Children's books for summer ☀️
Can we read? Special edition: Summer
SUMMER!
In the past three weeks we’ve had the heat on, the air conditioning on, and put two extra blankets back on the bed post-air conditioning because we really should have turned the heat back on but refused (and thus woke up to a 57-degree house several days in row). This is how summer arrives in Wisconsin — all at once, a manic leap into the 80s, and then at least one flip-flop, a few temporary changes of mind. I hate the heat but I do relish the consistency of the sunshine, which feels like a benediction and an invocation — an acknowledgement of all we’ve been through to get to this point and a summoning of good energy, of life and more life before it all starts to fade again.
(18 days til the solstice and the days begin to shorten, but who’s counting.)
This issue marks the first time I’ve come full circle on this newsletter: the first special edition I ever wrote was summer of last year, ye olde 2020, knee-deep in the pandemic (without any knowledge we’d get thigh-deep and waist-deep and neck-deep) and not yet at my wits’ end but awfully close. Follow that link for reviews that are much more succinct than the ones I write now 🤔 I stand by all of them! love all of them! reread all of them! but everything below is new for summer 2021.
As usual I’ve put together a booklist for you on my Bookshop.org storefront — if you make purchases from my list, Books for Summer (or any other), you’ll be directly supporting independent booksellers as well as me (it’s a tiny commission, but every little bit helps me acquire more titles to review here — for which I thank you).
In truth, Hello, Lighthouse by Sophie Blackall is one of our very favorite (if not #1) title for summer, but given its popularity, you probably know it already — so I skipped it to devote space to books you might not be familiar with. (If you don’t know Hello, Lighthouse — here, I’ll even link to it for you — I cannot possibly recommend it enough.)
Alright, let’s dive in! 🤿 (Finally, a perfect emoji match.)
Pie is for Sharing by Stephanie Parsley Ledyard, illustrated by Jason Chin (2018)
When I think of my summer book bin — I have seven such seasonal storage bins, which you can peek at in the January issue of (How) Can we read? if you’d like to see an example — this is always the first title that comes to mind. It’s the story of a pie — well, first a pie and then a book and then a ball, and so on — all of which hangs together in a larger narrative about sharing. Not everything that is shared is tangible: the reader learns that in addition to sharing a boat one can share the stream it’s floating on, in the addition to sharing a towel one can share the light of the sun that warms it. Chin’s watercolor and gouache illustrations show all this activity and then some — he somehow manages to capture not only the emotions present here but also the spirit of the season: the play and togetherness, the friendship and the fun. If this all sounds a bit simplistic, perhaps it is — but its simplicity enhances the poeticism (of the prose and the idea) as well as distills the essential message: that summer is for sharing what you have, how you feel, who you are. Some things — even seasons — are just better together.
City Green by DyAnne DiSalvo-Ryan (1994)
“There used to be a building right here on this lot.” The building is no longer there, however — the city condemned it, tore it down, and “now this block looks like a big smile with one tooth missing” (I love this simile so much). Thus begins the compelling story of a young gardener — a girl named Marcy who, along with her older neighbor, leases the empty lot and plants a community garden. Di Salvo-Ryan’s prose and expressive illustrations rendered in watercolor, pencil, and crayon share equal credit in telling this tale — she shows all the activity, all the neighbors helping neighbors, all the coming-together the garden enables — and it’s a rich telling. There are myriad challenges in this book — garden problems to solve as well as a curmudgeonly, naysaying neighbor whose feelings about the garden are mixed up with his grief over losing the building where he used to live — which makes this an especially wonderful read about hope, community, generosity, and being the change you wish to see in the world. Highly recommended.
Jabari Jumps by Gaia Cornwall (2017)
Jabari Jumps has a special place in our hearts as one of our favorite summer books — not only because it depicts a pool, which we really only get to experience for a few months of the year if we’re lucky, but because of the story in which we can see a bit of ourselves: excited about something, but also a little afraid.
