Book Review: Tater Tales: The Greatest in the World! by Ben Clanton

By Christine McFaul

The Greatest in the World! is the first book in a hilarious new Tater Tales series created by author/illustrator Ben Clanton and recommended for readers in grades 1-4.

Rot Poe Tater wakes up one morning feeling great. No, better than great…the greatest in the world! Unfortunately, when Rot’s grouchy older brother Snot deigns to roll out of the garden-bed, he sees things differently. In Snot’s  superior-older-brotherly opinion, it is obvious that he is the greatest in the world. An argument that perfectly captures their sibling dynamic ensues. When neither spud can persuade the other to accept defeat, the two decide there is really only one way to settle this. So, with Rot’s “best-spuddy” Worm along for moral support, and baby-sister Tot recruited as an impartial judge, Rot and Snot compete in a series of comical feats specially designed to determine, once and for all, which of them is truly the greatest in the world.

Clanton’s writing, which in my opinion is always excellent, reaches peak punny-funny in this “spudtacular” new book. But as great as the story is, it is Clanton’s illustrations that are the star of the show for me. The potatoes are disgustingly hilarious. Rendered in sickly shades of yellow, snot green, and garden brown, it is impossible to resist their adorably revolting faces. Even the font is child-friendly and somehow manages to add to the overall humour of the work. Loaded with pictures and with clever design choices, this book feels like a mash-up of a graphic novel and chapter book (a quality that is sure to appeal to the modern child reader as the popularity of the graphic novel only continues to grow).

Like much of Clanton’s work, The Greatest in the World! is extremely well-executed from start to finish. Stuffed full of fantastically horrible pictures and deliciously rotten potato-puns, this series opener is sure to have readers young and old laughing all the way through to its hilariously heart-warming message at the end (with a few pages of bonus material for anyone who can’t quite get enough). With the holiday season fast approaching, The Greatest in the World! would make an excellent gift for any humour-loving little readers you may have in your life.

Quick note, the vibe and characters from the Tater Tales chapter book series can also be found in several shorter picture books Clanton created aimed at readers aged 3-6. I have read both Rot, the Cutest in the World! and Rot, the Bravest in the World! with my girls and can vouch for their laugh-out-loud humour and appeal.

Thank you to Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Kiki Kallira Breaks a Kingdom by Sangu Mandanna

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warnings: death, child death

Kiki Kallira used to be a bright, sunshine girl, but in the last year, her brain has turned against her. She’s anxious all the time, terrified of worst-case scenarios, and the only thing that seems to help is escaping into a fantasy world inspired by the Indian myths and legends her mother tells her. She pours countless hours into creating a fictional version of Mysore city in her sketchbook and crafts a team of kid rebels fighting to defeat Mahishasura, a demon that has taken over the kingdom—in more ways than one. When one of Kiki’s characters, and the monster she’s fighting, come flying out of her sketchbook, she learns that Mahishasura has brought her Mysore to life, and she’s the only one who can banish him before he escapes into the real world.

Kiki Kallira Breaks a Kingdom is an absolute delight. It balances fantasy, emotion, magic, and real discussions about anxiety while having a fun and unique plot. Kiki is a fantastic main character, and right from the first page, I knew that I was going to love following her. She is a brave, creative, kind kid whose struggles with anxiety were almost painful to read, and it was beautiful to watch her come into her power and learn to face her monsters in both worlds. The fictional Mysore that Kiki created is also wonderful, and middle-grade and adult readers alike will love to see this world through Kiki’s eyes—described vividly and featuring just enough whimsy and magic to make Kiki’s Mysore feel like it’s straight out of a child’s mind, Mandanna did an excellent job of making this imaginary Mysore a place that readers will want to see saved.

