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For a list of books mentioned in this issue, see link
below.
Masthead art © by William Steig, used with permission
of Pippin Properties, Inc.


In this issue of Notes, the Horn Book presents Fanfare, its
annual choices for the best books of the year. From the more than four
thousand books reviewed in The Horn Book Magazine and Guide,
we chose twenty-three, ranging from books for the very youngest (Ten
Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes, Dinosaur vs. Bedtime)
to those that offer a challenge for older teens (Tender Morsels,
The Kingdom on the Waves).
Selected by the editors and reviewers of The Horn Book Magazine,
the Fanfare list is not meant to be representative of anything beyond
excellence, but I like that this year’s list has a little bit
of almost (alas, no poetry or folklore) everything: fantasy, realism,
hard books, easy books, read-alouds and read-alones.
What do we mean by best? The books chosen for the Fanfare list are
those that demonstrate creative excellence and outstanding achievement
in writing and illustrating for young people. Some of the books on this
list are or will be widely popular with children; others will speak
to a dedicated few. No book on this list is for every child, but we
hope there is something here for all, just in time for holiday shopping
— and reading.

Roger Sutton
Editor in Chief



Best
books for preschoolers
On our list are five picture books that have toddlers’ and preschoolers’
keenest interests in mind — and that parents can happily read
(“Again! Again!”) over and over.
In
Mem Fox’s Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes, illustrated
by Helen Oxenbury, a sequence of adorable pairs of babies join a growing
multiethnic playgroup, the refrain reinforcing what they all have in
common: “And both of these babies, / as everyone knows, / had
ten little fingers / and ten little toes.” Snuggle up with your
favorite baby and kiss those fingers and toes to both your hearts’
content. (1–5 years) 
A
little witch girl and her cat catch all the ghosts in the house, wash
and dry them, and find good uses for them in Kazuno Kohara’s Ghosts
in the House! The smiling curtains, grinning tablecloth, and, of
course, peacefully sleeping bed sheets are the perfect ending to a cheerful
story not limited to Halloween reading. (3–6 years)
Who
Made This Cake?, written by Chihiro Nakagawa and illustrated by
Junji Koyose, features a horde of tiny workers using equally tiny yellow
construction vehicles to make a gigantic (to them) birthday cake for
a young boy. Trucks, frosting, and a cast of characters that look like
Playmobil figures — that’s a combination no preschooler
can resist. (2–5 years)
In
Bob Shea’s boldly designed Dinosaur vs. Bedtime, a little
red dinosaur takes on the world, from a pile of leaves (“ROAR!”)
to a big slide (“ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!”) to a plate of spaghetti
(“ROAR! CHOMP! CHOMP! ROAR! ROAR!”). Only one challenge
manages to overwhelm our tired hero — but come morning, he’ll
be roarin’ to go again. (2–5 years)
Kevin
Henkes’s Old Bear celebrates the yearly surprise of changing
seasons, as a hibernating bear dreams about his cubhood in four glorious,
vividly colored spreads: spring pinks and purples, summer blues and
greens, autumn reds and yellows, winter blues and whites. Everything
about the book is in sync with the story’s soft, subtle nature
and theme of change. See our interview with Kevin, just below. (3–6
years)
—Jennifer M. Brabander