Here, on a visit to the pool with his father and his little sister, Jabari makes a big decision right from the start: “I’m jumping off the diving board today… I’m a great jumper, so I’m not scared at all.” That’s…not quite the truth. Through actions more than words, the reader understands Jabari’s nervousness — the ladder is long and tall, and Jabari is not at all sure he’s ready. He lets other kids go before him in line. Once he does start climbing the ladder he feels tired and decides instead to take “a tiny rest.” He realizes he forgot to do his stretching and so must do that. Alongside Jabari’s clear apprehension is his patient father, a supportive witness to his son’s struggle, who eventually steps into all the stalling and says, “It’s okay to feel a little scared. Sometimes, if I feel a little scared, I take a deep breath and tell myself I am ready. And you know what? Sometimes it stops feeling scary and feels a little like a surprise.” These turn out to be the magic words for Jabari, who musters his bravery and his self-talk and JUMPS in a moment of such palpable triumph it’s hard not to fist-pump while reading it. Cheers all around for Jabari’s accomplishment, but far more than that, cheers to his dad — if a more loving portrait of a father holding space for his child exists, I’m unaware of it. Cornwell’s writing (and message about courage) is spot-on and her pencil, watercolor and collage illustrations complement it all perfectly, but the best part of this book is the total acceptance of one little boy’s feelings and how it frees and empowers him. Would that we could all experience a gift such as this.
Raven and The Tide Lady adapted by Pauline Duncan, illustrated by Michaela Goade (2018)
Before I say anything about this title I want to point out that it was adapted by Duncan from the works of the late Nora and Dick Dauenhauer, who transcribed it from Tlingit elder Susie James’ oral accounts. I learned this from notes at the back of the book as well as the Sealaska Heritage website, where I was digging around trying to figure out how to correctly attribute it. The foreword of my copy tells me “these stories are owned by the Southeast Alaska Natives.” Goade, the illustrator, is Tlingit herself, making this a unique own voices story, not so much because its creators are of the same people, but because such care has been taken to be specific about its origins.
I like this level of specificity very much, as it makes it much easier to assess whether or not this is a book I want to share with my children. In this case, the moment I saw this book the answer was yes: it is visually gorgeous — the Tide Lady’s face and movements are so passionate and stirring (see page spread below) the prose seems almost secondary. Almost. In this Raven story — Raven is another trickster in a long oral lineage — we meet “a little old lady who [controls] the tide,” never allowing it to get low enough for Raven to eat. Raven enlists the help of mink, who brings a sea urchin shell with which Raven fights the Tide Lady — literally, hitting one another with shells and sticks — until he wins out. The tide goes out but the water gets too low, and in order to avoid this happening again, Raven decides to strike a deal with the Tide Lady: from now on the tide will rise and fall, allowing everyone to access the food they need.
This is a beautiful ancient story full of the importance of living in harmony with one another, and I’m so glad that it has been adapted as a picture book in a way that preserves and honors the traditions and heritage of the people it came from. I highly recommend this captivating read.
Note: this book cannot be found on Amazon or Bookshop.org. I bought it online from Birchbark Books, where it appears it is no longer available. You can order it directly from Sealaska Heritage. (Unless you hail from the Pacific Northwest I am willing to bet none of your library systems have it, so this would be a good one to request for purchase.)
Hands and Hearts by Donna Jo Napoli, illustrated by Amy Bates (2014)
If you’re looking for a gentle, sweet story about a day at the beach, look no further than this special mother-daughter tale: told very simply (the narrative is less a story and more a lovely description of what is happening on each page), what makes this a standout title is the American Sign Language included on every page (see images below). The reader never learns whether it is the mother or the daughter who is deaf (or both!) but it doesn’t matter: what comes across clearly is their joy in one another’s company and the fun they have together at the beach. Bates’ pencil and watercolor illustrations are breathtaking and perfectly match the sensitivity with which Napoli, a linguist and deaf activist, has approached the writing of this title that includes deaf characters. It’s a short read, but you’ll stop on every page to attempt to sign — a pleasant interactive experience that is rare among books that feature ASL (most of them focus on learning/explaining signs rather than integrating them holistically into the story). This is one worth checking out and spending some real time with.
The Ugly Vegetables by Grace Lin (1999)
I’m a big fan of Grace Lin — I reviewed my favorite of her books, When the Mountain Meets the Moon, in issue No. 32 — but I am less familiar with her picture books than her middle grade novels, so I’m glad I found this one.* The Ugly Vegetables is Lin’s first published book (it’s still in print!) and is based on her real childhood memories of her mother’s garden — where they grew Chinese vegetables, while their neighbors, to young Grace’s embarrassment, all grew flowers. “The wind always smelled sweet, and butterflies and bees flew everywhere. Everyone’s garden was beautiful, except for ours.” Grace (she is never named in the book) struggles with her complicated feelings and complains to her mother, who counsels her to be patient and wait and see what they reap. When their crop finally comes up — ugly vegetables all — Grace and her mother harvest a wheelbarrow full, bring it all to the kitchen, and cook up a variety of traditional Chinese delicious so delicious-smelling that all the neighbors close their eyes, “smelling the sky.” Grace’s mother invites everyone in to eat, tells them what each ugly vegetable is, shares her soup recipe and sends them home with leftovers — starting a trend of Chinese vegetable-growing that spreads throughout the neighborhood in years to come.
