Jill Lorenzini

It’s hard for Daniel to leave his warm bed and cozy apartment, but without a babysitter, he must accompany his parents to their nighttime janitorial job. While they work, they make up stories, transforming the empty conference rooms, messy kitchen and echoing hallways into a magical realm. Welcome to The Paper Kingdom. 

Author Helena Ku Rhee writes from her own personal experience, having also gone with her parents to their night custodial jobs. Her narration rings with honesty as Daniel’s voice changes from sleepy and surly to curious but frustrated as he sees how hard his parents work to clean up the messes created by the office workers. 

Illustrator Pascal Campion expertly uses colors to build a sense of atmosphere on every page. Readers will feel the warm glow of a lamp, hear the squeaky shine of newly mopped floors and see the blur of the city through bleary eyes. The facial expressions of Daniel and his parents are simple but convey their emotions (especially their exhaustion) clearly and unmistakably. Campion’s digital brushstrokes vary from soft and vague to finely detailed. Plants become bold strokes of color, while bathroom-stall doors are sharp and precise. This variety—along with a few magical touches—brings readers into Daniel’s sleepy, dreamlike state and makes every page feel like a slightly hazy memory.

The Paper Kingdom salutes the sacrifices that parents make for their children and movingly acknowledges the work of those who toil while the city sleeps. It’s an affectionate tribute to the bonds of family and the unexpected memories we form when we perform seemingly mundane tasks together. It’s also an homage to the way imagination sometimes works when we are young, and how reality and the possibility of dragons can mingle.

Over the years, an old farm truck falls into disrepair and disuse. But the truck isn’t forgotten by the farmer’s daughter, who grows up to become a skilled farmer herself and dreams of a new kind of adventure. 

The Old Truck, the debut picture book from brothers Jarrett and Jerome Pumphrey, is an instant classic, updating tried and true picture book themes for a diverse modern audience. With both Pumphrey brothers acting as author and illustrator, the result is seamless storytelling through both pictures and words. Their stamped artwork is visually distinctive, with bold shapes in mellow yet colorful tones. 

The Old Truck contains no dialogue, and even the narration is restrained, almost austere in its simplicity. The story is all the more remarkable for it. Using plain, accessible language, the Pumphreys personify the truck as its exhaustion reflects that of the farmer, and its own story comes full circle. Time passes gently; seasons change, wildflowers bloom, trees grow larger, baskets overflow with the harvest, and buildings quietly age.

You’ll love everything about The Old Truck, but my favorite part is how calmly and clearly the book conveys contemporary ethical messages that other picture books frantically, sometimes ploddingly, strive to achieve. It’s all there: strong, unwavering, capable women; local farm-to-market sensibility; and the importance of repairing and recycling what we have for the next generation. 

Sorry, other books, but it’s going to take a lot to beat The Old Truck to the top of my 2020 list.

Fly! by Mark Teague encourages young children to spread their wings through the calm and comical story of a tenacious baby bird.

Tired mama robin says her baby is old enough to fly. But baby, with a shock of feathers standing straight up on his head, is perfectly happy in the nest, eating worms delivered by his mother. Baby demands worms with increasing volume until he screams himself right out of the nest. Sitting in the grass, he envisions fantastical ideas for achieving flight—everything but the use of his own two wings.

In this wordless picture book, author/illustrator Teague masterfully balances humor and sincerity. He lets image-filled thought bubbles and charmingly illustrated bird facial expressions guide the narration. This inviting and interactive book makes the most of every page with soft, colorful illustrations. In a unique twist, a few two-page spreads compel the reader to turn the book vertically, physically engaging the reader in the baby bird’s journey.

Readers will laugh out loud at baby’s innovative migration ideas (which include a pogo stick and a shiny red convertible) and mama robin’s increasing exasperation. Familiar, funny and sincere, Fly! gently encourages children to grow and learn. Perhaps the best part of trying new things is having a warm, safe place to land at the end of the day.

When you think of nature, what do you imagine? Anthills, molehills, bears in dens and lions in the sun? In A Stone Sat Still, author-illustrator Brendan Wenzel tells a universal story of life through an ostensibly nonliving object. Unmoving and constant, a stone may be still. But it is full of life, both for and because of the life surrounding it.

Through Wenzel’s unique art, each page contains a small ecosphere to explore. Wenzel gives readers a new awareness, envisioning life through the expressive eyes of myriad creatures. A variety of media (paper collage, pastels) and colors transform the stone from crisp and bright to slippery and mossy or shadowy and secretive. Soft and blunt edges come together to create dimension, texture and movement. Slightly fantastical, Wenzel’s art flows from season to season; time passes, and the land changes, both dynamic and perpetual.