Five
questions for Kevin Henkes
Kevin
Henkes’s first book, All Alone (1981), was accepted for
publication when he was just nineteen. Since then, he’s won accolades
— and readers’ hearts — for his picture books featuring
memorable mice characters (Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse,
Sheila Rae, the Brave, Owen, etc.). Recently
Henkes seems to have refocused on All Alone’s preschool
audience with picture books such as Kitten’s First Full Moon
(winner of the 2005 Caldecott Medal) and Old Bear, a Horn Book
Fanfare choice this year.
1. Where did
Old Bear come from?
It’s always difficult to pinpoint exactly where books come from,
but this much I can figure out — for years I’ve wanted to
do a young picture book about the seasons, and I’ve also wanted
to do a book about dreams. Separately, the ideas never amounted to much.
But then they combined, somehow, successfully in Old Bear.
During the early writing stages of Old Bear (before he was
a bear), I stumbled upon a box of plastic animals in our basement. My
kids had outgrown the animals, but I hadn’t been able to pass
them on for sentimental reasons. As I sorted through them I found several
bears, and I thought that bears would be fun to draw. At that moment
things clicked for me. Hibernation, the changing of the seasons, dreams
— the pieces of this particular book puzzle began to fall into
place.
2. As your
own children get older, your picture books are getting younger. What
has prompted you to return to doing picture books for preschoolers?
Doing
young picture books is a way to deny that my kids are getting older!
But seriously, one book simply leads to another. When my son was a baby,
I became interested in board books. I did five of them. Those led to
Kitten’s First Full Moon. And Kitten led to
A Good Day and Old Bear. But so much of the process
is hidden even to me, the creator.
3. What are
some of the key differences between creating a book like Old
Bear and creating your mouse books?
When I create a book like Old Bear, I try to be as simple
and spare as possible. I don’t use dialogue, nor do I develop
character in the same ways that I do in my mouse books. And yet, the
concerns are the same — to keep everything tight and to think
deeply about all aspects of bookmaking, including pacing, design, composition
of individual illustrations, and type choice.
4. Old Bear
spends most of the book asleep, but he has these wildly imaginative
dreams — so the book is both calm/predictable and energetic/unpredictable.
Just like preschoolers! Did you take young kids’ essential natures
into account when you set up the book that way?
I knew from the start that Old Bear would be for young kids,
but I wasn’t thinking specifically of the nature of preschoolers
when I set up the structure of the book. I was only interested in making
a piece of art that worked for me. I did intend for the dream sequences
to be bright, colorful, fantastic islands dropped into the reality of
Old Bear’s world. And I wanted the dreams to fit into that reality
nicely and to flow smoothly from one sequence to the next. That’s
why, in the spring spread, I’ve drawn Bear napping in a crocus,
echoing back to the previous page showing Old Bear asleep. The flowers
of spring presage the summer sun, which is a daisy. The strong diagonals
of the summer rain lead into the strong diagonals of the autumn tree
trunks. And so on . . .
5. We are obviously
big fans of Old Bear, but we think parents will also want to
know: have we (sob!) seen the last of Lilly?
I hope with all my heart that Lilly will resurface. I’ve got
a few ideas, none of which have worked out yet. I remind myself that
ten years passed between Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse
and Lilly’s Big Day.
I wrote a Lilly book in a white heat shortly after Lilly’s
Purple Plastic Purse was published. My then-editor, Susan Hirschman,
wisely said something like, “I don’t think this is good
enough for you. Anyone would publish it and it would do very, very well.
But in the long run, I don’t think you’d be happy.”
I keep those words as a guiding principle. When and if I can make
it good enough, Lilly will be back. 
—Martha V. Parravano



Best
picture books for the early grades
Our picture book choices
this year examine the strength of friendships and the power — and
responsibilities — of imagination.
In
Lynne Rae Perkins’s The Cardboard Piano, Debbie is disappointed
when her best friend Tina does not share her love of playing the piano
— especially after she makes Tina a cardboard replica to practice
on at home. With word-balloon dialogue and intricate pen-and-ink and
watercolor illustrations, Perkins addresses a common childhood situation
with her usual nuance. In the end, it’s fine that Debbie and Tina
don’t share everything: as in all friendships, “mostly it
evened out.” (5–8 years) 
In
Traction Man Meets Turbodog, Mini Grey’s sequel to Boston
Globe–Horn Book Award winner Traction Man Is Here!, Traction
Man and his faithful companion Scrubbing Brush return for more adventures.
After an excursion up “Mt. Compost Heap,” however, Scrubbing
Brush lands in the trash and Turbodog — an annoying electronic
pup — replaces him. The witty cartoon panels follow Traction Man
on his mission to rescue Scrubbing Brush and deliver the message to
“never give up!” when it comes to friendship. (5–8
years)
Allan
Ahlberg’s The Pencil, illustrated by Bruce Ingman, features
a pencil who draws into being a boy, a dog, a cat, a family, and all
the things they need. When his creations start to complain (“My
ears are too big”), he draws an eraser to take care of their dissatisfactions,
but the thuggish eraser threatens to destroy the whole world. Can the
intrepid pencil draw his way to a solution? Ingman’s free-wheeling,
faux-childlike illustrations are the perfect accompaniment to the energetic,
provocative text. (5–8 years)
—Chelsey Philpot



Best
fiction for middle graders
Three exceptional novels
give middle-grade readers a lot to think about: illness and death, living
life to the fullest, and finding your place in a family. At the same
time, they all feature moments of genuine laugh-out-loud humor and unforgettable
characters.
Twelve-year-old
narrator Ted, who has Asperger’s syndrome, and his older sister,
Kat, watch their cousin get on the London Eye Ferris wheel. But when
the ride ends, Salim is missing. How did he disappear, and where is
he now? Ted’s hyper-logical brain puzzles through The London
Eye Mystery, in which author Siobhan Dowd places well-embedded
clues young readers can follow as she ratchets up both the tension
and our affection for Ted. (9–12 years) 
Sally
Nicholls’s Ways to Live Forever is a heartbreaking
yet joyful story about a dying child. Sam, age eleven, has leukemia.
He keeps a journal of his final months, spent trying to achieve life
goals (walking up a down escalator, seeing Earth from outer space)
and asking such “Questions Nobody Answers” as “How
do you know that you’ve died?” Nicholls creates a character
and a world that is buoyant, honest, deeply moving, and entirely stripped
of sentimentality. (9–12 years)
Readers
who have grown up with Hilary McKay’s Casson family may be sad
to find themselves at the end of the series. It’s great consolation,
then, that Forever Rose is so satisfying. Eleven-year-old
Rose (the youngest, the artist, the reluctant reader) narrates this
story, which combines spillover issues from previous books with new
(messy) relationships, challenges, pleasures, and — whoa! —
two big surprises. (9–12 years)
—Elissa Gershowitz

