How To Draw a Strawberry

15 Minute Art Drawing: Learn How to Draw, Colour and Shade – written and illustrated by Jessica Smith
Hardie Grant Books, 2023

I have many books that teach aspiring artists how to draw, using different media.  Some are specifically designed for children, and others for adults.  Jessica Smith’s 15 Minute Art Drawing is beautifully adaptable for older children and young adults, even if those groups are not its exclusive audience.  Smith’s instructions are clear, her tone reassuring, and the illustrations’ simplicity and rich color are inspiring.  Creating images of a strawberry, a dalmatian, or a pattern of repeating stars are within reach of almost anyone.

Drawing can be frustrating, especially for children, or adults, who are concerned with making mistakes. If you have ever watched a child crumple up a piece of paper when results don’t match her expectations, you will appreciate the design of this book, where optimism and realism both guide the artist.  Two wonderful books for both children and adults that offer an overview of the artistic process are Elizabeth Haidle’s Drawing Is and Jeff Mack’s time To Make Art. For young children, the stories in Builder Mouse, by Sofia Eldarova, and Spaghetti: A Mouse and His Treasure, by Merrilees Brown, depict animal artists who are undaunted by obstacles.

The composition of Smith’s book, including the ratio of image to white space, is perfect. “Project 2: Citrus” starts with a freely sketched oval of color in primary and pastels, and moves toward a finished fruit.  Pens, markers, and pencils can all be part of the project; Smith offers specific suggestions, but oil pastels and watercolor would also work. Often she writes in the first person, advising, but not directing: “I used a blue pen here to add the shadow and I love how you can still see the color of the orange through it.” I love how she phrases that, expressing emotions about how rewarding it is to draw.

“Project 11: Leaves” could not be better for the artistically timid: “This simple project is nice and speedy, and uses only three steps!” Yet the resulting drawings look sophisticated and evocative. I can’t emphasize enough how difficult that is to achieve in an instructional art book.  Smith goal seems to be a genuine desire to enlist the reader’s enthusiasm. She manages to combine a sense of humility and enthusiasm about the results of her work, and, by extension, that of her readers.  Some of the other projects include a bowl of noodles, a house, a mermaid, and a woman dressed in “busy patterns and popping colours” and holding a grid-patterned shopping bag.  There are even two-page spreads of drawings that take a step back from the instructions and simply focus on beauty. The color reproduction is excellent.

The sum of an art book may be greater or less than its parts.  15 Minute Art Drawing lays out a premise, verbally and visually, and guarantees success within its terms.  The book begins with an autobiographical sketch and includes an overview of tools, materials, and the use of color.

What If I Never Fly?

Fly Like a Bird – written and illustrated by Olga Ptashnik
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

Breaking the mold may be a harsh-sounding metaphor for a children’s book about birds, which contains within itself a story of natural insecurity and a parent’s reassurance. Fly Like a Bird does actually break a mold in the “STEAM” books genre.  The text and the artwork, by Olga Ptashnik, are both wonderful.  Children, and adults, will also learn a lot about a wide range of birds.

A young chickadee expresses concern about the possibility that she will never accomplish the daunting task of learning to fly. Ptashnik captures the inner life a child with her words: “I can flap my wings, but I can’t fly. I’m just a tiny little bird…What if I never learn to fly?”

Right away, children will be drawn to the book’s tone and central idea. The question-and-answer format alternates black and blue font, as the parent answers with accessible information about different birds and their unique qualities. Digital artwork produces the colors of nature: green, gray, blue, black, red, in different shades.

Hummingbirds are tiny; how do they produce the intense vibrations that give them their names, and also find nectar to drink? Penguins can’t fly, but their speedy swimming more than compensates for this unusual difference. The young bird processes the information: “Oh, so they fly underwater! But is it possible to fly in both the water and air?”

The peregrine falcon images bring the reader to a more human-populated location, as they fly high above elegant buildings and swoop down with incredible speed.

