siblings

We Are Giants by Amber Lee Dodd

we are giants

Amnesty’s poll for International Children’s Book Day revealed that half of parents surveyed think reading a book is the best way to develop empathy. (YouGov 53% of 964 parents, March 2016). But to evoke empathy a character has to be fully-fledged, fully-rounded – believable.

The book doesn’t have to be ‘issue-based’ to achieve this. Amber Lee Dodd’s debut children’s book is about a girl whose mother has dwarfism. So it fits into the ‘issue’ and ‘diversity’ mould. But, actually, the book transcends this compartmentalisation, because the author has written her protagonist in quite an exceptional way.

Nine-year-old Sydney is concerned and upset that she has to move away from her home and her school and friends when her mother loses her furniture shop. They uproot to be nearer Sydney’s grandmother, and Sydney has to make new friends and fit in at her new school. She also has an older sister entering her teens – Jade, who is sparky and fractious, adding conflict and a great dynamic to the family:

“Let’s just say she no longer needs to stuff cotton wool down her bra. I catch Mum looking at her sometimes with a sad look on her face.”

Throughout the book there is the underlying message of learning to accept others, in all guises, reflected in Sydney’s mother’s dwarfism – she is particularly resilient – a favourite moment is her moment of self-control in the face of prejudice with the landlord:

“I knew I shouldn’t have let people like you have this place.” He says to her.

But essentially the book isn’t about dwarfism – partly because Sydney deals with her mum’s difference in such a matter-of-fact way that it doesn’t intrude the narrative. It’s about Sydney – a child coming to terms with change in her life.

And Amber Lee Dodd handles this so well that the reader feels they are right inside Sydney’s head. That’s why the novel flies past at such pace – it’s so easy to read and quite gripping, because it’s like reading an email from a friend about her new struggles and experiences.

Sydney has also suffered the death of her father at a young age, and so some of the book deals with her grief – as she retells stories she remembers that he told her, as well as thinking about what would have made him proud.

There are some particularly great psychological touches in that Sydney wants to stay small – to be like her parents – but also I think a universal childhood desire, which is the wish to remain the ‘baby’ and small, but also that conflict of wanting independence – and this goes to the heart of the novel – the thrust behind it. Sydney, as with most children, wants both – and Dodd manages to convey this so well with the theme of dwarfism behind it:

“I tried to do a shrinking exercise to calm myself down…imagining myself disappearing for a few seconds and coming back smaller, disappearing for a few more seconds and getting even tinier.”

Sydney also talks about her ‘wild thing’ inside – that hard to control emotion of anger, which can jump to the surface with no warning. It’s executed well:

“It wasn’t me speaking any more, it was the Wild Thing. And the Wild Thing was angry.”

Of course, the plot sings along too – there are some dramatic scenes with Sydney’s sister as she too tries to come to terms with their new circumstances, the mother’s frustration with her job, and lastly the grandmother – a wonderful character, who means well but doesn’t always fit to the primary family group!

“The thing I’ve learned about grandmas is this. They can’t resist if you ask them for help.”

There is lots to talk about within the book and lots to like about it too. It doesn’t set out to be too complex, but tells a story by wholeheartedly bringing its characters to life. The story has giant heart – although of course, size doesn’t matter. You can buy it here.

Bikes, Trains and Boats

No information books about transport here, but three lively stories for newly independent readers. Each contains phenomenal illustrations, making these all easy transitions from picture books.

the secret railway

The Secret Railway by Wendy Meddour, illustrated by Sam Usher

This is a sparkling book, everything one could want for a young child starting to read, as it bursts with joy and magic and the silliness of fantasy lands where anything is possible. Wendy Meddour is the author of the quirky series Wendy Quill, as well as more recently, How the Library (Not the Prince) Saved Rapunzel, and she does have a wacky way of looking at things, which is a delight in a young children’s book.

A gorgeous sibling relationship between older brother Leo and younger sister Ella develops throughout the story. The children have moved house and while the parents unpack, the siblings go exploring and discover a secret railway in the station workshop of their new station house. But of course it’s not just a disused train line, but a magical railway that leads to the Kingdom of Izzambard where Griselda, the Master Clockmaker, has stopped time.

