Author: Emily Schneider

Emily Schneider is a writer and educator living in New York City. She has published on children's literature, feminism, and politics in Tablet, The Foward, Jewcy, and Family Reading at The Horn Book. She is a regular reviewer for The Jewish Book Council.

They Strut By Night and Day

Cats in Jerusalem – written by Tammar Stein, illustrated by Menachem Halberstadt
Green Bean Books, 2026

If you would like to take a child on a short, but exciting, trip to Jerusalem, this board book by Tammar Stein and Menachem Halberstadt have a clowder of cats ready to accompany her.  In a square volume filled with bright colors and enthusiastic visitors,  the cats introduce some of the city’s highlights, from their own feline perspective.  At the book’s conclusion, there is an old-fashioned display of scenes stylized as  photos, identifying each landmark, with room for the cats to climb around and across.

Menachem Halberstadt’s illustrations (see reviews of other books here and here), are distinctively appealing. His characters are somewhat exaggerated and realistic at the same time. People’s facial expressions and bodily posture signal essential traits, and animals share this quality.  The cats in Jerusalem are just short of anthropomorphic, but there is no mistaking their sense of control and comfort in their home. 

Cats are not notably verbal, but Stein captures their actions in few words, while Halberstadt’s pictures allude to their motives. “Cats in Jerusalem peek,” moving through bushes beneath an imposing skyline. (Naturally, “they purr,” especially when kind residents or tourists pay attention to them. “They stretch” unselfconsciously at the Shrine of the Book and they chase a bird in front of Lion’s Gate, forming a distraction for the otherwise engaged family visiting the site.

On Ben Yehuda street,  where a brightly lit background changes to the reddish brown of sunset, the cats sing along with a Chasidic father and son playing the guitar and harmonica.  The cats look as absorbed in musical joy as the musicians.  Cats are confident creatures; as the tour closes,  they sit on a rooftop beneath the moon, satisfied in the day’s activities.  Stein summarizes their sense of accomplishment with the irrefutable statement, “they rule,” a phrase which they almost seem to be reading as they look out at the stars. Here is a novel way to visit Jerusalem.

More Than Dinosaurs

What Do People Do at the Science Museum – written by Maggie Tokuda-Hall, illustrated by Qin Leng
Chronicle Books, 2026

Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Qin Leng’s picture book introduction to science museums is outstanding.  There are many informative and nicely illustrated books on the subject, and at least one gentle parody worthy of the fiction of Borges (Grover and the Everything in the Whole Wide World Museum). What Do People Do at the Science Museum, as the title indicates, answers more than questions about dinosaurs, or other specific exhibits.  Covering the artifacts displayed, the scientists or study them, the specific museum professionals who select and them and design the exhibits, the book is truly comprehensive, as well as entertaining. 

The first page identifies the purpose of a science and natural history museum.  “It’s a good place for curious people to ask questions and learn.” Children, by definition, are curious, and adults who need to recapture the sense of wonder that children feel will be enthralled by this book. Qin Leng’s inimitable style (see my reviews of other books here and here and here and here) is perfect for capturing both careful details and human responses to experiences. The opening picture depicts a monumental building, inspiring awe at the prospect of entering, but also people in groups, pairs, and alone climbing steps in happy anticipation.

Every page is carefully composed; the abundance of information never becomes overwhelming because it is artfully integrated. There are text boxes of different sizes, word balloons, and multiple spheres of activity.  Before even venturing into the exhibits themselves, visitors, and readers, learn that structural engineers design museums to be best adapted to their purpose. A small text box presents a simple triangle as one basic unit of engineering.  Meanwhile, at the bottom of the page, a docent speaking to a school group uses the friendly analogy of building blocks to familiarize the student with the process of construction.