Likewise, Kiki’s cast of rebel kids are unique, vivid, and so vibrant they almost leap off the page (get it? Because they’re drawings come to life?). Each kid had a unique voice, interesting motivations, and they all taught Kiki something she needed to know either about her fictional world or about herself. The kids all feel fleshed out and real, and their vibrancy makes the stakes of the book feel so much higher. The adult characters have a similar vividness, all except Mahishasura, who is the only character in this book who fell a little bit flat for me. He read very much as a middle-grade book villain, but I appreciated how the book was able to balance more serious subject matter with a villain who was age appropriate, while still maintaining high enough stakes that I, an adult, stayed super engaged with the story.

This book is perfect for both middle-grade readers and older readers who enjoy middle-grade fantasy. Kiki and all the kids feel like children, but the story doesn’t shy away from the heavier costs of living in a world like Kiki’s Mysore, and Kiki and the reader are asked to consider the cost of waging war with demons. Likewise, the book presents the realities of struggling with anxiety in a way that readers young and old can relate to, but though Mandanna explores these heavier themes, she never forgets her audience. This type of book shows the power of the middle-grade genre and how middle-grade stories, and the kids who read them, can handle tough topics.

This book is, of course, a fantasy story where kids can learn that there are many different ways to fight for the things you love. It is also a story about anxiety, fear, and the ways that you can be stronger and braver for facing your monsters. I was blown away by this book, and I can’t wait for readers of all ages to see Kiki as the hero she is.

Thank you to Penguin Random House for the complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Butt Sandwich & Tree by Wesley King

By Carly Smith

A tense and upsetting basketball tryout precedes an event that takes brothers Cedar and Green on a whodunnit adventure they never anticipated . After Cedar, a middle school basketball aficionado, convinces his younger and less athletic brother Green to try out for the school team, the coach’s necklace disappears and Coach is certain Green snatched it. The brothers, steadfast in their claim that Green is innocent, work together to prove Green’s innocence With the evidence they collect and the help of some unexpected co-detectives, the boys use their clues and interview skills to stop the accusations and gossip pinning Green to the crime. As the investigation plays out, the brothers learn a lot about themselves and each other, which consequently changes the dynamics of friendships and family relationships, eventually for the better.

King develops the main characters very well. Cedar is an athletic, social media-loving, outgoing teen, and Green is a reserved young man who likes to stick to what he is familiar with. King spends quite a bit of time at the beginning of the novel introducing Cedar and Green, their personalities, interests, and quirks. Although this prolongs the beginning of the investigation and the bulk of the plot, it adds an element of authenticity and really helps readers feel as if they have travelled inside the book, know the boys personally, and are standing beside them as they do their detective work. King also works hard to tie in great life lessons for youth regarding technology use, genuine connections, and staying true to oneself. It’s as if Butt Sandwich & Tree has snippets of a mystery novel, coming-of-age tale, comedy, and sports story all in one, without being overwhelming.

This book is appropriate as a class read-along and as an independent read at school or at home for students aged 8 to 13. It’s also suitable for readers who enjoy suspense and mysteries, feel like they don’t necessarily fit in (like sports and/or social media), or enjoy relating to middle school life. Truly, Butt Sandwich & Tree offers something for all readers. Adults interested in YA or who are reading this story alongside a young adult will not be underwhelmed or disappointed. With a heartfelt author’s note at the end to tie everything together, Butt Sandwich & Tree will leave every reader with a more optimistic and open-minded outlook on life.

Thank you to Simon and Schuster for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Sunny Days Inside and Other Stories by Caroline Adderson

By Kaylie Seed

Caroline Adderson has written a whip-smart, heartfelt, and humorous middle grade novel that takes place during the COVID-19 pandemic, when we were having to stay inside and isolate ourselves. The book consists of seven vignettes portraying different children living in an apartment building across the street from a hospital, and how they manage to cope with these extraordinary circumstances. While the “adult virus” (as it is named throughout the story) is present, it is not the focal point to the book. These stories are meant to show young readers that everyday people can find amazing ways to cope in unprecedented circumstances.

