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One Day, The End
By Rebecca Kai Dotlich
Illustrated by Fred Koehler
Boyds Mills Press (an imprint of Highlights)
$16.95
ISBN: 978-1-62091-451-9
Ages 4-7
On shelves now.

Last evening I was reading Quest by Aaron Becker to my daughter for bedtime. It’s a good book. I’ve read it approximately 20 times by now, so I should know. Anyway, we’re reading the book, which is wordless and requires that the reader really pay attention to the story, and as we start I point out to my daughter some feature at the beginning involving statues. Immediately she countered with a different statue detail at the back of the book that I, though having read this story over and over again, had completely and totally missed. That’s the cool thing about child readers. Not only do they find the details the adults are completely oblivious to, but on top of that they’re coming up with cool narratives and storylines of their own, on spinning off of the ones conceived of by the author/illustrators. So when I see a book like One Day, The End I just wanna put my hands together and applaud. Rebecca Kai Dotlich is a genius (and Fred Koehler ain’t sleeping on the job either). She figured out that for kids a story is just as much a product of the relationship between a child and a book’s pictures as it is between a child and a book’s words. Sometimes more. Sometimes much more. And sometimes they’ll be handed a book like this one that lets them examine and indulge to their heart’s delight.

Do you know how to tell a story? It’s easy! Listen to a couple of these.
“One day… I felt like stomping. Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp.”
“One day… I lost my dog. I found him.”
“One day… I ran away. I cam home.”
A small girl tells her tales with a minimum of words. Yet hidden in these words, sometimes literally, are epic narratives. The most ordinary of actions can turn into huge adventures. By the end, the girl is writing whole books out of what could normally be seen as mundane everyday actions. Yet two sentences can yield a whole lot of action.

These days the buzzword of the hour appears to be “visual storytelling” or “visual learning”. And why not? We live in a world of constant, perpetual, enticing screens (or “shiny rectangles” as my brother-in-law likes to call them). Graphic novels have achieved a level of respect and quality hitherto unknown in the history of publishing and I don’t think it’s a stretch to believe that there are more picture books being published today than ever before. Into this brave new world come the kids, their minds making connections and storylines. They mix reality and fantasy together with aplomb. They give their toys lives and thoughts and feelings. So to see a book that sets them free to give these imaginings a little form and structure? That’s great.

On the most basic level, the book is perfect for class writing prompts. The teacher tells the kids to pick a two-sentence story in the book and expand upon it. It works to a certain extent, but I wonder if in some ways it sort of skips the point of the book itself. One of the many points of One Day, The End is that when it comes to picture books, storytelling can be more than simply whatever it is that the words say. Another point is that you don’t have to be loquacious to tell a story. Two sentences will do. It would be fun to do an exercise with kids where they tell two-sentence stories. Two sentences takes off a lot of pressure. There’s no need to include a rise and fall to the action. Anyone can tell a story (a valuable lesson). This book shows you how.

All that aside, the ending of the book was particularly interesting to me. Picture book authors that can stick the landing (as it were) when they finish their stories are rare birds. Such books don’t necessarily come along every day. That said, the ending of One Day, The End is rather magnificent. The whole book until this point has been showing the reader that in the shortest of stories there can be whole epic narratives. So when our young heroine begins by saying “One Day… I wanted to Write a Book” the accompanying picture shows her at a typewriter (a retro move) imagining a whole host of new situations. Turn the page and the following “So I did” shows a line of thick books, each one with a title that relates to the tiny two sentence stories we witnessed before. The implication at work here for kids is that even in the briefest of moments of our lives, which adults might hurry through or remember in abbreviated ways, there are untold tales just waiting to be told. This book is for the five-year-old burgeoning writer. This character wanted to write a book and did. Who’s to say you couldn’t do the same?

I didn’t recognize Fred Koehler’s style the first time I read through this book. Maybe this is a little more understandable when I mention that he only just debuted this year with his own picture book, How to Cheer Up Dad. That book starred affectionate pachyderms. This one, all too human humans. In order to bring Dotlich’s story to life, Koehler sets the action in a kind of timeless past. Cell phones computers, and even televisions are not in evidence. There’s one sequence when our heroine is playing hide-and-go-seek with her brother and we see a large swath of their home together. It’s rather technologically barren, a fact drilled home later when the typewriter makes its somewhat inexplicable appearance. Fortunately, Koehler has a lot going for him, beyond this attempt at timelessness. The font of the story is practically a tale in and of itself, always shifting and changing to suit the described action. And the layouts! I don’t mind saying that part of the reason this book feels so fresh and interesting and fun has a lot to do with Koehler’s layouts. The words that make up the stories appear as part of the illustrated scenes, sometimes dominating the action and sometimes playing a role in it. For example, the story that begins with “One day… I wanted to be a spy” actually shows the girl peering between the letters of “spy”

I also loved that Koehler wasn’t afraid to reward rereadings. Attentive readers will be able to witness the smaller sub-adventures of a cat, a squirrel, a bird, and a little white dog that appear in the periphery of all the action. Then there are even smaller details that you wouldn’t notice on a first glance. The story, “I went to school. I came home” shows our plucky young gal dilly-dallying on her way to class (following a cat that will come up again in a later tale) only to accidentally leave her books somewhere en route. She runs to her classroom, but sharp-eyed spotters will note her missing backpack. Next thing you know the class is following instructions on doing science experiments and she peers at her neighbor (every kid doing the experiments is looking at their book, save her), and accidentally pours her solution into the wrong beaker. And there are other details about the characters themselves that are worth discovering, like that our storyteller always wears mismatched socks. As for the callbacks, if you pay attention you’ll see that an element that appears in one story (like a rubber boot placed over a flower in the rain) may later crop up again later (that same flower grows out of the boot a little later).