The year’s best young adult fiction featured strong-minded protagonists
dealing with issues of mortality, morality, and identity in breathtakingly
varied ways. From the American Revolution to a near-future dystopia,
these six novels offer up uniquely memorable worlds and characters readers
will be reluctant to part from.
By
turns hair-raising, humorous, and touching, The Graveyard Book,
a coming-of-age tale with a twist, follows young Nobody Owens’s
formative years growing up in a cemetery, raised by (mostly) kindly
ghosts. Neil Gaiman’s dreamlike prose has a true storyteller’s
tone and cadence, and his tale is as bittersweet as it is action-filled.
(12 years and up) 
Kate
Thompson follows up her ingenious 2007 fantasy The New Policeman
with this year’s The Last of the High Kings. The sequel
continues to draw upon Irish lore and trickster tales, as the son and
fairy-changeling daughter of Policeman protagonist J.J. (now
grown) must protect the world from ancient anarchic spirits. This is
both warm family story and rollicking fantasy. (12 years and up) 
Survivor
meets “The Lottery” as Suzanne Collins, author of the popular
Underland Chronicles, returns with what promises to be an even better
series. The Capitol requires each of its twelve districts to send two
teens to an annual TV reality show from which only one will emerge victorious—and
alive. With addictive twists and turns and a tough-as-nails heroine,
The Hunger Games is a compulsively readable blend of science
fiction, survival story, unlikely romance, and social commentary. (12
years and up) 
Terry
Pratchett’s Nation is the story of two young teens: Mau,
the sole survivor and de facto leader of his island nation after a devastating
tsunami, and Daphne, daughter of a British aristocrat and the sole survivor
of the shipwreck that lands her on Mau’s island. Separated by
language and culture, the two form a star-crossed friendship as they
rebuild their shattered conceptions of humanity, spirituality, and the
nature of the world. Funny, wrenching, and powerfully emotional. (12
years and up) 
With
The Kingdom on the Waves, M. T. Anderson finishes the saga
begun in the Boston Globe–Horn Book Award and National Book Award
winner The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the
Nation, Volume I: The Pox Party. Octavian, an escaped slave with
a classical education, joins the British Army when Lord Dunmore promises
him his freedom in exchange. Anderson continues to skewer historical
hypocrisies as he brings his sweeping opus to an unforgettable close.
(14 years and up)
Margo
Lanagan, Australian author of such evocative short story collections
as Black Juice, makes her U.S. novel debut with the brutal,
haunting Tender Morsels. Lida, raped repeatedly by her father
and by village youths, retreats with her two daughters to a parallel
world without aggression, fear, or pain — until strangers begin
to breach its borders. The story of how Lida finds her way back to a
full life is painful but ultimately triumphant. (14 years and up)
—Claire E. Gross



As any parent of a dinosaur-lover knows, an allegedly “too hard”
book whose subject is of interest to a reader will pull that reader
right up along with it. Here are our choices for the best nonfiction
of the year, each selection suited for a wide range of ages.
With
its easygoing, intimate text and celebratory watercolors, Janet Schulman’s
Pale Male: Citizen Hawk of New York City, illustrated by Meilo
So, is both nature study and social history, at home on a junior birder’s
bookshelf as well as the toniest of Upper East Side coffee tables. (6
years and up)
Christo
and Jeanne-Claude: Through the Gates and Beyond offers yet another
view of a moment in Central Park history, when “seventy-five hundred
and three shimmering saffron panels” graced the park’s walkways.
Authors Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan are superb explicators of contemporary
art, and this is one of the most beautifully designed books of the year.
(9 years and up) 
1600
Pennsylvania Avenue provides the setting for a lavishly illustrated
and engagingly informative compendium of history. Our White House:
Looking In, Looking Out commands the talents of more than one hundred
children’s authors and illustrators to tell the story of this
national landmark and its inhabitants. (9 years and up) 
In
The Lincolns: A Scrapbook Look at Abraham and Mary, Candace
Fleming uses an abundance of reproductions of primary sources, textual
and visual, to bring to life the sixteenth President and First Lady.
This is among the very best of the many books published in anticipation
of the bicentennial of Lincoln’s birth. (9 years and up)
That
Lincoln’s cause was not completed in his lifetime, or even century,
is evidenced by Kadir Nelson’s magisterial We Are the Ship:
The Story of Negro League Baseball. The collective “we”
of the narrative voice honors all the league’s players and provides
plenty of play-by-play to draw readers in; full-page oil paintings elevate
the players into heroes. (9 years and up)
For
the pre-pre-med or just more-than-ordinarily curious, David Macaulay
offers entrée into The Way We Work: Getting to Know the Amazing
Human Body. The book is technical but engrossing, its explanation
of human biology and anatomy blessed with hundreds of the artist’s
eye-opening and brain-expanding drawings and diagrams. (12 years and
up) 
—Roger Sutton

 

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