Being a grown-up can be fun

In comedian Weird Al Yankovic's picture book debut, When I Grow Up, eight-year-old Billy enthusiastically discusses his many (mostly improbable) career options, from "snail trainer" to "friendly mortician" to "giraffe milker." The app adaptation (HarperCollins, June) takes this tale a step further—augmenting Weird Al's text and Wes Hargis's illustrations with simple, but effective animation and sound effects. Most screens include a few interactive extras (e.g., close-ups of Billy's homework assignments and imagined accolades, snails that slide back and forth along a tightrope) that come to life when users tap, swipe, or tilt their device. Games like "Xtreme Snail Race," "Gorilla Masseuse," and "Tarantula Shaver" allow the user to experience some of Billy's potential professions first-hand. You can play each game just as the associated job is mentioned; if you prefer to wait until the end of the story, all are easily accessible from the main menu.

What really makes the app is Al's own excellent narration. The litany of bizarre occupations can feel a little overly long when reading it yourself, but his perfectly timed, just-over-the-top-enough performance adds life and warmth to the wackiness. Weird Al fans will appreciate his cameo as Billy's classmate in the illustrations, emphasizing the message that any kid can grow up to live his wildest dreams.

The app is available for iPhone, iPad, and iPod touch ($3.99 in the app store).

—Katie Bircher

Gardening with The Lorax

As the public becomes increasingly worried by climate change and deforestation, Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax, originally published in 1971, may be more relevant than ever before. With its unforgettable characters and sentiment, the classic is an entertaining and informative way of introducing young children to environmental issues.

Unfortunately, The Lorax Garden app (Oceanhouse Media) pales in comparison. The aim of the app is to restore barren forests by digitally raising flowers and Truffula trees. The process of doing so is unnecessarily complicated and seems to involve more steps than growing an actual tree. First, you must choose one of five locations, each with a forest in need of a facelift. To be successfully revived, every forest needs a different amount of full-grown Truffulas, ranging from three to nine. In the world of The Lorax Garden, raising a Truffula tree requires a combination of “care hearts,” water, and time. When you enter a new location, you receive ten care hearts, but they run out quickly. Though the needed number varies, it can take more than half of your allotted care hearts to raise one full-grown Truffula tree. To get more care hearts, you must grow one of six varieties of flowers, requiring water, pollination, and weeding—all in under a minute, as the section is timed. Growing each type of flower differs in difficulty and in how many care hearts you earn. Are you confused yet? Me too.

Here’s what I know for sure: reviving one of the forests in The Lorax Garden is a fairly significant investment of time. Add the time it takes to grow flowers to that required to grow a Truffula tree and you’re looking at well over an hour to restore a forest of nine Truffulas. But don’t worry: you probably won’t finish. Unless you’re one of those people who have to finish what they’ve started, you’ll be frustrated and/or terribly bored after growing just one or two Truffula trees. And if The Lorax Garden can’t hold the attention of a book- and garden-loving adult like myself, it surely won’t be a pleasant experience for children.

So do yourself and your children a favor. Forgo The Lorax Garden app. Read the picture book with your kids and use the $1.99 the app would have cost to buy a sapling or some seeds—real ones, not the pixelated kind brought to you by the Apple device of your choice. Plant them in your yard and bring The Lorax to life. Dr. Seuss would have preferred it that way.

—Laura Marenghi

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two (spoilers ahead!)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two opened in theaters on Friday to the delight and trepidation of fans everywhere. Movie-goers be warned: there is no summary or introduction as in the previous films—they really did just split one long film into two—so it’s definitely worthwhile to re-watch Part One (review here) prior to seeing this last film. Part Two begins exactly where the first half left off, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione regrouping at Shell Cottage while Voldemort gains possession of the Elder Wand. From there, the trio races non-stop to find and eliminate the remaining Horcruxes before Voldemort discovers their plan or obtains all three Deathly Hallows.