Lyrical and precise, A Stone Sat Still reads like a poem. In addition to rhyme, Wenzel weaves together metaphors, alliteration and personification to tap into the reader’s senses and imagination: How does the stone feel, smell or sound to the creatures that temporarily inhabit its world?

The littlest readers will find comfort in A Stone Sat Still’s repetition. Curious minds will be fascinated by both the familiar and unusual creatures parading across the pages. Imaginative brains will find vast realms of inspiration. And all readers will leave the stone with a sense of wonder about the next chapter in its life.

Kids are masters of wild invention. In The Neighbors, author and illustrator Einat Tsarfati cheerfully pulls young readers into a world of colorful, untamed imagination as seen through the eyes of one creative little girl.

There are many doors in the girl’s apartment building; some doors seem playful, some foreboding, and one is downright smelly. The lobster door knockers, jungle plants and paw prints she finds in the halls all lead her to one conclusion: Her building is full of museum thieves, mermaids and jazz musicians. Whoever they are, she asserts, the residents of her building are far more exciting than her own parents.

While Tsarfati writes with a genuinely kid-friendly voice, she wisely limits her narration and lets her art take over. Again and again, our curiosity ends with a satisfying explosion of intriguing detail and vibrant colors that tumble boldly into each apartment. Rare gems join a clutter of Legos, fire-breathing acrobat babies toast bread and pirate-ship chandeliers sway underwater. Readers will want to explore every inch of the pages. Hint: keep your eyes open for the missing pet hamster that appears as a sort of Where’s Waldo? in each apartment scene.

Tsarfati writes and illustrates with a child’s enthusiasm and sense of possibility. Bold and exciting, The Neighbors teeters delightfully on the edge of chaos with an acrobat’s balance of storytelling and imagination. With so much to look at, it’s a hard book to close. Tsarfati tells one apartment resident’s story, but there are countless others yet to be discovered.

Omu’s hearty stew has been simmering all day, and she’s not the only one who has noticed its enticing aroma. But after Omu’s kind heart and generous ladle feed several hardworking neighbors and friends, Omu finds herself supperless. Unassuming and simple, Thank You, Omu! by author and illustrator Oge Mora begins with a lesson on compassion and ends with a celebration of community.

Mora’s art is a visually intriguing multimedia feast. Newspaper clippings, pastel art, clothing patterns and maps cheerfully collide in collages that reflect the bustling community of the story. Mora’s characters are bold, diverse and expressive, her cityscapes exciting and fun. Influenced by her Nigerian roots, Mora’s eclectic style is lively and urban but easily translates to different neighborhoods around the world.

While her illustrations are distinct and inviting, Mora, like all good storytellers, uses repetition to create a tale that becomes instantly familiar. Repeated phrases such as “big fat pot” and “thick red stew” help even the youngest readers follow—and delightfully predict—the chain of events. Mora writes with a composed energy that is both kid-friendly and timeless.

Thank You, Omu! isn’t a book that lectures, nor is it a tale of grand gestures. It’s a book about the simplicity of sharing what you have, and that kindness being returned with love. Based on the author’s memories of her grandma, Thank You, Omu! is a fitting tribute to those thoughtful hearts who turn houses into homes and streets into communities.

Award-winning author David Almold’s evocative and expressive new picture book, The Dam, tells the story of a father and daughter’s last visit to their valley community before the arrival of the newly constructed dam’s rising waters. The duo brings forth twirling, ghostly images from the past—supplied by Levi Pinfold—as they play violin and sing in each abandoned house. As remembered souls and memories drift away, the pair leaves the houses ringing with song.

Almond sets the mood with short, almost curt sentences, creating austere poetry rife with repetition. He doesn’t linger on descriptions, instead allowing the illustrations and the reader’s imagination to flesh out the story.

Pinfold poignantly illustrates this true story of England’s Kielder Dam valley and creates his own visual opus with broad, sweeping hills and hovering fog—rendered in muted colors—that foreshadow the coming loss. With incredible detail, Pinfold also gives young readers an intimate portrayal of the various creatures that made their homes in the valley with his sepia-toned portraits.

Perhaps the most extraordinarily lovely and melancholy picture book published this year, The Dam will linger in readers’ minds. But what sticks with you after the book is closed is not desolation and defeat; it’s blue water and open skies, exuberant children, dancing stars and, of course, music.

This article was originally published in the September 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.