SMALL THINGS MENDED: A Tender Mentor Picture Book

 I'm not religiously committed to the idea of reincarnation, and yet I've often said I believe I was a bird in a prior life. I'd welcome a next life as a meerkat (despite facing countless predators and a diet heavy on scorpions). Everything I've leaned about meerkats (I was an early-adopter of meerkat fandom) indicates that they support each other in strong community and celebrate life daily. If my "next life" merited a human incarnation, I'd hope to be a visual artist, specifically a picture book illustrator. Books like the one featured below would be my goal.

In this life, using my current bucket of talents, I rely on writing for storytelling. I spend endless hours (years) learning about and trying to master narrative skills for picture book text. Any progress I've made over the years merits boundless thanks to resources such as SCBWI.org, The Writing Barn, and my very talented critique partners. The are no magic words or shortcuts to being able to produce text that inspires complementary and enriching visual storytelling from illustrators. There is, however, a "sweet spot" some authors find, honing their text down to perfect "show, don't tell" narratives that reveal not only story but also character, heart, and voice. It's really hard to define that sweet spot, but you know it when you see/read it. That's why picture books that achieve this deserve the designation of mentor texts.

Rocky Pond Books, 2023

My recent notes about WILLOW AND BUNNY involve such a brilliant pairing of talents. Two other talented creators, author Casey W. Robinson and illustrator Nancy Whitesides, produced  SMALL THINGS MENDED, a thoroughly realistic picture book with these magical results. Page after page, including endpapers, are awash with soft-edged, revealing scenes, objects, and subtlety that attract and merit our full attention. Text/craft elements (onomatopoeia and effective word choices, among others) are used naturally and with restraint to  inspire informative illustration details. Elements like a table set for one, shelves of toys and other child-friendly objects, small tools, images in photos that reveal Cecil was once lovingly partnered but is now on his own. 

A tiny phrase ("with his good eye") sets up the parallel issues of Cecil and his young friends. Many small things need mending, some more visible than others. Some are much more challenging to mend than others. 

Illustrations rise to the invitation of this skilled text to expand the emotional journeys of these characters. Whether human, animals, or even toys, it's the eyes that catch attention first. Whitesides skillfully used a style and technique that astounds me- relying on tiny dot or line eyes to convey even more depth of emotion than those sometimes-seen "puppy dog" eyes of comics. The angles and  placement of simple dots or lines, enhanced by faces and body language (of Cecil, his devoted pooch, and each child who needs help) evoke empathy. As with this seemingly-simple art technique, the text exemplifies delicate but potent minimalism, of phrase and of craft, especially repetition. Nothing is overdone, sometimes not even noticeable until a second or third reading. When Cecil restores Lily's pocket watch to its comforting tick-tick-tick operation, he responds to her thanks with a "twice-tap" to his heart. What a brilliant expression, and one that is all the more effective for its limited use in key moments.

That "tick-tick-tick" moment is when readers get a narrative insight to Cecil's backstory- "He had forgotten how much he liked fixing things." Those are the only words about his history, but a scene shift reveals more photos of his beloved and of the routines of his life. As word gets out that Cecil can help with small things in need of mending, he brings the melody back to a music box and more, hanging a small "shingle" on his fence declaring his willingness to mend small things. This connection marks his first steps to feeling like himself again, and to being part of his community. The smiles he seeks and provides are reflected on his face. 

Until... a girl brings her well-loved stuffed elephant (Daisy) to have its broken heart repaired. In this case, Cecil can't promise such success, but does his best. Readers are allowed the space, in text and in images, to imagine for themselves how and why Daisy's heart is wounded. Cecil's implied sense of isolation and grief are unstated layers to this problem, providing a clever scaffold for imagining the heartache of Daisy and the girl.

My opening notes in this post reflect on the importance of telling the essentials, the ESSENCE of a story with "just right" words and pacing, not overwhelming the heart of the story with unnecessary plot or prose. In this case, Robinson might have sought a way to resolve the "mending" of the stuffed elephant and concluded the story sooner. Here's the magic in this writing. Cecil's and elephant's restorations require more than simple fixes. The crux of knowing when to add and extend a story rather than simplify, in this case, comes down to allowing time, investing work, and pursuing what makes them feel whole. Once Cecil repairs his vegetable garden, a new sign appears on his fence. The community comes together with both Cecil and Daisy having healed their hearts. 

I longed to include some interior illustration images, all the way to the final endpapers, but the story summary will have to do. Each spread offers further insight to the story and I won't spoil your own discovery of those. Let me urge you, though, to get a copy and explore it closely. When you open the cover, ignore my mention of mentor text and close reading to enjoy it the way EVERY picture book is meant to be- fully immersed and responding without analysis. No author or illustrator invests such effort with the nthoufght that audiences will pick their final work apart on the initial reading. 

But...

When you do get your hands on this remarkable book, after that first (or repeated) immersive readings and sharing, go back to it again. AllowTIME AND ATTENTION to savor the skilled "magic" of the text and the illustrations. Notice the aspects of this pairing that tug at your heart, that connect with your personal history and emotions, that invite you to tell someone else about it. Most of the books I review are library copies, but this one will be part of my collection of "keepers".