With this final installment, the acting has done nothing but improve. Whereas in the previous films I felt Daniel Radcliffe generally showed, as Hermione would say, the emotional range of a teaspoon, here he delves deeper, showing more emotion than ever before. Helena Bonham Carter also deserves special recognition, although not for her role as Bellatrix LeStrange (she is, as always, fantastically creepy and demented). Her portrayal of Hermione, post-polyjuice potion, impersonating Bellatrix while the trio breaks into Gringott’s Bank is flawless. Bonham Carter captures every physical mannerism of Emma Watson’s Hermione, from her walk to the way her face arranges when she tries to hide her anxiety. This is one of my favorite scenes in the film.

The film is beautifully crafted from beginning to end. There are many notable scenes, like a sweeping shot of the trio running through the battle on the way to find Voldemort and Nagini, that emphasize the chaos and panic of the battle. On Harry’s walk through the courtyard on the way to the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort, his path is illuminated to subtly suggest a cross. And, of course, there is the breathtaking, perfectly heartbreaking scene with the resurrection stone. Alexandre Desplat’s score is exquisitely melancholy and epic. The special effects of Gringott’s dragon are possibly the best in the series.

The past seven films have each had some parts that were spot-on while other parts disappointed, and this eighth film is no exception. During the final showdown between Voldemort and Harry, Harry’s lecture is replaced by showy tricks. There were laughably awkward moments—in one scene, Voldemort embraces Draco—and curious additions (a romance between characters Rowling clearly stated did not get together), uncharacteristic actions (McGonagall sending all of the Slytherins to the dungeons) and unforgivable omissions, including the scene leading up to the death of a certain ginger-haired character. However, even for die-hard fans these changes only dampen the generally satisfying film.

The movie is peppered with references to the earlier installments—a flock of Cornish pixies in the Room of Requirement, a chocolate frog on the window of the Hogwarts Express in the epilogue—that inspire welcome feelings of nostalgia to break up the relentless melancholy and adrenaline. Screenwriter Steve Kloves uses his screenplay to acknowledge the significance the franchise has had (and will continue to have) for so many people. Memorable statements from Dumbledore and Lupin remind us of the importance of convictions and the power of words. Through Neville Longbottom, Kloves provides the most comfort of all, reminding us that “It doesn’t matter that Harry’s gone. People die every day. Friends, family. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he’s still with us, in here [gestures to chest]. So’s Fred, and Remus, and Tonks—all of them . . . Harry’s heart did beat for us, for all of us! It’s not over!"

—Kazia Berkley-Cramer

At home with Kids and Home

Despite its title, RedactiePartners MediaGroep’s Kids and Home app ($.99, recommended for ages 4 and up) features no children and a wide variety of buildings, few of them actually homes. However, it serves as an adequate introduction for young children to different architecture around the world. The first part of the app resembles a nonfiction picture book; each screen introduces a particular structure, mentioning a unique feature of the building and how it differs from the narrator’s own house (for example, “This is the Taj Mahal. It is in India. It was built as a monument to love. My house was built to be lived in”). Only very general facts are given on the main part of each screen, instead giving focus to a photograph of the structure itself. A light bulb in the upper right corner, once tapped, becomes a pull-down fact sheet about the location with more detailed information and trivia. Each screen includes a related (if somewhat lackluster) interactive element; for instance, on the Big Ben screen a double-decker bus beeps and drives across the photo. Although so many—over twenty-five—pages become repetitive, they do allow the user to explore a diverse range of structures, from houseboats to cathedrals to the pyramids.

The second part of the app allows users to customize a home. Essentially a virtual sticker book, this feature lets users select the location of their home (e.g., Mars, underwater, a desert) to its accoutrements (e.g., columns, solar panels, and weather vanes). Another sticker book–ish section offers images of vehicles, animals, etc., to play with, while yet another section invites digital painting. I used the app several times and each time found the creative parts challenging to work with. I had trouble making the pieces of my home stay where I wanted them and saving my finished picture. Theoretically the user can send their "dreamhouse" by email or upload it to Facebook, but after I saved the image of my home I was not able to upload it. Overall, the app is less user-friendly—and less interesting—than I had hoped it would be.

