Last year it was trees; before that birds, bees, and bears; now it’s all about hearth and home. Check out these seven picture books on the topic plus the Guide subject: Dwellings for even more recommended titles — it’s a full house! See also intern Jake’s recent blog post about moving household for more house-related reading.

Time for Bed, Old House
by Janet Costa Bates; illus. by AG Ford
Preschool    Candlewick    32 pp.    g
9/21    978-1-5362-0998-3    $16.99

Can you put a house to bed? Grandpop can. Isaac, a young Black boy who is happily visiting his grandfather — but reluctantly sleeping over — says he isn’t sleepy when Grandpop tells him it’s time for bed. “Then stay awake,” Grandpop quips, “but it’s time to put the house to bed.” As they walk through each room, turning off lights and closing windows, Isaac hears unfamiliar noises that Grandpop explains, allaying the child’s fears. The clicking sound is just pet dog Snuffles, the Airedale, following them; the creaking is the wind blowing the swings around outside. In Ford’s rich-hued, warm-toned illustrations, books appear in nearly every room of the house, highlighting the centrality of literacy to this family and foreshadowing what will come next. The two settle into a big comfy chair near Isaac’s bed, and when Grandpop suggests a bedtime story, Isaac protests that he hasn’t yet learned to read. “I bet you can read pictures…Just tell me what you see on each page.” And he does. The accompanying illustration suggests that Keats’s The Snowy Day is that bedtime story, a mirror book for Isaac; but unlike that book, African American creators crafted this story, and Ford (Brown Baby Lullaby, rev. 3/20) celebrates Black joy with close-ups of Isaac’s deep brown face, button nose, and locked or twisted hair. A fine, uplifting intergenerational tale of literacy, literature, and homemade love. MICHELLE H. MARTIN

Farmhouse
by Sophie Blackall; illus. by the author
Primary    Little, Brown    48 pp.    g
9/22    978-0-316-52894-8    $18.99

Blackall brings herself and her artistic process into this (imagined) story of twelve siblings who grow up in a real-life farmhouse that was situated on a property Blackall owns. The text is one long sentence with the cadence of a chant, giving the story a propulsive feeling while the family goes about the many repetitive chores required to keep a large household running in a time before electricity. Blackall’s illustrations are everything here, incorporating wallpaper, fabrics, and other items scavenged from the house melded together with ink, watercolor, gouache, and colored pencil to create vibrantly layered compositions with a tactile quality. Landscape spreads echo the curves and patterns of Virginia Lee Burton’s similarly themed classic The Little House, and interiors are depicted in cross-sections, as if readers are peeking inside a dollhouse. Eventually the children grow up and move away; the house, now empty, deteriorates, and new life — raccoons, a tree, a bear — moves in. Blackall devotes the last few pages to her own discovery and exploration of the dilapidated structure and how she created the art that shapes this story of a place “where twelve children were born and raised…where they’ll live on, now, in this book that you hold, like your stories will, so long as they’re told.” ADRIENNE L. PETTINELLI

The House Next Door
by Claudine Crangle; illus. by the author
Primary    Groundwood    40 pp.    g
8/21    978-1-77306-368-3    $19.99

A remote farmhouse survives the seasons alone, closing its back shutters against the strongest winds. When a new house is built nearby, the house shutters that side of itself, too, the better to ignore the interloper. As more homes are built — an entire neighborhood, in fact — our solitary protagonist shuts itself off entirely. Eventually, though, it realizes that the surrounding dwellings are providing it shelter, with their presence protecting against snowdrifts and harsh winds. Even better, warm light comes from the windows at night, and friendly curtains flutter. The house discovers that the new neighbors are “big and small, beautiful, strange, solid, cobbled, high, low, narrow, wide, elegant and fascinating.” Crangle’s dramatic illustrations effectively convey the original dwelling’s isolation as it sits small and square in one corner of a double-page spread. Wide, dark shadows fall across the pages as it fears the changes in its environment; as it discovers the good in its new surroundings, the house’s emotional shifts are reflected in light-filled, bright-colored pages. Each house is a three-dimensional creation made from cardboard, paper, fabric, and wood, with alluring textures and colors. This is a child-friendly, approachable, and useful story that can serve as a springboard for conversations about fear of change — and the embrace of it. MAEVE VISSER KNOTH

Build a House
by Rhiannon Giddens; illus. by Monica Mikai
Primary    Candlewick    40 pp.    g
10/22    978-1-5362-2252-4    $17.99