Maggie Tokuda-Hall is in tune with the way in which children think and express themselves, without using a patronizing tone see another example here).  A child indicates an interest in giraffes; why are their necks so long? A curator matches her enthusiasm with the response, “Brilliant! An exhibition about EVOLUTION would be marvelous.” “Marvelous” is used here in both its literal and figurative sense, since museums are intended to provoke marvel and, at the same time, demystify science. Those exciting dioramas need to be both accurate and appealing. Perhaps children have not connected the element of design to the presentation of different concepts, but they will learn here how to associate their own artistic projects with those on view.

Several kinds of science make appearances: geology, mineralogy, seismology, paleontology, and more. Each discipline is viewed individually and as part of a whole, crediting children with the ability to distinguish even subgroups within areas of study.  Looking at a scene of paleontologists absorbed in their task of examining a dinosaur skeleton, readers will also be introduced to the crucial distinctions between invertebrate paleontologists, micropaleontologists, and paleobotanists. When an author and illustrator operate from the assumption that children have both the interest and attention span to learn at this level, the result is this incredible foray into STEAM literacy.

n a busy lab with hands-on projects, children question the staff and are enabled to refine their knowledge of seemingly familiar subjects. No, dinosaurs do not arrive at the museum fully assembled. Assembling isolated parts may take many years, and collections managers engage in the crucial, ongoing, task of organizing acquisitions and ensuring they are kept in the right place. Leng’s children and adults are different in age, size, and experience, but they also share, on a visual level, the same space and the same dedication to knowledge.

Tokuda-Hall and Leng have written, drawn, engineered, and curated an amazing museum in book form.  Like an actual museum, visitors will want to return.

Toad’s Tough Choice

Toad on the Go – written and illustrated by Jashar Awan
Tundra Books, 2026

As I have observed before, it isn’t easy to write a children’s book that expresses a message without reducing a potential work of art to a didactic bore.  In Toad on the Go, Jashar Awan’s follow-up to Towed by Toad, the central character makes a terrible mistake that would seem to compromise his professional integrity.  Rushing to bring a vehicle with a flat tire to Pop’s Tire & Car Repair, Toad’s zeal to get the job done causes him to bang up another car and face an angry driver.  Awan doesn’t waste words.  “Everyone makes mistakes.  What comes next is your choice to make.”

The pictures and graphic design of the book recall both classic illustrations styles and animation.  The pace is as fast as the title implies, but without the forced zaniness that sometimes takes over when authors and illustrators seem over-eager to appeal to kids.  The big and black against white space, and states the premise immediately.  “Little ones.  Big ones.  Everyone makes mistakes.” Dangerous driving is actually one of the worst mistakes one can make, but in this case, since the consequence is a crushed car but no injuries, Awan is able to deliver his point.  Hesitant to take responsibility for his mistake turns Toad from a diligent tow truck operator to an arrogant and threatened amphibian. When he hears the narrator’s voice pointing out that “these things happen,” Toad’s answer doesn’t evoke much sympathy: “NOT TO ME!” He grips the wheel and narrows his eyes, daring the reader to recognize the formerly sweet rescuer into someone who believes he is better than the rest of us.

The economy of Awan’s style creates a cinematic series of frames, with each one presenting characters in a minimalist, but complete, portrait. His well-intentioned race sends him past other essential community members: Penny Pigeon the letter carrier, Bear of Bear Bros Moving Co, Red Belly’s tempting food truck. These other animals must also make mistakes, but they must be part of another story. Today, the focus is on Toad, whose anxious wait for the traffic light to change doesn’t prevent the collision. Every face registers a significant change. Winne Neigh-Nay the horse crosses her arms is fury at the sight of her damaged car. The food truck line customers turn around, point, and seem to forget about sandwiches. One animal picking up his mail seems oddly oblivious.  True to his name, Pop, the repair shop owner, is able to gently remind Toad of what matters, and that, at least most of the time, mistakes can be fixed with the turn of a wrench, and a little humility.

