Review - A is for Apricat

A is for Apricat (Little Concepts)
by Mauro Gatti
Date: 2019
Publisher: Walter Foster Jr.
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 28
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

Learn the ABCs through cute, quirky mash-ups of animals and food, from Apricat to Zebrussels Sprout!

A is for Apricat is a fun, creative way for kids to learn their ABCs. Combining photos of fresh fruits and vegetables with cute illustrations of animals, illustrator Mauro Gatti has created a whole new kind of critter! The Apricat has the round, fuzzy body of a real apricot, with the adorable whiskers and face of a kitten. And the Turkale may have the head and neck of a turkey, but its body is fresh and green.

Each page features a letter with a new fruit or vegetable creature, paired with simple text to help kids learn the letter, the animal, and the food. A food facts page at the back explains the health benefits of each featured food with playful, kid-geared language.

Promoting healthy eating and imaginative thinking, this unique, lighthearted take on a basic concept will be enjoyed by kids and parents alike.

The Little Concepts series helps young readers learn their ABCs with adorable illustrations featuring unique animals, colors, languages, and even healthy foods. From A to Z, learning the alphabet (even in Spanish and French!) has never been so surprising and engaging.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

I'm a little bit confused as to who the audience for this book is supposed to be. A is for Apricat is a clever alphabet book that combines animals with foods. Are toddlers learning their ABCs really going to "get" the Kangaroot (kangaroo/turmeric root hybrid) or the Narwhanilla (narwhal/vanilla bean hybrid)? Some mashups, like the Apricat and Flamango, have the potential to reinforce the wrong spelling in kids who are just learning.

I like the inclusion at the back of the list of all the foods that are pictured. Still, I don't know if toddlers are going to care about antioxidants and the digestive health properties of various fruits and vegetables. Adults will likely find this book more entertaining than kids because of its pun-like nature. The problem is, to understand jokes like this, you need to understand the concepts they're derived from... and I'm not sure if the audience for an alphabet book has that understanding yet.

Thank you to NetGalley and Walter Foster Jr. for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 2/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 4/5
Illustrations: 4/5
Originality: 4/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3.33 out of 5

Review - Red Yellow Blue

Red Yellow Blue
by Lysa Mullady
illustrated by Laurent Simon
Date: 2019
Publisher: Magination Press
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 32
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

Red loves being red! Apples, wagons, fire trucks -- he thinks all the best things are red! Yellow admires Red's roses, but Red just wants to be left to mind his own business -- why can't Yellow mind hers?

But when Yellow and Blue go off to make frogs, shamrocks, and caterpillars, Red realizes that he may be missing out. The possibilities are endless when the colors work together!

Includes a Note to Parents and Caregivers with more information on encouraging empathy and cooperation.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

This is a fairly decent story about cooperation, kindness, and saying you're sorry.

Red is so caught up in the wonderfulness of being red that he barely acknowledges the other primary colours, Yellow and Blue. So, while he's admiring all things red all by himself, Yellow and Blue work happily together to create green things. Eventually, though, Red gets lonely. He realizes he needs to apologize for what he said to Yellow. Yellow forgives him, and the three colours work together to create something beautiful.

I don't really have a problem with the story or the illustrations. Both are simple, but effective. What kind of brought down the overall enjoyment of the book for me was the inclusion of the Note to Parents and Caregivers at the end. I realize now that Magination Press is an arm of the American Psychological Association, which may be why there's such a long-winded note (it's two-and-a-half pages in tiny print). Still, I don't like these notes in picture books as a general rule, especially when they go about explaining what the story is supposed to mean. If that's not evident from the story itself, explaining it to adults in a note at the end isn't really going to help. In addition, this note rambles on about self-esteem, finding purpose in putting your clothes in the hamper, and a strange notion of forgiveness:

Simply put, we forgive others so that they will forgive us when we make mistakes.

That's very simplistic, not at all realistic, and a rather selfish way of looking at what should be a generous concept. I can just see children demanding forgiveness from their parents with a cry of, "You have to forgive me for killing the hamster! I forgave you for forgetting to put the fruit snacks in my lunch bag!" This tit-for-tat mentality might work for toddlers, but since the note emphasizes teaching children skills that will help them as they grow, this statement is kind of puzzling.

Anyway, aside from the note (which is unnecessary), this is a fairly well-written story about three colours who learn that their value in working together is just as important as their value as individuals. It also teaches a little bit about colour theory, although that could've been taken a little further (we never do learn what happens when Red and Blue work together).

