The Story Hunter

Written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

North Winds Press (An imprint of Scholastic Canada)

978-1-0397-1033-7

32 pp.

Ages 3–8

February 2026 

 

 I am a story hunter. I carry stories. (pg. 33)

 

The Story Hunter is like nothing I've read from Barbara Reid. Her stories are treasures of brightness and joy, often of everyday life, whether it be gardening (Watch It Grow: Backyard Life Cycles, 2019), the weather (Picture the Sky, 2017), bedtime songs (Sing a Song of Bedtime, 2015), trees (Picture a Tree, 2013), or playing in the snow (Perfect Snow, 2009). But The Story Hunter, inspired by Barbara Reid's visit to see the cave art in the Vézère Valley, is a story from tens of thousands of years ago. It may be fiction, but it is rich in history of people and place and storytelling.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

This child is part of a community of hunters and gatherers. They follow the animals across valleys in the shadows of mountains, camping when the animals stop. And when they stop, they work together to make shelter, to prepare food, to gather wood, and to care for children.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

But when the hunters pack up to go, they are led by Grandmother because she knows where to look. They are not hunting animals for food; they are looking for the stories. Using lamps made of stone with depressions to carry fire, the hunting party enters into the blackness of caves in their search.

We are swallowed.

Our feet find smooth places, 

rough places, slippery places. 

Our lamps find marks that 

jump and hide. (pg. 14)

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

There are stalactites and stalagmites, dripping water and pools in openings, until they reach a cavern where the walls are covered in animals that play in their light. (pg. 19) The hunting party revels in the paintings they find, with the child especially enamoured with that of a mammoth, before adding their own story marks, with their preparation of red ochre. There is gratitude and revelry for the stories that were told and would be told.

 

I think that we forget that stories have been told for thousands of years and in a multitude of forms. And just because they are in form with which we are generally unfamiliar to interpret fully, they are stories that impart meaning just the same. Whether they are records of hunts or wishes for good ones, places of ceremony, or spiritual narratives, these pictographs tell much about the people who put them there. This child and his people are hunters, but more than just those of animals.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

Barbara Reid's text is one of reverence and community. The togetherness of all members, from the child to his grandmother, is what makes the community work, whether hunting for stories or looking for food. Her text depicts that admiration for people, past and present, and what they have done and are still doing. That honour is portrayed in their words ("Our home holds all we need," says Grandmother. "If we look."; pg. 2) and in Barbara Reid's art. The world is far greater and more important than the individual people. The vastness of the sky, the land, and all who live there is evident. Even when they enter the confined space of the caves, the walls are the focus, lit with an orange glow from their lanterns or torches. Barbara Reid knows where we should look, and she directs us there.

 

While the artwork was "made with modelling clay that was shaped and pressed onto illustration board" with acrylic paint used for special effects, it has a very different feel from the majority of Barbara Reid's books. In fact, I was very surprised to read this art credit on the copyright page, convinced Barbara Reid had employed a different art technique. But, though appearing more two-dimensional that other picture book illustrations of Barbara Reid's that I have reviewed, it works for a story about pictographs which are painted onto rock surfaces, not carved. It's in keeping with the story, just as her use of colour emphasizes the natural tones of an outdoor world and the darkness of an indoor cave. Always perfect, Barbara Reid knows how to take us to a place, whether now or 15,000 years ago. The stories will be told and found and told again, no matter their form.

Sarabeth's Garage

Written by Melanie Florence

Illustrated by Nadia Alam

Tundra Books

978-1-774885956

40 pp.