Riding the train in error, Ella and Leo are informed that they must return the magic magnifying glass to The Chief Snarkarian at The Great, Grand Library of the Snarks, and receive a key in return that will help them back to their own world. It’s as crazy as it sounds, but satisfyingly eventful and imaginative. With swooping mechanical birds, butterfly spies, and a marketplace full of beavers reminiscent of the munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, this is a jam-packed story of wonder and adventure. For an early reader it bursts with action and non-stop fun.

The book talks to the reader with text that is spunky and full of vitality, from the beginning where it asks for the readers’ tickets, to the description of ‘ordinary children’:

“Ella and Leo Leggit were not ordinary children. ‘Well, of course, you’ll say: ‘No children are’
And you’d be right. I’m sure you’re very peculiar. But what I mean is, Ella and Leo were extremely not ordinary.”

Each chapter is a different platform number, and the entire story is accentuated by Sam Usher’s now distinctive and endearing illustrations. Usher draws the sort of children that you want to hug, and manages to make every scene seem three-dimensional – you could just step into the story.

More to follow in The Secret Railway and the Crystal Caves in July 2016. You can chug along on the first Secret Railway here.

grey island red boat

Grey Island Red Boat by Ian Beck

A Little Gem by name (from Barrington Stoke’s Early Reader series) and a little gem by nature, Ian Beck writes a story that makes you want to sink back into a comfortable chair and be sailed away into the magic. He tells a modern day fairy tale with his own illustrations punctuating the text, and has dedicated it to his grandson. It’s exactly the tale you would imagine a grandparent telling a grandchild.

A princess lives with her father, the King, on the Island of Ashes. As the reader may expect from the name, everything on the island is grey. The sea, the sky, the land. The black and white illustrations convey this too. It rains all the time, and the month is always November. The princess feels that something is missing, and the tone of the text is muted, sad and withdrawn.

Then one day a small boat washes up on the island – and there’s something different about it. It’s red. Before long the stranger aboard has disembarked and is colouring the world with every touch of his hand. Some people are bewitched by this – the Princess and others feel “tickled” by it. But the King fears change, and takes action to prevent it, although change proves inevitable.

Ian Beck brilliantly captures the rhythm of a fairy tale or legend, as well as an underlying depth beneath the simple story. Reading the book was like feeling a warmth spread across one’s body. Children will adore the gradual introduction of colour into the illustrated landscapes, and the perfectly easy descriptions of the feelings colour gives the people on the island. Adults will see the depth of the message. You can buy it here.

fergus

Flying Fergus: The Best Birthday Bike by Chris Hoy, with Joanna Nadin, illustrated by Clare Elsom

Sometimes I feel reluctant to review ‘celeb’ books on the blog, knowing that they will probably gain a huge audience in the wider press anyway. But the publishers have paired Hoy with children’s author Joanna Nadin quite brilliantly, and the result is a hugely entertaining story.

Fergus desperately wants a Sullivan Swift for his ninth birthday. A stupendous bike with “24 gears, hydraulic brakes and state of the art suspension.” When he receives a rusty old second hand bike, he’s a little disappointed. Until he discovers something magical happens when he rides it in the right way.

The story whisks the reader into a fantasyland, complete with a princess (who wears mismatched welly boots), a Swamp of Certain Death, and some rather ridiculous rules.

Clare Elsom’s illustrations deserve great credit. The book is jam-packed with them, and each is as funny and madcap as the text. The princess in particular, with her dishevelled hair and wonky eyes, is a sight to behold. There are also two maps at the beginning.

But despite cramming this slim little early reader with oodles of fun and endless adventures, there are still some great messages within. Fergus has a heart-warming relationship with his grandfather, who is endlessly encouraging about Fergus’s ambition to win a cycle race. But he firmly believes that it’s not about luck – it’s about hard graft.

There is also some poignancy within the story as Fergus’ father has been missing from his life for nine years and Fergus still dreams of finding him and making his father proud.

