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.

Songs for Ghosts

Written by Clara Kumagai

Penguin Teen Canada

978-1-774882825

399 pp.

Ages 14+

August 2025 

 

Reviewed from audiobook

Penguin Random House Canada Audio 

Narrated by Kenichiro Thomson and Susan Momoko-Hingley  

 

Each story from the past is one for the future. (p. 368)

There are two stories in Song for Ghosts. From different times and different places, these two stories run parallel until they converge. How they converge and why comes from the blending of music with family and the supernatural and Japanese culture. And in the end, a Japanese-American teen learns more about himself from a young Japanese woman from a century earlier. 

 

The story of seventeen-year-old Adam is a contemporary one. He hangs with friends—though he did just have a bad breakup with his boyfriend Evan—plays the cello, goes to Japanese school on Saturdays, and spends time with his family: stepmom Kate, baby half-brother Benny, and Dad when he's not away on military business which is often lately. The second story comes into play when Adam discovers an old book of letters in a wooden box with Japanese writing on it. Thinking it might be connected to his Japanese mom who passed when he was a baby, Adam begins to read the dated letters from a young woman who writes to her recently deceased Obasama (grandmother). And when a ghost begins to appear in his house, Adam is both terrified and intrigued. He wants answers, so he looks to the diary.

 

In this diary of letters, the young woman, who lives in Nagasaki, plays the biwa, a Japanese lute important in storytelling, and begins to take lessons from a blind biwa hōshi. Soon the diary writer is playing for ghosts in order to appease them. Meanwhile, her uncle decides it is time for her to marry, and, though not a man he has selected, she is courted by an American lieutenant. The connection she makes with him, and with his associate Mr. S–, changes the trajectory of her life. And when Adam is approved for a homestay in Nagasaki, he expands his search for information on the diary writer and her story. 

 

Songs for Ghosts, recently nominated for the White Pine award of the Forest of Reading, is a far more involved story than I can possibly recount here. First, Clara Kumagai immerses the reader, through both the diary writer's letters and Adam's visit to Japan, in the richness of Japanese stories and music, and of Japanese history, and of its culture from food to festivals. There is also romance, both for the diary writer and for Adam, though their relationships are complicated. Third, there is much to learn about Adam and his family, both in the U.S. and in Japan, and the bonds he has with them. Needing to learn more about his mother's family takes him to learn more about himself. Finally, I haven't even mentioned the correspondence of Adam's story and that of the diary writer to Puccini's Madama Butterfly. Even with all these distinct storylines and plot elements, Clara Kumagai is subtle and elegant in wrapping them together across time and place, and bringing Adam and the diary writer as well as other characters to merge in a satisfying and redemptive way. As such, readers as well as the ghosts who want to be remembered are appeased.

Raven Gets Tricked (Coast Salish Tales)

Written and illustrated by Andrea Fritz

Orca Book Publishers

978-1459836273

32 pp.

Ages 6-8

September 2024

 

Andrea Fritz of the Lyackson First Nation brings us a new story for her Coast Salish Tales series, continuing to connect young readers to the teachings of the Coast Salish peoples through storytelling. 

It's winter and Smuy (little deer in the Hul'q'umi'num' language) finds his food stores empty except for some berries. When he realizes that he always shares with his cousin Spaal' (raven) who never reciprocates but often tricks Smuy instead, Smuy concocts a plan.

From Raven Gets Tricked, written and illustrated by Andrea Fritz

Smuy's plan begins with mashing up his remaining berries and pouring them out onto the snow beneath Spaal's tree. When Spaal' sees the red snow and asks Smuy to share it, Smuy does so. But Spaal' needed more space for this wonderful red snow so deposits his dried salmon and leaves it on the beach. While Spaal' continues to help himself to the red snow and even trying to hide that he'd taken more than his share, Smuy helps himself to the discarded salmon. 

Back after a night near Spaal's fire, all the red snow melts and floods his house. Smuy kindly takes Spaal' to his house and feeds him salmon, and even gives him some to take home as all his food is now gone. (At least Spaal' thanks Smuy with "Huy ch q'u!")

