(1) PS Mina is a mouse, her nose always in a book, who lives "in her own little world where nothing ever bothered her." Her busy father brings home things he collects from the outside world, and one day he tells Mina that he has a big surprise. The page-turn reveals a massive cat, staring morosely at them. "It's a squirrel!" he declares. Forsythe's understated humor effectively conveys Mina's dilemma: when she can't sleep, her father tells her there's nothing to worry about, but looming over them both and taking up nearly every inch of their home is the cat, watching with narrowed eyes. They all manage to get along (and the cat gets a sweater!), but when a doctor visits the ailing pet--who has by now been joined by others--and names it as the feline it is, the cats pounce. (Not to worry.) Mina, much like the protagonist of Forsythe's Pokko and the Drum (rev. 1/20), is whip-smart and patiently suffers a well-intentioned but hapless parent. The illustrations are also reminiscent of Pokko with their velvety textures; palette of beautiful coppers, crimsons, and forest greens; and warm glow that emanates from nearly every spread. More, please, of Forsythe's richly imagined forest worlds.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2022

(2) PS "The biggest mistake Pokko's parents ever made was giving her a drum," begins this story about a young frog musician's path to creative fulfillment, benevolent (mostly) leadership, and satisfying self-expression. After that attention-grabbing opening line, the well-paced text builds anticipatory humor by backing up to describe earlier gifts Pokko's parents regretted: a slingshot, a llama, and a balloon, all shown in uncluttered spreads featuring the game but poker-faced Pokko. Then comes the drum: Pokko's face lights up and she reaches toward her instrument, her now-constant companion. She practices inside the house; her parents send her out. She goes to the forest, where her playing attracts a banjo-strumming raccoon, a trumpet-blowing rabbit, and more; soon she's trailed by a parade of like-minded, music-making creatures (minus the rabbit, who gets eaten by a wolf: "No more eating band members or you're out of the band," deadpans Pokko). There are lots of visual nods and references in Forsythe's textured, painterly watercolor, gouache, and colored-pencil illustrations--Rousseau, Sendak, Lobel, Ungerer, Keats, Klassen--but, like his amphibian protagonist, this idiosyncratic author/illustrator/animator (The Brilliant Deep, rev. 7/18; Warning: Do Not Open This Book!; the Adventure Time television series) marches to his own beat.

Reviewer: Elissa Gershowitz | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2020