Twig - Picture Book Review

Twig

(Scholastic, 2016)

written and illustrated by Aura Parker

Tags: Picture books, Reading, Insects, being invisible, friendship, 

This is one of the books I brought home from the Kids & YA Festival at Writing NSW 2018 that made me all excited to go home and read. Funny thing was, I saw the author, Aura Parker, at the first panel session I attended. She stood in the corner, drawing a picture on a paper that was propped up on an easel. I wasn't sure why she was doing that. The other four panelists, Paul Russell, Dub Leffler, Kirli Saunders and chairing Sarah Davies were having a good time talking about all sorts of themes picture books tackle these days, including dementia identity and freedom., while she was quietly drawing in the corner. I mustn't have paid attention, because after ten minutes or so, Dub Leffler swapped places with her. (I think people could win them in the raffle tickets at the end of the day. I bought some but didn't stay till the end and so I'll never know - I could have ended up winning one of them!). I realised later, Aura standing in the corner, isolated and seemingly not part of action like  the rest -- mirrored, uncannily, Heidi, the heroine of her delightful picture book.

The Plot

Heidi is a stick insect starting at a new school. Her problem is nobody notices her. Not even the teacher because Heidi just blends in too well with her surroundings, because that's what stick insects do -- brown, long and thin, they are masters in camouflage!

"Nobody saw her at lunchtime. Nobody saw here, here... there...or anywhere."

Heidi is not included in the learning, the playing or anything else around the school grounds, which makes her sad. She remains invisible until she gets mistaken for a twig to be used in a school project, she finally speaks up:

"I'm NOT a twig. I'm me! Heidi!" 

and ta-da! She speaks up and is no longer invisible. She makes sure that everyone will notice her from now on and the whole school is in on it and all the forest children weave a scarf as a welcome gift and as a way to de-camouflage Heidi! Now she can join in the playing and learning and discovers her hidden talents along the way.

Theme(s)

Being different and shy at the same time can be overwhelming -- especially on your first day at a new school. Yet, sometimes you gain more by stepping forward and make your voice heard!

Heidi doesn't get only overlooked because she looks like a twig and blends in in the woody environment too well. The reason why nobody notices her is because she doesn't make an effort to stand out. 

"Bug school is abuzz with hundreds of shiny, scurrying shapes.

 But not one bug noticed the new girl, Heidi, 

tall and long like the twig of a tree. "

Heidi's story shows that sometimes we need to step out of our comfort zone and speak up - even if we are shy, every now and then, we need to do things differently to what comes natural to us. And once people get to know us, being different can come in handy for all--and well, 'bridge'- building when we need one! 

The start of any friendship takes one step. Sometimes this step needs to be ours. And when we do, we get rewarded with new friends --and when we're super lucky with a new scarf!

Pictures

The world of Heidi's new school of bugs is softly painted in pastel tones. The school yard in the woods, is filled with life, fun and games and invites to look for where Heidi might be 'hiding'.

This is nicely contrasted with Heidi's inner feeling of loneliness, depicting her and her shadow surrounded by nothing but white space:

"One, tow, three. One tow three. Why won't someone play with me?"

Bug school looks like so much fun and there is so much detail that it's easy to get lost in the delightful images.

Words 

Hiding Heidi -- is there a better name? 

TWIG is a beautiful book - to read and to just look as the pictures on each page tell their own story. It is a book that I wish one could physically dive into and play with all those cute little bugs of all sizes, shapes and colours in this perfect little bug world. They look like they're having the best time of their lives!


Here are fun links to the fabulous book trailer and Aurora Parker drawing Heidi the stick insect 

Dr Boogaloo and The Girl Who Lost Her Laughter - Review

Dr Boogaloo and The Girl Who Lost Her Laughter

(Penguin Random House Australia, 2017)

Written by Lisa Nicol, illustrated by Daniel Gray-Barnett

Tags: Children’s novel, Reading, Music

I’ve been wanting to write this review for a long time, especially since I unofficially declared this book my favourite children’s novel of 2017. I even met the author, Lisa Nicol, at this year’s Kids&YA Festival at Writing NSW and was able to tell her that in person. So, here it is.

The Plot

Dr Boogaloo is a specialist in curing ‘unusual complaints’. In fact, it is said that he treats ‘every kind of childhood disorder you can think of, from Can Only Sleep If Wearing A Pair Of Goggles And A Snorkel Syndrome to uncontrollable swearing every time the afflicted opens his or her mouth.

In other words, Dr Boogaloo steps in, where ordinary treatment fails.

