Tag: Picture Book Reviews

Picture Book Review: The Panda Problem by Deborah Underwood

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The Panda Problem
Author: Deborah Underwood
Illustrator: Hannah Marks
Dial Books
2 April 2019
48 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Biggest Panda Fan at Only Picture Books) and OPB review newcomer, Florida author-​illustrator Loreen Leedy.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

One thing that we’ve come to expect from Underwood’s books is how stories themselves are often part of the story. In her latest picture book, The Panda Problem, that’s exactly what’s happening. A Narrator (yes, that’s with a capital N since this one’s quite the active character here) is trying to set up a story about Panda in a “beautiful bamboo grove,” but despite the Narrator’s insistence that a main character has to have a problem, Panda claims to not have one. “Looks like you’re the one with a problem, buddy,” Panda explains to the Narrator.

The story gets fairly chaotic from there in a fun way that will delight readers, especially once the setting moves far from the bamboo grove. Thankfully, the art clearly showcases the two distinct voices. Panda’s words are always in cartoon-​style speech bubbles, and those by the Narrator look like regular text on the page, which gives the words an adult, authorial seriousness to them. Together, they create a fast-​paced dialogue that roars along as Panda tries to help make the story, well, a story. Sort of.

A bonus is that Underwood includes plenty of kid-​pleasing sound effects, as well (witness a spider who says “BRAAAAP!” and the GLUG GLUG SLOSH of Panda’s paper boat wipeout).

While other picture book authors have had characters who wrest control of the story from a narrator/​author, Underwood’s adorable Panda does it in a fun, memorable way that doesn’t get overly meta and also introduces readers to storytelling techniques (such as dialogue and the escalation of stakes).

Even though I’m an admitted panda bear fan, this is a highly entertaining, witty read regardless.

4.25 out of 5 pencils

– Loreen’s Review of the Illustrations–

The premise of this cheeky picture book can be found on the book jacket as Panda disputes the title The Panda Problem right on the front cover by asking, “What problem?” Mysterious round purple characters hint at mysteries to unfold. On the back cover, Panda is smirking after drawing a line through the floating headline NO PROBLEM, NO STORY and rewriting it as NO STORY, NO PROBLEM!

Continuing the theme, the front flap copy originally stated that the author “…puts readers in control of this story.” However, our main character has revised it to read “…puts readers PANDA in control of this story.” The back flap copy has likewise been extensively revised by the irrepressible bear.

The color scheme is at first limited to black, white, olive greens, and purple only. The digitally painted illustrations include bamboo stalks with a subtle cloth texture and energetic dry brushed leaves, while Panda has loosely drawn line work enclosing the white parts of the body. Backgrounds are primarily white space in the beginning of the book, keeping the focus on Panda and the argument with the Narrator about whether or not Panda needs a story problem to be solved. The empty white space can also be an indication of the (seemingly) unfinished state the story is in.

As the debate continues, one spread is filled with possible problems proposed by the Narrator such as “Are you afraid of spiders?” or “Is your paw sore?” and Panda’s repeated answers, “Nope.” Once they’re mentioned, comical spiders appear in the artwork. The Narrator’s words are in a clean sans serif font while Panda speaks with lively handwritten words inside expressive speech balloons with oval, undulating, or spiky shapes. When the Narrator gets especially frustrated, her words are set in ALL CAPS.

Rich photographic textures add interest and additional colors to the illustrations, such as woven fibers in a hammock, wood grain in a banjo, and crumpled paper in a sailboat. As Panda induces a multi-​hued torrent of jelly beans by merely mentioning the possibility, the Narrator loses control of events. At this point the aliens arrive, portrayed as happy purple fuzzballs who accompany Panda to Antarctica.

The scenes become increasingly chaotic as spiders, penguins, aliens, and (suddenly) twin pandas sail across the icy waters then are shipwrecked. Panda’s worried face is seen in extreme close-​up while finally giving in and admitting there’s a problem. After wailing about their hunger and the complete lack of bamboo in Antarctica, the two pandas make a deal for the Narrator to take over again, sort of. The last page is blank except for the Narrator’s final, satisfying word.

Self-​taught illustrator and designer Hannah Marks lives and works in England; The Panda Problem is her first picture book released in the United States. The design of the type and illustrations perfectly complement and extend the concepts within about the power of words, creativity, writing, characters, illustration, and of course, story problems.