Thank you to NetGalley and Magination Press for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 3/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 4/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 4/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3.33 out of 5

Review - The Escape Manual for Introverts

The Escape Manual for Introverts
by Katie Vaz
Date: 2019
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing
Reading level: A
Book type: comic collection
Pages: 144
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

Feeling cornered at a wedding reception by gossipy guests? Stuck at a holiday party that lasts forever? This beautifully illustrated book is the ultimate funny, sometimes absurd guide to escaping those painfully awkward situations.

Trapped in an airplane seated next to a chatterbox? Are you hosting a dinner party with people who just won't leave? Katie Vaz has the key to your escape. The Escape Manual for Introverts guides readers through different scenarios with themed chapters ("Friends," "Relatives," "Strangers," etc.). Each chapter covers a range of situations, from an invitation to karaoke night to group lunchtime. And she offers a number of escapes for each scenario: bringing odoriferous foods to lunch for a while, having a pet (real or imagined) that "requires" frequent check-ins, and even investing in a jet pack. This book features Vaz's full-page illustrated spreads, hand-lettering, and spot illustrations. From the silly to the sincere, Vaz's clever, hilarious escape plans and bizarre excuses speak to the introvert in all of us.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

This book should've been right up my alley. I'm an introvert. It can take me days to "recover" from a big social event. I need my alone time, and my peace and quiet. Unfortunately, The Escape Manual for Introverts doesn't seem to be talking about introverts at all, but rather people with antisocial personality disorder. Perhaps a more appropriate title would be The Guide to Lying for Misanthropes.

Yes, I understand that some of these suggestions are tongue-in-cheek and not to be taken seriously. But those aren't the ones I have a problem with. It's not cool to divulge spoilers around the water cooler just because you don't feel like talking to people. It's not cool to bring a stinky lunch to work or eat masses of garlic before a plane ride because you want to be left alone. It's not cool to turn on noisy power equipment just because you can't handle a five-second conversation with your next-door neighbour. The lack of concern for others displayed in this book smacks of some sort of personality disorder, and it really gave me the willies.

The rest of the suggestions are repetitive and/or unnecessary. Don't feel like talking to a proprietor at a craft fair? The book's solution: Buy something cheap so you can make a quick escape. (The common-sense solution: Don't go to craft fairs!) Don't want to talk with the Jehovah's Witness on your doorstep on Saturday morning? The book's solution: Grab your jacket, make up an excuse, and run. (The common-sense solution: Don't open the door.) The book makes everything seem way harder than it needs to be. News flash: It's not that hard. The elaborate "escape" suggestions are rather ridiculous, and the book gives the overall impression that introverts are rude loners who don't like anyone. In fact, as I finished this book, I wondered why such a thing would even be necessary; someone as rude, disrespectful, antisocial, and deceitful (because, let's face it, this is a book all about how to lie) as The Escape Manual for Introverts describes wouldn't have to worry about invitations at all. Who'd want to hang around with someone who's apparently constantly trying to figure out how to manipulate the situation for their own comfort at the expense of others'?

I'm not a fan of the illustration style here, either, so the pictures can't redeem the book for me. I'm afraid this just isn't my thing. I may be an introvert, but I like to think I'm more considerate of others than this book paints us as being.

Thank you to NetGalley and Andrews McMeel Publishing for providing a digital ARC.

Writing & Editing: 2/5
Illustration: 2/5
Originality: 2/5

Enjoyment: 0/5

Overall Rating: 1.2 out of 5 ladybugs

Review - My Big, Dumb, Invisible Dragon

My Big, Dumb, Invisible Dragon
by Angie Lucas
illustrated by Birgitta Sif
Date: 2019
Publisher: Sounds True
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 32
Format: e-book
Source: library

An illustrated picture book for children dealing with grief, showing that although loss is hard and real, together we can move through it to find joy and hope again.

When a young boy unexpectedly loses his mother, an invisible dragon swoops in and perches on top of his head. The boy wants the dragon to go away, but the dragon has plans of its own. It follows him to school, sleeps on his chest at night, and even crashes his birthday party. Yet as the boy comes to terms with his loss, his relationship with the dragon changes in surprising ways.

My Big, Dumb, Invisible Dragon is an important book for children dealing with loss. Whether it is the death of a parent or loved one, divorce, a move, illness, or losing a friendship, this story shows children that loss is real and hard, but we can move through it. Young readers learn that healing takes time, and that it’s okay to experience a range of emotions when processing a really big loss.