Themes such a resiliency, hope, understanding, and patience are all found throughout Sunny Days Inside. Readers young and old will delight in the adventures that each of the children have. Sunny Days Inside is well written and while each of the stories are separate from one another, they are all connected; neighbours are mentioned throughout, and of course they all live in the same apartment building.

This middle grade novel is meant to address what happened during the “adult virus” in terms that younger readers will understand and be able to process. As adults we can get so swept up in what is happening that we forget that we need to include children in these tough conversations. A middle grade novel like Sunny Days Inside allows adults to start conversations with younger readers about difficult topics, but topics that are important to reflect upon even years after the beginning of the pandemic.                   

Thank you to Groundwood Books for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Swim Team by Johnnie Christmas

By Christine McFaul

Swim Team: Small Waves, Big Changes is a new middle grade graphic novel by Vancouver-based author and artist Johnnie Christmas (publication date May 17th, 2022; currently available for pre-order).

The story opens with young protagonist Bree leaving Brooklyn for Florida, where her dad has accepted a job. Bree is nervous about the move, making friends, and starting over at a new middle school. She tries to approach the coming changes with a positive attitude but it’s hard not to let doubts creep in,  especially when she finds out her top choice of elective—Math Puzzles—is full. In fact, the only elective left for Bree to take is Swim 101. Which is a big problem, since academically oriented Bree doesn’t know how to swim.

Soon Bree is skipping class to avoid anyone finding out her secret. But after a worrisome tumble into the pool at her apartment complex introduces Bree to a new swim coach, she finally begins to find her way to the water. She quickly learns to out-swim her doubts and many of her peers, a feat that sees her qualifying for her school’s floundering swim team. As the newest member of the Manatees, Bree makes friends with her teammates and even places at her first meet; life is good! Until the Manatees learn that simply placing is not good enough. They will need to start winning meets or risk losing their pool, which is slated to be sold to a frozen smoothie chain. Bree’s newfound swim skills and friendships will be tested as she works with the Manatees to beat their hyper-competitive private school rivals, win the state championship, and ultimately save their pool—the last one in their community that is still free and available for public use.

Swim Team: Small Waves, Big Changes introduces readers to a vibrant and engaging set of middle grade characters. The sport story is both relatable and layered as Christmas seamlessly weaves the history of racism in America’s public pool system into the plot. Christmas strikes a perfect balance between the information that is delivered through writing and that which is conveyed visually. His previous experience in comics shines as he expertly wields his pencil to further develop his characters. The colour choices (featuring a lot of turquoise and yellow) create a sunny Florida swim vibe that shifts subtly with the moods and action of the story. Every detail, down to the lettering, draws out the middle grade experience (some of my favourite moments include “Bree’s Favourite Things” which have the look of notebook doodles, and the visual representation of Bree’s doubts throughout).

Graphic novels are becoming increasingly popular across all age categories of kid lit, and after finishing this book, I can absolutely see why. Swim Team: Small Waves, Big Changes is a warm and layered read enhanced by its beautiful and nuanced illustrations. An excellent middle grade choice for either academic or personal reading.

Note: I encourage anyone whose interest in Swim Team: Small Waves, Big Change was piqued after reading my thoughts to check out opinions provided by graphic novel aficionados (as this is my first review in this genre!) as well as by reviewers who can add a personal perspective to Bree’s experiences within the American public pool system as a Black middle school student.

Thank you to Harper Collins Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Step by Deborah Ellis

By Carly Smith

Content warning: death, violence

Step is a collection of short stories by Deborah Ellis. In each story, a child’s eleventh birthday is described. Perhaps catching her audience by surprise, Ellis’s stories do not involve grand celebrations, extraordinary gifts, or heaps of cake. Instead, they depict various scenarios of the everyday lives of children across the world. Although each story presents a unique plot, the protagonists share many similar emotions and thoughts—fear and feelings of anxiousness, wishes of greater independence, humility, and wonder. An eye-opening book for readers of all ages, Ellis’s poignant, empathy-invoking stories are reminiscent of her previous works like Sit and the Breadwinner series. 

