(2) PS Illustrated by Ivan Bates. Mamma Duck is leading her ducklings to the lily pond, and little Puck, with his downy feathers and tiny feet, always seems to fall behind. When Mamma encourages him forward ("Keep up, Duck!"), Puck first hops on a paddle boat to catch up, then a skateboard, bicycle, and others. The text has a gentle rhythm and uses a lot of onomatopoeia ("Whizz! and Whirr! went all the wheels. Whizz! Whizz! Whirr! Whoooo!"), perfect for reading aloud. The watercolor and colored-pencil illustrations make beautiful use of delicate lines, subtle textures, and pastel colors, particularly the gradations of blue and green that abound in the water and the landscape surrounding it. The spreads are at once peaceful and full of motion, particularly with Puck, who is a pop of sunny yellow that jumps off each page, leaving confused creatures and mild chaos in his wake. In the end, Puck winds up ahead of his family and gets to shout, "Keep up, Mamma!" On a wordless page, Puck quivers with joy in his accomplishment, and when the family is reunited, Mamma has the good grace not to look irritated. Humorous and charming.

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2024

(2) PS "Emma was a large dog with many small dreams." She dreams about her favorite things, such as rolling in the grass and splashing in water. In Cooper's (most recently Yes & No, rev. 5/21) cheerful black-outlined watercolors, Emma's dreams are pictured as small bluish-gray dogs frolicking vision-like above her. When not dreaming, Emma sometimes worries or feels all alone, and sometimes "her whole body [feels] strange." Readers may wonder if our protagonist is sick or elderly, but -- surprise! -- one day, out from Emma's body emerges a tiny puppy, arriving headfirst into the world. Big Emma (literally "full of wonders") hasn't been thinking back to her frisky puppyhood, but rather ahead to her future, very-active puppies. Re-reading is a treat: audiences will now see that lumpy Emma is obviously pregnant, her "favorite things" are her soon-to-be-born pups, and her growing dreams are her seven growing babies. Once again, small dogs cavort around Emma, this time, brown-and-tan like mom and solid as can be. Cooper's small line drawings of a plump Emma adorn the book's opening endpapers while chubby puppies romp about on the closing ones. There's much to appreciate in this story about a gentle giant of a dog whose "dreams came true."

Reviewer: Jennifer M. Brabander | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(2) K-3 The title page of this adventure features both a unicorn and a rainbow, but things quickly shift from cutesy to a more absurd and sidelong tone. The unnamed teeny-weeny unicorn is the smallest member of his family. This is obviously a relatable condition for the potential reader or listener, but this unicorn really is small -- about the size of a chess piece, too small to jump over a taco. His siblings, Fancy Annie and Prince Butterscotch, are condescending and mean. But size is relative, and when our hero inadvertently steps on and squishes the sports car belonging to an even tinier, tough-talking gnome (who then demands a settlement of $250,000), he realizes that in gnome terms he's a giant. The debt gets sorted out, but even better, the teeny-weeny unicorn gets a day alone at his family's palace home playing games by himself -- and the realization that he's a perfect size just as he is. The illustrations, in oil pastel, feature a dynamic relationship between text and images and hefty lashings of pink. Harris (Have You Ever Seen a Flower?, rev. 7/21) again uses the smearing potential of pastels to great effect in showing the teeny protagonist accelerating from walking to trotting to cantering to galloping. This original take on unicorn life and troubles elicits a wry grin on every page.

Reviewer: Sarah Ellis | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2024

(2) PS Illustrated by Erin Stead. Big Bear and Little Bear enjoy a summer idyll. It starts with a joyous declaration from Big Bear -- "I'm just in the mood for fishing" -- that [cf2just encapsulates a child's immersive enthusiasm. The two bears get dressed, find their poles, bake blueberry scones (of course; as Big Bear observes, "Fishermen need nice, warm blueberry scones"), and pack a storybook. These preparations traverse several beautifully orchestrated page-turns, each new necessity building listeners' anticipation. Big Bear's warm confidence coaxes Little Bear past some apprehension at the dock; in the boat at last, they "dip their poles" and wait, nibbling scones and reading stories until a fish finally appears, then swims away, leaving Big Bear and Little Bear to retreat contentedly to their hammock. Stead's delicate pencil and watercolor paintings depict beguiling details -- Big Bear's bunny slippers, the honeybees on the wallpaper, the echinacea in bloom -- without ever distracting from the total delight these bears have in each other. In their gently hairy bulk and the tender tilts of their heads, they recall Sendak's Little Bear and his mother. The text is equally gentle in its phrasing. Dialogue is set in italics rather than enclosed in quotation marks; pre-readers may not notice, but the unusual typographical choice will draw the attention of adults and older children to the warm, brown letters and the creamy negative space. It's hard to imagine a nicer day than this.