—Kazia Berkley-Cramer

Summer reading

To help usher in warmer weather—which has finally arrived in the northeast—here are two new books by veteran author-illustrators: Geisel Medal–winner Mo Willems’s Should I Share My Ice Cream? and, for older readers, Postcards from Camp by Simms Taback, recipient of the 2000 Caldecott Medal.

Elephant Gerald has a delicious moral dilemma in this latest Elephant & Piggie easy reader (Disney-Hyperion, June). To share or not to share. . .that is his question. Gerald carefully and thoughtfully weighs the pros and cons of splitting his “awesome, yummy, sweet, super, great, tasty, nice, cool ice cream” with best friend Piggie, but as he’s lost in deliberations, the cool ice cream is steadily melting. By the time Gerald works through his angst, the ice cream is gone and so are Gerald’s hopes of making his friend happy. Luckily, Piggie knows how to cheer Gerald up: “Would you like some of my ice cream?” A familiar problem, a satisfying resolution, and Willems’s friendly illustrations and book design are just what new readers crave.

Simms Taback’s epistolary Postcards from Camp (Penguin/Paulsen, June) is something of a Jolly Postman for middle-grade kids. Called a “postal story” on the title page, the book features the correspondence between reluctant camper Michael Stevens and his relentlessly upbeat dad, Harry. The actual story is less compelling than Taback’s detailed collage illustrations, which mostly feature the fronts and backs of postcards purportedly handmade by Michael and Harry (there are also four envelopes with letters to pull out and read). Whether they’re homesick and need a diversion or completely enmeshed in their camp experience, kids will enjoy Taback’s story of one (eventually) happy camper.

—Kitty Flynn

Wild rumpus

I can’t draw. You wouldn’t want me on your Pictionary team. I also have a fifteen-month-old, so tushy humor is big right now. For these reasons, Brian Snyder and Alexis Moniello’s Everything Butt Art at the Zoo (Madbrook, May) caught my eye. “What can you draw with a butt? Everything!” Starting with a flattened-looking W (i.e., bum shape), the authors demonstrate, step by step, how to sketch fifteen different zoo animals, from a simple-ish six-step snake to a more involved twelve-step lion. A lot of the fun is seeing where the butt shape will take you; for almost all of the animals, the starting-point wiggly line doesn’t end up forming the rear. Sometimes it’s paws, sometimes cheeks (on the face, that is), sometimes a big, wide grin.

There’s no way kids won’t think this is funny, and it does get them thinking, between giggles, about shapes and forms. The fun continues on the website, and it looks like an app is on the way. Visual art is taken out of the museum and plopped right into the zoo—just where kiddos might want to find it.

—Elissa Gershowitz

The Big Four

I just read Rage by Jackie Morse Kessler (HMH, April), a follow-up to October’s Hunger. In each book, a troubled girl on the brink of killing herself (intentionally or through miscalculated self-injury) is offered a second chance by Death: take on the role of a Horseman of the Apocalypse. Anorexic, over-exercising Lisa becomes the avatar of Famine, and outcast cutter Missy assumes the mantle of War. Their new identities give the teens a sense of purpose, and the power to inflict—or choose not to inflict—tragedy on others inspires Missy and Lisa to confront their personal demons.

There’s an implication in the novels that a “bigger picture” perspective can reverse these extremely complex psychological problems. I doubt that global awareness alone would be enough to change an anorexic's or self-injurer's self-destructive patterns, but it’s refreshing to see protagonists dealing with these issues in plots that go beyond a problem novel set-up. Partial proceeds from the books are donated to the National Eating Disorder Association and self-injury prevention organization To Write Love on Her Arms, two causes I wholeheartedly support.