Ages 3–7

February, 2026

 

Sarabeth loves cars. She loves everything about them, from their tires and motors to their carburetors, and engines. She loves the way they look, how they move, and the sounds they make. Her family knows how much she loves being around cars and spending time at her dad's garage. Well, almost all of them understand. Sarabeth's grandmother doesn't. She shakes her head and cringes, telling her what girls should do and what boys do.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

But Sarabeth doesn't let it bother her. She puts on her blue coveralls with her name stitched on the pocket and helps her dad with oil changes, with fixing flat tires, and by replacing fan belts and spark plugs. And when she gets home, she has to scrub her nails and hands, though some of the grease never goes away. Sadly, her grandmother has something to say about that too.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

However, when Grandma is leaving, her car sounds terrible, and it belches out smoke. Sarabeth gets to work, and this time when her grandmother tells her, "In my day, little girls didn't know how to fix cars" (pg. 33), Sarabeth has a polite but confident reply 

 

I like to think that we've moved on significantly from those days of telling girls and boys and everyone in between what they can and cannot do. When we impose expectations on people that they either can't or choose not to meet, there is disappointment and even conflict. As a child, Sarabeth doesn't deserve to have her dreams of working on cars negated. It actually wasn't even a dream. She was doing it and doing it well and with confidence and joy. Thankfully Melanie Florence makes Sarabeth a strong character who knows herself and has the support of most of her family. She doesn't let her grandmother take away her passion. And by letting young readers see a child interested in tinkering and making, Melanie Florence supports children, and particularly girls, participating in STEM activities.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

I may have shared an anecdote from my teaching career but let me tell it again. I remember a girl in Grade 5 telling me that she couldn't do science, and it just about broke my heart. But it also disappointed me that someone had told her that she was incapable of something. I delighted in proving that person wrong. I'm pleased that Sarabeth knew what she wanted to do, and at such a young age. Her passions may change over time, but, as long as she is true to herself, it will be fine.

 

I believe this is the first book illustrated by Toronto artist Nadia Alam that I have reviewed, though she has contributed the artwork for a number of picture books. Her art, rendered in pencil and Photoshop, has a lighthearted edge to it. It is colourful and playful, but it is also thoughtful and revealing. Nadia Alam uses great detail to give Sarabeth's activity an atmosphere of work and interest, while using expressive lines to depict Grandma's displeasure and Sarabeth's parents' support for their child and patience with Grandma's narrow-mindedness.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

I know that many readers may read Sarabeth's Garage as a far lighter story than some of Melanie Florence's other award-winning books (e.g., Missing Nimâmâ, 2015, and Stolen Words, 2017). But Sarabeth's Garage has an important message in its own right, reminding children to forget those who say what you should do or what you should like or what you should be. If you're not hurting anyone and you're following your passion, do and like and be what you want. Sarabeth did.

I'm Busy

Written by Michael Ian Black

Illustrated by Debbie Ridpath Ohi

Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

978-1-6659-1524-3

40 pp.

Ages 4–8

Releases February 24 2026 

 

Michael Black and Debbie Ridpath Ohi's remarkable trio—a little girl, a pink flamingo, and a potato—from I'm Bored (2012), I'm Sad (2018), I'm Worried (2019), and I'm Sorry (2021) have returned, and now one of them is struggling with overcommitment and a lack of life balance. Together they've always helped each other through their issues. Can they help this time? And will there be a time when they can fit it in?

From I'm Busy, written by Michael Ian Black, illustrated by Debbie Ridpath Ohi

Flamingo wants to play, but every time he asks his friend, the little girl with the darling yellow barrettes, if she wants to play superheroes or Hula-Hoop, she tells him that she's busy. She may be painting or coding or experimenting or practising her trumpet, but it's always something. And her reasoning? "I can't! School starts in two weeks and then I've only got twelve years before college applications are due!" (pg. 7) Yikes. This child has a lot on her mind and her calendar.

From I'm Busy, written by Michael Ian Black, illustrated by Debbie Ridpath Ohi

Flamingo is very understanding, as is the droll Potato ("I can't read," he says when she shows them her calendar. [pg. 9]), but their questions about when she'll have time disquiet her. They try to help her slow down by watching the clouds, and that finally makes her realize that she needs to find balance to her dilemma. (FYI, a dilemma is not like a soufflé as Potato suggests.)

From I'm Busy, written by Michael Ian Black, illustrated by Debbie Ridpath Ohi

This little girl isn't just busy. She's also stressing because of that busyness. But with the help of her friends, making time for herself, and maybe some playing in the mud, she finds some balance in her life. And she finds it with humour, companionship, and uncommon wisdom. 