He treats illness not with pills and portions. No, no, no! He has one cure only – music! The key, he knows, lies in the dosage and kind of music, of course.

“Musical medicine is an exact art. And it’s extraordinarily complicated.”

The way Dr. Boogaloo explains it is this – everyone has their own tune but

“Sometimes, for one reason or other, we get all out of tune. We lose the beat, you might say.”

A girl named Blue, yes after the colour (I will come to that in a moment), suffers from an awful illness for quite some time: 712 days, to be exact. Only one person might have a clue as to how to cure this debilitating and isolating, stigmatising affliction of No-Laughing Syndrome that causes Blue to be misunderstood and lonely.

That person is Dr Boogaloo.

But Blue’s loss of laughter is a challenge unlike any other he’s faced before. In three hundred years, not one patient left Boogaloo’s Family Clinic of Musical Cures uncured, but when he can’t seem to find a cure for Blue he is about to give it all up.

Theme(s)

Blue is different because she cannot laugh. Blue is not a name, but a state of mind. Not that we don’t understand why – her mother treats her like a fashion accessory – she changes her daughter’s name regularly, depending on the colour theme of her designer home; her ever absent, animal shooting father make her feel different:

"Blue found many things about her parents difficult to understand […] Blue felt as though she was born into the wrong family."

Dr Boogaloo and The Girl Who Lost Her Laughter is a book about the power of music.

It shows the ability of music to transform thoughts and feeling; its ability to nurture the act of listening – to others and to one self.  The story illuminates the role music plays in everyone’s life  and wellbeing.

“Not everyone hears the right music – or knows how to listen. And they suffer terribly… if you don’t let your heart fly, your tune gets right out of whack. It’s a bit like spending your whole life indoors – it’s just not good for your health.”

The book introduces the reader to a global collection of musical instruments, their sounds and the way they are plaid. Nurturing creativity/music from early childhood can bring not only joy, but basic life skills that can be a tool to feeling and expressing connectedness with one self and others.

Pictures

Musical notes, people, animals and other objects depicted throughout the book, as well as on the cover, seem in a state of flux: they move in different beats and rhythms, or float on melodies across the page.

Illustrator Daniel Gray-Barnett captures Blue’s isolation particularly well in the image of the cover where some invisible force pushes her outside world – people, music, animals – centrifugally to the margins of the paper.

Whatever sound or vibration causes this – it has no rhythm, melody, pitch, or timbre. Blue is visibly out of tune.

The Words

Apart from the fact that Dr Boogaloo’s wife Bessie uses an iBike that transports them both to higher grounds while paddling to the clinic everyday, the book offers a number of beautiful sounding words.

(There are so many, I can’t choose, so I leave this for the reader to explore!)

Back to the iBike ride:

"Off they went. Bessie’s skirt billowed out like butterfly wings. Blue closed her eyes and felt the iBike lift up into the sky."

It also makes Blue feel the music in her body:

"You can feel your heart flutter as soon as the music hits you, right? That’s the wings being attached. Snap, snap! Then if you pay attention, you can feel your heart nudging your ribs, dipping into your stomach and flying out through your skin. That’s that tingling feeling."

And

"Sometimes our strings get tangled up. That’s called falling in love. That’s why you can’t fall in love without music."

Sometimes, the sentences have a song-like feel to them:

"The research was in.

The facts were firm.

The truth was crystal clear!"

But also:

"Any little hee hees in that time?" Asked the Doctor."No,""ho hos?""None.""What about tee hees?""No," said Blue, barely a whisper."haw haws, yuk yuks?"

Dr Boogaloo and The Girl Who Lost Her Laughter is funny, sad and witty and makes you laugh every other page.  It makes you want to learn a fabulous instrument - who wouldn't want to try out the djembes or the swan-bone flute? It’s a great book for middle-grade readers or for reading together out aloud. A good book when you feel the need for a good tune or a good laugh. :-)

Sad, The Dog

(Walker Books, 2015)

written by Sandy Fussell, illustrated by Tull Suwannakit

Tags: Picture books, Reading, Dogs
Here is the promised review on Sad, the Dog, (Walker Books, 2015) written by Sandy Fussell and illustrated by Tull Suwannakit. It is one of my favourite picture books that feature a dog. Read more or listen here.

This is my first picture book review, so I hope I don’t break any rules and conventions –and if I do –I hope you will read on anyway.

The Plot

The story is about a little dog that ends up as an unwanted Christmas present. While his owners look after his physical needs –they feed, bed and groom him– they don’t understand him, don’t love him and therefore don’t name him. So the dog calls himself Sad. When the owners move away, they leave him behind, hungry and confused. The next day, however, a family with a young boy moves in and the boy is delighted:

"Mum, you forgot to tell me our new home has a puppy. This is the best surprise ever."