So far, the Horsemen protagonists have been Horsewomen, with psychological issues primarily (but certainly not only) afflicting teenage girls, but both secondary characters Death and Pestilence have male incarnations. I’m curious about their back stories—particularly that of the enigmatic Pale Rider, who bears an uncanny resemblance to a long-dead icon of the grunge era (complete with a tendency to break into “Come as You Are”)—and interested to see how the change of protagonist gender may influence the narratives. Loss, starring Pestilence, will be out next year; it looks like I’ll have to wait even longer to get the whole scoop on Death.

In the meantime, Kessler’s “characters strike back” in an interview with the author by Missy and Lisa. And Death himself chats about life, “little-d death,” and rock ‘n’ roll with other protagonists of YA novels at the “call-in radio show”–style blog Post Mortem.

—Katie Bircher

ETA: See Jackie Morse Kessler's response to The Wall Street Journal's "Darkness Too Visible" article here. 

Lookin' good

Beauty and makeup how-to books are abundant and ever-popular—makeup artist turned beauty mogul Kevyn Aucoin’s New York Times bestseller Making Faces (Little, Brown, 1997) and his later Face Forward (Little, Brown, 2000) set the bar high. Erika Stalder (with celebrity stylists Christopher Fulton and Cameron Cohen) smartly cashes in on the genre for a young audience with The Look Book: 50 Iconic Beauties and How to Achieve Their Signature Styles (Zest Books, May).

Each spread of The Look Book focuses on a signature look paired with its celebrity innovator, organized into chapters by features of the face. The examples are accompanied by background information on the icon and a discussion of her style, a famous quotation, and her best-known accomplishments, though some of the subjects (silent-movie star Mary Pickford with her “ringlet curls,” for example) may elicit the occasional “who?!” While Aucoin’s books include ordinary women as models in addition to the world-famous, The Look Book sticks with famous faces. Using average teens alongside, let’s say, Brooke Shields to demonstrate “natural, full brows,” would have made these unique styles more relatable and appealing to the intended audience. Regardless, the accompanying instructions are concise, thorough, easy to follow, and include important details such as who each look “works best on,” the “tools needed,” and “time it takes” to create the look. At the heart of the The Look Book are the messages that individuality and an adventurous approach are the keys to iconic beauty, and that having fun with your appearance is what’s most important—sentiments sure to inspire and excite aspiring makeup artists and divas-in-training. Get a sneak peek with Zest’s how-to videos here.

—Katrina Hedeen

Let's get lost

Children’s author/illustrator Roxie Munro has collaborated with OCG Studios to create Roxie’s A-MAZE-ing Vacation Adventure. Sixteen screens of mini-mazes make up a gigantic maze that takes players through cities, farmland, freeways, and wilderness. Along the way, users search for hidden numbers, letters, and objects.

Munro’s characteristically detailed illustration style gets revved up here. As in her books (Mazescapes, Amazement Park), the mazes are complex and varied: roads and footpaths lead to a slope to ski or a river to raft, with dead ends disguised as construction sites, road blocks, driveways to private homes, or roundabouts. The landscapes are full of tiny, often interactive, vignettes, like a zoo with elephants that trumpet and a field that blooms with flowers. One especially effective screen places amusement park rides along a footpath; following the path triggers each ride to begin moving. Similar both in concept and in organization to Mazescapes, the app’s interactivity is heightened as kids tap the screen and make things happen.

Another cool feature is the ability to move from the default car to other forms of transportation (including a canoe, a raft, and a hot air balloon) in order to explore different terrains. Not every vehicle is steerable—it’d be fun to actually control the plane, for instance—but it’s still satisfying to figure out what vehicle to use to overcome obstacles and move on to the next part of the maze.

At first, I was unsure for what age group Roxie’s A-MAZE-ing Vacation Adventure is intended. It requires no reading and asks players to identify numbers and letters, which would indicate a younger audience; the mazes and seek-and-find are challenging enough for older kids and even adults. But when I learned that Munro and developer OCG Studios intended to make the app accessible for players internationally, the lack of reading makes more sense. The app is rated ages 4 and up, but given the complexity of the mazes I’d suggest a minimum of age 6.

