THE SWEATER: A Story of Community

Some of the books i feature here are astonishing in their depth or scope, in the magnificence (I'm not exaggerating) of their text or illustrations. Many titles in many ways reveal less that is "new" but much that is conveyed in moving and original ways. 

VIKING PRESS, 2026

Then there are some picture books that simply strike chords of familiar, important, heart-touching elements in ways that deserve attention. Books that will become huggable favorites. Books that will be saved to read again and again, and then on into adulthood to a next generation. The SWEATER: A Story of Community strikes me as that kind of book. Written by Larissa Theule and illustrated by Teagan White, there is actually very little that seems extraordinary in this reader-friendly book. 

The author's narrative is direct and simple, but carries the weight of understanding:

"... a little bird stumbled into the thicket. It was plain to see he'd been though some things."

The storytelling allows readers to sense concern, potentially even risk, without feeling undo threat to worry. The little bird's discovery of a vacant hole in a tree could easily be the wrap to his part of the story. But empathy and awareness of the coming winter and the challenges to even healthy lives in the face of Mother Nature  leads the central character, Holly the raccoon, to express concern for the little bird to the others in the woods. Yes, you can guess that decisions are made, domino effects unfold, scraps of offerings are knit into whole resources. That, my friends, is a metaphor for community. The glory of this simple account is in both its familiarity and in the freshness of word and images. 

Click on illustrator White (above) to see that more sophisticated version of any of these illustrations were well within her talents. But from the simple line drawings on end papers to the colorful, warm-toned interiors, each character appears both anthropomorphized and also natural. The challenges faced are concerning without being terrifying, helping readers invest in the safety of all, not just the small bird. Even when it is "hunkering down"  time in the midst of a storm, the text and images offer reassurance of safety while suggesting connection, even while isolated for a time. Some aspect of those spreads reminded me of our lives during covid lock-down. No  matter how separate we were, there was a nearly universal striving to find ways to express our connections to others.

This book will appeal to most (I'd like to say ALL, but not everyone might find it as utterly memorable and treasured as I do). But I hope you'll give it a look to see for yourselves. There is sincerity and charm without being cloying or cutesy. The two-dimensional, stylized critters reside in a detailed space that is also somewhat flat, yet remains natural and somewhat magical. It's that "story time" tone that made me lift the relationships and characters from their specifics to think of them as any and all communities 

I am a fan of any picture book that is able to take what we all know to be an important (and therefore familiar) concept and make it fresh and memorable. I praised the efforts of Marsha Diane Arnold's ONE SMALL THING, HERE. If you missed it originally, I invite you to click and read about it as well. These two "animal character" stories display combined support, representing the power for even small efforts to unite and strengthen every member of the community. They would make remarkable side-by side readings. Those are reflections and discussions I'd welcome as often as possible, especially among young audiences.

Come Visit With Me: THE LIBRARY IN THE WOODS

Coming up, April 6, is National Library Day. April is also National School Library Month. As with any and all other focus days or months, these call attention to what we agree is important, but risk the suggestion that the topic isn't noteworthy during the rest of the year. I'm happy to say that I (and so many others I know) find libraries to be a necessary and integral part of our lives, year after year. In fact, since retiring, I've used public libraries even more so than while working full time in schools (and I used libraries often then!).  

CAROLRHODA BOOKS, 2025

In the case of a new picture book offering, the availability of a public library was life changing. My limited access to libraries as a child were mentioned in a recent post, HERE, but my restrictions were matters of location, transportation, and the generally low quality of children's/youth offerings at that time. In THE LIBRARY IN THE WOODS, written by Calvin Alexander Ramsey and illustrated by R. Gregory Christie, the characters are residents of Roxboro, North Carolina in the era of Jim Crow. 

The author's lived experiences inspired this narrative that traces a family, one that must finally abandon their efforts to live independently on a farm due to natural forces beyond my control. That early, heartbreaking opening moves them to town, where the young boy narrator learns about a library, one that does not deny him entry and treats him with the respect he (and all people) deserve. Despite his awareness that he'd be refused entry to the town library, this one was operated and under complete control of the Black community. Access to so manny books was a dream come true.

That rarity, in his time and place, make a compelling and powerful story in itself. But the greater layers and further details of this story involve the family from which the narrative emerged. His choice of his three book allowance for each checkout included one for his father, one for his mother, and one for himself. Providing his father with a book (on George Washington Carver) leads to revelations for the boy, to learning ways that literacy can be shared, and to readers' empathy for the deep love and care shown from cover to cover. 

