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Smasher by Scott Bly. Blue Sky Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., New York, 2014. Ages 8-14; grades 5-8.

“Day after day Grandfather barked at Charles, snapping instructions. …‘You must prepare! Remember the prophecy: A time will come when the Hum will no longer serve us—no one will feel it, or even believe in it….Study boy! You’re the new generation. Study to keep it alive.’”

Twelve-year-old Charles chafes under his grandfather’s rules. He doesn’t want to study. In fact, he’s planning on running away. But when he is visited by robotic, time traveling, Geneva, a girl from 2042 who insists he travel to the future to save it, he’s not sure he wants to run that far away.

At first glance I wasn’t at all sure I was going to enjoy this book. The first few pages, describing a boy in the 1500’s speaking like a kid in the 2000’s, was off-putting for this historical fiction fan. In the authors note, Bly explains that he wanted the language to be accessible to today’s kids, so he had Charles (who soon goes by Charlie) speak like a contemporary twelve-year-old. It was probably the right decision for his target audience.

Geneva needs Charlie to help save the future because Charlie has a special gift. In Charlie’s time, many people are aware of the “Hum,” a magical power. Only a few people, however, know how to use it. Charlie’s family does. At first Charlie doesn’t trust Geneva, because his grandfather has told him not to trust anyone: he could end up dead because people with such power have been persecuted. But Charlie has another gift that Geneva needs. He is a math genius.

Smasher is a fast moving page turner that even a non-techie like me enjoyed. Just to be clear, there is a lot of math and techie speech in this book that a phobic like me didn’t even try to understand. The action, though, and the premise, hooked me. Two kids with special gifts out to save the world will pique my interest every time.

It took me awhile to get used to the omniscient voice. Because of that, I felt I didn’t really know Charlie, the main character, until much later in the story. Geneva was a more fully developed character from her first appearance. But those are minor points. This book will be devoured by readers who are into science fiction with a dab of fantasy.

Flip, Float, Fly Seeds on the Move by JoAnn Early Macken, illustrated by Pam Paparone. Holiday House, NY, New York, 2008.

Be prepared to appreciate those maple seeds inhabiting your planters and dandelion seeds floating through the air when you read this book.  Like many a gardener I fight with those helicopter-like seeds my maple trees seem intent on planting in my container gardens.  And don’t get me started on dandelions.  But being a sometime kindergarten teacher, I know the allure of dandelions to young children.  They seem to just go together: small children and those yellow flowers that most adults feverishly try to eradicate from their yards. Some teachers forbid the kids from bringing them into the classroom, but I’m just an old softie, I guess.  I just don’t have the will to tell a little girl to throw away the dandelions she so carefully picked for me.  (Instead I quietly throw them away later.)

Flip, Float, Fly Seeds on the Move is a lovely non-fiction picture book from which I learned what those weird looking seed pods are that I see sometimes on walks in my neighborhood. Locust tree pods. I don’t have a locust tree in my yard but I see them everywhere and now I know what they are.  I love the tree’s fern-like leaves that seem to turn silver, quivering in the wind.

Early Macken’s perfect prose tells how seeds get carried away and replanted in new places: by water, wind, and even bats: “A bat finds a feast in a fig tree and wings away with the seeds inside.  The seeds pass through its body unharmed and fall to the ground in its droppings.”  Squirrels hide acorns “…and bury them to eat later. But does it use all the food it collects? No. Lost acorns can grow into strong, shady oak trees.”  My yard has a prolific squirrel population so when I’m digging in the soil I’m forever finding acorns the squirrels have “squirreled” away.

The realistic acrylic paintings by Pam Paparone are a riot of color.  One favorite page of mine depicts a garden with everything from carrots to roses.  A small boy carries a potted hydrangea bigger than he and a small dog waits for a ride in a wagon.  A seed package is tipped over in the corner, flower seeds spilling out.  Several pages have easy to read diagrams of the parts of plants, such as the flower, fruit, leave, pod, etc. set off in a white circle so even the youngest child’s eyes will be drawn to them.

The last three pages have diagrams of the parts of plants with definitions and notes on what conditions seeds must have in order to take root, grow and make more seeds.  This is the perfect book to read to that young gardener in your family who is helping parents or grandparents with planting.

Sophie’s Squash by Pat Zietlow Miller, illustrated by Anne Wilsdorf. Schwartz & Wade. New York, NY, 2013. 

Ok. I have to admit I love squash. And I enjoy gardening. But even dyed in the wool vegetable haters will be captivated by Sophie and her squash friend, Bernice. Sophie and her parents go to the farm market one day and pick out a perfect butternut squash. “Her parents planned to serve it for supper, but Sophie had other ideas.” It turns out that the squash was “…just the right size to hold in her arms…bounce on her knee” and “to love.”  So Sophie draws a face on the squash and wraps it in a blanket.  When suppertime comes Sophie tells her mom, “I call her Bernice.” Mom decides on pizza.

