–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

It’s incredibly challenging to create a picture book that primarily deals with emotions, but that’s the task Hallee Adelman sets for herself in Way Past Mad. Right from the start, our protagonist Keya is indeed wronged–her little brother Nate messes up her room. Then he inexplicably feeds Keya’s breakfast cereal to their dog. While those two things don’t seem especially malicious, the fact that he “ruined my favorite hat” puts Keya over the edge.

I get it. Little siblings can drive you bonkers. I know that truth from my own childhood, and I see it in the sometimes-​tumultuous lives of my two daughters.

Adelman presents Keya’s anger in this story as something that makes one lose control. That sense of being out of control is shown in how she kicks rocks and sticks on the way to school, and in how, for her, it’s “the kind of mad that starts and swells and spreads like a rash.” That’s a memorable way to describe being mad, though it feels a bit off in that anger flares to life and grows far faster than any rash does, both in real life and in this story. In contrast, Keya’s happiness at the end of the story that “starts and swells and spreads like a smile” feels like a much more apt comparison.

For me, the fuzzy part of Way Past Mad was coming to grips with what being mad is to Keya. If she’s “way past mad,” how can Keya blame it for her saying unkind things to her friend, Hooper (“But my mad made me say it”)? This might seem like I’m nitpicking, but is being mad a destination/​place/​situation/​state of being, or is it its own thing, like an entity one must deal with, as some books present via personification? Does anger have power over you? If so, how can that be the case if one is “way past mad” versus, say, being in the “clutches of anger” or something along those lines?

While Keya owns up to her anger-​infused behavior and apologizes to Hooper, there’s no parallel resolution with Keya’s little brother, despite him doing the three things that kick off this emotional story. Keya clearly values friendship, however, and she learns that things done in the heat of anger–though that’s my language again that doesn’t quite jibe with how this book presents it–aren’t usually that helpful, and those are solid takeaways. I just wish the level of emotional insight the book offered from start to finish was as rich and compelling as the terrific, bold cover that initially drew me to this book.

3.5 out of 5 pencils

–Linda’s Review of the Illustrations–

The jacket for Way Past Mad attracted me–a little girl’s furious face boldly drawn in white and black on a bright red background. But we are not introduced to this narrator on the opening page. Bright plaid endpapers and cheery repetitive colors dissipate the cover’s promise of drama. This is a story of building anger that explodes into regrettable action, leaving the protagonist in a dark, lonely place until she finds resolution. What I miss here is a visual story arc that supports the text’s arc.

Design strategies–varying the focus, or the size of the art (like in Where the Wild Things Are), expressive color temperature and dark/​light values, mood-​setting endpapers and front matter–can reinforce story and feelings. Instead, the frown on Keya’s face is our primary visual indicator of her emotional landscape.

During the story, Keya fantasizes she is a champion runner, but there are no compositional clues to indicate these three scenes are in her imagination. She shows up later, in “real time,” wearing the star she won during her fantasy, which furthers the confusion.

Sandra de la Prada created appealing characters and did a competent job illustrating Way Past Mad, but I cannot help regretting opportunities missed by her and the book’s art director/​designer.

3 out of 5 crayons