Both author and illustrator are multiple award-winning creators of works for young readers, and this merits similar attention and praise. The art is both familiar and informational about the historic period and location. The text moves smoothly, as if the boy is retelling the events to a neighbor or parent. The author note (and archival newspaper clipping form the actual Roxboro Library) indicate ays in which the story is literally taken from his life and ways in which it was changed for the sake of focus and pacing. 

Both the author's actual life history and this account of it are moving and powerful. This is a picture book that would work well in a social studies class related to the era in American history, or to literacy in America, or to economics in that place and time. I hope you'll consider your own relationships to libraries while in your young lives and across a lifetime. As Ramsey says in those closing notes, to have grown up with actual library access,  even if not "equal"  to the libraries from which he was excluded, was a privilege and joy beyond the reach of so many others of color in the South.The countless ways in which library access has improved my life are blessings beyond measure. 

Celebrate your own libraries in some meaningful way on April 6 or the next time you visit. A sincere "thank you", with a line or two about the differences libraries have made to you, will be welcome, I guarantee. 

I also  recommend , for adults who wish to be informed about the current assault on linaraies and access to books, a memoir/account of the status of that battle: That Librarian: The Fight Against Book Banning in America by Amanda Jones.

Ready for SOMETHING SPECTACULAR?

 When it comes to picture books about ROCKS, there are many to choose from. Several of those are high on my list of recommendations. I've reviewed several, from classics to newer releases, like THIS, THIS, and THIS. It's not difficult to encounter a kid (or grown kid) who is a fan of rocks. Some scout out specialty rocks (geodes, river rocks, mica rocks, and more). SOMETHING SPECTACULAR: A Rocks's Journey, written by Carmela LaVigna Coyle and illustrated by Carly Allen-Fletcher, provides an origin story for one example of a specialty kind of "found" rock: nature-formed heart-shaped rocks. This vibrant and dramatic account of the transformation of matter spans millions of years and reveals a seemingly dry nonfiction topic through colorful, action-packed, time-travel, a revelation for readers of any age. 

MUDDY BOOTS BOOKS, 2022

The research behind this rock-journey is evident, but is served up in a user-friendly, minimalist style through illustrations, text, and book design. Beginning with the cover, our eye  centers on a non-specific young person, someone fully enthralled with the magic in their open hands. The encircling images appear nearly surreal, of an uncertain period and location. It's the perfect launchpad for an astonishing, ethereal journey.

And yet, open the cover to the endpapers which reveal childlike, crayon-drawn figures. Whose story is this, the rock's or the child's? Then one more turn to the title page features a space-view image of planet Earth more than 300 million years ago, when the planet was a watery home to a single land mass, Pangea, which was evidently geologically active (volcanoes and landmass shifts) as well as spawning plant life.

We're not yet  entering the the narrative as one more page turns, providing publication information and a dedication. Those are wallpapered, corner to corner, with textured swatches and swirls of fiery color and movement. Illustrator Allen-Fletcher has notable works that range from adult to space science to science fiction and fantasy for youth. In the dramatic contrasts within these pages she demonsttrates her range and intentionality. The approach not only sets the stage for a 300,000 million year old geologic transition, but allows each successive stage to also shift across millennia, certain that those floating those end paper, childlike images will anchor to such a nearly timeless tale. The transitions are highly effective, and young readers (even those who can't yet comprehend such large numbers or spans of time) will hold both the story of an imagined child and a chunk of planet Earth that survives throughout time to become a discovery in a field.  It is absolutely brilliant, in my opinion.

That, though, was inspired by what I consider a brilliant narrative to set those parallel journeys in place. A sample of the opening establishes a repetitive pattern for pages:

 (Small heart icon) "272 years before she found it... (small font, color, at top left of page)

(Main text) It began beneath the bottom of a forgotten sea, as part of something spectacular."

Each turn launches a wide spread with an introductory phrase shifting time in millions then thousands of years, referencing time markers and events in the child's day, such as "before she at breakfast"  in relation to those incomparably enormous shifts in geologic time. The illustrations reveal how the planet's forces were impacting the matter that gradually becomes a rock, then is ruptured, rolled, washed, and buried by the forces of nature over time. The time references are both informative and helpful in comparing other long-passage periods that are sometimes confused or merged, such as dinosaurs and buffaloes roaming the earth. The concluding discovery of a heart-shaped rock in a field flips the cover perspective from the viewer's eyes to that of the child, capturing the wonder of it all, now illuminated by awareness of its theoretical journey. 

