When you’re super swamped and have your own writing deadlines and a whole host of other stuff to do, yet you see a picture book like Jim Averbeck’s Except If, released by Atheneum in January of this year, and you really super bad want to feature the book, what do you do? Well, you could email the author/illustrator and tell him exactly how super swamped you are but that you’d love for him to send an in-his-own-words type of feature about the book, along with some art, if he’s so inclined to oblige. So, that’s what I did in this instance. And when you give someone like Mr. Averbeck the freedom to just run with it? Well, you’re in for some fun.
You see, Jim has this very close friend. Her name is Jessica, and she’ll introduce herself in just a moment. Since I was so swamped when this book was first released (yes, this was over three months ago—and I’ve also been sitting on this post about a month now—so I’m happy to finally be bringing it to readers), Jim invited Jessica over to interview him in my stead. I was happy to turn the breakfast table over to her. As you can see below, she has a very festive scarf, for one, which I may beg to borrow. Also her full name is just a KICK to say.
If you haven’t seen Except If yet, know that it’s been described as no less than a “short, sweet, philosophical speculation” (Publishers Weekly), an “existential” and “deceptively simple yet delightful tale” (Kirkus), and “contrarian” fun (Booklist). The book starts with an egg, which is not what you think. It’s not a baby bird, you see, “but it will become one except if it becomes a baby snake.” Readers’ expectations continue to be overturned with successive page turns—and the repeated use of “except if”—in this puzzler of a book, less of a story than a “convergence of fanciful possibilities,” as School Library Journal wrote. Just when readers think the story is going one way, Averbeck provides a narrative detour. Adds the PW review, “{e}ven very young readers will find they’ve succeeded in following a rather convoluted piece of reasoning, clause by clause and picture by picture; it’s a book in which the action unfolds in the mind as much as it does on the page.” I don’t want to give it all away either and spoil your experience reading it, if you haven’t already, but let’s just say it ends as it started — with a pale blue egg and maybe, just maybe, a baby bird.
Okay. Back to work. Jessica’s here to take over—she’s already brewed the coffee—and I thank her. And Jim. For running with it. No except-ifs about that one. Read the rest of this entry �