What’s in the Satchel?

Frog’s Day Out (A Lift-the Flap Book, Tales from Acorn Wood) – written by Julia Donaldson, illustrated by Axel Scheffler
Scholastic, 2026

Frog’s Day Out combines the undeniable appeal of lift-the-flap books with the category of books about animals who live harmoniously in friendly villages (for example, here and here and here and here and here). It is a sturdy board book about a frog taking a trip to the seashore. Children are invited to look inside his satchel, as well as peeking into Cat’s hatbox. Excitement characterizes the atmosphere, as Frog, Cat, Dog, and other animal friends meet at the station and board a train.

When illustrators portray anthropomorphic animals, they choose how to balance their human and non-human qualities. Here, in the pictures by Alex Scheffler (accompanying the text by Julia Donaldson), Frog wears a Hawaiian shirt, making him appear perhaps the least self-conscious of the bunch. Hedgehog carries the biggest piece of luggage, a “holdall” which is similar to Mary Poppins’s carpetbag in size. It holds equipment for digging in the sand. Pig, not surprisingly, brings a picnic basket, but Beaver’s colorful beach ball is the least to his species’ activities. The train conductor is a bear, giving him the authority you might trust from an animal driving a train.

In reading lift-the-flap books with young children, you realize that the special feature is hard to duplicate. Eric Hill’s Spot series features both lift-the-flap and non-interactive stories. Toddlers may prefer the former, but, eventually they learn that the two kinds can coexist and both tell interesting stories. There is definitely a way in which lifting the flaps convinces readers that they are actually propelling the story forward.

When Frog emerges from the dressing room in his red-striped one-piece suit, it’s hard to disagree that “he does look smart.” It’s just what you would expect from Frog.

Ciao, Bella

My Roman Summer – by Bruna de Luca
Scholastic Press, 2026

Fiction that fits into a comfortable genre, including a romance where a potential conflict metamorphoses into love, needs to be elevated into to hold the reader’s interest.  My Roman Summer succeeds, with believable characters, a carefully placed plot, sensitivity, and humor. As in introduction, or affirmation, of Italian language and culture, it’s delightful. The scratch and sniff cover edition adds a lovely touch, (not the first time I”ve fallen for this gimmick), but if you need that to validate Livia Nardelli’s story, you aren’t paying attention. 

Livia lives in Scotland with her Italian immigrant parents. She sometimes wavers between two cultures, but this conflict is enriching, not defeating. (“Ma…apologizes to the border control officer for my British passport as if I’m a pineapple pizza she’s smuggled into Italy.”)  When Livia and her mother, Caterina, go to Rome for the summer to visit her grandmother, family issues and secrets surface, particularly in a thick atmosphere of hostility between Caterina and Livia’s grandmother, Nona Adelina (Nina).  Stubbornly attached to the bar (café) that has been owned by her family for years, Nina refuses to acknowledge that it is on the brink of financial collapse.  In the hospital with a broken leg, she argues with her daughter, and seems ambivalent about her visiting granddaughter.

Meanwhile, Giulio, a handsome young man who rides a Vespa, can seem to do no wrong, provoking Livia’s jealousy and confusion. He brings Nina, a surrogate grandmother to him, fresh pasta with Pecorino Romano cheese and black pepper, and humiliates Livia’s difficulty twisting it onto her fork, as any native Roman would know how to do.  Worse, Livia begins to suspect that Guilio may have nefarious intentions, possibly engineering the loss of the business that defines her life.  It seems as if a summer in Rome will send her racing back to Edinburgh with nothing but relief.

Enrolled against her will in Italian language classes to perfect her less-than-perfect Italian, Livia meets a supportive group of new friends, each with their own personal, or bureaucratic, reason for joining her in the school.  Aspiring chef, Ren, enlivens the failing bar with his eclectic dishes, including “seaweed Parmesan gougères…made with Japanese nori.”  Kenzi, from a Moroccan family, is fluent in both Arabic and Italian, but her parents are convinced that a certificate from the language classes will help her to obtain Italian citizenship.  Livia is not the only person who sometimes wonders, “if I don’t belong here, where do I belong?”

Giulio is incredibly handsome, and also sensitive and intelligent.  Livia’s attraction to him is at first conditional. He can’t be a villain, but how can she explain his communication with the predatory banker who hovers over the failing bar?  Bruna de Luca’s narrative expertise keeps the story from veering into cliché at every vulnerable point.  “Santo Cielo!” The twists and turns are precarious, but all roads lead to Rome, Edinburgh, and a satisfying conclusion.