In near-singable text, musician Giddens (co-founder of the Carolina Chocolate Drops band) brings to life a lyrical tale of Black trials, triumphs, determination, and home. A Black father, mother, and daughter ride in a horse-drawn wagon driven by a white man. The text begins: “You brought me here / To build your house…And grow your garden / Fine,” and then once the house is standing and the cotton ripens, the white man tells the family, “GO.” They build a house for themselves — “but you said I couldn’t / Build a house / And so you burnt it… / DOWN.” The family remains united and determined through these violent setbacks and makes music together, the mother playing banjo and the father violin, but white people even steal their song. Finally, they rebuild on their own land; the daughter becomes the narrator and echoes her parents’ words, now defiantly her own: “You brought me here / To build a house / And I will not be moved.” Mikai’s warm-toned digital illustrations, awash in blues, greens, and browns, portray the family members’ closeness to the land and their steadfast commitment to land ownership — also emphasized by the girl’s carrying a young sapling she’d planted from a seed everywhere they go. In the end, her tree’s leaves and branches span a joyous double-page spread. An afterword describes the story’s autobiographical roots (“I am proud to be a banjo-playing descendent of the Afro-Carolinians who, against all odds, made a culture and built a home and survived, so I could thrive”) and directs readers to an online recording performed with Yo-Yo Ma to commemorate Juneteenth. MICHELLE H. MARTIN

A House
by Kevin Henkes; illus. by the author
Preschool    Greenwillow    32 pp.    g
9/21    978-0-06-309260-0    $18.99
Library ed.  978-0-06-309261-7    $19.89

Meet a house created out of simple forms and sturdy lines and nestled within a bordered square in a solid pastel blue space. The text (“A house”) is placed on the page opposite the image, centered in abundant white space. As we turn pages, images and text alternate between recto and verso as the background colors shift. The house remains our focus throughout as elements around it change: we see the house in the morning, at night, with the sun, with the moon, in rain and snow, and more. Henkes uses the question-and-answer format to invite readers into the story (“Where are the puddles? Which one is biggest?”), and the questions prompt discussions about concepts such as shapes, the passage of time, counting, weather, colors, and size differences. When a family (complete with a dog and cat), rendered as simply shaped toy figurines, approaches and enters the house, it becomes a “home.” While perfect for children at the very earliest stages of literacy, the book also works as a read-aloud to share with toddlers. Phrases and sentences are plainly constructed (“Where is the sun? Is it up?”), and illustrations and text work in concert to engage readers and listeners. The pacing and palette are gentle; the compositions are uncluttered and eye-catching; the style conveys Henkes’s (2020 winner of the Children’s Literature Legacy Award) signature elegance; and the ending will have children pondering precisely what makes a “house” a “home.” Brilliant. JULIE DANIELSON

The Mouse Who Carried a House on His Back
by Jonathan Stutzman; illus. by Isabelle Arsenault
Preschool    Candlewick    48 pp.    g
8/22    978-1-5362-1679-0    $18.99

Vincent is a peripatetic mouse who carries a small house, in the form of a die-cut hole, on his back. He temporarily settles atop a small hill, where he knows “he needed to be.” When a series of animals — a bullfrog, a cat, hedgehogs, badgers, etc. — appear, all needing a place to stay, they can’t believe they’ll fit in Vincent’s house. But it turns out that the small house is bigger on the inside; better yet, it keeps expanding. As each new animal moves in, a new house appears on the hillside, reinforcing the sense of community and spaciousness; readers are eventually treated to a delightful double gatefold revealing an entire neighborhood of symbolic homes, each one somewhat resembling the creature it represents. After an indoor feast, a bear appears. The other residents recoil in fear, but Vincent declares, “In my house, all animals are welcome.” Stutzman’s text possesses a subtle humor, including the use of the phrase “one by one by one by one by one by one by one” to refer to the number of creatures who seek shelter. Arsenault’s textured illustrations, filled with rewarding visual details and surprises at nearly every page-turn, bring to life the snug interior world of Vincent’s home. A warm, welcome, and satisfying read. JULIE DANIELSON

Goodbye, Old House
by Margaret Wild; illus. by Ann James
Preschool, Primary    Blue Dot Kids    32 pp.    g
9/21    978-1-7362264-5-2    $17.95

A child named Sam says a fond and very thorough goodbye to their house in the country (“This is the last time I’ll fish in this river”; “This is the last time I’ll swing on this gate”; “Goodbye, old house. Goodbye”), then reverses the process upon arrival at a new house in the city (“This is the first time I’ll jump over these cracks”; “This is the first time I’ll push open this gate”; “Hello, new house, hello”). The symmetry of Wild’s text, with its mirror-imaged farewells and greetings, is effective and emotionally satisfying. Unlike most picture books about moving, this one has a distinctly upbeat vibe, thanks mainly to James’s striking illustrations, “brush and ink drawings with acrylic gouache backgrounds combined digitally.” Even as Sam says goodbye to beloved places and animals and activities and individual rooms of the old house, the mood conveyed in the illustrations is predominantly light and airy, with Sam’s body language occasionally feeling almost Sendakian, à la A Hole Is to Dig. The child dances in doorways, smiles at a pony while giving a goodbye pat (and the pony appears to smile back), etc. With the protagonist portrayed in black-and-white against richly colored backgrounds, the viewer’s eye always knows where to focus. Details are childlike and relatable. For instance, in the old bedroom we see poignant writing on the wall: “Sam lives lived here.” In the new house we see Sam taking ownership, happily sprawled across the “comfy window seat” of the new bedroom and writing, “Sam lives here now.” MARTHA V. PARRAVANO

From the August 2022 issue of Notes from the Horn Book.