The boy called Jack gains the puppy’s trust by being patient and caring. The dog feels understood and loved for the first time, and he appreciates the little and big things Jack does for him, like giving him a padded basket to sleep in, special treats for breakfast, and games they can play together. But best of all, he gives him a name and one that suits him much better than the old one: LUCKY.

Theme(s)

Sad, the Dog is a heart-warming story about loneliness and emotional neglect, about being unappreciated and misunderstood, and how this situation can turn around. It is about hope and the power of love.

The book tackles difficult topics, among them pet ownership. What happens to those unwanted Christmas or birthday gifts? (One in five Australians own a dog, so there are nearly 5 million dogs and, sadly, every year, tens of thousands of dogs get abandoned and worse).

The book’s strong story lines, themes and messages make it a great book to read with and for children ages 5-8 years.

Why I keep buying this book for my little and not so little friends? In Sad, the Dog the two elements of picture book storytelling come beautifully together. The two elements being a) the pictures and b) the words.

The Pictures

Sad, the Dog is a pretty book.

What I mean by that is that its cover has great appeal. As a visual person, I judge a book by its cover.
I know, I shouldn’t, but I do. Every. Single. Time.

When I go to a bookstore, I never go directly to any particular section (I like reading all sorts of books), even if I know what I want to get; instead I scan the place and let colours, fonts and imagery catch my eyes, before I even pick up a book and read the blurb.

I guess everyone has their own method in how they conquer the sheer volume of information and make a selection. If a cover doesn’t call out to me, I rarely get to hear what the inside of the book has to say. It’s a bit like buying new shoes or jeans –if you don’t like the look, why bother trying them on?

But back to Sad, the Dog and its pretty cover: On the front cover there is a tree, a dog, a huge grey sky and lots of fallen leaves. A single leaf is just about to land on the small dog’s head, who, sitting on a bed of fallen leaves, is looking out into a rain-heavy sky. He looks lonely. There is nothing on the horizon.

If you removed the title and names of the author and illustrator, the watercolour painting would carry the story of Sad, the Dog beautifully on its own. With a leaf-less, lifeless tree dominating more than half of the book, the dead leaves in colourful pastel tones don’t seem quite dead yet; so yes, it’s pretty, but it also is gloomy. Because the dog sits there all alone, you immediately wonder and want to find out why. All of this is captured in Suwannakit's cover.

On the back, the blurb reveals just enough to understand that the little dog is unloved, unwanted and – sad. This feeling is all consuming and he has become Sad, with a capital S, it’s no longer what he feels but who he is. There is an empty letterbox, a pigeon and a crow.
In some cultures, pigeons represent peace, faith and fidelity, while crows are often portrait as the bringer of bad news in a number of mythologies. Sad, looking on as they fly passed, doesn’t know what the future brings: good or bad news.

I also like the fact that Sad is neither pretty nor particularly cute. It helps staying focused on the message that he, like all dogs, needs to be loved and respected. The little short-legged, small eyed, overweight cross-bred of a dog is perfect.

Inside the book, Sandy Fussell weaves a clever pattern of contrasting ideas, which brings me to the second element of the picture book storytelling, which is done so well here:

The Words

The words tell the story by contrasting the viewpoints of owner/dog:

Sad the dog was very clever. He could sing wonderful songs.
“Stop that Yapping,” Mr Cripps boomed

and

He could read stories.
“Stop ripping up the newspaper,” Mr and Mrs Cripps yelled

Through juxtaposing views of the first owners vs the dog’s intentions, the text invites the reader to look at both sides of the coin, while the details such as the names carry further clues about their owners:

Sad, is the name of the neglected, unhappy dog, while Mr and Mrs Cripps, the unloving owners sound a little bit like ‘creeps’. And then there is Jack.

Jack, a common English name since the middle ages (so common in fact that it was often used in lieu of the terms ‘boy’ or ‘man’) means ‘God is gracious’. But a jack is also a tool that lifts heavy loads. The boy, Jack, lifts Sad’s heavy heart and the burden of being unhappy.

Ok. That last part may be me, getting carried away a bit. But I like the idea that names can add, ever so subtly, an extra layer of meaning.

Sad, the Dog is a beautifully told story, full of symbolism in pictures and words and I would recommend reading it aloud and in company. It inspires conversations about responsibilities to care for pets, about hope when all seems lost, and it is a book about friendship and finding a true home…

…I could go on, but maybe it’s for you to find all the little and big messages hidden in this book for yourself ?