Mixed Media, All Up to You

The Creative Playbook: 365 Activities to Supercharge Your Imagination – written and illustrated by Georgia Perry
Hardie Grant Books, 2026


I have many art books, drawing and painting guides, illustrated journals, and meditations on how to create (and I have reviewed some here and here and here and here).  Georgia Perry’s illustrated drawing book and journal with prompts is one of the best I have seen. Everyone’s priorities for this interactive genre may be quite different. The Creative Playbook is not a slim pocket volume to tuck into your cross-body bag. I have several of those and I use them all the time. But this is a 352- page hardcover with wonderful graphics and a design which is both gorgeous and practical.  There are images of blank pages, and cloud shapes meant to enclose the thoughts that you brainstorm. Fill-in-the-blanks are not juvenile exercises, although the book is perfect for young adults, and older middle-grade readers, as well as the grownups who are its intended audience.

Overall, the design is minimalist. There are suggestions, but plenty of blank space to experiment. The colors range from white and pastel to jewel and earth tones. Some exercises call for extended drawing and writing, while others, such as a photographed vending machine, invite a brief result. Swatches of color encourage you to think about matching them to your ideas, while other prompts are more fanciful. “If today had a texture, what would it feel like?: It does, and it might feel dramatically different at different encounters with that page. You will be asked to “open a book or magazine to a random page,” and rewrite a sentence to reverse its meaning. A request to open a book at random can never be a worthless idea! From the literary to the sensory, how about the plan to convert a memory into a fragrance? That would be inexhaustible.

If drawing, writing, painting, imagining, designing, fill you with joy, you need to get this book. At the end, there is an “about the author” and her dedication, “Thank you. To my parents, who encouraged creativity above all else.” Here is your chance to fulfill that role.

A Change of Season for the Acorn Villagers

A Cozy Summer Day – written and illustrated by Eliza Wheeler
Nancy Paulsen Books, 2026

The residents of Acorn Village, introduced in A Cozy Winter Day, are back, this time set to enjoy the summer. The snow is gone, as are the seasonal decorations and warmth-inducing foods.  While it may have seemed that winter defined this community, given the virtually instant sense of nostalgia that the coldest time of year produces, but the Hopps, McPaddys, Ms. Polly, and Hilda Hollow are adaptable. Snow books are a favorite genre of mine*.) The garden near their tree and mushroom-shaped houses is alive with vegetation. Herb the Rabbit is painting en plein air, the mother beaver is supervising Pip Hopp in the sandbox, and water activities in the brook or plastic wading pool are in full swing. It’s good to know that, regardless of the warmth and sunshine, an owl has still fallen asleep while reading a book.

As in the winter book, Eliza Wheeler’s text is simple, more focused on creating a mood than on plot development. She builds characters by giving them opportunities to express consistent personalities.  Ms. Polly, a porcupine, is not part of a nuclear family. Instead, she is benevolent figure who nurtures everyone, bringing her ice cream cart to a community picnic. The Popps have two dads, warmly accepted by everyone. The artistic Herb uses a wheelchair. The Otter kids, Leif and Pebble, live nearby, close enough to paddle over with an invitation to go for a swim. The water has the same quality of coziness as snow, although there is more emphasis on purpose-free leisure than in the earlier book. Summer is when the Acorn Villagers, like most people, have more extended time off from their normal, productive activities. Although they have certainly worked hard to cultivate that garden, and Polly churns her own ice cream.

The digitally-created pictures have plenty of bright color, with sunlight infusing every scene, until night falls.  Summer means camping. (image) The moon and stars are out as everyone brings blankets and lanterns, preparing for a restful sleep in simple tents.  The appeal of this kind of book, inhabited by personified animals, as in Richard Scarry’s Busytown (but see also here and here) is that the focus on setting and small details invites children to animate the story using their imagination.

*See here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here; phew!

Small, Hearty, and Transcendent

Eon: My Pet Tardigrade – written by Cybèle Young, illustrated by Cybèle Young and Nell Jocelyn
Tundra Books, 2026

This enthralling picture book has several potential audiences. It could be categorized as part of STEAM, since the tardigrade is an actual microscopic animal, one that can survive in an array of environments, and even emerge from a kind of dormant state called “tun,” essentially coming back to life. They are microscopic in size, and oddly resemble, at least in the opinion of some observers, tiny bears or pigs.  In addition to young scientists, the story of Eon, the pet tardigrade will appeal to readers who like miniatures, both real and fantastic, and form attachments to these special creatures endowed with fascinating qualities. Anyone, young or old, interested in outstanding picture book art, paper sculpture, and the combination of pencil drawing with collage-influenced composition, will love this book. 