This delightful book follows Sophie and Bernice as they go to the library, do somersaults and visit other squash at the farm market.  Every night she gives “…Bernice a bottle, a hug, and a kiss.” Her parents console themselves:  “Well, we did hope she’d love vegetables.”

But the life of a squash is short-lived. Inevitably, they become mushy. The way in which  Zietlow Miller leads Sophie to come to learn about the life cycle of a vegetable is endearing. Wilsdorf’s evocative watercolor and ink illustrations beautifully contribute to the satisfying resolution of Bernice’s life.  Finally, Sophie’s Squash is not just a sweet little story, but an avenue into a conversation about the circle of life itself.

One Gorilla A Counting Book, written and illustrated by Anthony Browne. Candlewick Press, Somerville, MA, 2013.

This is the kind of counting book adult readers will never tire of. It’s an art book, a science book and a math book all in one. But it’s even more than that. It’s a book that beautifully  portrays what Pete Seeger referred to as our “rainbow race.”

On the first page we meet a formidable gorilla. Take a good look at his eyes. He’s sizing you up, as if to say, “I recognize you, fellow primate.”

The second page is a blast of orange portraying two orangutans, a mother and baby. The mother looks lovingly at the sweet face of her contented baby. Number three depicts an adult chimpanzee and two chimps. I like to think this adult is a dad. There’s something quite fatherly about the way he’s holding the two “toddlers.”

Every page that increases the number of primates is a riot of color. The mixed media illustrations, portraying our ancestral cousins, jump off the page.

Lest you think the story is over when you get to ten lemurs, turn the page to discover a self-portrait of the author. “All primates. All one family. All my family..” the text reads. Turn one more page and there is our “rainbow race,” a group picture of folks from all over the world. Now look closer. Go back to the previous pages and see if you can match up the human faces with our lesser cousins. This is, quite simply, one of the most intriguing and beautiful counting books I’ve seen.

I am re-posting my review of This Land is Your Land in honor of Pete Seeger’s passing.

This Land Is Your Land, words and music by Woody Guthrie; Paintings by Kathy Jakobsen, with a tribute by Pete Seeger.  Little Brown and Company, 1998, New York.

This familiar song never “looked” quite so beautiful.  Jakobsen’s paintings successfully depict the beauty of America, while at the same time illustrating the hard times Woody Guthrie sings about.  This edition includes all of Woody’s verses, some of which are conveniently overlooked when school children sing the song.  Those verses, though, are at the heart of what Woody Guthrie stood for.  The first page that illustrates a devastating time in our history is this one: “When the sun came shining, and I was strolling, And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling…”. The painting shows an idyllic farm with blue skies over head.  But look closer: in the distance is the black cloud of dust so familiar to farmers during the “dust bowl”.  Look even closer and the reader sees a farm wife running to her baby—who just moments ago was playing happily on a blanket outside—to get her indoors.  Father and son rush to the horses to get them in the barn and other family members point to the sky. A lot of history is told in that one double spread painting.

Another verse that is often skipped in elementary school, for obvious reasons, is this one: “As I went walking, I saw a sign there, And on the sign it said, ‘No trespassing.’ But on the other side it didn’t say nothing; That side was made for you and me.”

Woody goes on to describe the relief line of hungry people so common during the depression and asks: “Is this land made for you and me?”

As Woody goes walking that “…that freedom highway” another double page painting, shows a community center offering services such as day care, life skills classes and drug rehab.

The pages on which the familiar chorus is sung has intricate, detailed pictures children will love to pore over. The first chorus is accompanied by a full page painting of San Francisco Bay. The facing page—New York City with twin towers intact.

Another nice touch is the addition of tiny little squares, almost like post-it notes, that decorate the corners of many pages.  On these little notes are quotes from Woody, some playful like this one: “Left wing, chicken wing, it’s all the same to me.”  Others chronicle the dust bowl: “You could see the dust storm coming/ The cloud looked death–like black/ And through our mighty nation/ it left a dreadful track.”

Another double spread shows all the singers that have sung Woody’s songs over time. Pete Seeger pops up as well as Ledbelly, Joan Baez and many others.

This book is like a history book. Not the history of wars and battles, but the history of the people of this country: people struggling against nature, hunger and social systems deaf to their needs.  But it is also a celebration of the vast beauty of this nation with its redwoods and wheat fields, mountains and ocean shores.

Well, I could go on and on.  Just buy this one.  Do it.  Give it as a gift to yourself or a friend—of any age.  You’ll be glad you did.

I’ve been thinking about Sheri Sinykin’s recent book, Zayde Comes to live and why it resonates with me so. Zayde is a picture book about a little girl trying to understand what will happen to her grandfather after he dies. In turn, Zayde got me thinking about Kevin Henkes’ book, Wemberly Worried. On the surface one would think these two books don’t have much in common: a book about death and a book about worry. For me, though, they have everything to do with each other.