Each picture is composed to invite focus on different aspects of the scene. A large falcon appears commanding, hovering over the rooftops.  A chain of apparently connected birds descends, and more distant birds appear smaller as they alight on structures and rise up further into the sky.  Ptashnik anthropomorphizes a bit more here, breaking the fourth wall. The young bird expresses feelings of vulnerability associated with humans: “…but I don’t want to hurt other birds! How can tiny birds like us protect ourselves from predators?”

A flock of starlings forms a “murmuration,” as “Thousands of birds stay synchronized without any conductor.” Again, the varying scale of the scene elements are a quiet drama.  On the ground, a person riding a bicycle appears very small. Above, the murmuration is a symphony in motion. I was reminded of the fish learning about solidarity in Leo Lionni’s Swimmy.

The book concludes with two pages summarizing the star players, from hummingbirds to black-capped chickadees.  Everyone eventually learns to fly, swim, swoop, and find nectar, when the time is right.

Invitation to a Voyage

Journey of the Humpbacks – written by Juliana Muñoz Toro, illustrated by Dipacho, translated from the Spanish by Lawrence Schimel
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

Although this fabulous informational book about humpback whales has not relation to Baudelaire’s poem, “L’invitation au voyage,” I could not help thinking of its title and famous refrain when I turned the first page.  The author states her purpose: “This is an invitation for us to go on a journey. We don’t need a backpack or shoes. Just our eyes wide open.” Every book fits this description. By framing the experience of reading this way, Juliana Muñoz Toro raises expectations and meets them. Baudelaire invites readers to encounter a world where “Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,/Luxe, calme et volupté,” (“There, there is nothing but order and beauty,/Richness, calm and beauty.”) Instead of dream world, Muñoz Toro, and illustrator Dipacho, extend an invitation to the natural order and beauty of the environment.  Science books for young readers need not omit a sense of wonder.

I won’t try to summarize the wealth of information in this book about the often misunderstood sea mammal, the humpback whale, otherwise known as Megaptera novaiangliae. Did you know that its Latin name means “giant-winged New Englanders?” Probably not, even though you may associate whales with New England, where this one was originally sighted by Europeans.  To orient you on your journey, Dipacho’s elegant graphics, paired with captions, text boxes, and color judiciously added to black-and-white.  Some of the questions even present the answer upside down, adding the sense of a game.  To help you envision scale, a parade of Emperor Penguins sits atop the huge creature, whose principal features are carefully labeled.

If you come to the book with some basic knowledge of humpback whales, you will still learn a great deal. Nothing is necessarily obvious, including the basic fact that every part of the environment is related to one another. “Nothing that happens in the water does so in isolation.”  “Lunch time” involves a nutrients provided by algae, sardines, and krill.

The pictures are meticulously accurate, but also personify the whales a bit, with their balletic movements that seem almost joyful.  Referring to the segments of their day as “nap time, “ “time for adventures,” and, of course, “time to breathe,” sets a tone of familiarity, but also awe: “The breathing of humpback whales is long and deliberate, as if they were meditating.” Note the phrase “as if.” 

When people appear, they are comically observant, watching the whales and taking notes of what they see. Here Dipacho presents richer colors than in the extensive factual scenes, as he brings humans into the picture.  They are important and provide perspective, but they don’t compromise the whales’ starring role. In fact, a wonderful two-page spread categorizing the baleen whale family (image) identifies the humpback, with a touch of humor, as “the protagonist of this book.”  Another concise and complete section on the whale’s reproductive life is, again, accurate and also performative.

Steps numbered in sequence give the facts and also allow the reader to draw her own conclusions. “She alone will take care of her offspring.” The “Have You Wondered” section reveals how a calf learns to identify its mother.  The book’s backmatter declares that it was created by “a team of people who love whales.” By this point, you will not have any doubt of that essential fact.