Reviewer: Vicky Smith | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(2) PS A blond-haired child narrates their weekly Sunday trip into town with Dad. Hunt follows the child's point of view throughout the story, leading to some dynamic perspectives in the book's double-page-spread illustrations. For instance, the pair walks hand in hand until the busyness of town makes the child "feel really small," dramatically conveyed in the art by imposing, elongated adult figures towering above them. The narrator's request "to go up high" is followed by a wordless closeup of Dad -- with his scruffy beard and big, tattooed arms -- settling the child on his shoulders. This elevated viewpoint brings the exciting sensation of feeling big, tall, and able to fly. The duo strolls through a quiet park and then pauses for lunch, and the child, now down from their perch, notices animals: "little things. Tiny things. Things that make me feel like a giant." A new take on size leads to appreciation of and confidence in who they are (à la the young protagonist in Crews's I'm Not Small, rev. 3/22). Hunt's brightly colored illustrations, full of expressive lines and textures, reflect the child's positive experience. Equally affirming is the love and care on display between father and child -- even when interests temporarily diverge (e.g., Dad talks too long to someone, looks at boring hardware). A sweet hug ends this satisfying outing.

Reviewer: Cynthia K. Ritter | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Matthew Cordell. A mouse with nautical aspirations realizes her dream. Wee Mabel gazes with longing at the cunning model ship fashioned by the man who lives in the lakeside cabin where she makes her home. It is the man's "prized possession," the product of many months of painstaking labor; he is so possessive that he won't even let the boy who lives with him touch it. Then one blustery night the cabin door is blown open and Mabel gets her chance. Using a mouse-sized block and tackle and some tiny logs as rollers, she lowers the boat and pushes it into the water to sail it all night long. When the man panics at the ship's loss but then sees it under sail with Mabel at the helm, man, boy, and mouse are united in awe and glee. Jonker taps into many children's delight in miniatures; they will thrill along with Mabel at her adventure. Cordell's scratchy ink and wash illustrations have a faded look, their sepias and pale blues giving the tale an old-timey feel that a gooseneck desk lamp only slightly diminishes. Mabel and the boy each wear a knitted watch cap, hers a pale red and his blue; when he lifts her in his hand at the end of the story, they smile at each other, fast friends. The illustrations mix full-bleed spreads with vignettes; the latter are framed in knotted rope. Sweet wish fulfillment.

Reviewer: Vicky Smith | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(1) K-3 In three illustrated stories translated from Japanese, Miyakoshi introduces readers to the delightfully mundane life of the titular Little Shrew, a rodent with a daily schedule, a steady paycheck, and a Rubik's Cube. Illustrated front-matter depicts close-up views of twee interior decor (push-pinned memorabilia, a tiny notebook with a shrew-sized pencil), drawing readers into the cozy world of the protagonist. The first chapter begins with Little Shrew's daily alarm clock and ends with his reasonable bedtime; straightforward, matter-of-fact language and soft, hazy illustrations paint a day in the shrew's life, one ordinary moment at a time. The following chapters, wherein Little Shrew makes a big purchase, discovers a new dream, and hosts guests for soup and singing, feature more story, but only very slightly; the one true moment of tension arrives when a page-turn reveals that -- spoiler alert -- Little Shrew solved his Rubik's Cube. Miyakoshi's heavily textured pencil, charcoal, and gouache art is atmospheric and full of eye-catching detail that provides a rich counterpoint to the spare text. Skillfully composed images capture the oddness of the tiny rodent's existence in a human-sized world, while frequent soft-edged, rounded vignette scenes feel intimate and dreamy. Little Shrew himself is fuzzy, measured, and prone to staring (somewhat unnervingly) at readers as they look back. Equally uncanny and endearing, this is a strange slice of an extraordinary and fascinating tiny life.

