Young narrator Willow, portrayed with brown skin, lives in a seaside town whose pastel buildings are sheltered by lush greenery. Willow’s pale-skinned friend Aspen, a poet, wears a red beret, while Willow, who sports a large sun hat, enjoys spending time in the greenhouse with chicken Eulalia, an “excellent assistant.” It’s in the greenhouse one day that Eulalia finds a small, sickly plant. Across naif-style spreads loosely stroked in petit-four greens, lavenders, and pinks, Maijala (Rosie Runs) shows the children pondering the plant’s origin. They name it Raisin after the hero in one of Aspen’s poems, who vanquishes the frightening sea serpent Sampi via a “daring game of cards.” When the plant continues to languish, the children transport Raisin and Eulalia to the seashore. Then, one night, Willow takes Raisin into the moonlight, encouraging the plant (“Raisin might be small but was still mightier than the Sampi”), an act that leads to the discovery of Raisin’s remarkable secrets. Conflict barely ripples this winding, cozy story about adopting a living thing and taking steps to see to its needs. Ages 5–9. (July)

Reviewed on 03/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

Ho (We Who Produce Pearls) and Ren (Night Market Rescue) team up for a kawaii-styled look at cultural belonging that features bubble teas as protagonists. In tradition-steeped Milk Tea Town, “residents prided themselves on their subtle shades of brown, quality ingredients, and classic milk tea flavor,” standards that the whole community upholds. But the birth of Mindy, a boba baby displaying bands of green, white, and pink, heralds a generation of multihued beverages that “many thought were questionably probably not quite milk teas at all!” Wanting to be “milk tea enough,” Mindy takes classes and researches the beverage’s multifaceted history, only to find that “the most classic milk tea flavor is one that keeps on changing.” Tea-oriented puns (a tea ancestor’s running away with a pudding “caused quite the stir”) pepper this message-forward read that includes historical beats. Bright mixed media and digital art foregrounds anthropomorphized boba cups that feature tapioca-ball eyes. Contextualizing comics panels and creators’ notes conclude. Ages 4–8. Author’s agent: Caryn Wiseman, Andrea Brown Literary. illustrator’s agent: Jennifer Rofé, Andrea Brown Literary. (June)

Reviewed on 03/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

The companionable relationship between a human protagonist and a blue heron forms the buoying heart of this wonder-filled work from Kaufman (All Are Welcome). First-person narration begins at daybreak as a brown-skinned child sporting galoshes carefully approaches regal avian Blue: “I tiptoe,/ rush.../ and pause...// ...echoing Blue’s stillness.” Before long, the unlikely pair frolics among a shoreline’s reeds, rejoicing in play (“We are wild./ We are free...”). Multimedia art has a loose, calligraphic quality as scenes cast in inky blues are illuminated with light emanating first from a warm, buttery sun and then a glowing, oversize moon. At sunset, “with an incredible leap and a mighty flap,/ Blue takes flight,” leading to a few hopeful beats and a starry, soaring adventure for both creatures that lasts until the child’s human body demands descent (“Up high, the air is thin and cold”). When it’s time to “say good night/ but not goodbye,” visual details (a costume, a mobile, a stuffy) tucked into closing domestic scenes leave the evening’s events open to interpretation, making for a meditative wish-fulfillment fantasy that leans into both adventure and security. Ages 4–8. (June)

Reviewed on 03/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

In lusciously stroked spreads, Myers (Children of the Forest) paints two children on the rooftops of facing brick buildings, a clothesline strung between them. As they wave at each other and their caretakers peg laundry on the line, another sort of washing rolls through behind them: building an extended metaphor, Kooser (Marshmallow Clouds) describes various cloud types as celestial laundry hung out by the skies. One sky “was unpinning its damp sheets/ of cirrus from a frayed airplane contrail” as another “hurriedly wadded up socks, T-shirts,/ and underpants of cirrocumulus and stuffed them/ into a basket woven of sunbeams.” Reflected altocumulus, on-the-move cumulus, and more cloud types scud into view in artful illustrations that show magnificent, billowing clouds dwarfing the buildings and the children. As the sky darkens, “dragging a heavy drop cloth of stratocumulus,” a storm blows in. Far from driving the children inside, the weather gives rise to a new connection, eventually visualized through another dazzling phenomenon that arcs between their buildings. Dramatic visual storytelling incorporates layers of power and feeling throughout a work that neatly, playfully illuminates cloud forms and their scientific descriptors. Characters are portrayed with various skin tones. Ages 4–8. (July)