Not So Fragile

Broken – written and illustrated by X. Fang
Tundra Books, 2025

A picture book by X. Fang has an unmistakable identity (see my reviews here and here). The actual species of the mysterious visitors in We Are Definitely Human may be ambiguous, and the vivid dream imagery of Dim Sum Palace seamlessly transforms to the warmth of a family restaurant. Broken is about the unbreakable bond between a grandmother and her grandchild, and also the reassuring truth that many things that are broken can be repaired (grandparents being a constant presence in children’s books, as seen in my list at the beginning of this review). Maybe the new object will appear identical to the old one, or perhaps some small difference will be evidence that its importance is not compromised by a beautiful, jagged crack and some glue. The sturdy, rounded characters who populate Fang’s earlier books are back, but they are not repetitive. She has a specific visual interpretation of humanity and it is inimitable.

A little girl, Mei Mei, introduces the story with an invitation and an outright confession: “Let me tell you the story of the day I broke Ama’s cup.” A day at Ama’s house is full of unspoken comfort, but sometimes boredom. Thick dashes connect the girl’s activities, like a familiar board game.

Then it happens. Having made the conscious decision to frighten Ama’s cate, the girl bumps into a table and hurls the cup towards its trajectory. Not only does it break, but the damage results in three pieces. Appealing to young readers with a direct statement of her guilt, the girl futilely tries to escape her own fears. What if Ama’s unconditional love has conditions attached?

The girl’s senses become exaggerated. Her grandmother calls to her, maybe in anger. That may seem unlikely to an adult reader, but only her warm smile convinces Mei Mei that nothing fundamental has changed. Ama brings her some cake. Mei Mei has the opportunity to blame the broken cup on the hapless cat, but she can’t bring herself to be dishonest. A full page picture of the cat’s accusatory stare is the counterpoint to Mei Mei’s closed eyes behind her oversized glasses.

Overcome with anxiety, she hides in the closet, obviously a temporary solution. Fang even includes a helpful graphic of Mei Mei in silhouette profile, the truth emerging from her insides in arrows that turn into words of apology.

Mei does not only forgive her; she offers an explanation. Repairs make meaningful objects stronger. Each one tells a story. Ama takes on a new identity, as a “fixer,” in a series of portraits framed with old-fashioned photo corners. She is a super competent, and also compassionate, role model to her beloved and unique granddaughter.

Listen Carefully

Sound: Discovering the Vibrations We Hear – written and illustrated by Olga Fadeeva, translated from the Russian by Lena Traer
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

Imagine for a moment that you are about to pick up a children’s book explaining the physics of sound. How do we hear and transmit noises? Then being to page through it, noticing that the illustrations, in acrylic paint and water, would be worth the proverbial price of admission. Then, as you begin to read, you realize that the ambitions behind this project go way beyond the scope of what you had anticipated. Author and artist Olga Fadeeva has produced an information-rich picture book that moves among physics, biology, history both distant and recent, spoken and signed languages, culture from music to architecture, and technology. That list is still incomplete.

Sound requires careful attention and rewards it on every level.  Opening the book, we see a mother cradling a baby; this is the setting for how we first experience sound. Then, we enter a kitchen, the familiar setting for objects emitting noises, so ordinary that we might ignore them: a boiling teakettle, a clock, a phone, a pot of soup. There is no division between the informational and artistic components of this picture, or in any other section of the book.  Aware of how attention is naturally segmented, Fadeeva places her intriguing introductory premise in a rhombus that is actually in inside of an open window. The metaphor is perfect. A window is opening onto the meaning of sound.

Some pages use different sizes and colors of font, and have captions, as well as words that are sound effects framing the text. There are carefully employed graphics, such as a line indicating the intensity of decibels, or the organs of hearing and speaking labeled and described. The progression among topics is not frenetic; every idea is clearly linked to the ones preceding and following.  While Fadeeva cannot anticipate every question about sound, there are many common sources of wonder that are clarified. How do bats hear? What are some common birdcalls?  What is distinctive about underwater sounds?