Step has ten short stories in total. Ellis’s third story focuses on Dom, a preteen who has received a crystal from his brother for his birthday. The crystal brings him Gregoire, a young man whose life is very different than Dom’s; Gregoire is the victim of child labour, forced into the dangerous and abusive industry of crystal mining in Madagascar. Dom learns about a dark side to these stones that is largely overlooked by the Western world, which hopes to maintain an uncomplicated relationship to their beauty. The fourth story, “Rubber,” chronicles Oma’s journey by boat to Europe to seek refuge from instability in her home country. She is with her parents and brother as she experiences a tumultuous and nerve-wracking voyage across the sea, encountering smugglers, robbers, and unsympathetic passersby along the way. The fifth story looks at Lazlo, a Hungarian boy turning 11, venturing to town with his father, hoping for a fun birthday experience. He is quickly shocked and disappointed when he learns his father is a Nazi and has taken him to his friends in the hopes of convincing Lazlo to become one himself. Standing in the exact spot where those once killed by Nazis stood moments before their death, Lazlo reflects on his father’s choices, his own imminent choices, and humanity. What decision will Lazlo make? 

Each of these ten stories aims to elicit reflection about the readers’ past and future actions in uncertain or defenceless situations. They prompt the book’s audience to consider their empathy towards those with whom they cannot share identical experiences. Thought-provoking and emotion-evoking, Step unveils global issues that many North American youth may not be privy to, and some that they may, in an engaging way. I enjoyed that Ellis wrote from various points of view, sometimes in first person narrative and sometimes in third. I liked being able to make connections between the characters, while also seeing their differences; this set the ground for a smooth transition between stories without causing boredom or predictability. Overall, I recommend this book to a variety of readers, including fans of Ellis’s previous works, middle school students, and adults. 

Thank you to Groundwood Books for a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Anne's Tragical Tea Party by Kallie George and Illustrated by Abigail Halpin

By Cassandra Navratil

One of the best and arguably most memorable scenes in L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables is main character Anne Shirley’s tea party with her ‘kindred spirit’ and ‘bosom friend’ Diana Barry. Having read through Kallie George’s other Anne adaptations, such as Goodnight, Anne and Anne Arrives, I was eager to see how she had adapted this treasured moment for younger readers. 

At first glance, the stunning illustrations by Abigail Halpin left me feeling warm and nostalgic for my own childhood, and the image of Anne with Diana on the cover was just as I imagined them countless times before. Even if readers are not familiar with Anne outside of this book, Kallie George does a magnificent job of concisely detailing how Anne came to be living at Green Gables with the Cuthberts. The voicing of each of the characters is done in such a way that is simple yet still evokes the feeling and acknowledgement that this story is not set in our modern world. Old-fashioned language and expressions are utilized throughout the story but not overdone, and I suspect that George has done this to keep even the youngest readers engaged. My five-year-old daughter found the novel delightful and expanded her own vocabulary via her curiosity about words like “kindred” and “cordial”. 

After completing my first read-through, I checked against the original novel and found that some of the conversational text was exact, which I did not expect in a younger children’s adaptation. I am very excited for more of these adaptations to come from such a wonderfully talented Canadian children’s author.  

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Jo Jo Makoons by Dawn Quigley

By Christine McFaul

Jo Jo Makoons: The Used-To-Best Friend is an exuberant new chapter book starring a young Ojibwe girl. Written by Dawn Quigley (of the Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe), illustrated by Tara Audibert (of Wolastoqey/French heritage), and published by Heartdrum, a Native-focused imprint of HarperCollins, this book is the first volume in the Jo Jo Makoons series. 

“Hello / Boozhoo! Meet Jo Jo Makoons Azure nindizhinikaaz.” 

“Big last word, right? You sound out that last word like this: nin-DEZH-in-i-kauz. Got it? If you can say Tyrannosaurus rex, you can say nindizhinikaaz.”  