From Raven Gets Tricked, written and illustrated by Andrea Fritz

Between the art and the story, Andrea Fritz teaches, entertains, and delights with Raven Gets Tricked. The story has much to say about greed and sharing, self-sufficiency and helping others. It never occurs to Spaal', the raven who is known as a trickster, that he should think of others. He wants what he wants, never sharing–except when tricked into it–but always wanting from others, never wondering if they need something more than he. He asks, he takes, and he holds. Smuy, on the other hand, needs food. Whether his stores were always inadequate or because he shared with others or whether someone like Spaal' stole from him is irrelevant. I don't know why he didn't just ask but I suspect he knew that Spaal' would have many excuses not to share. Regardless, Andrea Fritz has created two very different characters. She makes Spaal' the selfish and manipulative creature upon whom misfortune occurs because of his own greed and Smuy, the kind animal who is compelled to reciprocate trickery but still shows goodness to help another.

From Raven Gets Tricked, written and illustrated by Andrea Fritz

Andrea Fritz even differentiates the two animals in the style of her art. Using a lovely and generously emotive Woodland style of art, Andrea Fritz gives Smuy a softness while Spaal' is somewhat sharper in shape and line. Of course, with a beak and talons, there is more sharpness to a raven, but the little deer looks lithe and muscular and still delicate. Moreover, Andrea Fritz's illustrations take us beyond the two characters, placing us in a northern environment of coniferous trees, laden with snow, purple and blue waters, and wooden plank houses. (The grain of the wood is reflected in many surfaces, from water and beach to sky and land.)

The story in Raven Gets Tricked offers a lesson in sharing but Andrea Fritz takes that teaching a step further by appending it with a discussion of Coastal Salish Plank Houses. She shares her personal experiences of building plank houses and even moving them to foraging grounds in the summer. Along with time spent in the houses, there is discussion about sharing and trading with local Nations.

Spuy may have to trick Spaal' in order to get food to survive but the little deer still does it with kindness and generosity, a lesson Spaal' should have learned.

 

• • • • • • •

 

Coast Salish Tales by Andrea Fritz

Otter Doesn't Know (2023)

Crow Helps a Friend (2024)

Raven Gets Tricked (2024)

Woolly Dog Warms His Family (expected 2025 or 2026)

The Golden Apples

Written by Dan Yashinsky

Illustrated by Ekaterina Khlebnikova

Running the Goat, Books & Broadsides

978-1-998802050

40 pp.

Ages 6-9

September 2023

 

It all starts with golden apples. And it ends with golden apples. But the story in between is big, far greater than a few golden apples coveted by a king. The real story of The Golden Apples is Jack's story of quests, and it is this story that must be told aloud by a storyteller, such as Dan Yashinsky or the reader, and heard by all children, young and old.

From The Golden Apples, by Dan Yashinsky, illus. by Ekaterina Khlebnikova

Once upon a time–imagine a true storyteller like Dan Yashinsky saying this with an evocative, spirited voice– there was a king, a queen, and their three sons. When golden apples appear on a tree in their garden, and they disappear before the king can enjoy them, he sends his sons out, one at a time, to locate the golden-feathered bird which Jack, the youngest, had witnessed taking them. Both older boys succumb to temptations along the way, but Jack heeds the advice of a benevolent fox and discovers the bird. Unfortunately, Jack too is foolish in that he disregards some directives and lands himself in trouble. Still, he is offered opportunities to get himself out of trouble by undertaking yet another task.

From The Golden Apples, by Dan Yashinsky, illus. by Ekaterina Khlebnikova

Unfortunately, each task requires him to steal something. And each time, he ignores a piece of advice from the fox who tries to help him be successful. From the golden bird to a golden-maned horse, and a princess with beautiful eyes, Jack verges on getting things right until he doesn't. Still, this is Jack, the "hero" of many tales of folklore, so it all works out in the end, even if with a few twists along the way.

 

Dan Yashinsky, founder of the Toronto Storytelling Festival, knows how to tell a story. Whether it is in person or in written form, Dan Yashinsky keeps listeners and readers captivated, waiting for the next scene, the next conflict, the next laugh. He makes us want to find out what happens next, without padding his stories with filler to draw them out. Readers will quickly realize that Jack is the son often disregarded and the one who, with a little help and some cleverness, is able to surpass the minimal expectations others have of him. This may be familiar to some children who feel undervalued in families or in the classroom, but it offers them hope that they can achieve with perseverance. Still Dan Yashinsky makes Jack real with his ineptitude–come on, Jack, listen to the fox!–and unintentional fumbles but with a good heart. (In the end, he does something very difficult and heart-breaking that comes to a good end.)

