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I DO NOT LIKE YOLANDA

This offbeat, intergenerational story celebrates connection.

Bianca loves to write letters.

The young letter-writer carefully crafts illustrated missives for a Sri Lankan pen pal, a friend in Uganda, a Maine uncle, and two grandmas. But much as this kid likes writing letters, they don’t like postal worker Yolanda. Bianca fears her “scaly talons” (long, manicured red nails) and says: “I think she’d like to eat me up one day. She has probably eaten up dozens of people by now.” One day, Bianca has five letters to mail and walks (alone) to the post office through a bustling San Francisco neighborhood, gathering as much luck as possible along the way. But when Bianca gets to the counter, Yolanda has a surprise in store with the unlikely announcement that she “just served one of the most delightful meals that anyone has ever prepared.” The postal worker proceeds to tell Bianca about the special meal, based on that first detailed in Isak Dinesen’s short story “Babette’s Feast.” Yolanda is now transformed in Bianca’s imagination. The delightful, soft line-and-color illustrations show a diverse contemporary California community; Bianca and Yolanda themselves both have pale skin and dark hair. Bianca’s engaging letters are also pictured. Even though “Babette’s Feast” has little if any natural resonance with the audience, the way Bianca’s dislike turns into curiosity is thought-provoking. Young readers will get caught up in the illustrations, and the idiosyncratic friendship may grow on them. (This book was reviewed digitally with 11-by-17-inch double-page spreads viewed at 33.7% of actual size.) This offbeat, intergenerational story celebrates connection. (Picture book. 6-8)

Pub Date: March 16, 2021

ISBN: 978-0-7352-6651-3

Page Count: 44

Publisher: Tundra Books

Review Posted Online: Jan. 12, 2021

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2021

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FIELD TRIP TO THE MOON

From the Field Trip Adventures series

A close encounter of the best kind.

Left behind when the space bus departs, a child discovers that the moon isn’t as lifeless as it looks.

While the rest of the space-suited class follows the teacher like ducklings, one laggard carrying crayons and a sketchbook sits down to draw our home planet floating overhead, falls asleep, and wakes to see the bus zooming off. The bright yellow bus, the gaggle of playful field-trippers, and even the dull gray boulders strewn over the equally dull gray lunar surface have a rounded solidity suggestive of Plasticine models in Hare’s wordless but cinematic scenes…as do the rubbery, one-eyed, dull gray creatures (think: those stress-busting dolls with ears that pop out when squeezed) that emerge from the regolith. The mutual shock lasts but a moment before the lunarians eagerly grab the proffered crayons to brighten the bland gray setting with silly designs. The creatures dive into the dust when the bus swoops back down but pop up to exchange goodbye waves with the errant child, who turns out to be an olive-skinned kid with a mop of brown hair last seen drawing one of their new friends with the one crayon—gray, of course—left in the box. Body language is expressive enough in this debut outing to make a verbal narrative superfluous.

A close encounter of the best kind. (Picture book. 6-8)

Pub Date: May 14, 2019

ISBN: 978-0-8234-4253-9

Page Count: 40

Publisher: Margaret Ferguson/Holiday House

Review Posted Online: Feb. 5, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

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WE ARE GROWING!

From the Elephant & Piggie Like Reading! series

Amusing, yes. Useful for reading practice, yes, but not necessarily guaranteed to make new readers the “read-i-est.” (Early...

Elephant and Piggie make an appearance to introduce the first in their new series, an egalitarian introduction to superlatives.

Each one of seven blades of talking grass—of a total of eight—discovers that it is superb at something: it’s tallest, curliest, silliest, and so forth. The humor aims to appeal to a broad spectrum. It is slightly disturbing that one being eaten by purple bugs is proud of being the crunchiest, but that will certainly appeal to a slice of the audience. The eighth blade of grass is grappling with a philosophical identity crisis; its name is Walt, a sly reference to Whitman's Leaves of Grass that will go right over the heads of beginning readers but may amuse astute parents or teachers. Tension builds with the approach of a lawn mower; the blades of grass lose their unique features when they are trimmed to equal heights. Mercifully, they are chopped off right above the eyes and can continue their silly banter. Departing from the image of a Whitman-esque free spirit, Walt now discovers he is the neatest. Lots of speech bubbles, repetition, and clear layout make this entry a useful addition to lessons on adjectives and superlatives while delivering a not-so-subtle message that everyone is good at something. Elephant and Piggie's final assertion that “this book is the FUNNIEST” doesn't necessarily make it so, however.

Amusing, yes. Useful for reading practice, yes, but not necessarily guaranteed to make new readers the “read-i-est.” (Early reader. 6-8)

Pub Date: Sept. 20, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-4847-2635-8

Page Count: 64

Publisher: Hyperion

Review Posted Online: June 21, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2016

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