4 out of 5 crayons

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Loreen Leedy is the author-​illustrator of more than 40 popular picture books that have received many rave reviews and honors. Her titles such as Measuring Penny, Amazing Plant Powers, and Crazy Like a Fox: A Simile Story often include math, science, and language arts content. Her most recent book, Step by Step, features footprints made by baby animals including a puppy, duckling, and fawn in a page-​turning question and answer format. It makes an appealing nonfiction choice for preschool, kindergarten, and first grade age levels.

To see Loreen’s work and download free book activity printables, please visit www.LoreenLeedy.com.

Picture Book Review: Soar High, Dragonfly! by Sheri Mabry Bestor

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Soar High, Dragonfly!
Author: Sheri Mabry Bestor
Illustrator: Jonny Lambert
Sleeping Bear Press
14 March 2019
32 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Top Science Buff at Only Picture Books) and OPB review newcomer, freelance artist Austin McKinley.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

Soar High, Dragonfly!, the new picture book by Sheri Mabry Bestor (author of Good Trick Walking Stick), gives readers insight into the world of dragonflies with just enough science to work into STEM curricula.

The text works in two ways–the large-​font words at the top of each page make up the lyrical story of a dragonfly’s life cycle. That’s where we find techniques such as onomatopoeia where we hear the POP POP POP of a dragonfly laying eggs onto the water surface. It’s there that readers encounter strong words (squirts, thrusts, captures, gulp!) that make the moments come alive.

But the differently-​colored words–generally found at the bottom of many of the pages–work like a sidebar. The supplementary text there is informative and very straightforward, such as “Dragonfly eggs are very small and have no way to protect themselves. Many are eaten by fish, frogs, and other insects before they have a chance to hatch.” Science-​reluctant readers could potentially skip those parts and still find much to enjoy from this book, though without a doubt, this information adds to the overall experience.

While the sidebar-​style parts give this book depth, a robust backmatter section might’ve given this book a little extra oomph that so many nonfiction titles have today. Regardless, it’s a compelling title made even more so by the vibrant art that makes the “insect hero” of this story come alive.

4 out of 5 pencils

– Austin’s Review of the Illustrations–

Prolific UK illustrator Jonny Lambert graces the book with lustrous, intricately cut and collage-​textured compositions. A comparison to Eric Carle’s 1969 classic The Very Hungry Caterpillar would be apt, because of the saturated palette and rich patterns, but also a disservice because Lambert brings his own expert and playful animator’s draftsmanship to bear, creating a warmly familiar but entirely distinct sensibility—and an order of magnitude more detail.

In a career spanning over 300 titles, Lambert has interpreted almost every member of the animal kingdom.  Although only the second collaboration with the author of Soar High Dragonfly, this is a rare example of Lambert’s insect renderings which he nevertheless approaches with adroit sensitivity. Even a brown, molting nymph seems friendly and endearing, while maintaining the book’s blend of elementary simplification and scientific accuracy.

Amazingly in the digital age, the technique is a traditional one, involving—as the artist says—layers of gouache “tickled” through individual stencils derived from hand-​drawn designs, and finished with colored pencil. His artistic attention seems to be lavished on every aspect of the process, from playful character creation to painstaking execution.

The book’s broad cast of predators and prey play out their primal drama amid a sumptuous environment of swirling shallow water and lush aquatic plant life, and Lambert’s spacious layouts and text interactions underscore the joy of flight embraced by a jewel-​toned master of his medium.

4 out of 5 crayons

Austin McKinley’s work crosses many different forms of media, from comic books and cartooning to short film directing, video production, video games, screenplays, novels and novellas. Most recently he produced, shot and appeared in the award-​winning feature documentary “The New 8‑Bit Heroes” alongside director Joe Granato, and created “By The Numbers,” a feature-​length abstract animation representing cinematic structure. He is the author of several works and collections through his company, Flying Car. His comic illustrations have also been published by Image Shadowline, Devil’s Due/​1st Comics, Alias/​Blue Water Press, Avatar, Boom!, Blue King Studios, and FC9. He wrote and illustrated “Squareasota,” a weekly cartoon in the Sarasota Herald-​Tribune for seven years. He lives and works in Sarasota.
Learn more about Austin and his work:

Picture Book Review: It’s Not Hansel and Gretel by Josh Funk

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It’s Not Hansel and Gretel (It’s Not a Fairy Tale)
Author: Josh Funk
Illustrator: Edwardian Taylor
Two Lions
1 March 2019
40 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (#1 fairy tale fan at Only Picture Books) and Ringling College of Art and Design Illustration Professor (and OPB mega-​fan) David C. Gardner.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

It’s Not Hansel and Gretel is the newest Josh Funk book, and if you’ve read any of his picture books before (such as Lady Pancake & Sir French Toast, How to Code a Sandcastle, and Lost the Library: A Story of Patience & Fortitude), you know to expect:

  • an unexpected take on subject matter
  • a kid-​friendly sense of whimsy
  • witty wordplay

It’s official–It’s Not Hansel and Gretel delivers on all counts.

There’s a narrator here trying their best to keep this story under control, but the rapscallion duo of Hansel and Gretel keep yanking this fairy tale in different directions. The art clues us in when this happens by using speech bubbles that work against the words the narrator uses, which are in cast in a fancy, Old Timey font that seems straight out of the days of illuminated manuscripts written by monks beneath candlelight.

To offer just one example of how these kids push the story off the rails, the poor narrator tells the reader how the pair “left a trail of bread crumbs leading back home” to which the kids respond with:

Gretel: What type of person SAVES bread crumbs?

Hansel: It’s a time of great famine. If there are bread crumbs left, we eat them!

Gretel: Now I’m hungry! Why’d you have to bring up bread crumbs?

Things get worse from there for the narrator who wants to stick with the traditional story, with my favorite moment being when Gretel asks, “Why isn’t it ever Gretel and Hansel?” She even points out that alphabetically speaking, G comes before H, and while a giggling kid reader likely doesn’t stop to think about the problem of legacy thinking–doing something because it’s always been done that way, or perhaps subconsciously privileging males more than females–those topics are there for adults who want to dive into that end of the pool.

One clear instance of Funk’s wordplay happens when the witch begins to cast a spell, intoning “Double, double toil and trouble.” And Gretel says, “I can’t hear you over that noisy oven. Did you say TOILET trouble?”

That’s a burst-​out-​loud kid pleasing moment, to be sure. It’s entirely possible a member of the OPB staff had chocolate milk come out of their nose thanks to laughter here, as well. 

I’m also quite taken with how the kids are practical and have a positivity about them that helps save the day. Those are two good lessons beyond the legacy thinking idea and issues of gender and power that are lightly touched upon during the course of this story.

The ending, too, is full of cameos from other fairy tale friends, and it’s a surprising yet satisfying conclusion to this irreverent take on an old, old tale. Highly recommended. For those who get a real kick out of this kind of fun, check out the first book in Funk’s It’s Not a Fairy Tale series–It’s Not Jack and the Beanstalk.

4.75 out of 5 pencils

– David’s Review of the Illustrations–

In the 1800s, children’s books were meant for moral education. But in the last century, some argued that it was enough to aim to entertain a child.

There’s no deep message in It’s Not Hansel and Gretel, but it’s a heap of entertaining fun.

Flipping through the illustrations by Edwardian Taylor is like watching a cartoon on TV, one of those vintage Fractured Fairytales, or Powerpuff Girls. This no accident; Taylor also designs for animation. I’ll confess, I’m not a big fan of the trend of children’s books mimicking slick Cartoon Network shows, but Taylor knows his stuff, and he takes full advantage of the picture book form, packing each spread with funny visual asides for kids (and adults). Look closely and you’ll discover treats on every page: Thumbelina in a corner chatting with a bird twice her size, the Seven Dwarves marching to work in the forest background, cute recurring elves in just about every spread. The clever, ebullient pictures establish from the start that we are in a world populated by fairy tale characters (a device that pays off wittily in the end–but I won’t give anything away.…)

Another note on the visuals: The great art direction makes it a breeze to tell who is talking on each page; every voice has its own font, a trick Walt Kelly pioneered in his classic comic strip Pogo.