From The Golden Apples, by Dan Yashinsky, illus. by Ekaterina Khlebnikova

I think Christmas is a great time for storytelling, as families gather around, perhaps in the aftermath of a big meal or as children are settling down before sleep. And The Golden Apples, told as Dan Yashinsky wrote it, with heart and verve, will bring everyone together. With the added dimension of Russian artist Ekaterina Khlebnikova's illustrations, a blend of different media that add depth and whimsy–like Nirvana and Metallica posters on the princess's walls, or Jack's headphones-wearing brother–The Golden Apples also has colour, humour, and texture. The Golden Apples may not be a Christmas story, but it would be a fine story to tell this holiday season or anytime a great tale is called for.

We Belong Here: Interview with author Frieda Wishinky and illustrator Ruth Ohi

We Belong Here

Written by Frieda Wishinsky

Illustrated by Ruth Ohi

North Winds Press (Scholastic Canada)

978-1-4431-9403-7

32 pp.

Ages 6-8

October 3, 2023

Reviewed here 

 

 

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of reviewing an important picture book, We Belong Here, about intolerance and kindness. Today, I have the good fortune of sharing with readers a bit more about the book and the creative process through this Q & A with its author Frieda Wishinsky and illustrator Ruth Ohi.

 

Helen Kubiw:  Whether it be the 1950s, the setting for We Belong Here, or now, there are always those who distrust others who are different, whether in their appearance, their cultures, their faith, language, or something else. Why do you think this still hasn’t changed?

Frieda Wishinsky:  That’s an important question. I think some people are afraid or uncomfortable with anyone who is different because they haven’t had the experience of getting to know them. I grew up in New York City where there were always people around from different cultures and backgrounds. I felt comfortable and curious about that difference. I loved the diversity of food, customs and experiences but I think that some people who live in places which lack diversity, feel afraid of what and who they don’t know.

 

Ruth Ohi:  We have a long way to go, but I feel it has changed: I believe there’s been progress. I’d like to see the interest in making things better continue to grow the way I think it already has.

HK:  I suspect those children who demonstrate intolerance, including those in the book, are often doing so from observing their own families expressing that same bigotry. While We Belong Here demonstrates the value in getting to know those who are different, how do think it’s possible for those children to rise above their learning when they’re seeing the worst at home?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  I hope this story and friendship of Eve and Mark will help kids and their families appreciate that although we are different, we are also alike. No one likes being called mean names. Everyone wants to feel appreciated. And being in touch with people from different cultures makes life richer and better. Being open to change and new people makes us less fearful and happier. 

 

 

 

HK:  The note at the end of the book suggests that the book came about through discussions that you had about your family histories. Once you decide that this was going to become a book, how did the collaborative process work?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  Over two years ago Ruth and I had coffee and shared our family histories. We talked about how Jewish and Japanese people faced discrimination after the war. I said, "If I can figure out how to write that theme of connection and help as a picture book, would you illustrate it?”  Ruth said yes. Now all I had to do was write the story. Not so easy! The story couldn’t be about adults. It had to focus on kids.

     It took me over a year and a half to figure out how to create a story about two kids from different places and cultures who help each other in difficult times.
     When I finally felt pretty good about my text, I passed it on to Anne Shone at Scholastic. Anne had worked on many books with both Ruth and me. Anne liked what I’d written but made some suggestions. After more revision, the text was approved by everyone at Scholastic. Ruth could now begin to illustrate.

     I didn’t see the story with its art till it was almost a finished book. Ruth and I did have a few discussions about historical accuracy, tomato sauce vs. beets, and adding in a carved wooden sculpture but we worked separately.
     Seeing the finished book was a delightful surprise. I loved how Ruth added evocative and touching art to the story and theme. I think her art highlighted and elevated my words. 

Ruth Ohi:  Once Frieda’s manuscript was accepted by Scholastic Canada, she and I communicated through our editor, Anne Shone. I read the text many times so that the characters could move about in my imagination for a bit. I then created page breaks and tiny thumbnails to see how action and pacing could work. I researched the 1950s to immerse myself in the time and sent research elements and resulting rough layouts to Anne. Sketches were drawn and redrawn many times with feedback, until approvals were given to begin final art.

Rough sketch by Ruth Ohi from We Belong Here

 

HK:  I appreciate the fact that both of you were able to contribute familial background history to the story of We Belong Here. I like that, by bringing the two together through Eve and Mark, you were able to produce a story of discrimination defeated by kindness. But, in your own family stories, did kindness always conquer the unfairness of intolerance?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  During the early days of World War Two, my mom met the wives of two Polish Generals when they were all jailed by the Russians as political prisoners. (My mom’s offense was a German sounding last name) These women, Yadviga and Zhosha, treated my mom as a sister, although they came from different religions and backgrounds. The three of them helped each other survive the harshness of a Russian prison for two years. Yadviga and Zhosha also promised my mom that if they were released, they would make sure she was released too. When the Russians changed their political alignment, the Polish women were released, and they got my mom out of jail the next day. Yadviga and Zhosha then opened a children's home in Russia for kids whose parents had been sent to Siberia. My mom worked there till the end of the war.  My mom was a natural storyteller and told me what happened to her in those terrible years. I never forgot the kindness and humanity of these two women.