OCG Studios has a fascinating making-of blog here.

—Katie Bircher

Blow the house down!

Crows normally freak me out—their carrion-eating, raucous-cawing ways give me the willies. But when it comes to kids' apps, two Crows seem to know what they're doing.

Loud Crow Interactive (producer of the awesome PopOut! The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Sandra Boynton apps) had better make room in the nest for Nosy Crow, whose The Three Little Pigs is an app-only retelling of the familiar tale.

Nosy Crow's story is faithful to the traditional tale with a few original touches, including making one of the porcine siblings a girl and having the brick-building pig be the youngest one. While the narrative doesn't offer much that's new, the illustrations and interactive features are clever (though not problem-free) and imaginative. Users can choose to read the story themselves, be read to, or be read to and play along. I was skeptical about the decision to use actual kids as narrators—I was worried they'd sound irritatingly perky, like the kids on Barney and Friends—but these young readers' performances are refreshingly unaffected and engaging. Their delightful British accents don't hurt, either. Hearing the wolf's and the parents' lines delivered by child readers takes a little getting used to, however.

There are lots of interactive elements to draw kids into the story, so many that it slows the story down (which may be not a bad thing, since the story will be familiar to most users). New and cool to me: at the prompt, users can choose to help the wolf huff and puff by blowing into their iPad's microphone. (If you share your iPad with a lot of people, though, you may want to opt out.) It's hard to know when you've exhausted all the things to do on a page (flip the characters, make them speak, move items on the page, shift the perspective on the page) and can proceed to the next page, but multiple viewings may help with this problem. And speaking of multiple viewings: it's frustrating not to be able to skip around in the story; to revisit a particular page, you have to go through the whole thing again. Page by page.

Nosy Crow's "Three Little Pigs" is an auspicious debut, and I look forward to seeing what they hatch next.

—Kitty Flynn

Bonjour, Monsieur Tullet!

Hervé Tullet—the French author, illustrator, and ad agency art director known as the “Prince of Preschool”—has been popping up all over the office recently.

Tullet’s new book Press Here directs readers to press, rub, shake, and blow on colorful dots which then “transform” with the page turn. Chronicle’s been promoting Press Here with an adorable book trailer starring a group of kids who shriek in joy as the book “responds” to their touch—the brightly colored circles grow, shrink, slide, change color, or multiply from page to page. Like the kids in the trailer, I love how interaction and imagination bring the book to life in my hands.

Phaidon Press just published six board books from Tullet’s "The Game of…" series. The Game of Mix and Match and The Game of Mix-up Art are your standard flip-the-flaps books; the reader can choose to either seek out pieces of a complete picture or mix different shapes and patterns. The Game of Finger Worms is more story than game; after drawing smiling “finger worm” faces on my fingers, I had a Thumbelina-esque experience popping my pointer fingers through the holes in each page and wiggling them around the world of the story. The Game of Let’s Go! and The Game of Light are slightly more abstract and may require adult help (Light involves holding the book at an odd angle and projecting shapes on a wall with a flashlight). My personal favorite is The Game of Patterns, in which opposing pages contain what looks like an identical collection of images, but closer examination reveals subtle differences. This would be an excellent (and durable!) book to have in the car or travel bag. For more on “The Game Of…” books, see Betsy Bird’s in-depth review on Fuse #8.

Tullet’s The Book with a Hole (Abrams, May) is a “zany” activity and coloring book with a die-cut hole in its center. Readers can “crumple up a sheet of paper, make a ball, and play basketball” on one page; other pages encourage kids to “dress up” as “king of the castle” with their faces through the hole or to build a skyscraper to fit in the hole. As with all of Tullet’s creations, combining imagination with book interaction is the main goal, which is entertaining for readers of all ages.

—Cindy Ritter

How pleasant, indeed.