A girl first encounters Eon, as she will name him, under the lens of a microscope. He peers from behind a microscopic plant. When his face is appears enlarged, he seems to have “two little eyes.” Unlike the other flora and fauna surrounding him, “he ambled and plodded like a bear.”  Soon the girl, rendered in graphite pencil, feels so strongly that she wishes she could hug this new pet; the white page bears bright red folded paper hearts, which are only a hint of the artistry to come.

Does the story of Eon and the girl resemble narratives about fairies? Yes, and it also forms part of the genre about nurturing an animal and then, selflessly, releasing it to the world where it can flourish, such as Love Is and A Fairy Friend by Claire Keane. In her revealing afterword, Cybèle Young explains how she first observed tardigrades, but also, how they became intertwined with her background creating miniature paper sculpture. When Nell Jocelyn, also an accomplished paper artist, became involved in this project, a fully formed narrative about curiosity, creativity, and attachment was realized.  Young also draws on her experiences as a mother and grandmother to trace both the emotional genesis and physical production of the book.

If you, or the children in your life, have ever designed meticulously scaled furniture and accessories for dolls, pets, or fairies, you will relate to Eon’s good  fortune. There are small dioramas with folded paper staircases, playful paper gears, erupting volcanoes, and fishing swimming through the sea. Recreation is available as the smallest paper circus, and a birthday picnic with seemingly edible delicacies must make Eon happy. There is a Ferris wheel, a folding chair, and a goose-necked lamp, all occupied by Eon. Each creation is exquisite, and together, the graphic composition of all the images is a seamless story.

Still, one day Eon ceases to thrive and goes to sleep. The girl gently sends him on his voyage to a more appropriate home. Maybe comfortable bedding and indoor lighting are not conducive to his survival. The process of creating these items is not pointless; it has its own intrinsic value, running parallel to the girl’s nurturing feelings and confidence in her achievement as an artist. If she and Eon are reunited, that will be wonderful.

A Crowded Nap

The Fluffy Futon – written and illustrated by Yuichi Kusano, translated from the Japanese by Cathy Hirano
Gecko Press, 2026

In Yuichi Kusano’s The Fluffy Futon, a grandmother takes a nap on the bedding of the title. What begins as a solitary rest soon becomes crowded with farm animals, who take up a great deal of physical space on the futon without disturbing the grandmother.  If the story is a fable, it is one without a simple and convenient moral. 

The pictures are quietly beautiful, and the grandmother is comforting. We never learn much about her, but we can infer some qualities from the simple text and subdued colors of the drawings.  As the story begins, she is airing the futon on the porch of her traditional Japanese home. The endpapers show her purposefully carrying the futon to the porch, with a smile on her face. She is followed by a parade of farm animals and a young boy, but it is not clear if she is aware of their presence or not. 

The first animal to arrive is a yawing cat, apparently ready for a rest.  The grandmother must be hardworking, as the house looks orderly from the outside. It is less certain why the cat is tired. The two-page spread positions three quarters of the futon on one page; it crosses the book’s gutter and is completed on the next page, along with the cat. White space surrounds the animal ,and its shadow is visible. The grandmother looks quizzically at the cat, but yawning is contagious. Soon she lies down and falls asleep. We don’t know if she is dreaming.

A mother hen and her chicks come along. Unlike the cat, they are a family. Then a pair arrive, a boy and his dog. A goat wearing a big, noisy, bell joins the nap, along with a pig and her piglets. Each page shows a different constellation of sleepers, moving and sharing their space. But the grandmother remains the central figure. She doesn’t need to assert her importance, but eventually her outstretched arms and relaxed body send the animals to the margins.

When the grandmother wakes up, her eyes still seeming half asleep, she pronounces that it has been a “lovely nap,” and that it is “time to get up.” The cat is still sleeping, but the grandmother must have more focused and productive labor in her tranquil home. In the last scene, the futon is the character, resting alone on the porch, with shoes neatly lined up below for anyone who wears them.