 

Ruth Ohi:  My Dad was one of the first Japanese Canadians to be allowed to teach in Toronto. He was also a guidance counsellor. Leafing through photos, he’d tell me stories about his wonderful students and the staff that he worked with then and throughout his career.

 

 

HK:  How much of the story includes actual events that took place, like the shop, the rock, and the taunts, and how much is fictionalized but based on stories told within the family?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  The core of the story, that a Jewish family helps a Japanese family, is true. The rest is fiction. We did incorporate elements from our lives in the book though. For example, I was an imaginative kid who loved climbing up on some rocks in a NYC park. My dad carved a beautiful crane out of wood. My dad was a baker and made rugelach.

 

 

HK:  For each of you, what was the hardest part of creating this story?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  The hardest part for me was taking a true story and a general theme and creating a picture book that was universal and kid focused.

 

Ruth Ohi:  One of the hardest parts for me was also one of the most interesting as I had the chance to research the 1950s: fashion, cars, buildings, packaging, life in general. Anything I illustrated needed to actually exist. Everyone helped: Frieda sent family photos, my art director Andrea sent some men’s hairstyles, and Anne found a cake plate that inspired a spot illustration.

 

 

HK:  While many of your picture books, like Fox and Squirrel have important messages about compassion, empathy, emotional support, your books generally have a light-hearted innocence to them that veils those important lessons. How did you approach illustrating We Belong Here knowing that a story of children coping with discrimination could not be couched in sweet and colourful animal characters?

 

Ruth Ohi:  I think Frieda’s story has a sweet innocence as well. My author/illustrated picture books have a lot in common with We Belong Here as they tend to focus on the role of empathy. When finding friends who look different from you, it doesn’t always matter from a young child’s perspective whether it’s an animal or not. I love that there are so many different ways of viewing the world for a child to choose from. My book Scribble is a celebration of what makes us different. Three very different looking shapes (Circle, Square & Triangle), with the help of a non-shape friend, discover how much you can accomplish using your differences. Fox and Squirrel is a celebration of what makes us alike. The series is based on two very physically different animals who discover that they have a lot in common i.e., they both need to eat and sleep and like to play.
     Looking back, I think my author/illustrated stories reflect my childhood – someone who looked very different from everyone else in their class (I also wore a metal back brace for over four years for my scoliosis) and was figuring out their place in the world. I never set out to teach a lesson when I write a story, but do enjoy hearing that they help kids and spark conversations about empathy.

 

 

 

HK:  I know that We Belong Here is not your first picture book of a fictional account of a historical event. Your own Kenta and the Big Wave (2013) deals with the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Japan, and Joy Kogawa’s Naomi’s Tree (2008) deals with the internment of Japanese-Canadians during WW2. How do you approach illustrating a book of historical relevance and are there certain challenges you need to address?

 

Ruth Ohi:  Like Frieda’s story, research was required for both. The interiors and houses in Kenta and the Big Wave came from photos taken during my visits to Japan with my Dad and then later with my husband and my own kids. Kenta’s dog is the Ohi’s Shiba Inu that my daughters got to walk. It was an honour to illustrate for Joy and great to finally meet her at the launch, do a library session together and hear her say that she loved my illustrations. She is so gracious and kind. I feel very lucky in the authors I’ve been able to illustrate for.

 

 

 

HK:  I had thought it was unusual for an author and an illustrator to query a book together (unless the author is the illustrator). How did you get the publisher to accept a submission with both text and illustrations?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  We were lucky that we’d both published a bunch of books with Scholastic and we’d both worked with Anne Shone. Scholastic knew our work and we were happy this story resonated for them. Plus it’s great that I’m Jewish and Ruth’s background is Japanese so we could bring each of our cultures into the story authentically.

 

 

HK:  Do you see a follow-up book or perhaps a companion book that takes the perspective of an older Eve and Mark as teens or as parents themselves, or perhaps a story of a different kind of discrimination experienced by others?