Complete with a guide to the Chinese pronunciation of the veggies as well as a recipe for “ugly vegetable soup,” this is a story about culture, acceptance, and gratitude, with lasting appeal. (Lin’s bright, cheerful illustrations are also, always, just pure fun.) The ways in which cultural traditions can make us feel like outsiders will resonate to varying degrees with different readers, but can’t we all — even our children — relate to the ways in which our parents sometimes embarrass us? (I laugh just thinking about this.)
If you have babies and toddlers in your life, don’t miss Lin’s other gardening book, Up to My Knees, which is part of the wonderful “Storytelling Math” series (there are 11 books appealing to various ages in the series; Lin contributed four board books).
*Lin is a powerhouse producer of content — in addition to writing and illustrating all kinds of wonderful books she has two podcasts, runs an Etsy shop, does virtual school visits, and hosts a website chock-full of resources (games, crafts, writing, drawing, cooking), all worth checking out.
Mudpies and Other Recipes by Marjorie Winslow, illustrated by Erik Blegvad (1961)
This book tells the reader very clearly, in the first two sentences of the forward, what it is: “This is a cookbook for dolls. It is written for kind climates and summertime.” And that is what is is, but that description also does a poor job of explaining just how inventive, entertaining, and downright hilarious this little book is.
You are not going to sit down and read this book straight through — it’s not a picture book, it’s not a read-aloud, it’s a cookbook in the truest sense, in that you dip into it, looking for what you need, finding other interesting bits, feasting on it all. The recipes — categorized like a normal cookbook into courses, complete with Suggested Menus — are not lists of ingredients but rather narrative directions:
Seesaw Salad
Follow the recipe for Tossed Leaves, but add the following: a pinch of crushed dry leaves, a fistful each of pine needles and red berries, and two fistfuls of little pine cones. Sprinkle over all a generous amount of sawdust, then turn the hose nozzle to a fine spray and wave it twice over the bowl. Arrange yourself on a seesaw with the bowl in front of you and a friend at the other end. Toss the salad this way as long as it’s fun, or until well blended. Serve on large plates.
It’s hard to aptly convey the charm of this book except to say that it’s so imaginative, so deeply delightful, I emit small squealing noises and giggles very unlike me every time I read it, and I often can’t keep it to myself — my husband has listened to me read aloud many of these recipes, as I’ve pulled this title from my summer bin over the years, and it never gets old (at least to me — I’ve decided not to ask his opinion).
If you have a kid who enjoys outdoor play, get this book. If you have a nature lover, get this book. If you have an adult friend who likes quirky things, get this book. If you just want to sit and laugh (or spark wacky ideas) with the children in your life, get this book. Winslow had me at “cookbook for dolls.” It’s adorable beyond words.
Also highly recommended
Splash, Anna Hibiscus! by Atinuke
Poppy's Babies by Jill Barklem (a Brambly Hedge book, though not part of the seasonal series)
The Mermaid by Jan Brett
The First Strawberries by Joseph Bruchac
Rain Play by Cynthia Cotten
Swashby and the Sea by Beth Ferry
The Color of Us by Karen Katz
The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear, illustrated by Jan Brett
Please, Puppy, Please by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee (I reviewed this in issue No. 5)
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
Flossie and the Fox by Patricia K. McKissack
Natsumi's Song of Summer by Robert Paul Weston
Blue on Blue by Dianne White
Quick as a Cricket by Audrey Wood (I reviewed this in issue No. 4)
Weather
Tap Tap Boom Boom by Elizabeth Bluemle
The Cloud Book by Tomie dePaola
Sometimes Rain by Meg Fleming
Waiting Out the Storm by Joann Early Macken
Come On, Rain! by Karen Hesse
One Dark Night by Hazel Hutchins
Time of Wonder by Robert McCloskey
Thundercake by Patricia Polacco
Clouds by Anne Rockwell
Ocean, lighthouses, beach, boats
The Real Boat by Marina Aromshtam
Captain Jack and the Pirates by Peter Bently (If you like this one, check out King Jack and the Dragon, which I reviewed in issue No. 29)