Taylor’s character designs are fluid and manic in a way that perfectly fits the story’s tone, and his color palette is fabulous, too–muted greens and browns in the opening pages make way for the explosion of candy colors when the kids discover the gingerbread house. Close-​ups pull us into the center of the action, sometimes making an image hard to read at first glance. But in a picture book, where the child has plenty of time to peruse a picture, that’s not a problem. Add the bright, but controlled, colors–as sweet as the witch’s house–and you’ve got a book that’s an immersive experience, a cool hybrid of children’s book and animated cartoon, a perfect confection for our time.

5 out of 5 crayons

David C. Gardner is an award-​winning illustrator and visual development artist. A former artist for Walt Disney Animation Studios, he has illustrated numerous picture books, including his latest from Sleeping Bear Press, Write On, Irving Berlin! by Leslie Kimmelman (which appeared on OPB not so long ago). It tells the true story of little Izzy Baline, who immigrated to New York City in 1893 and grew up to become Irving Berlin, one of the most well-​known composers of popular music in America. David teaches illustration at Ringling College of Art and Design.
 
To learn more about David’s own work, please visit FlyingDogStudio.com.

Picture Book Review: Henry the Boy by Molly Felder

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Henry the Boy
Author: Molly Felder
Illustrator: Nate Christopherson & Tara Sweeney
Penny Candy Books
2 March 2019
36 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (#1 Sticker Enthusiast at Only Picture Books) and Ringling College of Art and Design Illustration Professor (and OPB superfan) John Herzog.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

The back cover text clues us in:“This is a story not about a heron or a robot or a chicken, but about me: Henry the boy.” Henry the Boy is indeed about Henry, told from his own perspective of being a kid who click-​click-​clicks around using forearm crutches decorated with animal stickers.

The sense of frustration Henry feels thanks to his physical challenge is apparent when he heads into the bathroom.

I looked into the mirror and
tried to stand straighter.

But I stood like me.

One of my crutches
slipped away.

And
Smack!
I fell.

But Henry has a friend–Joel–who accepts him for who he is and helps support him, whether it’s physically helping Henry up when he falls, or offering Henry a sponge dinosaur that Joel said was supposed to grow when submerged in water, but it didn’t. Henry loved the gift regardless of whether it did was it was supposed to do or not. Perhaps he loved it more for that fact.

Through all the challenges that one might expect the only kid at school with a mobility aid to face, Henry perseveres. And that’s what this book is about. It’s one kid’s story of perseverance, self-​reliance, and the power of the imagination.

Henry the Boy is a compelling book about a type of character we don’t often see in picture books. It doesn’t surprise me in the least to learn that author Molly Felder has cerebral palsy, and has a physical assistance dog, Patterson, that helps her by opening doors, turning lights on and off, “and much more.” It’s no wonder that this book resonates with an authenticity that gives the emotional texture readers want, but it also offers some welcome optimism, too, and not just because the pictures in the final few pages pop with brightness.

4.5 out of 5 pencils

 

–John’s Review of the Illustrations–

The term I would use to best describe the illustrations in Henry the Boy is an oxymoronic one: Precise sloppiness. Or, if you prefer, sloppy precision. To be clear, in no way do I mean that as a negative. On the contrary, the illustrations in Henry the Boy complement the story and subject matter extraordinarily well.

From the beginning when we’re introduced to Henry, we get a very strong sense of the eclectic and endearing style of the book. Backgrounds are rendered in bright, unwieldy watercolors while the characters are outlined in ink and filled in with light pencil and even lighter watercolor wash. This stark contrast not only helps bring focus to the characters, but it also makes the neon colors surrounding the characters that much brighter. There’s such a tangible feeling to this book because of the use of traditional media, and it helps to connect us to Henry. It almost feels as if Henry himself is illustrating his story, helping us get a glimpse of how he views the world.

The illustrations here are messy but they’re not a mess. Everything that’s happening visually feels deliberate, in spite of the random stains and splotches that adorn most pages. This book is very much a commentary on what it can be like to have a disability, and how it feels to have no control over the world around you. It certainly makes Henry more sympathetic to the reader because of all the colorful chaos around him that he is unable to control.

My only criticism of the book–and it’s a minor issue–is the design of the characters/​animals. While they do provide contrast to the watercolor backgrounds, I think the execution could have been a little more precise. Henry is charming with his cowlick and the wave of thin hair draped over his forehead, but I feel all of the characters could have been cleaner and more appealing from a design standpoint.