 

Frieda Wishinsky:  I hadn’t thought of a follow-up book, but I’d love to do another book with Ruth. Now all I have to do is think of a story that she might like illustrating!

 

Ruth Ohi:  I’d love to illustrate another Frieda story. Anyone who gets to illustrate one of her manuscripts is very lucky indeed.

• • • • • • •

Many thanks to 

author Frieda Wishinsky and illustrator Ruth Ohi 

for the privilege of asking them questions 

about their new book We Belong Here. 

As a story, it has great depth in its history and its lessons, 

and both Frieda and Ruth have brought insight and heart to it.

I hope this interview shares all that with you, my readers.

• • • • • • •

Garden of Lost Socks

Written by Esi Edugyan

Illustrated by Amélie Dubois

HarperCollins

978-1-443464734

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

September 2023 

Sometimes when you go looking for something that's lost, you find something else. And what's better than finding a friendship for one who looks for things with one who writes about things he finds.

Akosua calls herslef an exquirologist because she can find anything, though her family might think that what she often finds is trouble. When Akosua meets Max, he is struggling, having lost one of his favourite socks, a yellow, green, and red sock with black stars. Though Max loves finding stories from around his neighbourhood and recording them in his notebook, whether it's discovering a dog allergic to humans or a girl who would perform as a waterspout in a play, finding that missing sock has been a challenge. Fortunately, exquirologist Akosua offers to help.

From Garden of Lost Socks, written by Esi Edugyan, illus. by Amélie Dubois

The two children go in search of the AWOL sock, starting at Max's home and then venturing out to the laundromat, the barbershop, and even to the park. They find a variety of socks, some as decorations, as on a hot air balloon, and some in different versions, like as wrapping around trees. But nowhere do they find Max's missing sock.

From Garden of Lost Socks, written by Esi Edugyan, illus. by Amélie Dubois

They do find other amazing things which Max records enthusiastically. Ultimately, Akosua uses her keen observational skills to follow a clue and discover the location of the lost sock, only to realize that Max needs it less than someone else.

The convergence of Akosua and Max in Garden of Lost Socks demonstrates that sometimes things and people that appear very different are actually meant to be together. Akosua seems like a bit of a dynamo, an extrovert who puts herself out there. Max, on the other hand, seems more inside his thoughts and his words, sitting quietly on his stoop, considering his options and his stories. By questioning him, Akosua begins a conversation that brings the two together, as unlikely as that might have been originally. (And to think Akosua's brothers suggest she has difficulties finding friends.) Finding that lost sock may have been their original mission, but they find so much more in their search, from new stories to new friends.

From Garden of Lost Socks, written by Esi Edugyan, illus. by Amélie Dubois

Though many fans of CanLit will know Esi Edugyan as a two-time Giller winner, Garden of Lost Socks is her first children's picture book. But, if Esi Edugyan shows a comparable curiosity to that shown by her young characters–illustrated by Quebec's Amélie Dubois–then I foresee more heartfelt literary explorations for young readers. Esi Edugyan's story on its surface is a simple one with two children of different strengths coming together for one purpose and finding more than expected. But like the two children whose eyes see well but differently, whether with analytic or artistic sight, Garden of Lost Socks is more than a story of looking for a sock. It's a story of finding friends without looking and working with your own strengths. It's cheering for diversity in personality and in purpose.

Amélie Dubois, whose art was first seen by this reviewer in A World of Mindfulness (2020), has an incredibly light touch. Searching for a lost sock might not seem a big deal but, to a child, missing a favourite anything is a very big deal. Still Amélie Dubois does not emphasize the angst or the frantic nature of a search for a missing object but keeps it more exploratory than hunt. They walk, they look, they ask, and they delve, but they do not panic, and they are not intrusive. Instead Amélie Dubois takes us on our own journey of discovery, from a laundry where a tutu shares a line to dry with an astronaut suit and a safety suit of orange and yellow, to a doorstep where dozens of shoes rest, and to a park of flowers, knitted tree protectors, and animals. Her lines produced by the strokes of her coloured pencils emulate the movement of the kids in their own quest while giving the story an airy texture.

 

The world is a garden of lost socks, from a laundry to a drawer, to a park or a nest, but Esi Edugyan reminds us that finding one sock may just be the start of something far greater.

Kimmy & Mike

Written by Dave Paddon

Illustrated by Lily Snowden-Fine

Running the Goat, Books & Broadsides

978-1-927917398

32 pp.