Filled with poignant yet playful illustrations and touches of humor, the book tackles a weighty subject in an easy and approachable way. For any child who’s lost someone they love, My Big, Dumb, Invisible Dragon is a tale of healing and hope.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

After reading a number of picture books using metaphors to talk about emotions, I've come to the conclusion that this is something that's really hard to get right. Often, the stories are confusing, convoluted, age-inappropriate, or internally inconsistent. My Big, Dumb, Invisible Dragon, however, is a book that gets it right. By personifying dragonifying grief, the book demystifies the grieving process for children.

When a boy suddenly loses his mother, the dragon--complete with his funky purple boots--shows up. And he won't leave. He sits on the boy's head when he's trying to get through the school day. He lies on the boy's chest when he's trying to sleep. And he even shows up on happy occasions like playdates and birthdays. The boy learns to deal with the dragon as best he can. After a while, though, something strange begins to happen. The dragon doesn't spend all his time with the boy. Sometimes he's gone for a few hours. Sometimes he's gone for a whole weekend! And the boy realizes that, as time passes (and as he gets older), the dragon seems to be getting smaller. While it'll never go away, it can become much more manageable.

I like the message here about having compassion for others' grief as well. Talking and sharing are important, as is being a good friend. I really like how the book manages to talk about such a serious, potentially depressing subject and not have it seem too heavy. Anyone who's dealt with grief of any sort will be able to relate to the boy and his bothersome dragon who weighs him down and just won't leave.

Highly recommended to readers looking for books about emotions, and especially those searching out kid-friendly books about dealing with grief. It's one of the best books dealing with tough emotions that I've seen so far.

Quotable moment:

Premise: 5/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 4/5
Illustrations: 4/5
Originality: 5/5

Enjoyment: 5/5

Overall: 4.67 out of 5

Review - If I Were A Robot

If I Were A Robot
by Scott Gordon
illustrated by DepositPhotos.com
Date: 2012
Publisher: S. E. Gordon
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 54
Format: e-book
Source: Amazon.ca

Have you ever dreamed of being a robot? What would you do? How would you do it? And most importantly, what would you create with your newfound powers?

Find out what a young boy discovers when he visits the land of dreams, and builds his own vision of the future. From the author of My Little Pet Dragon, My Crazy Pet Frog and Ninja Robot Repairmen. Over 40 pages in all.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

I love how the synopsis declares, "Over 40 pages in all!" As if quantity is the important thing here.

That attitude shows in this slapdash "story" about a boy imagining what he would do if he were a robot. The first part is boring, but not terrible. He'd have a suit of armour and fancy weapons so he could fend off pirates and the Evil Overlord's army (whoever they are). He'd have a secret workshop and design rockets to reach distant worlds. He'd even build himself a robot dog for company. But then, in the latter half of the story, things get weird and existential. Suddenly, the narrative switches to almost all dialogue, and we get to read a conversation between a disembodied voice that echoes "into eternity" and the boy (who's now a rusty old robot stuck on a planet all by himself). The boy decides he doesn't want to be a robot and joins his father for dinner.

Because this book is put together with stock imagery from various illustrators, it has no cohesive style. There are plenty of pictures similar to what we see on the cover... but also plastic-looking 3D-rendered humans, random sparkles on a gradient background, paintings of rusty robots, pictures of planets, Dalí-esque imagery, and computer-generated sci-fi landscapes. The book looks like it's having an identity crisis.

This author is certainly prolific, and while I'm sure his own kids probably enjoy his attempts at picture-book writing, I don't think these titles are really suitable for public consumption. This is actually the second book I've read by this author, and I'm probably less impressed with this one than I was with the first. I'm just glad I picked this one up as a freebie; I'd be really annoyed right now, otherwise!

Premise: 1/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 1/5
Illustrations: 2/5
Originality: 1/5

Enjoyment: 0/5

Overall: 0.83 out of 5

Review - Redwood and Ponytail

Redwood and Ponytail
by K. A. Holt
Date: 2019
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Reading level: MG
Book type: verse novel
Pages: 424
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

Told in verse in two voices, with a chorus of fellow students, this is a story of two girls, opposites in many ways, who are drawn to each other; Kate appears to be a stereotypical cheerleader with a sleek ponytail and a perfectly polished persona, Tam is tall, athletic and frequently mistaken for a boy, but their deepening friendship inevitably changes and reveals them in ways they did not anticipate.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

WARNING: Minor Spoilers! To read this review with the spoilers hidden, check it out on Goodreads.

It's been a while since I read a book this long. But, being that this is a novel in verse, it reads fairly quickly.

Redwood and Ponytail is the story of two middle-school girls and their discovering of their sexuality. I enjoyed most of this story, but there are a couple of things that prevented me from really liking the book.