Meeting of the Minds in Jewish Authors Mural

I have reviewed many books from the British publisher, Green Bean Books.* Specializing in “original and inspiring Jewish stories for children,” their releases are most notable for an impressive range of authors and illustrators from different countries and backgrounds. When Green Bean Publisher Michael Leventhal conceived the idea for a mural as a memorial to his mother, Elizabeth Leventhal (Z”L), who died in 2023, reading was at the center of his vision. He explained the specific ideal of creating a children’s area in London’s Muswell Hill Synagogue, where his family worships, as a place that would evoke “the mental picture” of his mother reading to his young sons. His commitment to preserve both that moment and her legacy has found its perfect form, where the importance of reading becomes more than an abstract idea.

Literacy is nourished in families, as well as in the larger community. The Muswell Hill Murals, by acclaimed artist and Green Bean Illustrator Omer Hoffmann creates a lively scene of lively intergenerational reading in an imaginary library. (This is not a scene of quiet contemplation, but rather, in the Jewish tradition of discussion of debate, an homage to Jewish authors from as wide a range as possible.  Classic Yiddish authors I.L Peretz and Sholem Aleichem are there, as are foundational Israeli writers S.Y. Agnon and Hayim Nahman Bialik. The beloved American creator of the K’tonton series and What the Moon Brought, Sadie Rose Weilerstein, is joined by censorship-defying Judy Blume and unforgettable illustrator and author Amy Schwartz. There are British authors and artists and Americans, novelists and poets, some still writing and others now gone, but never forgotten.  Uri Shulevitz, Maurice Sendak, and Lore Segal, who kept working until the end of their lives, are joined by Jane Yolen, Ruth Behar, Richard Michelson, Joann Sfar, and others whose latest works are eagerly awaited by readers. If you are looking for H.A. and Margret Rey, creators of Curious George, and Sydney Taylor, whose All-of-a-Kind Family series revolutionized Jewish-themed books for children, they are all here.

There are also cameo appearances by Leventhal, Omer Hoffman himself, and the London designer, Carl Gilbert, who created the seating in the children’s area. Most important, Elizabeth Leventhal is present, reading to her grandson. Many of us remember parents, grandparents, and other adults who, by their generosity and love,  promoted the idea of finding refuge in books. The Hebrew expression, “L’dor Vador,” referring to the unbroken chain linking one generation to the next, is given concrete expression in the Muswell Hill Murals. A pamphlet with more details can be downloaded here.

*See, for example, here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here!

In Which Noodle Discovers Art

Twig Friends – written by Andrew McDonald, illustrated by Ben Wood
Bright Light (Hardie Grant Children’s Publishing), 2024

Twig Friends Go Wild – written by Andrew McDonald, illustrated by Ben Wood
Bright Light (Hardie Grant Children’s Publishing), 2025

I’ve already written about the two other volumes in the Twig Friends graphic novel series. The first book by Andrew McDonald and Ben Wood introduced the woody characters, Ziggy Twig, Noodle Twig, Red Twig, and the rounder and more pessimistic Stump, in their habitat, and here I review that book and a fourth book in the series  In Twig Friends, Red Twig states his sense of superiority because of his unusual red color, but his conviction is really only skin, or bark, deep.  When Red’s attempt to surprise Ziggy results in the near destruction of Ziggy’s snail zoo Red experiments with other surprises. He learns that surprises are just generally not appreciated, at least not when they involve sneaking, flinging, or otherwise interrupting important plans. However, the natural beauty of leaves turning color, or a generous gift of additional snails, will be welcome.

The theme of color continues when Noodle’s friends collaborate in helping her to create works of art. They brainstorm ideas for subjects, and Stump offers advice on finding natural pigments: green beans, red berries, yellow leaves. He even becomes a kind of stamp pad by dipping his round foundation in the paints and leaving an image on the ground. The pictures in this chapter have bright shades, reflecting the characters’ joy in learning that “there are no rules with ART. You can do whatever you want!” 

The title of Twig Friends Go Wild may seem redundant. After all, the first book had affirmed that “All twigs are wild,” a fact affirmed by every one of their adventures. Noodle’s absorption in art is an inspiration to Red, who, nevertheless, discovers that he needs to find his “OWN thing,” and that this journey involves frenetic flings between different potential interests. Knitting, boating, and board games, all seem like possibilities. A collision with Stump brings on the inevitable bout of Stump sadness, but Red is thrilled to learn that he has magical powers that can transform his friend’s mood.  Even if his superpowers turn out to be intermittent, his friend’s acceptance turns out to be more important than magic.  Red’s hyperkinetic need to fling himself into flight, like Stump’s sadness and Noodle’s creativity, are what make each one of them unique.