Ages 5-9

March 2021 

I'm sure siblings Kimmy and Mike have had some pretty extraordinary adventures on the sea but even I find it hard to believe how a simple fishing outing could become a round-the-world trip of danger and folly. But that's a tall tale for you. See what you believe in this narrative poem and tall tale from Newfoundland and Labrador's Dave Paddon.

It has often been said, and I can't disagree,

That there's no one as tough as our folk of the sea.

But two of the toughest, if the rights was known,

Were Kimmy and Mike, who lived in Belloram.

So begins the tale of Kimmy and Mike who go fishing on order from Mom to "Get something for the pot!" Unfortunately, their best fishing spot lands them only a few sculpins and kelp so they scull around the Gulf and the Straits and elsewhere before deciding they need to cross the pond i.e., the Atlantic Ocean.

From Kimmy & Mike by Dave Paddon, illus. by Lily Snowden-Fine

Not only do they cross the ocean, they pass through two hurricanes, declaring the 90-knot winds and 60-foot waves to be "a bit of a lop", and catch a small submarine and a squid with 60-foot arms and a 30-foot head. But, throwing both back, they head southward towards the Cape of Good Hope where they encounter a 100-mile iceberg which they cleave with an axe, before Kimmy fights off some pirates single-handedly.

From Kimmy & Mike by Dave Paddon, illus. by Lily Snowden-Fine

Then there's the merman named Saul and a visit to Australia, New Zealand and Hawaii before their mother finds them. Having taken out their father's old punt, she's been doing her own fishing and intends to continue on, sending the twins home.

She said, "Get on home out of it, through the Panama Canal,

And make your father his tea–you know he's not well.

I'm just going to dart 'round Cape Horn while it's light

And stop into Rio for bingo tonight."

From Kimmy & Mike by Dave Paddon, illus. by Lily Snowden-Fine

The twins eventually make it back home, after a stop at the Galapagos and tunnelling beneath the Panama Canal, while their mother, having won a jackpot in Rio and salting and drying her plentiful catch, returns the next morning.

Readers will finish the rhyming story of Kimmy & Mike with a smile upon their faces, envisioning the twins' exploits and the extent of their travel. (This would be a fun geography lesson, especially when coupled with math to determine the probability of this all happening in one day.)  It could even become a ballad if set to music, with its rousing story, melodic nature of ups and downs, highs and lows, and big moments. Add a fiddle, an accordion and maybe an ugly stick and you got a kitchen party going. With this tall tale of fisherfolk, Dave Paddon takes us to Newfoundland and Labrador, to the people who have stories to tell, who use a language of their own (I had to look up several of the words like crousty, stage and sooky in the "Glossary" provided) and try to outdo each other with their tongue-in-cheek stories.

With Lily Snowden-Fine's gorgeous gouache artwork to complement Dave Paddon's story, though, Kimmy & Mike goes beyond just a folk tale. It may have the whimsy that is often associated with folk art but there is a refinement in Lily Snowden-Fine's lines and shapes that make each illustration a work of art, stark but refined, colourful and resonating with the spirit of the Newfoundland and Labrador. 

In the tradition of the recitations, which Dave Paddon discusses in his "Afterward," Kimmy & Mike's fishing adventure would win any kitchen storytelling contest, for its rhyme, plot and artwork. I only wonder what Kimmy and Mike, and their mother, will get up to next time because, you know, there will be another story to tell.

Screech! Ghost Stories from Old Newfoundland: Virtual book launch and storytelling event

Author Charis Cotter

 

who has brought young readers creepy stories, true and imagined, in her numerous books

 

is getting everyone ready for Halloween with

 TWO spooky events.

 

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First,

 

she is launching her latest book

 

Screech! Ghost Stories from Old Newfoundland

Written by Charis Cotter

Illustrated by Genevieve Simms

Nimbus

978-1771089067

156 pp.

Ages 8-12

August 2020

 

on Tuesday, October 27, 2020

at

8 PM NL (6:30 PM EDT)

 

with

• a reading from the story "The Ghosts of Pushthrough"

• a chat with artist Genevieve Simms about her illustrations in the books

and

• signed book giveaways

 

Although the event is free, you will need to sign up at
https://www.facebook.com/events/763834864396397

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

 

Second,

Charis Cotter will be telling a story from

Screech! Ghost Stories from Old Newfoundland

 

at the St. John's Storytelling Festival, 

Mythic Beasts
Virtual Storytelling on YouTube

on

 

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

at

7:30 PM NL (6 PM EDT)

You will also need to sign up for this free event at
https://www.facebook.com/events/1260137937677869/

(Note: Although these events are organized on Facebook, you don't have to be on Facebook to sign up! Just follow the links.)