There are so many facets to this book that each child will be able to extract their own enjoyment – whether it be fantasy, the reality of the bullies, a missing father, a princess, or simply ambitions and dreams. A good start to the series. Pedal your way to your copy here.

 

 

New Siblings

The source of so much angst and so much delight. So much has been written about siblings, probably because children under 11 spend more time with their siblings than with anyone else. Research has been done into how one’s placement in a family affects health, opportunities, intelligence – of course being the youngest I’m sure that makes me the best (sibling are you reading this?). What’s for sure though, is that having a sibling affects you in some way, so it’s best to have a picture book on hand to help navigate children through the chopping waters of sibling rivalry.

alphonse

Alphonse, That is Not Ok to Do by Daisy Hirst (creator of the much acclaimed The Girl with the Parrot on her Head) was published this month, and has a stand-out brightly coloured cover. The siblings in question are friendly endearing monsters (in look, not necessarily behaviour). Natalie starts out alone – as all older siblings do, revelling in the undivided attention she receives from her parents (represented by two hands she is holding), but then inevitably along comes a sibling (in this case, Alphonse – a blue monster in a buggy, looking already incredibly cheeky). The reader will expect Natalie to feel glum about this – indeed she is pictured as such, but actually the text reveals that most of the time she doesn’t mind.

Then of course, Alphonse does things that are “Not OK to Do” to Natalie’s things, and Alphonse isn’t so welcome.

The ending is uplifting – showing Natalie’s care and protection for her little sibling, and good emotional understanding of his level of ability, and what they can do together. It’s a clever illustration of how siblings are with each other, and the emotions they feel.

What’s more the book is delightfully coloured mainly in the three primary colours, with fairly childish warm-looking illustrations (although sophisticatedly implying much more than the text), which makes the book very child-friendly. Purchase it here.

wolfie the bunny

Wolfie the Bunny by Ame Dyckman and illustrated by Zachariah Ohora was also published very recently, but unlike the universal feel of the monsters in Alphonse, this is a truly American tale. And certainly quirky. The cute Bunny family return to their New York home to discover a bundle left outside their door. The parents fall in love with the baby ‘Wolfie’, but older child Dot is terrified that “He’s going to eat us all up”. The reader immediately empathises with Dot, and realises that yes, wolves do tend to eat rabbits.

Dot isn’t convinced even when Wolfie starts to venerate Dot, by following and dribbling on her, and she remains frustrated that her parents don’t listen despite his growing size. When Dot and Wolfie bump into an even larger predator at the co-op, things take a surprising turn, and Dot learns to accept her ‘little’ brother.

With thick acrylics in muted pinks, mustards and greens, this is a very different book visually. It feels retro – the featured cameras certainly look so, although this is hipster New York where vintage is all the rage – and the clothes of the characters also old-school, and yet it feels modern in tone.

It answers all the emotions on new siblings – their ability to change the family dynamic, the animalistic tendencies of drooling babies, the attention lavished upon them by the parents – and yet remains distinctive and leftfield. You can buy it here.

arent you lucky

If you’re looking for something far more traditional in tone and illustration, then Aren’t You Lucky! by Catherine and Laurence Anholt, well-trusted authors on families, will do the trick. This has a beautiful colour palate with incredibly detailed pictures of family life, which really give the reader the opportunity to linger. There is initially “just Mummy and Daddy and me”, me being a female pre-schooler.

The time of pregnancy is documented over double pages in small illustrations of each month – so that children can track the changes in weather and settings through the seasons. This is a portrayal of a happy family and a happy childhood. When baby brother comes along, the child is told “Aren’t you lucky!” but she is not so sure.

As in the books above, the emotions are set out – the pre-schooler feels neglected for attention, wants to be the baby again, and doesn’t understand the simplicity of a baby’s needs and desires.

There’s a simplistic but beautiful twist to the text of “Aren’t you lucky!” at the end, as the pre-schooler accepts her baby brother, particularly as he grows. For me, the familiarity and reassurance of the illustrations wins the day. Re-published recently with updated cover. You can purchase it here.

we just had a baby

We Just Had a Baby by Stephen Krensky, illustrations by Amelie Graux wins in the humour awards. It portrays the older sibling (this time a boy) as frustrated and irritated by the new arrival – by how long she has taken to arrive, by her size, by the attention she gets (notice a familiar theme!).

