STUBBY

A pencil’s origin story, as told by itself.

“You aren’t going to believe this, but when I was little, I was actually very big.” So begins the autobiography of Stubby, a cedar tree–turned–short yellow pencil who has googly eyes, a couple of teeth, and a good feel for storytelling (“It all started in a forest”). Mallery’s offering is more than an educational book that plays like an adventure story (one machine “cut me from my roots”; another “skimmed off my branches”). After Stubby winds up in a classroom, having been purchased from a store as part of a boxed-pencil 10-pack, the book becomes one writing implement’s improbably affecting search for a permanent user. Stubby weathers much classroom drama (“I rolled under Felix Johnson’s desk”; “Cherry snatched me and sharpened me”) until the pencil finally finds a child who is loyal. Hare’s digitally futzed-with art—originally created with, yes, a pencil—features tidy lines and a cheery palette dominated by blues, greens, and yellows. The illustrator effectively relies on panels to instill order in a book that covers a lot of ground. Young readers will likely pore over a two-page spread that shows Stubby going through a transformation at a pencil factory (“Look out! More glue!”), and the final page contains a twist unlikely to be foreseen by readers of any age. Human characters vary in skin tone.

Richer and more moving than a story narrated by a pencil has a right to be.