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!

Memories and Transitions: THE BLUE HOUSE

 Covid19 Anchor in Time:

The world is nearly a year into the unspecified date on which "patient one" unknowingly contracted the earliest case of Covid 19. Soon after, the spread began, the questions eventually arose, and specialists in contagious diseases began the long and puzzling journey that brings us to our "current" global count of nearly forty million positive diagnoses and more than a million deaths due to Covid. The ever-changing reports can be checked HERE. 

I mention this because, despite these tragic numbers, and even some gradually developing treatment and vaccine news, people continue to be evicted, to seek new dwellings, to put homes up for sale and buy new ones, to pack belongings and move possessions into the spaces previously occupied by others, by people who considered it their home. Especially in these uncertain times, how long does it take to make that new dwelling feel like YOUR home? And what, precisely, helps you turn the page to that new reality?

Homes are so much more than the structures in which we live. The final stanza of a poem I wrote when my parents moved from their longtime home makes this point:

"A house is just an empty stage

where families live and love and age.

The script is stored, each detailed page,

in the memories of the cast."  

(Sandy Brehl)

Alfred A. Knopf

THE BLUE HOUSE, written and illustrated by Phoebe Wahl, explores this question with incredibly tender insight and details. The front and back covers effectively lift this very specific blue house and this very special father-son pair (Leo and his dad) into a liminal white space that could represent any place, any time. The art there and throughout the book utilizes Wahl's characteristic and intentionally primitive style, infused with earthy colors and a very relatable charm. 

The polar opposite of this universality is revealed at the opening endpapers, which absorbed my attention for an extended time. The "blue house" is recognizable from the cover, but it lives on a very specific street corner of a very specific neighborhood, one in which every square foot is dense with quirky characteristics and personality, in which each seems to have countless stories to tell. There is a warmth and welcoming spirit to this opening, one that continues with every turn of the page.

The story is simple, and infused with emotions ranging from joy to pain to peace, and everything in between. With  hand-lettered, limited text and page after page of intriguingly detailed images, readers learn that the blue house is both dilapidated and a personal palace. Indoors and out, it is the stage on which Leo and his dad celebrate their love and the luxury of lives well-lived, deeply experienced in each moment. When harsh reality forces them to move, they experience "all the feels" together, emptying that old blue house of their lives. No spoiler here, except to praise expert storytelling that offers a departure scene that effectively foreshadows the eventual resolution scene. 

Ultimately, we all move on. That is true of physical circumstances, in our emotional lives, and in our relationships. Transitions take time. This simple story is a warmhearted reminder that we will survive change. We can and will, in fact, grow from transitions. What matters most is how we face change. The final endpapers offer a look at that opening neighborhood with some changes underway. There is enough continuity of familiar and comforting anchors to promise that change, over time, can lead us forward in life to something better, while retaining the best of what has gone before. 

As with the best picture books, this one entertains and appeals on its face. The underlying and powerful themes offer meat for discussion, but that isn't necessary. Even the youngest children will be adding it to their "read it again" stack, absorbing the themes with each repetition. The boy in the story is clearly an oder child but what entices and appeals is the core of the  story- the lively and loving and accepting daily life of this family.

This is one of the growing number of CYBILS AWARDS nominees in the fiction picture book category. Links to reviews of  more of the 100+ titles (so far), by me and the other panelists, can be found HERE. This is NOT going to be an easy decision, folks!