Remarkable Quest

The Magic Library of Waterfall Way – by Julie Abe
Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 2026

Imagine that you’re a child whose fate will be determined by your membership in one of the following categories: Extraordinarily Remarkable, Quite Remarkable, Slightly Remarkable, or Unremarkable. Of course, those harsh judgments often seem to be part of any childhood. In Julie Abe’s middle-grade novel, Lyra Hunt is an orphan on a quest. In order to avoid the dreaded fate of her status, she will need to find a guild that will accept her. As in many of the classical works of children’s literature that seem to have inspired the author, Lyra’s sensitive and bookish nature is paired with courage. With the help of mentors and friends, she will determine her fate.

Guild matchers are responsible for placing everyone in the Alterran Empire in their appropriate niche. With each child’s status unalterably decided by the age of one year, at a Prophecy Reveal event, there seems to be no escape from this rigid practice. Not surprisingly, high-status people seem to perpetuate their own privilege, as the Slightly Remarkable but utterly inept boy who is accepted into the Guild of Warriors when his parents make a donation. Lyra has no such option available. Her parents had been members of the now defunct Guild of Paperweights; even the lowly Guild of Pinecone Collectors rejects her.

This dismal scenario is rendered even more difficult by the constant propaganda emanating from the Guild of the Crown News, an official organ of the regime. Some chapter titles are derived from its lies, while others are countered by the truth. “Books must be protected at all costs. And I must protect those who will read them, too,” is The Chronicles of Lyra Hunt. Books matter, and so does having the courage to speak out and defy authority.

Sensory descriptions of the idyllic magical village where Lyra finds refuge enhance the narrative. (“From the bakery across the street, a whiff of freshly baked baguettes washed over us.”). Judicial use of magical elements also lends a cinematic touch, with inanimate objects assuming lifelike powers: “’The faucet’s upset. My apologies.’ When it noticed me, the water began to stream ominously.” Brief, but powerful, statements reinforce the source of Lyra’s strength, as when the generous and wise Gemini, Master of the Guild of Scholars, explains that books have been a key to her survival, especially in a world where “most prefer the, well, simplicity of the Guild of the Crown’s newspaper and books.”

By the end of the novel, Lyra and those who support her quest have subverted categories and gone some distance towards replacing acceptance with skepticism, both about official lies, and the sense of helplessness those lies are meant to engender.

Perishable, but Lasting

My Best Friend Is a Butternut Squash – written by Heather Smith, illustrated by Kass Reich
Tundra Books, 2026

It’s hard to see how the title of Heather Smith and Kass Reich’s new picture book could not be intriguing.  Is it literal, or a metaphor?  Children sometimes develop attachments to unusual toys, or, in psychological parlance, “transitional objects.”  In My Best Friend is a Butternut Squash, a boy named Alex adopts the vegetable of the title, and grants it personhood with crayons and imagination. Soon he is taking it out for walks in a stroller and identifying him, when asked, as a two-month-old baby.

Like a purely imaginary friend, the butternut squash can be a different age on different days. One day Alex cradles it in his arms; the next day they are twins, dressing alike and anticipating one another’s thoughts and words. Alex’s mom is really good-natured, even bestowing a kiss on this beloved companion. There is no limit to the possibilities for dramatic entertainment, including a “spectacular sword fight” that is completely harmless. Reich’s gouache and colored pencil drawings capture a child’s point of view, but they are also sophisticated, matching the expression on Alex’s face with that of his endlessly flexible friend, who can be a fairy, a pirate, or even a doctor. The doctor scenario has a bit of heartbreak.  Like all children, Alex experiences anxiety, answering the squash-doctor’s question about his symptoms with the troubling answer, “It’s my heart…Sometimes I think it’s shrinking.”  The squash wisely advises Alex not to worry, reassuring him that he has “a very big heart,” a quality the reader has already suspected about this sensitive boy.

The butternut squash has a backstory. His original home was Alex’s grandfather’s garden.  Maybe uprooting him has created problems that Alex had not suspected, like being excluded from games in the schoolyard. Other children don’t necessarily share Alex’s “big heart,” in accepting the inevitable square peg who won’t fit the round hole, especially if he is an item of produce in a human world.  When Alex meets Trudy, he learns that her special object is an old alarm clock, with the disturbingly personified accident of broken hands.  Then the other shoe drops, with Alex admitting that the butternut squash’s eventual fate is to be compost.  Uh oh.

Just when adults reading this charmingly idiosyncratic book with children might become concerned, the kids work it out.  Alex and Trudy find a solution to the transient nature of squashes, clocks, and maybe everything.  They defy convention and create their own universe of play, where art supplies and affection are more important than fitting in.