Jo Jo is a strong, smart, and irrepressible first-grader who lives on the fictional Pembina Ojibwe reservation. Humorously getting herself into, and out of, very relatable scrapes in this series opener, Jo Jo is facing two big problems: first, she is worried that her home best-friend, Mimi the cat, will deflate like a balloon when she gets her annual vaccination, and second, that her school best-friend Fern may not like her anymore. 

Quigley writes these problems with just the right amount of hilarity, hijinks, and heart. Young readers will find themselves rooting for Jo Jo as she plots to save Mimi, frets over sitting alone at lunch, struggles with language arts, and enters a contest to have her art featured on the school yearbook. Aspects of the Ojibwe way of life are beautifully and naturally woven into the story, mainly through Jo Jo’s voice, which brims with passion and pride for her family, language, and traditions.

By the end of the story, Jo Jo has expanded her view of what it means to “be a friend,” ultimately learning, “You don’t have to try to be friends with everyone. But…you should try to be friendly with everyone.”

I love a strong-voiced character for this readership age group, and Quigley delivers. As a word-nerd, I also love how this story celebrates language which includes clever wordplay, plenty of puns, as well as the sharing of the Ojibwe and Michif languages that are special to Jo Jo. The narrative is enhanced by Audibert’s illustrations, which are modern, adorable, and fun. Paced well through the book, they really bring Jo Jo’s mischievousness and the supporting cast of characters to life. Jo Jo is depicted with long hair, big eyes, and stylish, quirky clothes that match her irrepressible personality. If you didn’t find her completely irresistible via the text alone, Audibert’s illustrations will certainly finish the job.

Heartwarming, humorous, with an unforgettable main character, I loved The Used-To-Be Best Friend from beginning to end. I can’t wait to read what Jo Jo Makoons does next in the series. 

Thank you, Heartdrum and HarperCollins, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Dollhouse by Charis Cotter

By Megan Amato

After nearly three decades of declaring my apathy towards horror to anyone who will listen, this past year or so has proved that I just hadn’t explored the genre enough. I should have known better—I tell the same to those who say they hate romance. Gothic horror and ghost stories both delight and spook me, and Canadian author Charis Cotter’s middle-grade novel, The Dollhouse: A Ghost Story, was no exception. 

On their way to her mother’s new job, Alice woefully wishes for a more attentive father and imagines the train crashing when it halts abruptly. Sore and a bit dizzy, she meets Mary and her sweet, child-like 16-year-old daughter Lily when they arrive at the house. They explore the home against the cantankerous owner’s wishes and discover a dollhouse in the attic, nearly an exact replica of the house. Soon after, Alice begins to dream of the dollhouse’s creation and a mischievous girl named Fizz and her sweet, child-like older sister Bubble. When a man like her imagined father shows up, real and dream life blur as happenings in the dollhouse appear in her waking world and vice-versa. She demands an answer from smug-faced Fizz, who tells Alice that her train accident was much worse than thought—she died. A distraught Alice denies this, but too many events add up. Was her concussion causing her to hallucinate, or was she the ghost haunting Fizz’s world?

The Dollhouse combines many classic horror tropes—secret rooms, creepy dolls, ghosts that only the protagonist can see, and a plausible explanation mixed with a hint of the unexplainable—and delivers them in a mysterious package that pulls the reader into the story. I loathe when adults critique children’s books with adult book parameters. While the plot progression is a tad predictable, it didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the story, and I think middle-grade readers will enjoy guessing what is going on in that spooky house. I found the development of the story well done, and I think many of the themes (cancelled plans, divorce, lack of control, adults not listening to them) are ones that many young readers can find relatable.