First, there's the issue of the audience not quite matching the writing. I can see how the author was in a tricky place here. This is supposed to be about two girls discovering they like girls. It's more likely for this to happen in middle school than in high school. However, the girls just don't read like 11- and 12-year-olds. Their internal thoughts are too adult, too poetic, and too wise. I kept having to remind myself that I was reading about young teenagers. One of the secondary characters, Becca, actually sounded more her age for most of the book (until the end when she started sounding overly mature, just like all the others). I'm not really sure if there's a way to fix this mismatch. Set the book in high school, and readers will wonder why Kate and Tam didn't realize they were gay earlier. Keep it in middle school, and readers will wonder why they speak like adult poets. It's a no-win situation.

Second, and probably far more problematic, is the fact that one character publicly outs another. Based on the acknowledgments, it appears that the author herself is gay... and so I would've expected this to be handled better. Now, I'm not gay myself, but even I know that it's a huge no-no to out another person. I just don't think this part of the story was satisfactorily addressed. Sure, in this case, it moved the plot along, and perhaps the person being outed wasn't that bothered by it. But, in not addressing the violation, it sort of condones the action; I'd worry that kids (because that's the intended audience) might think it's okay to out each other in front of the rest of their peers.

Some stuff I do like about this book are the switching points of view (even though there are places where the author breaks her own established convention in the formatting, which was a bit confusing), as well as the inclusion of the "chorus". This almost seems Shakespearean, with classmates Alex, Alyx, and Alexx sharing their observations on the drama going down between Tam and Kate.

And there is plenty of drama, driven by the colourful cast of characters. There's Kate's mom, an utterly superficial woman who seems to care more about her kitchen renovation than her daughter's happiness. There's Tam's mom, who's pretty much the opposite, almost smothering in her well-meaning attempts to be cool and relatable. There are Kate's cheerleading squad and her estranged sister. There are Tam's quirky neighbours and her best friend, Levi. All of these secondary characters, as well as the leads, drive the narrative forward, sometimes in interesting ways. I do kind of wish the storyline with Jill, Kate's sister, had a little more to it; that was one thread that sort of fizzled out when I thought it might be going somewhere more interesting.

I think, perhaps, I'm not the audience for this. I'm not sure how the poetic language is going to play with the intended audience (middle-school girls), but if they can get something out of the story, that's great. I just wish the issue of outing gay friends had been better dealt with; that part alone makes me hesitant to recommend this one overall.

Thank you to NetGalley and Chronicle Books for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 3/5
Plot: 3/5
Characters: 3/5
Pace: 3/5
Writing: 3/5
Editing: 3/5
Originality: 3/5
Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall Rating: 3 out of 5 ladybugs

Review - Anna and the Tooth Fairy

Anna and the Tooth Fairy
by Maureen Wright
illustrated by Anna Chernyshova
Date: 2017
Publisher: Two Lions
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 36
Format: e-book
Source: Amazon.ca

Anna has a loose tooth—and the Tooth Fairy will be coming to visit soon! As Anna’s excitement grows, she realizes that Sophie, her baby sister, must be a Tooth Fairy in training. Sophie is always up at night, her rattle looks just like a magic wand, and she’s even learning to fly! So Anna begins to teach her little sister all the skills she’ll need to be the best Tooth Fairy ever. But what will happen when Sophie is no longer in training? Will she go away? It’s up to the big sister to make sure that never happens!

Maureen Wright’s charming text and Anna Chernyshova’s adorable artwork combine in this sweet story of sibling friendship.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

In Anna and the Tooth Fairy, a little girl becomes convinced that her baby sister is training to be a Tooth Fairy. But she's worried because it means her sister will have to leave and won't be able to play with her anymore. So the girl tries various methods to prevent her tooth from falling out. Eventually, she's reassured by her mother that her little sister isn't going to go anywhere.

I'm not sure if the mom realized why Anna was so worried. Anna tells her mother only that, if she loses her tooth, Sophie will have to go away. The mom simply reassures her that the baby isn't going anywhere; she probably just thinks her kid got a weird cause-and-effect thought in her head for some reason. Nowhere does Anna explain to her parents that she thinks the baby is a future Tooth Fairy. I kind of wish she had, because that could've been a good opportunity to teach kids about clearly communicating their feelings when they're worried about something.

The illustrations are really cute, and aside from a strange continuity hiccup in the beginning, they follow the story rather well. I like the colourful, cartoon-like style. There's something almost retro about them, too, which I find kind of appealing.

Overall, this is a decent story about a little girl's assumptions. It's amusing enough, and although I didn't love it, I can see it having appeal to kids (especially ones who are at the tooth-losing age).

Premise: 3/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 4/5
Originality: 4/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3.33 out of 5