There are other angles from which to explore sound and Fadeeva credits young readers with the curiosity to include them. She actively engages them with invitations to consider different contexts.  What was sound like in prehistory? How did the audience hear in the amphitheaters of the ancient world? (images). Medieval music makes an appearance, visualized with the excitement of charging knights and the lovely concert of flute, timbrel, bagpipe, and lute. Musical notation has its own pages. Even if children have never read music, they will be drawn in by the basic premise: “How can you write down music on a page – and turn it back into sound?” Glamorous performers and intricate pages of notes give the effect of collage. Pages on recording sound includes images of antique devices, and the question of “How do you fill the world with sound?” is followed by a concise but detailed answer superimposed on a dial telephone. Even the cord is covered with words.

The concluding endpapers feature brightly colored pictures and instructions for experiments.  Even after this incredible excursion into the world of sound, children may still want to fill a plastic bottle with buttons or beans, and create an orchestra.  Sound is an intricate and engaging performance for children and adult audiences.

Treasured Pasta

Spaghetti: A Mouse and His Treasure – written and illustrated by Merrilees Brown
Tundra Books, 2025

Collecting is a fantastic hobby, or maybe it is just an annoying compulsion.  One person’s desirable object is another person’s clutter. Author and artist Merrilees Brown transforms this truism into a wonderful story about Spaghetti, a creative mouse who “sees beauty and possibility in what others no longer want or need.” Named after one of his favorite media, this charming character is rendered in graphite, oil paint, print, humor, and affectionate details. 

Since mice have large families, Spaghetti has a rapt audience for his pencil stilts, cat face costume, and even his carefully composed box of cast-offs waiting to find a use. Yet other members of his clan are annoyed by his endless projects.  Mummy complains of the mess and Daddy makes the puzzling statement that “You have too much treasure”” as if that were possible.  Spaghetti responds with conviction, and even a hint of defiance, literally immersing himself in the multicolored materials he will bring to life.

Spaghetti recognizes that he has a problem, so he “puts on his thinking cap.” Children have the pleasure of seeing this expression visualized as one of the mouse’s creations. Crafts are sometimes distinguished from works of art by their usefulness, but this distinction can be permeable.  Spaghetti decides to emphasize the incredible properties of pasta, building something practical for everyone in his home.  Engineering meets art in his Calder-influenced amusement park. (There are other picture book mice with artistic sensibilities and kinetic skills; I’ve reviewed three of them here and here and here.)

Spaghetti’s self-assurance allows him to persist, even when others fail to recognize the importance of his vocations. At the same time, he is as flexible as a strand of spaghetti, letting young readers know that being true to oneself doesn’t require dismissing other viewpoints. Best of all, he succeeds in combining three different values: collecting, creativity, and love for his family.

Sisters You Won’t Forget

Stella & Marigold: Mermaids and Mix-Ups – written by. Annie Barrows, illustrated by Sophie Blackall
Chronicle Books, 2025

The second volume in Annie Barrows and Sophie Blackall’s series about an unforgettable pair of sisters continues their adventures, and the development of their relationship. Stella & Marigold established that their closeness, characterized by both unrelenting love and occasional friction, was as believably narrated as Beverly Cleary’s Ramona books (astute readers of my blog will recognize that its title derives from a quote in Ramona the Brave.) The outward similarities between the two series are not superficial, but rather are based on the way which both sets of books communicate how it feels to be a child, without a touch of condescension. Both also invite adults to identify with characters, whether by remembering their childhood or following along as Stella and Marigold’s parents, teachers, and grownup friends, who also propel the plot. (I reviewed the first Stella & Marigold book here.)

Each chapter may be read independently, but are interconnected. The book begins with a gift which the sisters receive from their Aunt Judy. Like many of her gifts, this one turns out to be a Trojan horse. A sparkly purple covered diary with high-pressure demand to record “Me and My Besties! Our Secrets, Our Faves, Our Fun!” sets Stella and Marigold on a series of attempts to find friends worthy to fill in the blanks. Even though this involves some distress, it eventually leads to an understanding of friendship and empathy, minus the high-stakes categories.