Comet’s Nine Lives by Jan Brett
D.W. All Wet by Marc Brown
The Burgess Seashore Book for Children by Thornton Burgess (chapter book for older readers or read-aloud)
Water Sings Blue: Ocean Poems by Kate Coombs (poetry)
There Might Be Lobsters by Carolyn Crimi
The Snail and the Whale by Julia Donaldson
In the Swim by Douglas Florian (poetry)
If You Want to See a Whale by Julie Fogliano
Come Again, Pelican by Don Freeman
The Pirate Pig by Cornelia Funke
In My Ocean by Sara Gillingham (for babies)
Gillnetter Girls by Mollie Ginther
Birdie’s Lighthouse by Deborah Hopkinson
The Fisherman and His Wife, retold by Rachel Isadora
Moominpappa at Sea by Tove Jansson (chapter book for older readers or read-aloud)
My Ocean is Blue by Darren Lebeuf
The Sandcastle that Lola Built by Megan Maynor
Burt Dow, Deep-Water Man by Robert McCloskey
One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey
The Sandcastle Contest by Robert Munsch
Seaweed Soup by Stuart J. Murphy (a good living math book about matching sets/one-to-one correspondence)
Cyrus the Unsinkable Sea Serpent by Bill Peet
Kermit the Hermit by Bill Peet
Baby Beluga by Raffi (a singing book)
Curious George at the Beach by Margret and H.A. Ray
At the Beach by Anne Rockwell
The Storm by Cynthia Rylant (and the rest of the eight-book Lighthouse Family series)
All You Need for a Beach by Alice Schertle
Seashore (One Small Square) by Donald Silver (nonfiction science)
Jules vs. the Ocean by Jessie Sima
Kate’s Light: Kate Walker at Robbins Reef Lighthouse by Elizabeth Spires
Amos and Boris by William Steig
The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge by Hildegarde Hoyt Swift
The People of the Sea by Donald Uluadluak
Flotsam by David Wiesner (wordless)
A Beach Tail by Karen Lynn Williams
The Seashore Book by Charlotte Zolotow
Poetry
From the Bellybutton of the Moon: And Other Summer Poems / Del Ombligo de la Luna: Y Otros Poemas de Verano by Francisco Alarcon (one of a seasonal bilingual poetry series called The Magical Cycle of the Seasons)
Flower Fairies of the Summer by Cicely Mary Barker
Flower Fairies of the Trees by Cicely Mary Barker
Sail Away by Langston Hughes
Dark Emperor and Other Poems of the Night by Joyce Sidman
A Stick is an Excellent Thing by Marilyn Singer
Especially for babies and toddlers
Pippa and Pelle in the Summer Sun by Daniela Drescher (part of the Pippa and Pelle seasonal series)
Goodnight Sweet Butterflies by Melanie Gerth
Ten Little Ladybugs by Melanie Gerth
On My Leaf by Sara Gillingham
Ten Magic Butterflies by Danica McKeller
Hello Summer! by Shelley Rotner
The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and The Big Hungry Bear by Don and Audrey Wood
For older readers, or for read-alouds
The Little Grey Men by B.B.
Hickory by Palmer Brown (I reviewed this in issue No. 16)
Moominsummer Madness by Tove Jansson
The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly
Harriet’s Hare by Dick King-Smith
Bayou Magic by Jewell Parker Rhodes (the third in The Lousiana Girls trilogy)
The Summer Party by Cynthia Rylant (one of The Cobble Street Cousins series)
The Wainscott Weasel by Tor Seidler
One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia (the first in the Gaither Sisters trilogy)
Everything else
The Grey Lady and the Strawberry Snatcher by Molly Bang (wordless and very weird but worth it)
The Quiet Way Home by Bonny Becker
The Curious Fish by Elsa Beskow
One-Dog Canoe by Mary Casanova
Bubbles...Up! by Jacqueline Davies
In the Tall, Tall Grass by Denise Fleming
The Princess in Black Takes a Vacation by Shannon Hale
The Raft by Jim LaMarche
Summertime in the Big Woods (My First Little House Book) by Laura Ingalls Wilder
The Camping Trip by Jennifer K. Mann
Trout, Trout, Trout: A Fish Chant by April Pulley Sayre
Granddad’s Fishing Buddy by Mary Quigley
The Listening Walk by Paul Showers
Ice Cream Summer by Peter Sís
Backyard Fairies by Phoebe Wahl
ICYMI
For a list of recommended titles about insects, pollinators, and some insects that are also pollinators, see Ten Titles on Tuesday: 4/13/21.
For a list of recommended titles about gardening, see Ten Titles on Tuesday: 5/25/21.
Thank you for reading. I hope you and your family have a summer as happy and carefree as two kids making Seesaw Salad.
Sarah
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