 

 

Happy Halloween

courtesy of Charis Cotter!

 

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The Playgrounds of Babel

Written by JonArno Lawson

Illustrated by Piet Grobler

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-036-1

32 pp.

Ages 5-10

August 2019

From JonArno Lawson, the author of the award-winning Sidewalk Flowers (illustrated by Sydney Smith, Groundwood, 2015), comes another important story about differences and communication that demonstrates we are far less disparate than appearances may suggest.

From The Playgrounds of Babel by JonArno Lawson, illus. by Piet Grobler

The story begins with a kerchief-clad woman telling a story to a group of children. Her language, in the hand-drawn speech bubbles, is a series of lines, dots, and shapes. One boy translates for his friend, who clearly does not understand the woman, and so begins an updated version of the Tower of Babel biblical story. The dark-haired translator shares how at one time everyone spoke the same language until they attempted to build a tower to reach God. In response, God sent a dragon to destroy the tower and confounded their speech into many different languages. The boy's fair-haired friend interjects about not believing in God and knowing there's no dragon in the story but his friend persists. He focuses his story, or rather the woman's story, on two girls who suddenly cannot speak to one another.

From The Playgrounds of Babel by JonArno Lawson, illus. by Piet Grobler

Amidst their crying at this turn of events, the girls hug and realize that the songs they'd sung before could be the commonality they need. Though the words are different, they now "had a way to translate, because they knew they were singing exactly the same thing in two different languages."

From The Playgrounds of Babel by JonArno Lawson, illus. by Piet Grobler

Author JonArno Lawson explains the origins of his story in his Author's Note and, while it has a personal foundation from his own childhood and from the inquisitiveness of his own daughter, The Playgrounds of Babel extends far beyond these sparks. It speaks to the opportunities our differences provide to make our world richer not weaker. Throughout the story, a variety of languages are "spoken" from the birds who speak in terms of berries or caterpillars and snakes who speak in Ss as well as backward Ss. Everyone has a language that may be different from another but still allows them to communicate. Even in the world from which the boys and storyteller speak, there is more than just the words. There is imagination and the need to suspend disbelief and to see that God could whistle for a dragon to return to the heavens.

South African artist Piet Grobler provides the illustrations that blend harshness with wonder in a story within a story. I like that the contemporary setting from which the boys and the storyteller speak is dark and stark, until the end, and the world of the two girls is colourful and diverse. It reminds us that the storyteller brings the richness of colour to a story, even if it's one based in conflict or difficulty. Using watercolour and ink (including the dip pen to produce lines of varying thickness), Piet Grobler contrasts the two worlds and changes the reader's perspective repeatedly.

The Playgrounds of Babel has a powerful message about communication and differences but it's also about telling stories and realizing that anything can be real if we believe.

A Box of Bones

Written by Marina Cohen

Roaring Brook Press

978-1-250-17221-1

288 pp.

Ages 8-12

May 2019

Sometimes people need lies. Little lies to help them deal with truths that are too huge and too difficult to face. (pg. 273)

Twelve-year-old Kallie is only interested in facts and the organized and logical world that she and her father, who works in risk management for an insurance company, live in. She has no appreciation for the arts, turning her nose up at music and seeing stories as "ugly little lies wrapped in pretty packages" (pg. 59), going so far as to refer to her dead mother only with disdain as "The Writer." Unfortunately, the world seems to want something different for her than she expects.

While at the buskers' Festival of Fools with her Grandpa Jess, Kallie is handed a small puzzle box seemingly made of bone. After much work to open it, nine smaller cubes fall out of the box, each with its own unique image. Strangely, no matter how she drops these cubes, they always land in the same order: an animal, a goblet, an oval with holes, a castle, a cylinder with flames, a coffin, a skull, a long pointed object, and a blank. Soon, Kallie's life, thrown off kilter by a new imaginative student named Anna and by secrets she is learning regarding her mother's death, is following a path based on those bone images, starting with a strange animal with amethyst eyes that appears to her.

Interspersed with Kallie's story is one of Liah, a bone carver's apprentice. In her story, distinguished to the reader by its italics font, Liah and the bone carver are heading to the evil Empress's palace to sell his carvings, travelling through an ancient forest haunted by those whose bones were buried without ancestral care. Heedless of the bone carver's warnings, Liah removes a skull, hopeful of carving something special from it. But their foray into the palace becomes something dangerous for the bone carver and Liah after a Lie-peddler they meet confronts the Empress with his stories.

