Under the Lilacs

January 13, 2020
Feeling ignored by her busy mother and older sister, Kate leaves a note and runs away. She doesn’t go far, just outdoors—a lush, spring green dreamscape conjured in Goodale’s light-as-air monoprint, ink, and digital collage—to a lilac bush, where she constructs a house for herself out of cardboard, sticks, and tape, and decides, with industrious confidence, that she “could live here, under the lilacs.” Kate’s voice succinctly captures the whirling emotions of childhood’s lonely moments, deftly balancing sulky isolation with the need for attention and companionship. In slippery slope fashion, she opens her tiny home to the family cat, Mango (“she can sleep on my pillow like always”), her sister (“Mango might miss Hannah,/ so I should probably make a room for her”), and her mother (“Mango might also miss Mom”). After Kate’s cardboard house fills with family, Goodale (Here and Now), making her solo debut, cleverly reveals that it is a miniature version of Kate’s real home, down to the stones lining the walkway and the round window up top. A gentle glimpse at a child’s newfound independence and impulse to escape, “at least for a little while.” Ages 4–7. Agent: Lori Kilkelly, LK Literary.

January 15, 2020
A declaration to run away from home leads to an awfully cozy escape. Kate's sister, Hannah, has shut the door on Kate's toe, and Mom is giving flute lessons to neighborhood kids. What more reason would one need to run away? So, determined, Kate gathers duct tape and cardboard and proceeds to construct a little home under the lilacs in the neighbor's yard. And because Mango the cat might miss her sister and her mother, she'll build them additional rooms as well. Soon enough Hannah, Mom, and even one of Mom's flute students show up on Kate's cardboard doorstep, happy to live under the lilacs, "At least for a little while." Goodale keeps the text short and sweet from the initial line, "Sometimes I want to run away," to the penultimate declarative sentence, "Yes, I think I could stay here, under the lilacs." And some canny young readers may well pierce the veil around Kate's protestations that it is Mango who will be missing Hannah and Mom. The illustrations combine print, drawing, and digital techniques, making for a truly attractive mélange that evinces early spring days, green fields, and blue skies swept with clouds. After reading this book, who wouldn't want to try their own hand at a little independence? Kate, Hannah, and Mom have pale skin and straight, dark hair; Mom's flute student has brown skin and puffy brown hair. Running away never looked so good. (Picture book. 3-6)

COPYRIGHT(2020) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

February 1, 2020

K-Gr 2-Kate feels ignored by her mother and sister and decides to run away. She leaves a note that explains what she's doing-and that no one will ever see her again. But her far-off adventure takes her to none other than her own backyard, beneath the lilacs. Sticks and cardboard become the makings of her new home. Kate figures out how she can be sure to see her dog and cat, and then slowly begins to expand her space to include others. Soon enough, she is thinking of ways to have her mother and sister in her new home too, under the lilacs. Mixed media illustrations, with eye-catching pastels and ink drawings, complement the theme of finding a space of one's own while still making room for those you love. VERDICT Ezra Jack Keats Award winner Goodale succeeds in offering a contemplative and relatable work that affirms and reflects the complex emotional lives of young children. Recommended for most picture book collections.-Kristen Todd-Wurm, Middle Country Public Library, NY

Copyright 2020 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

July 1, 2020
"Sometimes I want to run away," says a girl staring out a window. She'd like some company and is frustrated not to have it. Her mother is busy teaching music lessons, and her sister would rather be alone. The girl slides a note under her mother's door and, with her cat Mango by her side, runs away -- to the top of a nearby hill, that is. Under a lilac tree, she constructs for herself a small fort out of cardboard and sticks, one that resembles the house she's just left, and wonders if anyone will notice that she's gone. Though disappointed by her family, she misses them and ensures that there's room for them all inside her fort. The family members eventually head outside to join her under the lilacs -- although possibly only in her imagination. A lush, lemony yellow and soft, warmly colored shades of green dominate Goodale's deliciously textured monoprint illustrations in the form of the brilliant light outdoors and the grasses where the girl builds her home-away-from-home. Vividly popping off the pages is the lavender of the flowering lilacs on the tree guarding the girl's construction. Goodale examines with sensitivity the need for children to occasionally break away and find their own space for solitude while simultaneously exploring the sense of security they get from a loving, if sometimes distracted, family.

(Copyright 2020 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)

July 1, 2020
"Sometimes I want to run away, " says a girl staring out a window. She'd like some company and is frustrated not to have it. Her mother is busy teaching music lessons, and her sister would rather be alone. The girl slides a note under her mother's door and, with her cat Mango by her side, runs away -- to the top of a nearby hill, that is. Under a lilac tree, she constructs for herself a small fort out of cardboard and sticks, one that resembles the house she's just left, and wonders if anyone will notice that she's gone. Though disappointed by her family, she misses them and ensures that there's room for them all inside her fort. The family members eventually head outside to join her under the lilacs -- although possibly only in her imagination. A lush, lemony yellow and soft, warmly colored shades of green dominate Goodale's deliciously textured monoprint illustrations in the form of the brilliant light outdoors and the grasses where the girl builds her home-away-from-home. Vividly popping off the pages is the lavender of the flowering lilacs on the tree guarding the girl's construction. Goodale examines with sensitivity the need for children to occasionally break away and find their own space for solitude while simultaneously exploring the sense of security they get from a loving, if sometimes distracted, family. Julie Danielson

(Copyright 2020 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)

January 15, 2020
A declaration to run away from home leads to an awfully cozy escape. Kate's sister, Hannah, has shut the door on Kate's toe, and Mom is giving flute lessons to neighborhood kids. What more reason would one need to run away? So, determined, Kate gathers duct tape and cardboard and proceeds to construct a little home under the lilacs in the neighbor's yard. And because Mango the cat might miss her sister and her mother, she'll build them additional rooms as well. Soon enough Hannah, Mom, and even one of Mom's flute students show up on Kate's cardboard doorstep, happy to live under the lilacs, "At least for a little while." Goodale keeps the text short and sweet from the initial line, "Sometimes I want to run away," to the penultimate declarative sentence, "Yes, I think I could stay here, under the lilacs." And some canny young readers may well pierce the veil around Kate's protestations that it is Mango who will be missing Hannah and Mom. The illustrations combine print, drawing, and digital techniques, making for a truly attractive m�lange that evinces early spring days, green fields, and blue skies swept with clouds. After reading this book, who wouldn't want to try their own hand at a little independence? Kate, Hannah, and Mom have pale skin and straight, dark hair; Mom's flute student has brown skin and puffy brown hair. Running away never looked so good. (Picture book. 3-6)

COPYRIGHT(2020) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.