But the faces in this book are exquisite – the expressions the mother’s friends pull when they look at the baby – the baby’s stare at her toy…and the little boy’s face as he practises both smiling and frowning at the baby and the responses they elicit.

The text too pulls in humour:

“We both have ten fingers and ten toes. I counted to make sure.
Mine are bigger.”

Understated jealousy, and incredulity that the baby is getting more attention, when she’s obviously not as good. But of course, as always, this big brother comes round to accept that this little sister will probably make a good playmate:

“I have BIG plans for us!”

It’s cute, and quite adorable, and would be on my list if I were doing the baby thing all over again. If you are, pre-order it here. This baby will be born very soon!

 

Fusion Fun

The brilliant thing about reading books with children is that it’s fun. Storytelling can cross genres and create exciting new fusion titles.

Pablo and Jane and the Hot Air Contraption by Jose Domingo fuses comic book with picture book and a Where’s Wally style hide-and-seek to create a madcap colourful wacky adventure story. And Electrigirl by Jo Cotterill and Cathy Brett fuses comic book with novel to create a superhero adventure.

electrigirl

Electrigirl tells the story of Holly Sparkes, an ordinary 12 year old girl, who gets struck by lightning, or so she thinks. But then she starts to notice her new strange electrical charge. It takes her comic-mad brother to recognise that she has electrical superpowers, and that his sister is now a bona fide superhero. Just as well, because her best friend Imogen has disappeared, and someone needs to battle Professor Macavity, head of CyberSky the phone company, to find her.

Although a slim adventure story novel, Electrigirl sparkily packs in a host of elements, from a new feisty female superhero to sibling loyalty, bullying in the playground, and the dangers of mobile phones both to the brain, and also the damage they can wreak on social interaction. As befits any superhero book, there’s also an evil villain at the head of a nasty monopolising corporation.

But this story is perfect for reluctant readers, because the scenes that build tension, and the scenes of superhero action are all depicted by Cathy Brett as graphic comic strips. The book starts, in fact, with Cathy’s comic book portrayals of the main characters, and the illustrations really kick off when Holly gets zapped. There is no lack of explosions in the book – at first Holly can’t control her powers and blows everything up, which is enormous fun.

The author drops in a number of ‘clues’ and intrigue along the way, such as “if only I’d known then what I know now,” as well as some wonderful vocabulary in the comic strips – zaps and tingles and schwumpzz, mixing all the elements of the two genres beautiful in this fusion novel.

The next in the series is out on 1 August this year, and I’m feeling tingly already. Age 7+. You can buy it here.

pablo

Pablo and Jane and the Hot Air Contraption bursts with bright, bold wacky colours, as befits the adventure inside. The picture book starts as comic strip: Pablo and Jane are bored, so decide to explore the spooky old house up on the hill, having hilariously ruled out the ‘abandoned sawmill’, ‘the old graveyard’, ‘the haunted orphanage’ and the ‘tunnel of whispers’! Once there, they are trapped into the Monster Dimension by an evil cat, Dr Felinibus.

There follows twelve double pages of full page illustrations from Lopsided London to Monstrous Moscow, Muerto Mexico and ‘Orrible Outback. In each spread, Pablo and Jane, and the reader must find the correct tools to fix their Hot Air Time Machine, and travel back home, in a kind of ‘Where’s Wally’ scenario.

Each of these luscious spreads is crammed full with detail, colour, mad figures, props and entertainment – in fact the end of the book suggests other things to look for on each spread too including such mischievous elements as “A handsome troll (compared to the others, that is)”, and “2 zombies in rubber rings who can’t swim”. Each time the reader examines the illustrations, there is even more to find, jokes to see, and the ‘finding’ is fairly challenging.

The adventure resumes in comic book style as the children find their way home. It’s perfect for reluctant readers, enormous fun, and there are carefully wrapped narratives in each scene.

The book bursts with energy and flamboyance – and beware – monsters. Also suitable for age 7+ years. You can find it here.