There is such a thing as too much truth. (pg. 272)

How Kallie's and Liah's journeys are related is only revealed at the end of Marina Cohen's latest middle grade novel but they are entwined, both learning that

...a good story never really ends. It lives on inside you forever (pg. 222)

and that truths and lies are not very different, both necessary and still tenuous.

While Marina Cohen does creepy middle-grade really, really well–do check out several of her earlier novels such as The Inn Between (2016) and The Doll's Eye (2017)–A Box of Bones tells a great mystery without worries of keeping young readers up at night. There are eerie bits, both in Kallie's and Liah's stories, but they add to the mysteriousness, demonstrating that not everything is straightforward, logical or expected, just like life, and that stories give life as well as honour it.

Girl of the Southern Sea

Written by Michelle Kadarusman

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-081-9

224 pp.

Ages 8-12

May 2019

This is the story of Nia, a girl who lives with her five-year-old brother Rudi and their father in a tin shack along the train tracks of Jakarta, Indonesia. Though at fourteen she has finished middle school, she craves to continue her education, but there is no extra money for the school fees needed for high school. Instead she works to tend to the family: getting her brother to and from school, making meals, cleaning, and preparing batter for their father's fried banana cart. Sadly, it also means bringing her father home from nights of drinking arak (an alcoholic drink) at Jango's hut and cleaning up after Bapak's poor choices. Still Nia tries to see a future, hopeful of saving money for school and writing stories about Dewi Kadita, the Queen of the Southern Sea, who offers life lessons and the promise of a better life from dire circumstances.

But, with any story, there are plot twists and conflicts that challenge characters and wrench the narrative from a smooth path to a satisfying terminus. For Nia, it's a minibus crash from which she alone survives essentially unscathed. In a culture rife with superstitions and a predilection for supernatural stories, Nia's survival is seen as a miracle and consequently their banana fritters attributed with being infused with good luck. But how fortunate is Nia truly?

This is the basis for Michelle Kadarusman's story of Nia, but I cannot convey the depth of the storytelling within Girl of the Southern Sea and it's message for girls to make their own opportunities. (A portion of the book's proceeds go to Plan International Canada's #BecauseIAmaGirl campaign.) Even dealing with her father's alcoholism and weakness of character, and inherent vulnerabilities because of poverty and alarming cultural and social attitudes, Nia is driven to continue her education and write her stories. She stands up for herself–"I am not your promise to give." (pg. 196)– and makes sure that her life becomes the story she wants told.

I am here to live a different story. I am here to write my own story. (pg. 202)

There are so many tragedies in Nia's story that come when others try to impose their lives on her circumstances. There are the corrupt police who assault her father; her best friend Yuli who may be involved in illicit activities as a way to improve her conditions; vigilantes who turn on Nia violently when the good luck they purported she peddled was proven to be lacking; and her father who is willing to choose his own needs over those of his children. Still Nia takes guidance from her mother, via dreams, and from Dewi Kadita, the princess cursed with disfiguring skin conditions relieved only in the Southern Sea, and begins to make a life for herself. Its origins may be saturated in misfortune and tragedy but it will become the story she wants to write for herself and make her the Girl of the Southern Sea.

Paseka: A Little Elephant, Brave : Book launches (BC)

Join 

author Ruth James 

and 

illustrator Kent Laforme 
(Studiostone Creative)

for multiple events to launch

their picture book

 Paseka: A Little Elephant, Brave

Written by Ruth James

Illustrated by Kent Laforme

Page Two Books

978-1-989025-42-0

32 pp.

Ages 5+

May 2019
Reviewed here

Thursday, May 2, 2019
 7 p.m.
Kidsbooks
2557 West Broadway
Vancouver, BC

Monday, May 6, 2019
10:30 a.m. 
Salt Spring Island Public Library
129 McPhillips Avenue
Salt Spring Island, BC
(n.b. illustrator Kent Laforme will not be at this event)

Saturday, May 11, 2019
2 p.m.
Courtenay Public Library
300 6th St.
Courtenay, BC

Saturday, May 18, 2019
1 p.m.
Indigo at Mayfair 
Mayfair Shopping Centre
Victoria, BC

There will be

a reading of the story and craft activities, 
including finger puppet and diorama creation,

and a special photo station with 
a life-sized Paseka illustration

Books will be available for sale and signing.


I reviewed this lovely picture book yesterday here 
and 
emphatically recommend you attend one of the BC launches, 
if you can.
🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