Chronicle has just published His Shoes Were Far Too Tight, a collection of Edward Lear’s poems, selected and introduced by author/NPR commentator Daniel Pinkwater. The collection is illustrated by Calef Brown, a fabulous children’s poet himself.

With the book we received a CD of the euphonious Pinkwater narrating five of the poems. My favorite is the collection’s opener, Lear’s self-effacing self-portrait “How Pleasant to Know Mr. Lear!”:

How pleasant to know Mr. Lear!

Who has written such volumes of stuff!

Some think him ill-tempered and queer,

But a few find him pleasant enough.

His mind is concrete and fastidious;

His nose is remarkably big;

His visage is more or less hideous;

His beard it resembles a wig.

…

He sits in a beautiful parlor,

With hundreds of books on the wall;

He drinks a great deal of Marsala,

But never gets tipsy at all.

…

He has many friends, lay men and clerical;

Old Foss is the name of his cat;

His body is perfectly spherical;

He weareth a runcible hat…

I think Mr. Lear and I would get along quite well, actually, amid our cats and hundreds of books.

Chronicle has also made the audio tracks available online. Add a little nonsense to your day by listening to “How Pleasant to Know Mr. Lear!” along with “The Pobble Who Has No Toes,” “The Owl and the Pussycat,” “The Jumblies,” and “Some Incidents in the Life of My Uncle Arly” here.

—Katie Bircher

Three threes and an overworked hen

We (and Fuse #8) have been complaining about the current dearth of new picture book editions of folktales. I mean, wouldn't you love to see Mo Willems take on "The Three Billy Goats Gruff"? Bryan Collier do a "Hansel and Gretel"? An Erin Stead "Cinderella"? Hey, being a picture book casting agent is fun!

But in the meantime, have a look at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt's reissues of Paul Galdone's Three Little Kittens, The Three Bears, The Three Little Pigs, and The Little Red Hen. Originally published by Clarion in the 1970s and 80s, the four books (more will follow later in the year) are now available in a uniform paper-over-board edition at the nice price of $8.99 each. Galdone was a refreshingly modest illustrator: his retellings are straightforward and his unassumingly loose-lined, color-separated pictures (Lolly says) provide just enough embellishment, as when the lazy cat in Little Red Hen lolls on the couch, dreaming of a tin of sardines. And oh, the white space! Plenty of it on the page gives the stories all the room they need to do their stuff.

—Roger Sutton

Making Over Uglies

Digging through a box of books the other day, I came across what I thought was a new Scott Westerfeld book. “Yay!” said my brain—until I realized the title read Uglies. “Wait, what?” I thought. “This isn’t Uglies!”

The "trilogy plus one" is receiving a full redesign (in hardcover, no less) by publisher Simon Pulse, from the covers to trim size and page design. While the new jacket for Extras does pay homage to the original, the new Uglies cover with its haunting covered face bears a closer resemblance to the opening credits of the (adult) TV show Dexter than it does to the original cover. The new Pretties cover reminds me of another grown-up show, Nip/Tuck, making me wonder if the makeovers are an attempt to market the books to an older audience. Though the new covers don’t appeal to me personally, I’ve seen plenty of positive buzz about them online from adult bloggers.

 

I feel these remakes lack the pizzazz of the original books: their smaller size, mysterious teenaged faces, and eye-catching spines. And while the images on the new covers are startling (as is the use of sterile white), they just don't do justice to the uniqueness of Westerfeld’s dystopian world. Ironically, the new versions look like New Pretty Town–style extreme makeovers of the originals—sexed-up and stripped down. I’m the first to admit I can be averse to change, but in this case, change seems unnecessary and a little compromising. What do you think?

—Cindy Ritter

Tag!

As Roger reports, PoetryTagTime is a new ebook-only anthology of 30 original, interrelated poems. Each distinguished children's poet "tags" the next poet in line, connecting each poem topically (moon to sun, sun to sunflower, etc.) to the ones before and after it. The PoetryTagTime Tips blog offers ideas for sharing the poems with kids one-on-one or in a classroom setting.