 

The humour is courtesy of American comedian (and actor and writer) Michael Ian Black who manages to make readers laugh while guiding them through common childhood dilemmas. Here, taking on more than she can handle is the result of uncertainty about her future and whether she can accomplish all that she feels she must. Though there are no adults in Michael Ian Black and Debbie Ridpath Ohi's I'm books, I can't help but think that there are some adults in the little girl's life compounding her worries. (Mind you, she's already coding so all this could be a result of her own awareness of what she needs to do to be successful.) Her friends may be unusual, but with Flamingo's eagerness for play, and Potato's apparent inertia, Michael Ian Black has created a perfect trio of characters that children will appreciate, maybe even know, and from whom they can learn while laughing, right down to the last line.

 

But I'm Busy needs Debbie Ridpath Ohi's illustrations to bring the story to life. We know the book's characters through her art, as well as Michael Ian Black's voice, but she gives them the colour and shape and expression that makes them easily identifiable and wholly adored. There is never any question that this little girl is accomplished but frantic with busyness. Her eyes are focused, she has a strained or absent smile, and, when she's really anxious, there are despair lines around her eyes. Debbie Ridpath Ohi's artwork is so evocative that she can create deep emotions with just a few lines. (Look at Potato in the illustration below. With just two eyes and a mouth, it is evident that he is cringing at her trumpet playing.) Thanks to Debbie Ridpath Ohi's art, reading I'm Busy is a treat for the eyes as well as the spirit.

From I'm Busy, written by Michael Ian Black, illustrated by Debbie Ridpath Ohi

Help young children find balance in their lives with some humour, extraordinary friends, and an abundance of colour and joy with a reading of I'm Busy. Then read the other I'm books in the series to help them understand their feelings and handle them with self-assurance, with or without a flamingo or a potato by their side.

 

• • • • • • • • • • • 

 

Read all five of the I'm books by Michael Ian Black and Debbie Ridpath Ohi. After all, it's important to make time for the good things in life. 

 

I'm Bored (2012)

I'm Sad (2018)

I'm Worried (2019)

I'm Sorry (2021)

I'm Busy (2026)

 

Also, there are some fun resources 

at Debbie Ridpath Ohi's page for I'm Busy here

• • • • • • • • • • • 

Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness

Written by Maria Birmingham

Illustrated by Catherine Chan

Owlkids Books

978-1771476201

48 pp.

Ages 8–12

January 2026 

 

While I suspect that identification as being left-handed is not the big deal that some used to make it, it is still an issue for many whose left hands are their dominant hands, particularly as they live in a world that is dominated by right-handers. For those who are left-handed and those who aren't but love learning about human behaviour, how our brains work, and what makes us unique and different, Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness offers opportunities for insight and for understanding. 

From Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness, written by Maria Birmingham, illustrated by Catherine Chan

Maria Birmingham, one of the stars of children's non-fiction (e.g., Snooze-O-Rama: The Strange Ways That Animals Sleep, 2021; Canada Wild: Animals Found Nowhere Else on Earth, 2022; When Nature Calls: The Unusual Bathroom Habits of the World's Creatures, 2024; Can We Talk?: How Humans Stay in Touch, 2025), takes a historical and scientific approach to the topic of why and how some people become lefties. Outside of her introduction and conclusion chapters, Maria Birmingham organizes her information according to the following:

• The History of Lefties
• Why is a Lefty a Lefty?
• Fact or Fiction?
• Inside Sports
• Body Talk
• Can Animals Be Lefties?
• Living in a Righty World 

After an introduction to being a lefty, including a fun quiz to help determine whether the reader is a lefty, a righty, or a bit of both—about one percent of people are ambidextrous—Maria Brimingham discusses some fascinating historic evidence of lefthandedness, like scratches on teeth and hand painting. She also writes of how lefthandedness was perceived in ancient civilizations—either as cursed or magical—through the middle ages, and into the Industrial Revolution. Readers will also learn how lefthandedness was seen in modern times, with parents and teachers forcing kids to write with their right hands.

From Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness, written by Maria Birmingham, illustrated by Catherine Chan

Beyond the history, Maria Birmingham gives readers the basics of the science of lefthandedness, from DNA to baby's development, and brain differences. There's also some discussion related to creativity, intelligence, and memory, as well as its role in sports and perhaps survival. And even though the term "lefthandedness" rests on the premise of having hands, other animals seem to show preferences too. A penultimate discussion about living in a world of righthandedness will give readers pause, particularly for righties who never consider the challenges for lefties using scissors, tech, and other tools.

From Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness, written by Maria Birmingham, illustrated by Catherine Chan

I appreciate Maria Birmingham's final note about moving away from the lefty-versus-righty idea. The issue isn't that we're different; it's the idea that one may be better than the other because of dominance. Since we're all about diversity, equity, and inclusion, maybe separating people along lines of handedness may not be appropriate. But, acknowledging those differences will help everyone be included and get what they need, and that's a good thing.

 

Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness is a terrific introduction to why some people use their left hands for writing and other functions rather than their right hands. The book is a thorough examination of the topic from history to science and sports, and even identity. With Toronto illustrator Catherine Chan's digital artwork (created on a Wacom tablet) to bring the non-fiction text to life in colour and context, Left-Handed: Getting a Grip on Handedness becomes an entertaining and informative read about the extraordinary nature of the ordinary.

Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story

Written and illustrated by Joanne Robertson with Shirley (Fletcher) Horn

Second Story Press

978-1772604542

70 pp.

Ages 9–12

Releases February 10, 2026 

 

Shirley, who originally came from Moose Factory, before moving with her family to the southern area of Treaty 9, on the Missinaibi River, remembers being happy. They hunted, fished, trapped, gathered food, and grew food in their garden. But when she was five, the Indian agent came, declaring that since her parents had separated, she and her siblings, which included three-year-old Billy and older sister Frances, would be going with him.  

From Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story, written by Joanne Robertson with Shirley (Fletcher) Horn, illustrated by Joanne Robertson

They were taken by canoe to St. John's Indian Residential School in Chapleau. The first order of business was separating the children into different areas, and Shirley declares that "separating us was their first act of cruelty." (pg. 11) As Shirley and her little brother were too young for school, she became the companion for the minister's young daughter, and Billy was kept outside with the chickens.

From Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story, written by Joanne Robertson with Shirley (Fletcher) Horn, illustrated by Joanne Robertson

When she was finally able to go to school, Shirley loved learning and felt that "being in the classroom took away some of the loneliness." (pg. 17) She saw her siblings at church and at mealtimes, but never being allowed to speak to them was difficult. 

From Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story, written by Joanne Robertson with Shirley (Fletcher) Horn, illustrated by Joanne Robertson

When St. John's Residential School was condemned, the children were moved to Shingwauk Indian Residential School in Sault Ste. Marie. They were able to see their father again, who presented them with generous bags of apples and oranges—which the supervisors took to oversee—and their aunt and uncle who "filled up more than our bellies in our brief visit. They filled up our spirits with good feelings." (pg. 18)

 

At their new school, their routines were quite strict. (The inside front and back covers display "Pupils' 'Timetable,' Shingwauk Home" with times, bells and activities, from workers to work  to the marching to dormitories and the saying of grace, laid out.) And, though Shirley and her friends find ways to endure the rigorous nature of their lives—having competitions, daring each other, and grabbing moments of joy when possible—Shirley missed her family very much. Not surprising that Shirley with others attempted several escapes, though hers were not successful being children so far from home. 

From Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story, written by Joanne Robertson with Shirley (Fletcher) Horn, illustrated by Joanne Robertson

The stories of residential schools are plentiful and always horrific. For children to be taken from those who loved them and to be forced to dissociate from family and their culture and heritage is heartbreaking. Shirley (Fletcher) Horn's story, as shared with Joanne Robertson (who wrote and illustrated The Water Walker, 2017), is an honest portrayal of her experiences, but still told in an age-appropriate tone. Enough stories of survivors of residential schools and of those who were victimized in those schools are plentiful and tragic. But, because Joanne Robertson and Shirley (Fletcher) Horn take Shirley's reminiscences, good and bad, and focus on her perspective on them and how she dealt with everything, what comes across most importantly is her resilience. As a child, she made herself think of other things, to delve into her learning, and to "shut off my loneliness." (pg. 30) She fought off bullies, fear, and, most of all, that loneliness. She is strong and gutsy, and she endured.