In “Snow, Snow, Snow!” Stella tries to win the friendship of a classmate by using mind control to ensure a snowstorm. When their teacher, Mr. Banagal, intends to dissuade the children by calling this “magical thinking,” Barrows reveals how differently adults and children sometimes interpret reality. His phrase has the opposite result. After all, what else could magical thinking be but “encouraging?” Adults will read this passage with recognition, but not a sense of superiority unless they don’t remember what it felt like to fruitfully “misinterpret” adult’s language. Barrows does employ a little bit of gentle humor at adults’ expense when Teacher Kaitlin carefully avoids direct praise of Marigold’s artwork, instead focusing on one quality:

“Wow, your picture is so detailed”…She always said things like that. Never, “Your picture is great…the best I ever saw.”

Blackall’s pictures feature her ability to convey a character’s feelings with slight alterations of their features. (I reviewed another of her books here.) A range of crayon-box colors, and careful composition of images against white background, give every page of the book its own impact. Stella and Marigold sit across from one another at a table, as they collaborate on coping with the diary. Marigold desperately tries to get her father’s attention when he is absorbed in his work; his temporary rejection leaves her curled into a question mark, embodying her feelings about why his priorities would be so misplaced.

There are so many series about girls and their friendships; many of these are terrific. Stella & Marigold fits securely into the category of classic.

A Bridge to Somewhere

Late Today – written by Jungyoon Huh, illustrated by Myungae Lee, translated from the Korean by Aerin Park
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

The opening endpapers of Late Today show an overcast sky. The following two pages feature the consequence, a bridge accompanied by the warning that “Morning rush hour traffic is congested all over Seoul,” with the report’s words alternating in word of the report alternating in level relative to the image.  The title page shows an adorable kitten with golden brown eyes that match the lid of the carton which has become her bed. Readers join the traffic jam and the rescue mission.

Jungyoon Huh’s minimalist text (ably translated by Aerin Park) conveys just exactly the amount of information needed.  Myungae Lee’s illustrations, rendered in colored pencils and oil pastels, combine black and white scenes, graphic novel panels, and earth and jewel tones against white background. They are beautiful in their simplicity, but also convey motion, sense impressions, and the imminent threat of losing a kitten on a traffic-clogged bridge.  The black font ranges in size, with some pages reminding me of the lettering used in Margaret Wise Brown and Leonard Weisgard’s The Noisy Book, and sequels. (The Winter Noisy Book is illustrated by Charles G. Shaw.)

Public transportation passengers, each in isolation, express their own thoughts about the danger, and their appropriate response to the kitten’s plight.  Parents and caregivers sharing the book with children will want to discuss all the implications of these natural, but possibly inadequate, emotions: “Why is no one helping out,” “Too heartbreaking to see. I’ll just look away,” and Oh no…what should I do?” One incredible two-page spread is a bird’s eye view of the vehicles, each one inadvertently threatening the tiny kitten weaving between them. The text is enclosed in a rectangle similar in size to the vehicles themselves, the words visualizing the ominous situation.

Cinematic techniques dedicate to full pages to a darkening storm, and another two to pelting raindrops.  Readers pause and take a deep breath. Then, a driver rescues the kitten, his or her hands cradling the animal in a gesture of human kindness. Someone has intervened at exactly the right moment. The cars and buses move. Everyone is relieved.  Being late is sometimes exactly right.

The Year Is a Circle

Lights at Night – written by Tasha Hilderman, illustrated by Maggie Zeng
Tundra Books 2025

There are two families observing the rhythms of the year in Lights at Night. One is human and the other canine, specifically foxes.  Dream-like images with changing shades of color include realistic details, both natural and cultural.  Children experience the wonder, but also the reassurance, of the four seasons and their special features, from football in autumn to storms in spring. While the fox family does not kindle holiday lights around the time of the winter solstice, they also appear to respond to the changes.  Tasha Hilderman’s soothing poetic text complements Maggie Zeng’s visual immersion in the excitement of one year. Children find joy, not boredom, in the repetition of familiar events.