Endearing and Fun Creatures

Funjeepups: A Beautiful Song – written and illustrated by Michael Slack
Funjeepups: A Star Wish – written and illustrated by Michael Slack
Tundra Books, 2026

Three small creatures, named Dot, Button, and Dollop, live in the woods in relative harmony. Their adorable appearance is somewhere between a mushroom and an acorn, with pleasant human-like features. Urban life is totally foreign to them. When a problem arises, it is easily resolved. Like other children’s books with simplicity on the surface (for example this and this and this), there is some tension beneath. But here it is as easily addressed as children would hope, even if they suspect that sometimes an unexpected bird, or a cloudy night, are not the worst interruptions.

In Funjeepups: A Beautiful Song, the friends are about to enjoy their breakfast. When the bird shows up, they should hardly be surprised; they live in the woods. Nevertheless, although the bird’s song is beautiful, they just can’t leave well enough alone. They decide that the bird needs musical accompaniment and soon are lugging over a piano ingeniously created out of a log, as well as a flute, and extra berries. Then they need to curate a playlist. But the bird’s song seems to provoke some insecurity; their concert does not live up to their expectations. Maybe their song is so inadequate, that it is actually a “not-YET song.”

Trying to introduce philosophy in a children’s picture book risks turning an engaging story into a didactic exercise. That doesn’t happen here. Michael Slack strikes the right balance. When Button contemplates that “maybe beautiful thoughts make beautiful songs,” his idea doesn’t seem definitive. He’s just working through some doubts. There is a lot of background noise. When the bird alights on Dot’s drum, she is momentarily troubled. Eventually, they resolve the conflicts, and feel satisfied with the results.

A camping trip in Funjeepups: A Star Wish is filled with wonder. Away from civilization, or as close as their woodland home approaches that idea, they prepare to settle into their tent: “No huts. No beds. Just us outside all night.” Clouds that obscure the stars they hope to view are disappointing. No stars means no wishes. Wait, maybe a firefly could substitute for the invisible stars, creating the opportunity for a “bug wish.” There is more to anticipate, once the Funjeepups realize that the only thing they have to fear is fear itself.

The simplicity of the digital artwork is both appealing to children and consistent with the calm, Zen-like pronouncements of the characters. I could not help but notice a similarity to one of my favorite picture books about tiny creatures with inner lives, Vera Brosgol’s We Are the Little Guys. There doesn’t need to be a direct influence of one artist on another, since the concept of diminutive size and a sense of control or power are explored in so many classics. Funjeepups join in reassuring readers that a puzzling bird can suggest answers, and one form of light can stand in for another.

But, Seriously

This Book Is Seriously Silly – written and illustrated by Ben Clanton
Tundra Books, 2026

You may have originally met Narwhal and Jelly in their raucously funny graphic novels (see here and here) or in their board book. This Book Is Seriously Silly is Ben Clanton’s second picture book featuring the duo. Similar in premise to the other books, the picture books are not only accessible for younger readers, but, if anything, are a bit more irreverent.  Narwhal can puncture anything with his single horn, including here Jelly’s pretensions to serious content. 

Readers interact with Jelly from the first page, if not exactly in the way the character may have hope. After all, someone has changed the title of his book! He had intended to produce a serious work, and instead, it has been transformed into a series of jokes, cartoons, and subversive nonsense. His menacing stare, meant to intimidate the perpetrators, hasn’t worked. The stern warning, “No smiling,” seems laughable to readers.

Speaking of laughter, it’s strictly forbidden! Yet readers persist in defacing Jelly’s portrait with a moustache and clown ears, making obnoxious noises, and undermining the book’s aspirations. Jelly had posted a carefully composed list of serious subjects on his blackboard: “concrete, anchors, fossils, chess, formal wear.” With the last term emended to “underwear,” adults sharing the book with kids will understand Jelly’s frustration. If they miss the little clownfish beneath Jelly’s thinly disguised plea, “Fine. What do I care? You can clown around,” a brief explanation might be in order.

If you are missing Narwhal, he shows up near the end, holding a mirror up to his desperate friend. At first Jelly fails to recognize himself, but he finally concedes that he does look silly, at that silliness has its place. Go with your strong suit, Jelly.

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.