A special treat is the realization on the closing endpapers. The childlike drawings are discoverable as a map of her own day's travel, providing images to connect to each time-marker throughout her search day (breakfast through to discovery). Whether launching readers onto lifelong heart-rock searches or introducing geologic eras for an adolescent science lesson,  or even as mentor text for generating comparative timelines, this book truly is SPECTACULAR!

MEET Edward Lear, Childhood's Hero: THE BOY WHO BECAME A PARROT

I recently browsed the shelves in an artist-coop, recognizing with a smile some rescued, REALLY OLD books on one shelf. Books with musty, frayed, cloth coverings that barely contained their cracked bindings. They were both fragile and enduring. Most were books for young people, many from various series you'd recognize. Their condition reminded me of one that I  checked out of the library more than a dozen times. 

As a young reader, my libraries were nothing like ones seen today. The children's section was barely more than a wall or two of spine-out, unjacketed titles, books that circulated on and off shelves for lack of alternatives. Options in my childhood were limited and the same was true in my classroom. (Until high school, I knew no such thing as a school library.) 

ENCHANTED LION BOOKS
2025

I read voraciously among the limited library offerings, expanding my targets beyond books and magazines and newspapers at home. Among the few titles on a single shelf of children's poetry (mostly nursery rhymes, anthologies of classics, or Robert Louis Stevenson) I read the title: Edward Lear's A  BOOK OF NONSENSE. This was in the 1950s, more than  a hundred years after Lear first published this collection of limericks and slightly bizarre line drawings. 

(The original version was published under a pen name in 1846, since LEAR was already a highly respected nature artist at that time.)

One of many further reissues of Lear's public domain works incorporate original drawings and his best known poems, while others are labeled as fully comprehensive collections of his original works and further poems published after his wide success with the first release. 

Let me just say that I've never outgrown my love for LEAR and his kid-friendly capturing of the sounds and images kids adore.I featured that feeling in a post some years back, HERE, and I often compare new creations to this early standard when elements of word-play, humor, silliness, and imagery, accessing vivid and  deeply-rooted memories.

It won't surprise you that I was intrigued and excited to read a 2025 release, a comprehensive picture book biography of Edward Lear that promised insights far beyond that memorable book. THE BOY WHO BECAME A PARROT: A FOOLISH BIOGRAPHY OF EDWARD LEAR WHO INVENTED NONSENSE is written by Wolverton Hill and illustrated by Laura Carlin. In this oversized and expanded length presentation, the illustrator has channeled Lear's style as well as incorporating selected original art by Lear throughout (all credited/cited in back matter). The text is approachable and reveal Lear's childhood within his time and conditions, which led to surprising opportunities to read, observe nature, and learn to draw and paint. The account of his early life includes his epilepsy (with no treatment at the time), a condition he called his Demon, reappearing throughout his life. 

His word play, scribbly-giggly line drawings, storytelling, and poetry writing that marked his entire life emerged early to entertain other children. That liveliness and lightness of spirit never faded. Many have credited him with advancing Lewis Carroll's fanciful nonsense into broader literature. While still a child he honed his artistic skills in reproducing wildlife, with talents that earned comparison to Audubon.

This thorough account reveals a complex boy who drew at the then-private London Zoo, reporting conversations he had with the blue and yellow macaw he portrayed. He developed sympathy for the caged creatures, not unlike his own experience with losing his home and fleeing his Demon. In his imagination, the macaw flew free. Lear drew himself doing the same. He soon learned that his early success among wealthy and formal society left him uncomfortable, but time spent with children was freeing and filled with silliness. These approaches later led to effective social satire within his work.

In a world that now embraces silliness (bordering on the absurd, in some cases), a world in which limericks are recognized (even in other languages), Edward Lear could rightly claim to be the rock upon which lively children's literature was founded. 

Both the author and illustrator have rendered Lear's long-gone life with loving care and lively respect for his brilliance. Back matter provides a detailed timeline of his long life and the surprising landmarks that are referenced in lyrical text throughout the telling of his tail. Lear's influence on many notable authors and artists who followed is shared, and the names are impressive. Even so, the greatest credit to this remarkable man is his impact on nameless young readers, across centuries. His legacy is wider than I realized, expanding across many horizons. Even so, his lasting impact is on young people who found him, in his own time and in all the decades that followed.

And still do. 

I hope you'll read this and learn more about his journey to that legacy.