Time to Think Ahead to Winter- on Winter Solstice Hill

 No complaints, please, about the topic of this review. Ads for Halloween costumes have been showing up in social media reels, back-to-school sales are already fading, and stock-up-for Thanksgiving ads actually showed up this week. Weirdly early, all of the above. 

CHARLESBRIDGE. October, 2026

Yes, the date is correct... AUGUST!
But the book under discussion here is WINTER SOLSTICE HILL, written by Cathy Stefanec Ogren and illustrated by Rebecca Evans. Why now, you ask, when we have yet to reach Fall's equinox? I'll answer that important question at the end of the post.

First, check out this lovely cover. You can see, as I did, that the story has been portrayed visually by a very perceptive and talented illustrator. Rendered in natural tones with soft edges, the scenes throughout have a light-infused effect. Indoor spreads of  the worn-wood floors, hearth fire, and simple furnishings are softly glazed with a glow that offers a "comfort-food" impact. That's true despite the frosted windows and concerned expression on the face of Ella.

The text is fluent and perfectly matched to the welcoming and straightforward life portrayed. Art details include moving boxes to unpack, a baby sibling, and a joyful golden dog, none of which are mentioned in text. Such details flood the spread with multiple examples of both security and change. Readers quickly connect with Ella (tagged by Grandpa as Ella-Bella) on her quest. They will trudge to the top of the hill, Winter Solstice Hill, where Ella's great-grandparent settlers first stood on Winter Solstice to share a wish for the first time. Finally, Ella is old enough to take part in the tradition. 

Readers join the uphill traipse with Ella, Grandpa, dog, and toboggan to search for the perfect tree, then hope to view the first Solstice star at the summit. Ella is on a mission to make an important but unstated wish. 

The spreads immerse readers in the depth of family history and generational connection, supporting text clues that these generations will be sharing that family home on heritage land. Just as we join in the satisfaction of finding a perfect tree, the weather (and tone) shift, adding the tension of impending storms that will block a view of any stars. In fact, arrival at the summit will not be achieved on that solstice night. The resolve from that point forward allows readers to experience Ella's wide emotional range, and to share in the gratifying ending. Will the wish need to wait, or is another approach possible? 

Overall, this generational story allows the specificity of the characters to feel universal, offering the softening effects of a dusting of light snow. The mix of eagerness, anxiety, joy, enthusiasm, disappointment, and excitement invite discussion, as well as recognition that few feelings are singular. The illustrations contribute so much to an already appealing text, magnifying the well-told story and delightful characters.

Now, back to my opening promise to indicate why a book about Winter Solstice matters in August? This goes to the business side of publishing, in which books are in their final phases (preparing to print, ship, distribute, and sell) for several months before the actual release date. It has become a business model to offer presale of those books, which can even drive the number actually printed and sold. It's a measure of interest and appeal, allowing publishers to guard against overproduction. I'll fully admit that I buy fewer books these days, preferring to read library copies when possible. In this case I was provided a digital copy to preview because I wanted to read it and encourage followers here to consider preorders. This is a seasonal celebration of the ways we carry on traditions, share family stories, imagine ourselves in relation to others, and more. With the multi-cultural holidays that center around late December and relate their stories and celebrations to the Earth's shift from dark to light, this book serves as an axis for all those other books. The storytelling, tone, and resolution can be the foundation for endless family and broader holiday stories at that time of year. To assure that you can purchase enough copies for the many people you'll want to gift with this book and to encourage publishers to produce enough to meet demand, please give this one a close look and consider using the preorder option to support it. 

 

Speaking of Home: ANYTHING Deserves Celebration

 The prior post shared a picture book in which HOME travels with the family, in much the way a turtle carries its home on its back. If you missed it, I hope you will take a look, HERE. The bottom line in that heartfelt story is that HOME is where LOVE is. 

CHRONICLE BOOKS, 2025

ANYTHING is a story by Rebecca Stead (multiple award-winning author who captures the emotional landscape of children of many ages) and illustrated by Gracey Zhang, (also a multi-award-winning illustrator). It, too, explores what and where HOME is, and how to find it.

Change is never easy, and this is a story of change and longing. A family must move, but their beloved home does not come with them. Not even the blue footed-bathtub for Thursday night baths. What, then, will make this new place HOME?

Those who write picture book manuscripts and seek feedback from other writers and editors are sometimes (often) told that their story really begins several pages into the text. What that means is that the first lines and pages are backstory, setting the stage, but not revealing anything important about the problem or characters. Backstory matters, but if a story is well-told, the talents of storyteller and illustrator will combine to reveal this without having to state it in advance. 

This is Stead's first picture book, and I hope it will not be her last. A writer of longer text (novels for middle grades or teens or adults) must come to picture book writing as if to poetry. What is required is trust in the reader to fill in from images and experiences what is not delivered in words. Condensing the luxury of 40,000 words to under 400 words for the entire book is  daunting, to say the least. In this case, though, Stead demonstrates expertise and appreciation for the elegance and absence of words in the best of picture books. 

In brief, a young girl and her dad are in day one of a move to a new apartment. Dad is deeply aware of the stress of moving and of his child's struggle with change. The first line is:

"The cake was chocolate."

Yep. That's it.

But just look at what that does to the opening.

Interior opening spread: ANYTHING, Chronicle Books

The illustrations are mostly backline drawings, some sketchy and some darkened and overlaid to focus attention and give weight to the scene element or characters. Isolated items carry attention through color (cake, rainbow, imagined wishes). The ANYTHING of the title refers to Dad's effort to make a hard transition more welcoming. Blowing out the candle on the cake allows for wishes for ANYTHING. (Even three wishes for ANYTHING, no matter how hard those wishes might be!)