Reviewed on 03/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

Set 40 years after the events of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, this heart-wrenching novel from Collins centers a 16-year-old Haymitch Abernathy and his role in the climactic 50th Hunger Games. Though readers will know him as Katniss and Peeta’s ill-tempered, alcohol-dependent mentor during the 74th games, young Haymitch is a sweet-natured, responsible teen working hard to support his widowed mother and younger brother. In his free time, he attends to his sweetheart, Lenore Dove, a singer with a rebellious streak, who is one of the Covey, a group of formerly itinerant musicians. Then Haymitch is selected to compete in the second-ever Quarter Quell. His mother’s parting words—“Don’t let them paint their posters with your blood”—become his North Star as he balances the necessity of performing for the Games with maintaining his integrity and morality. As the Quarter Quell commences, Collins utilizes searing, precise language to vividly depict what each party—the tributes, the Capitol, and the districts at large—stands to lose and how these Games’ aftermath will come to shape the events of the original trilogy. Excerpts from Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”—peppered throughout Haymitch’s first-person narration—heighten the story’s emotional resonance. It’s a brutal tale of compassion and rage, and a frank examination of propaganda and tragedy, that will satisfy longtime series fans and newcomers alike. Ages 12–up. (Mar.)

Correction: The text of this review has been updated for clarity.

Reviewed on 03/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

A child struggles to find a fitting Mother’s Day card as Fraser’s lines rhythmically describe the way none of the cards resemble the child protagonist’s parent: “If there was just one card to show/ Mom with her gold necklace, bangles/ and earrings.” As the narrator expresses a bespoke vision for an ideal card, Mom comes further into focus via energetic scenes of her selling pakoras at the mela, dancing the bhangra, and more. Yellow highlighting lends Kapur’s digitally painted pencil drawings a sunny look that suits the child’s bright-eyed appreciations. Though a store-bought card with Mom’s “happy brown face smiling sweetly at me” never materializes, a DIY alternative results in an affirming ending. Protagonists cue as South Asian; background characters are portrayed with various abilities and skin tones. Ages 4–9. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 03/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

A child’s investigation into the many different words for mother opens up the world of languages in this cross-cultural reflection. A pajamaed narrator begins, “When I wake up, the first person to greet me is my mother”—known as Amma, in Malayalam. Playing with bilingual friend Angelina, whose family is from Mexico City, the narrator learns that Mamá is the Spanish word for mother. And through other friends, the protagonist learns how mothers are addressed in countries around the world. The canvaslike surface of Jomepour Bell’s heavily textured mixed-media illustrations are a backdrop for crisp-edged mothers and children dancing, crafting, baking, and celebrating throughout this fond accounting of maternal monikers. Characters are portrayed with various skin tones. Language facts conclude. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

Two pale-skinned children compete to prove that “my dad is the best,” in this goofy tale of one-upmanship. After an exaggerated opening gambit (“My dad can pick up... a truck!”), things quickly escalate as the kids continue to up the ante until cumulative lines achieve a pinnacle of absurdity (“My dad can pick up a truck filled with elephants pregnant with triplets on top of a skyscraper”). The mood softens after disastrous results predictably ensue, with the dads modeling a camaraderie that leaves everyone blushing with happiness. Playing with scale, Turu’s casual cartoon-like sketches echo Pintadera’s over-the-top storytelling via depictions of the protagonists that feature enlarged heads and upper bodies. A plain white backdrop places an emphasis on the kid-orchestrated antics and the warm sentiments that eventually emerge. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

Amid “tired and tears,” a new mother sits next to a sleeping newborn, a cup of tea in her hands: “I am discovering how to pause/ and sit with what is.” Across this serene meditation on caretaking, Verde sets the stage for actions that nurture parent as well as child, modeling self-talk and other practices that might help smooth first weeks and months: “I can be easy on me/ and show you how to be/ easy on you.” Digitally finished multimedia paintings by Stoop show mother and child in a warm city apartment that aptly presents the chaos of early days with an infant—heaping laundry, a sink filled with dishes. As well as caring for the child, the new mother seeks community with others “who also are called Mommy and Baby.” And as the baby matures, the mother grows into the role, the name “wrapping us both in love.” An author’s note concludes. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

From waking until bedtime one Sunday, corgis Mama and Max remain at each other’s side in this agreeable portrait of intergenerational attachment. Anchored by the mundane, plotting centers simple childhood delights: after helping Max get dressed and serving a blueberry-pancake breakfast, Mama cycles with Max to the park, where the two play hide-and-seek, picnic, chat, and nap. When Max’s training wheel breaks during their return, he determinedly learns to ride and later excitedly shares the news with Papa (who’s otherwise something of a bit player). In Sudovykh’s painterly illustrations, the canines are clad in sweaters and jeans, adding a humorous appeal to the story. A nighttime routine of dinner, homework, bathing, and bed-time book-reading rounds out the “wonderful day” in this cozy snapshot of dog devotion. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/21/2025 | Details & Permalink