Originally published on my blog, Nine Pages.

As a student and lover of children’s literature, I personally loved this book. Some of the illustrations in this are amazing. A lot of the memoirs are truly sweet and endear readers towards either the animal or the author. Some of the poetry was humorous. The book provided an interesting view into the minds and lives of some of my favorite illustrators. The kids at my story hour were less enthralled. I knew more of the illustrators than they did (many of them having not recently produced any bestsellers), and taken all together, this is a long book. The eldest of my story hour friends was maybe eight. Much beyond eight, it’s hard to see a child being thrilled with being read any picture book. This book lacks the cohesion that can hold a younger child’s attention. There’s not a story. There’s no conflict. The book includes flash memoirs, poetry, and cartoon panels of facts about octopi. I think only the one (Nick Bruel’s) got a laugh out of any of my friends and that because of Bruel’s interaction with Bad Kitty, a familiar face for some of the kids, I’m sure, and the humor of Bruel’s entry. Bruel’s didn’t read very well aloud, though, I thought. There were so many individual panels and I don’t know how many of my friends were able to follow my eyes across the pages as I read.