Kathi Appelt

Beautiful but heart-breaking, this thoughtful examination of sisterly love and loss from co-authors Kathi Appelt and Alison McGhee follows the story of Jules, a young rock-hound whose deep bond with her elder sister Sylvie has been a mainstay in her life, since the death of their mother some time before. When Sylvie, whose 'burning wish' is always to run faster, falls into the Slip - the point at which the local river goes briefly underground - and is never seen again, Jules and her father show more must once again face the terrible grief of losing a family member. Trying to deal with her own guilt - why didn't she stop Sylvie that day, when she disobeyed their father's rules, and sprinted to the forbidden Slip? - Jules must also contend with her best friend Sam, whose elder brother Elk is newly returned from the war in Afghanistan, and her promise to find the 'Grotto,' a legendary local cave where grieving people have been reputed for generations to leave offerings of rocks for their lost loved ones. Parallel to Jules' story, is that of Senna, a young fox who is born one of the 'Kennen' - special animals with a strong bond to the spirits, who come into the world to accomplish some specific purpose, usually involving a human being. As Jules and Senna's paths converge, tragedy and transcendence is not far behind, and the reader learns the significance of Sylvie's burning wish, and just who Senna is...

I finished Maybe a Fox on the uptown A-train, with tears trickling down my face. As is usually the case when I am deeply moved, it took me some time to process my feelings, and to marshal my thoughts for a review. I was attracted to the story initially because of the fox character - the depiction of foxes in children's literature is one of my research areas - but found the humans every bit as compelling. The co-authors here capture the strength of a sister's devotion, and the depth of pain at a sister's loss. They also, through the story of Elk, offer a sensitive depiction of the trauma of returning home from war. I was intrigued (naturally) by the character of Senna, and the idea of the 'Kennen.' Kennan is, of course, the German verb 'to know,' something the authors must surely have been aware of, and Senna is a fox with a heightened sense of knowing - of connection to the natural world, whether that be the forest, the catamount (Sam's obsession) or the bear. She is also a fox with a special connection to one human - Jules - just as the catamount has a special connection to Elk. I had certain preconceptions about what that would turn out to mean - I assumed that Senna was meant to be a kind of guide, something that is becoming more common, in fox stories. Instead, she is a sort of reincarnated form of Sylvie, and her self-sacrifice at the end of the book has a power and truth that I was not expecting.

A beautiful, beautiful book, Maybe a Fox is a book I will be pondering for some time. I would recommend it to fans of Appelt's other books - apparently some of its themes have also been explored in her previous titles - and to young readers interested in stories featuring family and close friend dynamics, and in the human connection to the natural world. show less

In broad strokes, a blue cat with black stripes stalks across the pages of this funny book. Playful rhyming language, as playful as a hungry kitty prowling the room, accompanies Max's antics as he pounces on fish, scales a screen for lizards, chases a bird toy, and attacks socks. Max keeps returning to the fish, but when disaster strikes there's always his "bowl of crunchies" left to attack!

Appelt's skill with language is shown in the simple lines that trip off the tongue, making a fun show more read-aloud or an interactive book, encouraging kids to pounce, prowl, and leap just like Max. Dullaghan is a new illustrator, this being her debut book, and she matches nicely with Appelt's playful text. Max is a splash of blue paint on a gray-green background, leaping, exploring, and hunting his prey while the smug fish glide in pink and red circles in their bowl.

Verdict: Perfect for a lively cat-themed storytime, encouraging kids to get up and move like a cat, or cuddling up to giggle over Max's antics, this delightful new picture book is sure to be loved by children, be they feline fans or not. Even better, it will work as well for toddler as for preschool storytimes, joining the ever-shrinking collection of books that have both literary and artistic merit and appeal for younger, wiggly children.

ISBN: 9781481451468; Published June 2019 by Atheneum; Review copy provided by publisher; Donated to the library show less

In this lovely picture-book biography, author Kathi Appelt and illustrator Joy Fisher Hein, both natives of Texas, tell the story of Claudia Alta Taylor, better known to America and the world as Lady Bird Johnson, the First Lady of the United States from 1963 through 1969. Born in 1912, just outside the village of Karnak, Texas, she got her unusual nickname from a childhood nanny, and she grew up with a great love of wildflowers. The Texas Bluebell, in particular, brought Lady Bird comfort show more after the death of her mother. Meeting and falling in love with Lyndon Baines Johnson while a student at the University of Texas, Lady Bird joined him in his life in Washington, D.C., first as the wife of a congressman, then as Second Lady, when Johnson was Vice President, and finally as First Lady. She worked consistently on programs to clean up and beautify public spaces, from parks to freeways, and the Highway Beautification Act of 1965 was informally named after her, being known as "Lady Bird's Bill." Many years later, after the death of her husband, Lady Bird helped to found the National Wildflower Research Center, now named after her, outside Austin, Texas...