Let me start with a true story. When I was nine-years-old, my father died quite suddenly of a heart attack. I became terrified my mother was going to die next. That she had chronic heart palpitations that caused her to think she was dying did not help. For about two years after Dad’s death, if Mom happened to be sleeping when I was awake, I would get so agitated that I’d check to make sure she was still alive. Many times I woke her up just to be sure.

Many years ago, I had the good fortune to attend a presentation by Kevin Henkes. He showed slides of his work-in-progress at that time: Wemberly Worried. When he shared with us how he worried about everything as a child, it was easy for me to empathize. But one scene in Wemberly that Henkes projected on the screen caused such an emotional reaction in me, I found myself weeping. Wemberly, the tiny mouse who is the protagonist of the story, takes a flashlight and checks up on her parents while they are sleeping to “…make sure you were still here.” For that moment, in that hall, I was that nine-year-old child who insisted on waking  her mother in order to confirm she was still alive.

During a more recent presentation, titled “An Equivalent Happiness: Making it Out of Childhood,” Kevin Henkes stressed the obvious: that childhood is not by any means all fun and games. Most people remember a fair amount of hurt from their childhoods. But we are creatures of hope, and that hope carries us through to believe that sometime in the future, our unhappy days will even out with happy ones, thus the equivalent happiness.

Both Sinykin and Henkes understand and remember those fears and difficult times from childhood. These two talented writers bring a rich resource of literature to children’s lives. When the adult reader first sits down to read Wemberly Worried, she may not be thinking about how hard it is just to grow up. Wemberly, a child that worries “too much,” may seem like an anomaly. Isn’t childhood supposed to be carefree? But the adult reading this book will soon be reminded that, from a child’s point of view, the world is a new place, full of uncharted and scary experiences. A toddler dares to explore just beyond the reach of Mama, but quickly returns to her loving arms. A kindergartener fears the first day of school. An older child ponders what death means. Making it out of childhood isn’t easy. With books and authors like Sinykin and Henkes we can help our children on their way. And as adults, we will never tire of reading their books to our little ones because they resonate so much with our own lives.

Zayde Comes to Live by Sheri Sinykin, illustrated by Kristina Swarner. Peachtree Publishers, Atlanta, GA, 2012.

“Zayde comes to live with us. It’s because he is dying.” This forthright statement opens the story of a little Jewish girl whose grandfather has come to stay. It seems the opposite of what so many adults do when explaining illness or death to a child. Adults seem to think saying “He’s gone,” or “He’s sleeping,” is a more comfortable way to announce death to a child. But all such statements accomplish is to confuse children. The refreshing aspect of Zayde Comes to Live is that the ordeal of illness and death are described in a way that substitutes compassionate, truthful answers for confusion. Zayde can no longer play ball or hide and seek. Rachel watches him sleep “…to make sure he wakes up again.” Through Zayde and Rabbi Lev, Rachel learns that Zayde need not believe in Jesus or Allah to experience a peaceful transition between this life and the next. Rabbi Lev tells her, “He is living, Rachel, until the moment he dies.” Rachel thinks, “That doesn’t sound so scary.” Zayde tells her, “My spirit will live on…Because my love will stay here with you, and so will your memories. Always.”

Sinykin communicates her message with gentle care. She stresses this is not a book to simply hand off to a child. Rather it should be read by an adult at the right time in a child’s life when the need arises. Kristina Swarner’s illustrations created in linoleum prints with watercolor and colored pencil have a dream-like quality that perfectly complement Sinykin’s spare prose.

To learn more about Zayde and Sheri Sinykin’s writing journey see my interview with her here

Wemberly Worried, written and illustrated by Kevin Henkes. Greenwillow Books, Harper Collins Publisher, New York, NY, 2000.

Wemberly is a small mouse child who worries about everything. She shines a flashlight on her parents in the middle of the night to make sure they are still there. She worries she might shrink in the bathtub. When Wemberly is worried, which is most of the time, she rubs the ears of Petal, her stuffed rabbit. Then she worries that Petal will have no ears left. “Worry, worry, worry…too much worry,” says Grandma, who wears a T-shirt that states “Go With the Flow.” Wemberly’s biggest fear is starting preschool. (New Morning Nursery School, a nice touch for residents of Madison.) Papa tells her he loved school, but Wemberly is afraid kids might make fun of her name, or she won’t be able to find the bathroom, or, “What if I have to cry?”

This picture book hits all the right notes with its simple portrayal of one of the most common fears of young children: starting school for the first time. Henke’s watercolor illustrations, so simple and yet so evocative, complement the text. Black ink inscriptions, apart from the text, further communicate different characters feelings and comments.

Whether starting pre-school, kindergarten or first grade, this is the perfect book for what can be a very scary time in a young child’s life.