The 30-poem collection is just the right length for sharing a poem a day during National Poetry Month, but with contributors including Douglas Florian, Calef Brown, Lee Bennett Hopkins, and Nikki Grimes, it's sure to be a hit with budding poets and poetry lovers any time.

And April's not over yet! For more poetry, check out Roger's post about Poem in Your Pocket for Young Poets: 100 Poems to Rip Out and Read and the recommended poetry booklist on our website.

—Katie Bircher

My Very First App

From coloring books to flash cards, baby journals to stuffed animals, adaptations of Eric Carle’s tissue collage illustrations seem endless. Night and Day Studios has reshaped Carle’s work for the iPad, releasing My Very First App in December. This was the first of the company’s two apps adapting recognizable artwork into children’s games (see January's Peekaboo Forest, featuring the artwork of Charley Harper).

My Very First App turns images from Carle’s My Very First Books series into matching games. In "Easy" mode, the screen is divided in half; players scroll through sets of images to find corresponding concepts (e.g., purple and grapes). The "Medium" level requires users to flip over cards two at a time and pair images directly (grapes and grapes), while the "Hard" level asks users to pair different but related images (again, purple and grapes) while a narrator explains the relationship between the two.

In virtualizing the real-world card-matching game, Night and Day Studios has eliminated the possibility of lost cards and the necessity for pick-up, and the dimension of matching related but nonidentical images extends the app’s playability. Though children may quickly tire of matching the color and animal cards that come pre-loaded, there are additional card sets for purchase (but at $1.99 for the app and $.99 for each additional set, this could quickly become one of the pricier apps on your iPad).

From the chewed-through pages of The Very Hungry Caterpillar to the twinkling lights of The Very Lonely Firefly, Eric Carle's books revel in both whimsy and envelope-pushing. Comparatively, My Very First App is a beautiful but somewhat underwhelming take on a traditional card game—and has lost much of Carle’s magic in the process.

—Elizabeth Parks

"I'll clean up my act when I'm good and ripe!"

Karl Beckstrand's bizarrely funny picture book Bad Bananas (Premio, June) shows how good bananas go wrong. Fresh from the grocery store, they're sweet and "conform nicely to the bunch," but before you know it they're "borrowing" the fruit bowl for joyrides and loitering in "dimly lit lunchboxes." The fair trade and organic labels of their innocent youth are replaced by tattoo-like stickers proclaiming Del Malo, Un-Organic, or Dull. When rival fruits try to stand up to these hoodlums, insults fly: "Your mother's a raisin!" Most of illustrator Jeff Faerber's illustrations style the bad apples bananas as gang-banger types or skate punks—but some go fully Dark Side, like a Darth Vader-ish villain and a pirate banana walking the plank into a frying pan.

Just when you think there's no hope—they're just a bad bunch—salvation appears in the form of banana-based recipes. Cookies, fruit salad, pancakes, and more give these bananas a second chance. I made "banana redemption muffins" (with the "optional" chocolate chips, of course) and brought them into the office. A little dense (probably from my forgetting the baking powder rather than any defect in the recipe), they were still delicious, and an excellent use for the overripe bananas stinking up my kitchen. And while I can't say my baking received "four stars from The Banana Post," I'll take an appreciative "mmm" from The Horn Book staff any day.

—Katie Bircher

Wimpy Kid and beyond

Rick Detorie’s The Accidental Genius of Weasel High (Egmont, April) comes hot on the heels of the latest movie adaptation of Jeff Kinney’s popular series, Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules (currently in theaters). This paperback original will appeal to Wimpy Kid fans in both its format and its angsty content. Accidental Genius poses itself as the “notebook blog” (what we called "a journal" in the old days) of protagonist Larkin Pace—a project assigned by his freshman English teacher as a result of the students’ “overall poor writing skills and penmanship.” Larkin chronicles his ninth-grade, girl, and family dramas through witty entries and frequent lists of things he hates, e.g., “Ten Things I Hate About Being 14” and “Top Ten Things That Bug Me About My Dad” (#7 on the Dad list: “He’s old”). Accompanying Larkin’s “blogging” are cartoon illustrations similar in style and sophistication to Detorie’s nationally syndicated comic strip, One Big Happy. Though the drawings enhance the text, they tend to feel like the adult Detorie's art rather than teenage Larkin's personal sketches.