Although familiar with the figure of Lady Bird Johnson, and aware of her importance to the Highway Beautification Act - there's an amusing but rather impolite joke about this, in the film Good Morning, Vietnam - I actually knew very little about her life, going in to Miss Lady Bird's Wildflowers: How a First Lady Changed America. I sought out the book because an online friend had reviewed it positively, and am glad I did - thank you, Kathryn! - as I found it informative, engaging, and beautiful. The narrative here really focuses on Lady Bird's lifelong love for flowers, and it does a good job of explaining why that love was so strong. I was particularly happy to learn of the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, and its role in research and conservation, as I think this highlights the important legacy of this woman's work, which I have sometimes seen dismissed as merely decorative, and therefore somehow superficial. I have enjoyed other books from author Kathi Apelt before, so I was not surprised to find the text here so engaging, but this was my first encounter with illustrator Joy Fisher Hein, and her artwork was something of a revelation. The illustrations here were just beautiful, with a gorgeous color palette, and a style that reminded me of Claire A. Nivola, which is surely a high compliment. I will definitely look for more of Hein's work, and for other picture-books about America's First Ladies, which is not a topic I have explored that deeply, in my reading. Recommended to young flower lovers, and to picture-book readers who enjoy biography or are interested in the history of conservation.

Addendum: I was surprised to see a critical review of Hein's artwork mentioning that all of the non Euro-American characters were depicted in a stereotypical fashion - the African-American nanny who named Lady Bird, the Mexican mariachi band playing during the scene from her Mexican honeymoon, the Japanese ladies in traditional kimono at the cherry tree planting in Washington - as these were scenes that actually occurred during the subject's life. Lady Bird did have an African-American nanny, she most likely experienced a mariachi band while on honeymoon in Mexico, and she most certainly planted a cherry tree together with a Japanese woman wearing a kimono. There's photographs documenting the latter, just as there are more recent photographs of Michelle Obama with a kimono-clad Japanese woman, viewing a cherry tree. Is the artist meant not to depict these true-to-life scenes, because this reviewer imagines they are stereotypical? What about all of the other non Euro-American characters in the book? For my own part, I liked the fact that although the main cast of characters - Lady Bird and her friends and family - were all Euro-American, Hein depicted a diverse range of people in many of the public scenes. When Lady Bird is walking beside the polluted Potomac River, children of all backgrounds are playing nearby, while on the page which discusses Lady Bird's belief that all children should be plant caretakers, we see young gardeners of all races depicted. Likewise, when discussing the scientists and ecologists who do their research at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, a diverse range of people are shown.

As a general rule, I try not to respond directly to other amateur reviewers, in my own reviews, although I have always felt that professional reviews were fair game. That said, I found this other review so misleading, that I felt I needed to address the point it raised, lest potential readers be put off from picking up this excellent book. show less

Ten crabs work magic on Keeper and turn what should be a perfect blue moon day into a perfect nightmare. Keeper creates the perfect plan for repairing damage. The key is finding her mermaid mother.

Somehow I missed reviewing this marvelous book last season! I love writing in which central metaphors are reinforced by the text structure—that perfect blend of form and style. In this book we have repeated phrases and images returning over and over and over again—just like the tides and the show more moons that are so central to this story: “Easy peasy,” “If you give a wish…,” “You stupid crabs,” “Questions for the universe.” See also the way the page is formatted on page 337 (or 130 or 173 or 275 or 337). Throughout this novel Appelt uses repetition and page layout to reinforce the meaning. Another astonishing notable aspect of this book is its love story between Mr. Beauchamp and Jack in a middle grade book. There is no problem, no repercussions, no judgment—just two boys and then later two old men holding hands. There is no need to justify, there is just a long overdue acknowledgement that love has many forms of expression that are appropriate for a children’s book. Likewise we have Doggie with his dreads (385) and no explanation from Appelt germane to his race. Appelt very subtly shows (without telling) many things in this book. Perhaps my favorite comes at the end. Doggie has been practicing and practicing his two word love song, which he can sing without hesitations, but cannot say. However, when he thinks Keeper may be lost at sea, he is able to shout, without stuttering, very clearly and very emphatically (pp. 371-373). Contrast this with Doggie’s attempt to say Keeper on page 152 and 154. And on page 376 Doggie says clearly and without thinking about talking, “Let’s just wait.” On page 157 we know that Doggie has trouble with words that begin with L. Appelt does not need to mention that on page 371 this is the first time Doggie has not stuttered when he speaks. He does not stutter for the rest of the book and I really appreciate the fact that Appelt does not feel the need to mention whether or not he is cured (because chances are that he stuttered saying his wedding vows). Doggie is Doggie, the man Signe and Keeper love—with his speech impediment, with his hair, with his skin color—just the way he is and it isn’t necessary to highlight these details because what is important is the love he has for Signe and Keeper, the love he has always had. The magical realism works with this story and allows the reader to accept the coincidences of the luck charm and of Jack. It allows space in Keeper’s heart for her mother without painting a rosy picture of the mother. This allows the central theme of “What is family?” to sail more freely. show less