But that’s a minor criticism of an otherwise wonderful marriage of words and images that is Henry the Boy. I’m excited to see what mother-​and-​son illustration team Tara Sweeney and Nate Christopherson do next.

4.5 out of 5 crayons

John Herzog is an illustrator and educator. His clients include Hasbro, Dreamworks TV, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, and Highlights for Children. He also teaches illustration classes at Ringling College of Art and Design.

 John is a member of the Society of Illustrators and SCBWI, and received the 2018 SCBWI Magazine Merit Award for his Highlights High Five cover illustration. He lives in Florida with his wife, two kids, a pair of tarantulas, a bearded dragon, and a fish.

 He is represented by Shannon Associates.

Picture Book Review: Small Walt and Mo the Tow

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Small Walt and Mo the Tow
Author: Elizabeth Verdick
Illustrator: Marc Rosenthal
Simon & Schuster/​Paula Wiseman Books
30 October 2018
40 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (#1 snowplow aficionado at Only Picture Books) and Ringling College of Art and Design Illustration Professor (and frequent OPB helper-​outter) David C. Gardner.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

Small Walt and Mo the Tow is the sequel to the 2017 book Small Walt, which was a delight. This new title has a simple plot–a “bitter blizzard” has come so Gus (the driver) and Walt are off to clear the roads with “a big load of ice-​melting salt.” When a little green car slides off a forest road and FWUMPs into a ditch, Walt wants to use his scoop to save the day, but Gus says, “Now, now. Plows only scoop snow.”

It’s Mo the Tow to the rescue, along with Mo’s driver Sue, who wears a bright blue coat. Only Mo’s tires can’t get a grip of the slick ice, so Walt does his part to plow the snow and use his spreader to drop salt with a “switch-​twist, switch-​twist.” And from that moment on, new friendships are made, and the little green car is rescued at last.

The vehicles have a good deal of personality, which is certainly part of the fun. Yet what young readers might respond best to is the attention to sound, both in the alliteration (“swish the slush” etc.) as well as the many instances of onomatopoeia (“Whumpa-​thumpa-​bumpa-​bump!” and “Rugga-​brum-​brum, HUMMAROOOM!”).

This is a sweet story of friendship and kindness. If you liked Small Walt, then this sequel likely won’t disappoint you.

4 out of 5 pencils

– David’s Review of the Illustrations–

This sequel starts with a long view of the town, like a child’s eye view of a toy village, then the pictures swoop in to immerse us in the action. And it is all action, essentially a narrative of pulling a stuck car out of the snow. 

Rosenthal’s pictures border on crude, done in what looks to be heavy-​colored pencil or thick crayon. (I will confess I have always been skeptical of the notion that children want to look at pictures that look like something they might create themselves.) Rosenthal’s simple illustrations for the Small Walt books have been rightly compared to Virginia Lee Burton’s classic books like The Little House (1942), Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel (1939), and especially Katy and the Big Snow (1943), and they do share that childlike quality and charm. Burton worked in this medium too, but her work was more refined, like fine miniatures, starting with soft watercolor washes, then layering in colored pencil with attention to tiny details.

The looseness here is not necessarily a weakness, though; it gives the book a contemporary feel. Rosenthal has a wide-​ranging portfolio as an illustrator for magazines, advertising, and books, and his style consistently pays homage to illustration styles of the past, always with a clever twist so that we never forget his work is of-the-moment.

And this book is no different.

Rosenthal is, in a sense, playing jazz, not Beethoven. That freshness helps to convey the immediacy of the story for its very young audience. The illustrations also amp up the charm considerably, giving the book a hip coolness without being cynical, and never tipping over in the other direction into easy, sappy cuteness.

3 out of 5 crayons

David C. Gardner is an award-​winning illustrator and visual development artist. A former artist for Walt Disney Animation Studios, he has illustrated numerous picture books, including his latest from Sleeping Bear Press, Write On, Irving Berlin! by Leslie Kimmelman (which appeared on OPB not so long ago). It tells the true story of little Izzy Baline, who immigrated to New York City in 1893 and grew up to become Irving Berlin, one of the most well-​known composers of popular music in America. David teaches illustration at Ringling College of Art and Design.

