In the imagination of one little girl, the “blues” take the shape of a very big, very wet and very blue bumbling monster.
The Blooz isn’t scary; it just drips and sloshes and oozes (as one might expect of personified gloom). The little girl tries to keep it away and hotly tells it, “You weren’t invited.” But the Blooz dribbles right into her chocolate milk and is there to stay. She tries all different tactics: ignoring it, yelling at it, asking it questions, even offering the last peach-raspberry ice pop in the box. But the Blooz just sits there, large and lumpy. Exasperated, the little girl sits and stares right back. Finally, in a very Buddhist approach, she accepts the sadness for what it is and simply spends a little time with it. That is often the only true way to set the Blooz free. First-time author Levis writes with a particularly refreshing innocence that affirms readers’ feelings but also shows them that sadness does not have to be scary—or even a bad thing. Davis abets this with his portrayal of the Blooz as a vaguely Seuss-ian and wholly unthreatening big-nosed blob in an old-fashioned–looking, blue-striped romper.
The process of understanding emotion, especially for young children, can be overwhelming and abstract—the Blooz just might be the perfect concrete visual to help everyone get through those cranky days. (Picture book. 4-8)