Despite my enjoyment in this story, I did have one major gripe with it: how the developmental disabilities of two of the characters, Lily and Bubble, are written.  While I understand that their mirrored traits provided similarities between the protagonist’s real world and her dream/doll world, it came off as a stereotype. Lily’s otherworldly and “off with the fairies” qualities made my hackles rise as it is a common and harmful trope often written into characters with developmental disabilities. However, instead of writing it off for this problematic representation, I think parents should talk to their kids when issues arise in books so children and young adults can think critically about what they are reading.

Despite this glaring issue, I do think that middle-grade readers of ghost stories and fans of Neil Gaiman’s Graveyard Book or Coraline alike will enjoy this spooky tale. 

Thank you, Penguin Random House Canada and Tundra Books, for this copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Barren Grounds by David A. Robertson

By Christine McFaul

The Barren Grounds by Canadian author David A. Robertson is a middle-grade fantasy novel and the first book of the Misewa Saga series. I actually chose it as my most-anticipated Cloud Lake read for this fall (see Volume 3, Fall 2021 for further details), and I’m excited to get into the nitty-gritty of the reading experience. 

A quick note on art, although some middle-grade novels contain illustrations, this one does not. It doesn’t require them. Robertson’s words create a visceral and visual world that is easily imagined. I will mention, though, that the cover art is stunning and perfectly sets the tone for the text before the book is even opened.

Touted as a retelling of the classic C.S. Lewis series, the book is described as: “Narnia meets traditional Indigenous stories of the sky and constellations in an epic middle-grade fantasy series.” 

The story is told in the limited first person by Morgan, a 13-year-old First Nations teenager who has, during her short life, lived in a variety of white foster homes in Manitoba. Two months into her newest placement, she gains a younger foster brother, a quiet and artistic 12-year-old Cree boy named Eli. Morgan and Eli feel disconnected at home, don’t fit in at school, and barely get along with each other. So, it isn’t surprising that when they discover a portal that leads, Narnia-like, to a magical world beyond, they have very different ideas about what to do. Eli, recognizing an affinity for what lies ahead, is eager to explore, while Morgan, seeing only potential pitfalls in the unknown, prefers to stay put in the real world. The two argue, and Morgan says hurtful words to Eli. Later, he disappears through the portal, and Morgan must follow him into the barren grounds of Misewa to apologize and convince him to come home.

Once there, Morgan discovers that the Misewa community—in the frozen grips of the White Time—is on the brink of starvation and cannot survive much longer. Determined to help, she reunites with Eli and the two join forces with Ochek (Fisher), the last hunter of Misewa, and Arik, a squirrel with excellent comedic timing. Their unlikely crew embarks on a dangerous mission to end Misewa’s frozen misery and bring back summer.

In Misewa, Morgan and Eli speak “the good language,” or Cree, learn the traditional way of surviving, and connect with Indigenous stories and philosophies. 

“Kiskisitotaso…I know that word,” he said. “In English, it means something like, ‘Don’t forget about who you are’….”

Robertson deftly uses both the contemporary and fantasy settings (and sometimes the tension between them) to explore themes of identity, family, culture, alienation, and connection in heartbreaking, humorous, philosophical but always relateable teenage ways.  

To me, one of the most interesting aspects of Robertson’s narrative is his study of anger, and ultimately, forgiveness. Explored through the narrative itself, as well as through teachings, these twin concepts are unravelled throughout the story in many interesting and nuanced ways. 

I entered into this reading experience with high hopes and The Barren Grounds delivered. Morgan is one of my favourite types of female protagonists, angry but with a sense of humour about it, good-hearted but not a goody-goody, strong, smart, and above all, interesting. Voice, which can be tricky in the middle-grade category, and worldbuilding, which can make or break fantasy, are both executed seamlessly. I am looking forward to getting my hands on the next book in this series and curious to see whether there will be a shift to Eli as the narrator or stick with Morgan? Robertson seems to leave the door open to either of those possibilities.

Book Review: The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

By Larissa Page

Content warning (for young minds): Alcohol use

The Prince and the Dressmaker is a middle-grade graphic novel I recently picked up to buddy read with my eight-year-old.  She read it before I did and was very excited when I picked it up as well.