To learn more about his work, please visit FlyingDogStudio.com.

Picture Book Review: Gittel’s Journey: An Ellis Island Story by Lesléa Newman

On By Only Picture BooksIn Picture Book Reviews

Gittel’s Journey: An Ellis Island Story
Author: Lesléa Newman
Illustrator: Amy June Bates
Abrams Books for Young Readers
5 February 2019
48 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Top journey-​taker at Only Picture Books) and Ringling College of Art and Design Illustration Professor (and OPB pal) John Herzog.

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

Gittel’s Journey tells the story–based on a pair of oral tales from the author’s family–of a nine-​year-​old girl being sent to America in the latter part of the 19th century while her mother has to stay behind because of an eye infection. Along the lengthy journey, the address on a piece of paper becomes smudged, so poor Gittel doesn’t know where to go when she arrives. I’ll hold off on revealing the ending but suffice to say, it’s both heartfelt and glorious.

Gittel’s Journey is one of those books that–even without the back matter–runs closer to 1,000 words than the 300 that so many literary agents and editors claim is the new norm. But the story necessitates it. And never did I have that somewhat common thought as I read: “Wow, this feels looooooong.”

That extra space allows for Newman to offer quiet moments of delicious sensory detail such as Gittel grabbing onto the ship’s “cold, wet railing” or how when she finally arrives at Ellis Island, the “ocean spray smacked Gittel in the face, and when she licked her lips, she tasted salt.” It also allows the the room for this story to unfold with the quiet tenderness it deserves. Nothing feels rushed.

Newman’s skill with language is also on full display with how she weaves in Yiddish words (always italicized) throughout the story. The context of those words give more than enough clues as to their meanings so not knowing Yiddish isn’t an issue.

The extensive Author’s Note, bibliography, and short glossary all add to the story and provide more interesting context to the immigrant experience as well.

This is a terrific book with spot-​on illustrations (see below for John’s glowing review on that aspect) that brings social issues into the realm of picture books in an effective, memorable way. It’s a fine, fine book worthy of your bookshelf space.

4.75 out of 5 pencils

 

–John’s Review of the Illustrations–

In today’s political and social climate in our great American experiment, we need a book like Gittel’s Journey. We need it to remind us of our past, where we come from, and why we’re here. We need it to remind us of the immense value of patience, kindness, and bravery. We need it to remind us of what made America truly great.

The story here is incredible, and based on the true events of a young girl who travels to America alone in search of a better life–without the use of a smart phone or GPS (terrifying). An amazing story like this requires amazing illustrations, and the work by Amy June Bates does not disappoint. In fact, it stands toe-​to-​toe with the story and–dare I say–elevates the book to a whole new level.

In a sea of muted browns and grays, little Gittel stands out with her red hood, pink apron, and bright green bag. We know this is her story. The progression of color throughout the book is breathtaking, helping guide is from that which is familiar to that which is not and back again. Gittel’s home country is depicted in very warm, inviting tones while her journey is very muted, cold and drab. Thankfully, the warm tones return at the end as Gittel’s cousin meets her for the first time, and into the final page when Gittel is reunited with her mother. It’s this mastery of color progression that makes us care about the safety of Gittel, and relieved when she is reunited with family.

The print quality of this book is exquisite. I love that tinted paper was used–a nod to a time long past. The whites used in the illustrations really pop against the colored paper, and helps create contrast and appealing movement in the images. The sketchy figures, the watercolor, the stamp-​like borders and filigree–all of it transports me back to what I would imagine this time period was like, yet fuzzied and faded by time.

This is an important book, both for children and adults. As Americans, we seem to have such a short memory when it comes to how important immigrants are to this country. It’s books like this that help us remember that, and what this country should stand for:

“The Statue of Liberty,” said a man standing beside Gittel, as he
waved his cap in the air and wept. “She’s welcoming us to America.”

Gittel’s Journey is a masterpiece.

5 out of 5 crayons

John Herzog is an illustrator and educator. His clients include, Hasbro, James Patterson, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, and Highlights for Children. He also teaches illustration classes at Ringling College of Art and Design. He lives in Florida with his wife, two kids, a pair of tarantulas, a bearded dragon, and a fish.