Larkin’s fourteen-year-old ambitions and cynicism will wet the whistles of Wimpy Kid followers who’ve been yearning for more every-kid heroics since the publication last November of Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Ugly Truth (Amulet). Though Larkin bears more than a passing resemblance to Kinney’s Greg Heffley, Accidental Genius is far from a wimpy addition to pubescent boys’ bookshelves.

—Katrina Hedeen

London calling

I just reviewed Salvatore Rubbino’s nonfiction picture book A Walk in London (Candlewick, March) for the May/June 2011 issue of The Horn Book Magazine. A follow-up to A Walk in New York, Rubbino’s new book is equally engaging, informative, and beautifully illustrated—and had me longing for a plane ticket back to my beloved study-abroad city.

Needing a London fix, I picked up London: A 3D Keepsake Cityscape illustrated by Sarah McMenemy, also from Candlewick and due out in May. At roughly 4 inches by 4 inches with an accordion-fold format, this definitely isn't a tour book or map to use as reference while wandering Kensington or Westminster, but it makes a perfect souvenir or gift. Both sides of the accordion showcase twelve cut-paper, pop-out illustrations of London landmarks with general information about each. Two maps place the sites in geographical relation to one another. For London lovers like myself, these pop-outs of famous places like Westminster Abbey (where Prince William and Kate will be married on April 29th!) or The London Eye are a great way to reminisce.

I hope more Keepsake Cityscapes are in the works and can’t wait to see which city will be next: New York? Boston? Paris? Rome? Washington, D.C.? There's a world of possibilities.

—Cindy Ritter

Hide-and-Seek with Charley Harper

The modernist wildlife artist Charley Harper died in 2007, but his work lives on via books and merchandise featuring his recognizable art. It was only a matter of time before an app appeared, and Night and Day Studios has taken the challenge. Their Peekaboo Forest reconfigures elements of Harper's paintings and silkscreen prints (such as Foxsimiles, Weasel, and Octoberama) into a series of forest settings that change with the seasons. Rather than a story, Peekaboo Forest falls somewhere between a concept book and a game: touch an animated peeking-out tail or ear to reveal a labeled forest creature, accompanied by audio of the animal's sound and name.

The app features three narrators, in English and Spanish, who can be turned on and off. My favorite is the child narrator (credited as 3-year-old Hazel), who's adorably exuberant if occasionally harder to understand than her adult counterparts. The animal sounds are also optional -- but what's the fun in turning those off? Offering the choice to turn off narration while keeping animal sounds is a smart move, allowing sound to act as a clue to each creature's identity without having the answer imposed upon you by some know-it-all narrator. The sounds are sometimes surprising: along with the typical ribbits, buzzes, and squeaks, there are snorting and chomping noises. Some "peekaboos" are unexpected, too, as when eyes glowing in the dark illuminate a pack of raccoons.

While gorgeous and well-conceived in many ways, Peekaboo Forest does have some flaws. The order of animals' appearance is dictated by the app, rather than the user. Frustratingly, there's no way to skip from season to season or animal to animal; in order to see foxes in the fall, for instance, you have to make your way through winter, spring, and summer at 3–4 animals per season. The animations are non-repeatable, though a "loop" option allows you to cycle through the year indefinitely and catch 'em next time around.

Harper's boldly colored, geometric nature art -- with plenty of eye-catching patterns -- is well-suited to this kind of educational game, and Night and Day has nicely reimagined his work for a new format and young audience. I'm looking forward to seeing what the company does next (and hoping they work out a few kinks).

-- Katie Bircher