing torn-paper figures on a solid background, capture the powerful bond between parent and child.”

Next up was the daunting task of re-illustrating a classic: Charlotte Zolotow’s sweet ode to siblinghood Do You Know What I’ll Do? (HarperCollins, 2000), originally illustrated by Garth Williams. The updated classic won Steptoe further accolades: Publisher’s Weekly raved “…His stunning illustrations… create layered, almost three-dimensional portraits of the striking African-American siblings. Their love for each other is tangible, yet he injects the same playfulness and humor inherent in the text.”

Steptoe followed this up by collaborating with Nikki Grimes on the poetry collection A Pocketful of Poems (Clarion, 2001). School Library Journal praised the “playful and thoroughly successful pairing of words and pictures,” stating that his illustrations “give the book an urban, upbeat, and contemporary look.”

For his next project, Steptoe made the leap from illustrator to author/illustrator, in his original picture book The Jones Family Express (Lee & Low, 2003). The story of Steven, a boy who creates the perfect gift for his world-traveling aunt using a discarded model train and a lot of imagination, is the perfect vehicle for Steptoe’s collage art. Says SLJ: “Young readers will identify with Steven’s struggle to choose a perfect present and his excitement over Aunt Carolyn’s invitation for him to join her travels — but it is the illustrations that will cause them to linger over this book and delight in the colorful details.”

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{Note: The rest of today’s Summer Blog Blast Tour interview schedule is posted at the bottom of this interview.}

See Flyaway Katie on the book cover below, brought to life by illustrator Polly Dunbar? I’m about as excited as she looks, because Polly, pictured here, has stopped by 7-Imp today to chat with us. Polly—who lives and works in Brighton, England, and happens to have one of the most entertaining web sites of children’s lit— has a style all her own. Her books, both ones she’s illustrated and author/illustrated, are testaments to the power of a child’s imagination, and her energetic mixed-media illustrations, whose palettes are saturated with the loveliest of all colors, manage to be both spirited and cheerful and convey great depth all at the same time. And, in what seems to be a running theme this week, Polly has also talked in previous interviews about the freedom she feels in writing and illustrating for child readers:

I think the younger [readers] are, the more freedom you have with being experimental. Very young kids will accept anything. Their eyes are still so wide open. That’s why picture books for me are the most exciting area to work in.

I’ll show my work to a grown up, who will just sort of flick through it and say, “I like that colour.” A child will be absorbed in a different way, and that’s lovely and really rewarding.

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