Reviewer: Jessica Tackett MacDonald | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(2) PS Illustrated by Erin Kraan. Tracy and Kraan provide humorous (faux) insight into the thoughts of one of nature's more formidable creatures: the brown bear. Our protagonist begins the story's narration with reassurances that, rather than being ferocious, "I am friendly. I've been thoughtful my whole life." But despite good intentions, the bear's repeated attempts to assist other forest creatures just cause chaos, often because the other animals are terrified at the bear's intimidating presence. Disorder also results from the bear's strength; for instance, vigorously scratching one's back on a signpost can rearrange the signs and prevent future travelers from reaching their destinations. Even more amusingly, the protagonist is completely oblivious to all the tumult (or, in the case of the signpost, "fixes" it in a way that doesn't help). Cartoonish illustrations enhance the plot and humor using varied compositions, from full-bleed spreads to sequential vignettes and panels. At the book's end, the bear, tuckered out from a long day of helping others, addresses readers directly with a "bear hug" -- which looks scary, but readers and listeners can draw their own conclusions.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(1) PS Big, bigger, or downright astronomical -- it's all relative in Willems's latest concept book. On the first page, a round-headed, stick-limbed child smiles at the reader; text opposite asks, "Are you big?" Sitting in the middle of the square, solid-colored page, the kid looks plenty large. Then, a bespectacled hot air balloon arrives, dwarfing the perplexed child; the hot air balloon is big until an oversized cloud rolls in. Each previously big figure is bumped down the line and shrinks down to barely visible specks when truly colossal celestial entities enter the scene: the moon is big and the sun bigger, but wait until you meet the star Pollux or the M100 galaxy! The same gag repeats with each and every page-turn; appealing collage-style illustrations, oversized typography, and a just-right touch of escalating absurdity keep the joke feeling fresh throughout. Careful, clever utilization of relative size and composition allows Willems to capture the magnitude of his subject matter within a petite trim size, and back matter offers numerical comparisons for readers curious to know almost exactly how many "average kids" could fit inside a galaxy cluster. This is a playful introduction to the importance of perspective that brings big laughs.

Reviewer: Jessica Tackett MacDonald | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2024

(2) K-3 Neighbors Mouse and Giraffe interact every day but have trouble getting along because they cannot see eye to eye (literally and figuratively). Giraffe complains of the heat; Mouse's experience is different: "It's quite comfortable." The uncluttered illustrations make clear that Mouse benefits from the shade cast by Giraffe's tall body, but the two characters don't have that visual perspective. "'Hot!' said Giraffe. 'Not!' said Mouse." On a night with low cloud cover, Mouse can't see the sky, but long-necked Giraffe can rise above the clouds to admire the moon and stars. With a light touch, DiPucchio's entertaining tale addresses themes of perspective and the biases that can come with personal experience. In a satisfying ending, the two neighbors acknowledge their differences with friendly overtures. Corace's distinctive illustrations of a stylish giraffe (check out his madras Bermuda shorts) and a mouse with outsized ears provide the right genial tone.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2023

(1) K-3 As Harrison writes in her author's note, "In childhood, big is good. Big is impressive, aspirational. But somewhere along the way, the world begins to tell us something different: That big is bad. That being big is undesirable." Words matter, as a beautiful little Black girl learns. The girl, a dancer who wears a leotard and tutu throughout the book, "grew and learned and laughed...and grew and grew and grew. And it was good...until it wasn't." When she accidentally gets stuck in the baby swing on the school playground, her classmates and even her teacher hurl hurtful words and laughter, which begin to affect the youngster's self-esteem and self-perception. The text is spare but pointed; Harrison's emotionally powerful, pink-hued illustrations focus on her protagonist's inner experience. The girl looks like a giant in school and at dance class, "exposed, judged, yet invisible." The openness of the illustrations gives way to more cramped and overwhelming compositions as the girl, now in blue-gray, feels increasingly hemmed in by others' judgments--a visible statement about the impact of fatphobia and the adultification of Black children. This girl's story ends triumphantly; she takes her teacher's and classmates' hateful words and hands them back, saying, "These are yours. They hurt me." This book offers readers an opportunity to remember that we all deserve love and respect--no matter what size we are.

Reviewer: Monique Harris | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(2) PS "There are big things and little things in the world." Here Henkes meditates on the world and our place in it. There are tiny things (kittens, ladybugs, flowers), and there are enormous things (the sea, the sun, the moon). "Most of the things are in-between. Like you. And me." At heart, this is a concept book about size, but also perspective. Short declarative sentences sit alongside spare ink and watercolor illustrations contained in panels on spreads with ample white space. Encased in the square trim size that has become Henkes's trademark, the complexity of existence becomes something even a three- or four-year-old can consider. One image shows huge ocean waves, but a few pages later we see that a child can hold some of the ocean water in their hands. A kitten sits in a small child's lap on one page; a few pages later, the same kitten basks in the light of the sun, one of the largest objects a child can see. Henkes's strength is in the poetry of the everyday and finding the profound in ordinary moments, and that strength is on full display in a book that is simultaneously soothing and mind-blowing. "Everything is in the world." Shelve this somewhere between concept and philosophy--and get it into kids' hands.