 

The images in Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story are a unique blend of photographs, many from Algoma University archives of Shingwauk Residential School Centre and from Joanne Robertson, and drawings by Joanne Robertson. By mixing two media, she helps us focus on Shirley and the other children, and less on their grim circumstances. By limiting colour to the children and any positive circumstances they appreciated like a confirmation dress, or the river banked by trees, Joanne Robertson reminds us of where the goodness is. 

 

Shirley: An Indian Residential School Story is an important addition to all compilations of middle grade stories about Indigenous children in residential schools. By telling her story, just as she did to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Shirley (Fletcher) Horn's has found a way to share for those who endured the same and for those who cannot imagine it and need to be informed. 

It's a Mitig!

Written and illustrated by Bridget George

D & M Kids (Douglas & McIntyre)

978-1-771-624817

32 pp.

Ages 3–5

January 2026 

 

Giizis is rising, the day is brand new.

Let's learn some words nature's gathered for you. (pg. 3)

 

So begins Bridget George's It's a Mitig!, a picture book originally published in 2020 and now available as a board book, perfect for a concept book for teaching Ojibwe (Anishinaabemowin) words. 

 

With the rising of the sun (giizis), readers are taken from place to place to meet a variety of animals and plants. From the ashigan (bass) to the gaag (porcupine), Bridget George introduces Ojibwe words. She never uses the words "sun" or "bass" or "porcupine" but the children to whom the text is read will put the visual and textual clues together and determine what these new words mean. And, because she uses short rhyming verse, Bridget George makes the text playful and easy to remember. Moreover, her text is always informative and clear in evoking the name of each subject. For example, the text for a bird tells the reader that, "This animal whistles and lives in a tree. Building a nest, it's a bineshiinh." (pg. 11) Bineshiinh is obviously the Ojibwe word for "bird."

From It's a Mitig!, written and illustrated by Bridget George

Though Bridget George's digital illustrations in The Animals Choose a Leader (written by Richard Wagamese, 2024) and  The Inquisitive Raven (also by Richard Wagamese, 2025) are of a Woodland style, her artwork in It's a Mitig! is less defined as of an Indigenous art style. However, this Anishinaabe author-illustrator continues to embed readers fully in the natural world of trees and acorns, rivers and fish. By pairing new words with familiar natural elements like the moon (dibiki-giizis) or a river (ziibi), Bridget George teaches twelve Ojibwe names with informative and bright art.

From It's a Mitig!, written and illustrated by Bridget George

While the original book includes a glossary page with a pronunciation guide, these are not included in this edition of It's a Mitig! But, for a concept book, they are not really necessary. This is a board book, so most likely read by an older reader to a young child. Those to whom the book is read will pick up on the words by listening and looking at the pictures, not by reading them themselves. And they will learn these words. Whether these children are Anishinaabe or not, there will be learning of new words, and it will happen with colour, bright shapes, and descriptive rhyme.

From It's a Mitig!, written and illustrated by Bridget George

2025 Lane Anderson Award: Winner announced

 

The Lane Anderson Award for excellence in Canadian science writing was awarded on Wednesday, January 28, 2026 in Toronto. The event, hosted by Carol-Ann Hoyte and Winston Stitwell, presented the winners from shortlists selected by independent juries of experts in science, science writing and literature. The awards created and sponsored by the Fitzhenry Family Foundation, and named for the mothers of its two founders, Robert and Hilda Fitzhenry, were given in two categories, one for adults and the other for young readers, with each winner receiving a generous $10,000.

 

 

  • • • • • • •

Congratulations to this year's winner

in the Young Reader category

 

 

A Planet Is a Poem
Written by Amanda West Lewis
Illustrated by Oliver Averill
Kids Can Press
56 pp.
Ages 8-12
2024

Reviewed here

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