A powerful storm is just unsettling enough to make the shelter of home more of a comfort.  Crayon drawn strikes of lightening emanate from a house, enclosed in a photograph, and also cross its border.  Inside, a strong of lights and beds configured as tents add the sense of drama that children like. Note the plush fox in a small sleeping bag. The fox family lacks the domestic props, but is just as attuned to the environmental changes. Of course, animals’ lives are more closely defined by the seasons. In spring, “new babies arrive with the stars.”

Campfires come in summer; riding the bus to school and harvesting wheat are tied to autumn. One of my favorite images in the book is a natural and unobtrusive celebration of multicultural holidays.  Christmas trees, Diwali lights, a Muslim family welcoming visitors, and a Kwanzaa lamp grace the neighborhood, along with a Jewish family’s observance of Chanukah. If you look closely, you will see that the correctly depicted nine branch chanukiyah (menorah) has its candle farthest to the left partly obscured by the window frame.  This is not an error, just a small visual element lending authenticity to the way in which someone placed the lights, which must be visible from the outside.

At the end of the book, the two children share an album and a box of crayons. The volume is open to the photo with lightning, enhanced by the children’s artwork. The actual fox looks up the moon.

The Other Side of Trouble

Trouble Dog: From Shelter Dog to Conservation Hero – written by Carol A. Foote, illustrated by Larry Day
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

There is a lot of action in Trouble Dog. There is also an abundance of information, a likeable main human character, and a surprising amount of humor.  Carol A. Foote has combined two real-life conservation dogs into one fictional hybrid named Tucker.  Caught in a cycle of adoption and rejection, he is always returned to the animal shelter that has given up on placing him. Then, along comes Laura, a classic heroine who refuses to give up on an unlikely pet who has driven everyone else to distraction. Larry Day’s pictures are full of action and color, setting a motion Laura and Tucker’s journey from trouble to success.

The opening end papers introduce Tucker in some typically frenetic canine activity. Then it escalates, as every home the shelter finds for him is subjected to chaos.  Tucker manages to overturn an aquarium and books in one place. He grabs a girl’s sweater and won’t let go. A man attempting to read his newspaper looks enraged as Tucker grabs it and leaves a litter of overturned items in his wake.  When we next see him, Tucker is a lonely prisoner in a cage, “watching everyone pass him by.”

Laura is a sturdy figure with a ponytail, flannel shirt, and jeans.  She is as no-nonsense as Mary Poppins, and she also intuits something about Tucker that everyone has missed. His energy can be put to good use.  Even though her home is quickly as disordered as every other place Tucker has been, she has a vision and the practical sense to implement it.  Dogs, as readers learn in Foote’s detailed backmatter, have a highly developed sense of smell.  Laura observes Tucker carefully and evaluates his routine and abilities.  She isn’t just kind and patient, but methodical, as well. 

Eventually Tucker gets a job, or a series of jobs. The details in the text are embedded in words as colorful as the pictures. “Tucker’s first job was to find rosy wolf snails in Hawaii.” (image). He travels the world, sniffing out “moon bears in China, mountain lions in Chile, and elephants in the jungles of Myanmar” in a narrative as exciting as one by Jules Verne, but rooted in the truth.  In a two-page spread, Tucker crosses the gutter between pages. An elephant marches ahead of him, dwarfing the dog in size, but not in energy.  Three researchers form a determined row in the background, to his left.  The image captures the cooperation necessary for Tucker to succeed in helping scientists to learn about species in need of protection.

Not every outing produces results easily. In Zambia, Laura’s optimism is tested, looking for cheetah scat and coming up short.  When Laura insists that “I trust Tucker,” who finally leads them to the right location, she is not relying only on her affection for the dog. Through hard work and astute decisions, she and Tucker have become a team.

Four pages of additional information and photographs are organized in a question-and-answer format, giving the bigger picture of how conservation animals, as well as other service animals, provide essential services.  A selected bibliography is accompanied by an oval portrait of Laura and Tucker relaxing at home. I hope that no one misses one title, by Alexandra Horowitz, Inside of a Dog: Young Readers Edition: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know. Just parenthetically, the title refers to the famous quip usually attributed to Groucho Marx: “Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.”  It’s definitely not too dark to read inside this book.