The ensuing pages reveal a child with an aching heart who keeps some wishes to herself, a dad who knows his child well and provides safe spaces to share the wishes and help build a new home together. This is a full-sized book with loads of white space and minimal art and text. All the better to focus readers on that art and those well-chosen words. 

I won't spoil the deeply loving relationship, challenges, and resolve of this new release, because words I'd use would never do justice to the minimalist-richness of a book that is bound to be in the running for awards and praise in this calendar year. Beyond that I see this as a classic for years to come, ideal for Father's Day, for moving day, for change and loss, for discussions of HOME and what matters most, and as mentor text for writers and illustrators everywhere. 

A delightful note is that the first person narrator is sketched at such an age and with medium length hair and generic clothing so that they could visually read as a boy or girl. The lack of color and detail in character images means that readers can assign their own skin tones and identifiers to the characters if they wish, although they tend toward Caucasian. 

May I challenge you to get this book and consider carefully what it means to write what matters, but ONLY what matters, and to draw WHAT MATTERS. Like poetry, picture books like this make it clear that words without pictures fail, pictures without words often fail (though there are certainly some unforgettably fabulous wordless picture books), and both require an attentive, invested reader. That human element, with the right words and the right images, simply SOARS!

Viet Nam:Three Must-See, Must-Read Picture Books

As the weeks wind down on America's two decades of undeclared war on Afghanistan, attention is being paid to who is left behind and what their fates might be. That is especially true for anyone who was native/local but had in any way supported the occupying forces. As the early months of this military incursion unfolded, many of us were of an age to recognize patterns similar to the years of the Viet Nam war-not-a-war. 

Our American veterans of Viet Nam were treated horribly upon their return home, only being shown some limited respect within recent years. What they witnessed and participated in while there is rarely part of public discussion. It is also true that the stories of lives of those who managed to escape after the final withdrawal are absent from most public platforms, especially picture books. My search, admittedly minimal, suggests that refugee stories about Latin America and Middle East refugees outnumber accounts of that Viet Nam era.

I'm pleased to say that some authentic voices from those Viet Nam experiences are now arriving on bookstore shelves. Here are three that I highly recommend and hope will fly off the shelves to the hands of readers of many ages, and pass on to the hands of others who want to share, and on and on. 

Eerdmanns, 2008

ALWAYS WITH YOU is written by Ruth Vander Zee and illustrated by Ronald Himler. Inspired by a true story, four year old Kim is playing in a coconut grove when she witnesses the destruction of her village. She manages to locate her dying mother in the crater where their house once stood. I won't spoil the details of this story, because each and every page unfolds with intensity and strength that a synopsis would dilute. 

This, of the three titles, seems to conform most closely to familiar "stories" about lives and survival in Viet Nam, things that have been publicly shared in the past. In this case, Kim was the only one to survive, despite being seen and brutally struck in the head. In that one day she lost her mother, her village, most of her vision, and many memories, yet she survived. And she never forgot her mother's dying words. 

This is a story of tragic proportions but finds saving grace in Kim's  rescue by American soldiers, in the safe haven she found in a China Beach orphanage, and in her eventual relocation to the United States where she lives today. An author note provides a few facts about Kim's real life after those years, as well as brief information about the Viet Nam "War" and its eventual ending. This serious and realistic story is written with a relatively light touch and gentle text to offer reassurances from the first pages through to the last. Adults will "read" much more into it, but young ones will find consolation in the strength and optimism and trust of Kim, a child not unlike them, who found hope and love despite tragedy.

Orchard Press, 2021

Next is the picture book WISHES, written by Muon Thi Van and illustrated by Victo Ngai also drawn from the author's actual experiences. This story, too, emerged from actual events. The author has written a lyrical, minimal text in which, in only severity-five words, inanimate objects express single lines that reveal a wealth of emotion, tension, action, reaction, struggle, and resolution. As in:

"The night wished it was quieter.

The bag wished it was deeper.

...    ...

The heart wished it was stronger."

This is one of those remarkably expressive and evocative books that could nearly have been wordless, and yet each word, each wish, enriches the illustrations with even deeper meaning. By using this approach the creative team is able to take modern-day children on a journey of escape and terror without traumatizing them. Questions will be asked, depending on the age of the reader, and parallels can be draw to present day "boat people" forced to leave behind homelands in order to preserve life. The power here is massive without being overwhelming. And the story itself matters, as do the questions that will arise.

Pajama Press, 2021

Finally, ADRIFT AT SEA: A Vietnamese Boy's Story of Survival is written by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch with Tuan Ho and illustrated by Brian Deines. With opening and closing pages of captioned photos of Tuan Ho and his family, there is not doubt that the story of secrecy, dodging bullets, desperate drifting at sea, and eventual rescue by an American aircraft carrier are all the more breathtaking because they are true. End notes alongside those final photos clarify the who, what, where and when of this Viet Nam history, although thee are not enough words in  the world to provide an answer to why. 

This is a perfect nonfiction picture book to integrate language arts with social studies topics, and not just limited to studies of Viet Nam. The main text and vivid, expressive illustrations will entice readers of any age, making an intense and complex story accessible, even for learners who avoid challenging text for whatever reasons (sustaining attention, being English language learners, or facing challenges with fluency). The complexity of front and back matter invite further reading and research at every level, too, especially about the subject, Tuan Ho. 

These three titles are timely reading as we live through distant but eerily similar circumstances in Afghanistan today. (There will be no boat refugees, since it is a landlocked country,  but the need to escape is very real.) Young people are hearing references to this transition from a prolonged war to a nation left in threatened circumstances and filled with unpredictable outcomes. Looking back and discussing ways in which this occurred can lay groundwork for meaningful comparisons and inquiry.