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2023

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Jam Dong. Readers follow every step of the (fictional) container ship Carolina, which is carrying freight from a port in Asia to delivery in the Netherlands. Carolina acts as narrator, initially providing details about the process of docking and loading, while informative cutaway illustrations display the diverse cargo. Dong's clear, flat, geometrical digital illustrations also illuminate size. The massive ship dwarfs a pair of large baleen whales swimming by; readers turn the page and see the ship alone on the ocean--"a drop of color / on a canvas of blue." As the ship rounds the coast of India, personification becomes more pronounced as once "lonely" vessels assemble in the Suez Canal. But the canal is blocked, and Carolina must divert its path, weathering a fierce storm off the Cape of Good Hope before continuing north through the Atlantic. Arriving in Amsterdam, the unloading begins: "Trade is flowing, the world keeps going. But oceans away, new ports await." An outline map clearly shows Carolina's route, and readers can return to it noting specific points of the journey, such as where the ship meets rough weather. A wealth of back matter, most aimed at an older audience, includes notes about trade and containerization; a glossary; potential related jobs; various additional facts; and internet resources, including an activity guide on buoyancy. An audience-appropriate seek-and-find activity completes the book.

Reviewer: Betty Carter | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(2) K-3 Stories of tiny beings navigating their large surroundings have long populated children's literature. Here, a simple sketch of a bird on a scrap of white paper explores an all-too-big world in the home of a young family. Her stark-white two-dimensional form stands out against the (impressively realistic) three-dimensional child's bedroom where she lives. A self-proclaimed artist, the "rather shy" creature ventures through the family's house when creativity calls for it. After conversing with a familiar wall outlet, Lonely Bird hefts the pages of a coffee table book--since "books are a great place to start" for inspiration--before collecting tiny items for her artistic projects. After stumbling upon a "visitor" (a crumpled paper remnant), she lovingly transforms it into a six-legged lizard of sorts: at last, a companion! The pair faces near peril against a vacuum cleaner, and Lonely Bird must venture into the "monster's" belly to rescue her new friend before repairing it and rehoming it upon the child's drawing desk. The shy bird seems content in proximity with those she admires; she may be alone, but she hardly seems lonely. Whiting delivers a subdued, evocative, quirky, and oddly endearing tale that invites us to look creatively at the smallest things in another light.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(1) K-3 Chin follows his acclaimed Your Place in the Universe (rev. 11/20) with an equally stellar exploration of the tiniest components of matter conceptualized by science. The book opens with a brown-skinned child who uses a wheelchair visiting a Southwestern desert. The United States' smallest bird, butterfly, and bee, in turn, alight on her finger, in close-ups that ultimately zoom in to a hair on that finger and put in motion a journey inward to the "building blocks" of biology and physical science. The expedition moves from skin cells to molecules, then to atoms, protons, and elementary particles. Each page-turn, ending in suspenseful sentence breaks ("But the cell nucleus is gigantic compared to... / ...everything else inside the cell"), takes readers to the next step inward. Chin's stunning watercolor and gouache illustrations, colorfully detailed and scientifically accurate, employ perspective to draw readers into observations of life and matter within the smallest possible spaces. The back matter adds details to the text's brief definitions and delineates where the art departs from settled science (in color and spatial relationships). The main text ends philosophically: we are all made of "the same stuff as everything else in the universe," and yet each of us is a "singular person, who can think and feel and discover... / ...the universe within."

Reviewer: Danielle J. Ford | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2023

(1) PS A child greets the day with excitement, eager to go play outside. Mom and Dad, sipping coffee, encourage the child's exploratory instincts: "Go ahead...you're a big kid now." Exclamation points follow ("I am big! I am going outside on my own!"), but once out the door, the youngster feels--and looks, in the vast illustration featuring tall trees and open skies--very small. There's a moment of uncertain hesitation, but then the family dog runs up, bringing companionship and confidence. Subsequent encounters with diminutive creatures (cat, bunny, birds, insects) remind the child that big and small are relative; that it's possible to be both at once; and, in a warmhearted twist ending, that each has its own merits. Crews (The Neighborhood Sing-Along, rev. 5/11; A Girl like Me, rev. 1/20), known for her unique photo-illustrated style, plays with the medium in art that is "digitally drawn and collaged...incorporating photographs and textures created by the artist." The characters are illustrated (not photographed) with subdued hues and patterns and subtle collage elements throughout. The adventure is little but the emotions loom large--and are completely relatable for all viewers, big or small.