To sum up, why not take a page out of this book?
One day… I read a picture book. It was great.
The End.

On shelves now.

Source: Final copy sent from publisher for review.

Like This? Then Try:

• The End by David LaRochelle
• Once Upon a Time, The End by Geoffrey Kloske
• A Book by Mordecai Gerstein

Professional Reviews: Kirkus,

This past spring, I participated as a mentor in our local writers guild’s Sheldon Oberman Emerging Writers Mentor Program.  The program was named after Sheldon Oberman, a Winnipeg writer who is well known for his childrens’ books.  Oberman died in 2004 but his legacy lives on in the mentorship program and his wonderful childrens’ books, a few of which I’ll feature in this post.  Although my encounter with Sheldon Oberman was primarily through the legacy of the  mentorship program, my children were familiar with his books, having encountered them at their school.

The White Stone in the Castle Wall illustrated by Les Tait (Tundra Books, 1995) is the story of a poor little boy named John Tommy Fiddich, who with his white stone, considers himself “sometimes lucky, sometimes unlucky.”  Set at turn-of-the-century Toronto, the book is also about the building of one of the city’s most famous landmarks — Casa Loma — and its eccentric owner, Sir Henry Pellat.

The Always Prayer Shawl illustrated by Ted Lewin (Boyds Mills Press, 1994) is about a Jewish boy named Adam.  When Adam is a boy (and it is a time when eggs were got from chickens, heat from chopped wood, and rides in wagons pulled by horses), he receives a special gift from his grandfather — a prayer shawl.  His grandfather, a rabbi, tells him that although “some things change, some don’t.”  He tells him that one of the things that will not change is his name, Adam, and he gives Adam a prayer shawl.  Adam carries that prayer shawl with him all through his long life until many decades later he is able to give it to his grandson, Adam, when he is an old man.

TV Sal and The Game Show from Outer Space illustrated by Craig Terlson (Red Deer College Press, 1993) is about a girl sucked into a TV by TV station aliens.  This delightful story about TV addiction pokes fun at both parent and child.  I especially relate to Sal’s Mom who suggests to her TV watching daughter, “Would you like to do something different, dear?  Come out with us to look at the fog.”   I’m always nagging my children to get outside more.  It is while Sal’s family is out for a walk that Sal finds herself in that alien TV world and can’t get herself out.

Sheldon Oberman’s books are a delight and pleasure to read.  Hope you can find copies in your bookstore and library!

On walking my daughter to school this week, we went past this bare branched tree with a pink mitten on it.  “Oh look!” I said, pointing it out to my daughter.  “Yes,” she said excitedly, “it looks like a pink rose, Mommy!”  Taking this response as an opportunity to teach her about poetics, I replied, “Yes, it does look like a rose.  Do you know when you compare an object to another using the word ‘like,’ you are using what is called a simile?” I went on further.   The pink mitten looks like a rose, so you are right to say that, but you can also say ‘The pink mitten is a rose.’  That would be using what is called a metaphor.”  My daughter paused in her tracks, squinted at me hard and said,  “But the mitten isn’t a rose, Mommy.”  Ah, yes, perhaps the metaphor was a little too hard for her to grasp quite yet.

Thinking about poetics is part of my job as a creative writing teacher, so I was very glad that day when my daughter’s teacher lent me the book called Inner Chimes: Poems on Poetry, selected by Bobbye S. Goldstein with illustrations by Jane Breskin Zalben.  (Wordsong/Boyds Mills Press, 1992).   Inner Chimes contains poems about writing poetry.   Here’s an excerpt of a poem by Eleanor Farjeon that reminded me very much of my daughter’s poetic encounter with the pink mitten rose:

What is Poetry?  Who knows?
Not a rose, but the scent of a rose;
Not the sky, but the light in the sky;
Not the fly, but the gleam of the fly
Not the sea, but the sound of the sea

Not a pink mitten, but a pink mitten rose, I’d somehow like to add!  When I paused later in the day to take a picture of the pink mitten, my daughter put her green gloved hand over it and said, “And now it’s coming out of its bud — take a picture, Mommy!”  Well, despite her initial confusion over metaphor, she certainly picked up the notion of the extended metaphor pretty quick!

If you’d like to read more poems for kids about writing poetry, I’d certainly recommend Inner Chimes.   There are some thoughtful poems about the creative process and inspiration in this book.

This week Poetry Friday is hosted by Tricia at the Miss Rumphuis Effect.