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HACK AND WHACK

Exhausting

Even Vikings need to sleep.

Not that rumbustious sibs Hack and Whack seem to believe that. When their mother calls them to bed, the children, appropriately hacking and whacking at each other with wooden ax and sword, resist energetically. “NOOOOOOOOOOO! We are HACK and WHACK on the attack!” is their refrain. The pint-sized warriors proceed to lay waste to their village, wreaking chaos on page after page as hapless Viking adults in horned helmets and breastplates look on. Both dialogue (in horned speech balloons) and sound effects emphasize the sound “ack”: “THWACK THWACK / CLICKETY… / CLACK” accompany visuals in which Hack and Whack tip over an occupied (and, judging by the sign on its door, wheelchair-accessible) outhouse. The kids roust all their friends for a climactic melee, after which their mom “sneaks” up on them, “smacks” them each on the head (the blow is not illustrated, but the children are depicted in cartoon-reeling mode, with stars and weaponry circling above their dazed heads), and bathes them before tucking them into their little longship-shaped beds. The story is slapstick violence start to finish, Cotterill’s busy spreads filled with Hack and Whack’s gleeful mayhem. All the Vikings are white, and their uniformly unkempt hair bristles in red, blond, and brown. Hack sports pigtails and a leather dress, while Whack wears short hair and a jerkin; evidently Viking violence is not gender-specific.

Exhausting . (Picture book. 5-8)

Pub Date: Nov. 14, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-571-32871-0

Page Count: 32

Publisher: Faber & Faber

Review Posted Online: Sept. 30, 2017

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2017

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BAGEL IN LOVE

In contrast to the carbs and desserts pictured, though sweet, this is unlikely to stick with readers.

A romance for carb (and pun!) lovers who dance to their own drummers and don’t give up on their dreams.

Bagel is a guy who loves to dance; when he’s tapping and twirling, he doesn’t feel plain. The problem is, he can’t find a partner for the Cherry Jubilee Dance Contest. Poppy says his steps are half-baked. Pretzel, “who was at the spa getting a salt rub…told him his moves didn’t cut the mustard.” He strikes out in Sweet City, too, with Croissant, Doughnut, and Cake. But just when he’s given up, he hears the music from the contest and can’t help moving his feet. And an echoing tap comes back to him. Could it be a partner at last? Yep, and she just happens to smell sweet and have frosting piled high. Bagel and Cupcake crush the contest, but winning the trophy? That “was just icing on the cake,” as the final sentence reads, the two standing proudly with a blue ribbon and trophy, hearts filling the space above and between them. Dardik’s digital illustrations are pastel confections. Sometimes just the characters’ heads are the treats, and other times the whole body is the foodstuff, with tiny arms and legs added on. Even the buildings are like something from “Hansel and Gretel.” However, this pun-filled narrative is just one of many of its ilk, good for a few yuks but without much staying power.

In contrast to the carbs and desserts pictured, though sweet, this is unlikely to stick with readers. (Picture book. 5-8)

Pub Date: Jan. 2, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-4549-2239-1

Page Count: 32

Publisher: Sterling

Review Posted Online: Sept. 17, 2017

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 1, 2017

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THIS BOOK IS NOT A PRESENT

A potential gift for fans of the contributors’ earlier work.

A text-heavy, joke-filled monograph about a dreaded bestowal.

In this meta text, an unseen narrator gripes about everything they wish they had received as a present, including a dog and a skateboard. “Now I feel like I have to read it,” the narrator grumps about their book gift. In subsequent spreads, they express their frustration. Sensitive bibliophiles beware: The narrator is ruthless in their scorn of giving books as presents. Some may tire of the message, repeated page after page in different ways: “Look, I’m a doer, not a reader,” one page reads, accompanied by an image of a muscled arm. The narrator makes references to clogging the toilet with homemade slime (“I told them it most definitely wasn’t me”)—a moment that will appeal to older kids who can grasp and revel in the humor. Human skin is shown as printer paper white, tan, and blue. Layouts are boisterous yet uncluttered, using text in various sizes, colors, and fonts. Pleasant near-pastel yellow, blue, and purple back up goofy illustrations, sure to draw interest even if the quips go over younger kids’ heads. Some elements, like the desire to receive X-ray vision as a present, will resonate widely with the target audience, though the story largely treads similar ground as Greenfield and Lowery’s I Don’t Want To Read This Book (2021). (This book was reviewed digitally.)

A potential gift for fans of the contributors’ earlier work. (Picture book. 5-8)

Pub Date: Oct. 18, 2022

ISBN: 978-0-593-46236-2

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Putnam

Review Posted Online: July 12, 2022

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 2022

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