Reviewer: Elissa Gershowitz | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(2) PS Illustrated by Penelope Dullaghan. It's the day before Christmas, and Bunny is searching for the perfect tree, one that is just her size. Along the way she meets various friends who each add a different request, sending Bunny farther and farther from home. Suspense builds as listeners wonder if Bunny will ever find the sought-after tree, while repetition in the text (each friend asks, "What are you looking for?") will support new readers. The narrative is poetic and rhythmic, with occasional ear-pleasing alliteration. Illustrations in a muted, wintry palette nicely complement the story.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2022

(2) PS So much can happen in the span of a week: "On Monday I found a polar bear in the garden." A single-page illustration features a large, round bear with a friendly demeanor whose white fur and black nose contrast starkly with a bright red background. The following double-page spread provides more context and visual details. This bear is so small it fits in the child narrator's hands, and the child is eager to help: "Are you lost, little bear?" By Tuesday, the bear has grown bigger and is now pocket-sized. The child decides on Wednesday to bring the bear (now in a hat) back to its home, and the two set sail on a journey that takes the rest of the week. By Sunday, the bear is too big for the boat, so the child sits on its back as they approach an icy shore where other polar bears are waiting. The colorful, playful paintings with their soft textures exude a sense of calm, and the shifts in visual perspective from far away to close up to high above boost the sense of adventure. After a final day of play, the child must part with the now enormous bear, but with a hopeful closing, "Goodbye, little bear, goodbye. See you again soon." This gentle separation story subtly weaves in concepts of size comparison and days of the week and should resonate even with young toddlers, who likely will not want to say goodbye to this cuddly-looking bear, either.

Reviewer: Julie Roach | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Rowboat Watkins. Over-the-top writing meets equally over-the-top illustrations in this tongue-in-cheek tale featuring "the tiniest king...Cedric, King ME the First" (a possible relative of Lloyd-Jones's His Royal Highness, King Baby, rev. 11/17). From his absurd handlebar mustache to his delusions of grandeur, the self-absorbed and self-conscious Tiny Cedric is more cartoonish caricature than credible royal. To make himself feel "all big and tall, and NOT SMALL," Tiny Cedric banishes from the palace everyone taller than himself. His brash action leaves the tiny tyrant without adult workers--and with a castle full of babies. Hilarity ensues across a series of spot-art sequences after Tiny Cedric hires the little ones, culminating in an impressively chaotic spread featuring a botched rescue by the "Baby Fire Brigade." Not until Tiny Cedric is forced to perform a few simple caring acts for the babies does he see past his own insecurities and open his heart to others. The mixed-media illustrations have a handmade, tactile quality, featuring colorful watercolor washes and a pleasing, wobbly pencil line. Additional storytelling is packed into the highly detailed illustrations--from sardonic articles seen in Tiny Cedric's personal newspaper (The Daily Me) to a meta-cameo of this very book in the bedtime-story pile. While a modern political analog to Tiny Cedric may be obvious to more savvy readers, the overall message of general fairness and mutual respect, delivered through humor and whimsy, remains timeless.

Reviewer: Patrick Gall | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(2) PS Illustrated by Kate Hindley. Gertie, "the littlest yak of them all," wishes she were bigger. She tries eating veggies; she tries exercise; she tries reading "to make her thoughts grow." Nothing works. But when another yak needs rescuing from a precariously narrow ledge, well, you can guess whose qualities come in handy. (Being the "grippiest" doesn't hurt, either.) This iteration of the difference-is-good plot is unusual because the other yaks are supportive from the start, and Fraser elevates the familiar story line with a well-paced rhyming text that invites reading aloud: "Look up! / A yak's STUCK! / On the craggy cliff's edge! / At the end of the narrowest, / rockiest ledge!" Hindley's digitally colored pen-and-ink illustrations, in a limited palette and featuring cool blue and green wintry backgrounds, are populated with endearing yaks, whose boldly patterned hats and scarves match the story's cozy feel.

Reviewer: Shoshana Flax | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021