It follows a prince who hires a personal seamstress to make him custom dresses so he can stop wearing his mother’s in secret. With her help, he attends events and makes friends and connections as Lady Crystallia. They become close friends and the seamstress makes her own connections for her fashion genius. When fear of being discovered causes the Prince to take actions that hurt the seamstress, she’s sent back to working for someone else instead of making her mark on the fashion world. When the Prince is found out anyway, he risks being disowned by his parents and the larger world in general. For fear of ruining it, I will not include the ending except to say it is wholesome, heartwarming, and completely lovely.

This graphic novel creates an incredible doorway into talking to your kids about what it means to be true to themselves and the importance of loving others as they are, even for their differences. The prince describes very well “why” he sometimes dresses in dresses and sometimes in his princely clothing (sometimes as Lady Crystallia and sometimes as Prince Sebastian). It is important to place these types of books into the hands of youth (and adults!) to build empathy towards people. I feel this one does that particularly well. I also really appreciated the underlying romance because even though Prince Sebastian sometimes felt more comfortable dressing as Lady Crystallia, it didn’t assume that he was also attracted to men. Perhaps he was, but by allowing romance to happen between him and the seamstress, it shows us (and our children) that clothing, gender identity, and sexual orientation are all different aspects of someone’s personality.

Book Review: City of Water by Andrea Curtis

By Ashliegh Gehl

The water cycle is a beautiful event happening all around us. We feel the precipitation on our skin when walking in the rain or in the thick of an icy winter, catching snowflakes on our tongues. It’s a vital recycling system providing water for all living organisms, and the act of transference is largely invisible. Even when admiring beautiful, fluffy clouds, we romanticize them instead of dwelling on the mechanics.  

Andrea Curtis’s City of Water, a 40-page nonfiction picture book published by Groundwood Books (May 2021), opens with a stunning illustration of the water cycle by illustrator Katy Dockrill. It sets a warm, interconnected tone for the book which both child and adult readers will love. Those familiar with Curtis’s work, such as A Forest in the City, will feel right at home among these pages as they are immersed in the fine needlework of Curtis’s storytelling. 

Straight from the top, Curtis and Dockrill point to an interesting juxtaposition: the movement of water above ground and the system of pipes below. To most, what’s underground is invisible infrastructure. It’s out of sight and out of mind because we merely walk on top of it, unaware of the strategic framework that brings water to, in some cities, millions of people. Throughout the book, Curtis and Dockrill make the invisible visible. If seeing is believing, then Curtis and Dockrill are reinforcing a critical reminder: not everything is as it seems. 

Throughout City of Water, Curtis and Dockrill demonstrate how there is more to water than the cool, clean stream flowing out of our kitchen faucets. In each spread, Curtis narrows the focus and further isolates the movement of water, answering all the questions one may have about how it gets from rain clouds to rivers and eventually to our homes.

Written for audiences aged eight to twelve years old, City of Water ignites a much-needed conversation about a delicate and finite resource that sustains life on earth—a resource humans wouldn’t be able to live without. It’s a sombre thought, but as Curtis so cleverly writes, “The history of cities begins with water—most urban centers grew up near rivers, lakes, or oceans. But as cities expanded, it became necessary to supply residents with drinking water and sanitation systems to get rid of waste.” 

Curtis’s sharp, to-the-point style swiftly takes the reader through the history of water and how, for many around the world, access to it is a constant challenge. A further challenge is that water that is accessible may not be suited for drinking due to pollutants and disease. 

What’s endearing about City of Water is its constant message of hope–and that it’s not too late to make change. Dockrill smartly uses raindrops with illustrations of people and animals within them. Imagine a future where children grow up to see themselves in every droplet of rain and fully understand that their behaviours and actions have an immediate impact on the water cycle. The thread of interconnectedness throughout City of Water is so beautifully fluid that it inspires active participation in making our world a better place.