100 Books Like Pete's a Pizza

A special story told (as Jez Alborough brilliantly does) in few words and with rhymes that read just right. A young dog called Sid is so filled with happiness that he flies! But he can’t convince anyone that this has happened. He’s laughed at. “…dogs don’t fly – it can’t be done,” says his teacher. “Dogs don’t fly!” repeat his friends. This leaves Sid alone and sad. But his father comes by. He asks what’s wrong, and it saves the day.

Sid’s dad believes in him. He understands Sid’s free spirit because he shares it. And these two things (literally) lift Sid up again. It’s a wonderful image of the magic a father-son bond can do.

One of many memorable picture books from a master of creating dads, mums, children, and all human beings. (Also fairies, in fact.) A family goes walking to a green hill in the city to celebrate baby Oscar’s “six-month birthday.” Bob Graham paints the world as a jumble of different lives, made beautiful by the warmth that can come between them.

In this story, there’s particular attention to moments of grace that children and parents can conjure up, if they want. I love the dirty old-town setting, with its colourful graffiti. And I like the spiky-haired dad. He makes the sandwiches. He gets on with the stuff of the family day. He does it with love. And he’s involved in one of my favourite of all picture book endings. When the kids are asleep, he pushes back the furniture and dances with Mum.

A brilliant book (who would dare publish this today?) by the author of the equally brilliant Ben’s Trumpet. In a South African township, some children expect their migrant-labourer fathers to arrive home after 10 months away. They wait, in a celebratory mood at first, but with increasing tiredness and uncertainty as the day and the night go by. They tell stories to stay awake. But the youngest falls asleep. A truck pulls up. It’s not their dads. Then the day dawns. And, with it, the fathers arrive.

There’s hardly any characterisation of the dads. They come to life through the children’s excitement and persistence. So does the deep emotion of an absent father returning. My boys have often chosen this book at bedtime. And they know it well enough to look up curiously when the dads arrive - to check if there are tears of happiness in my eyes.… show more.

A longer story that is illustrated with great skill and feeling by PJ Lynch. (And it’s another one that brings tears to my eyes most times I read it!) Jonathan Toomey is a wood carver who has moved to a village far from where his wife and baby died. So this is not a typical picture book dad. He is solitary and grieving.

The widow McDowell and her son, Thomas, are newcomers to the village. In their move, they have lost a precious nativity set. So they ask Jonathan Toomey if he will carve them a new one. The carpenter reluctantly agrees. His heart warms to both Thomas and Thomas’s mother. He carves a beautiful replacement nativity set. In the making, he faces his terrible loss. And the final, beautiful image is of the three of them walking side by side on Christmas day with laughter in their eyes.

Two siblings with very different personalities. The fun of following these two characters grows with every scene. A very skillful, beautiful depiction of the richness of life and creative collaboration. A funny and endearing book.

These two girls’ everyday adventure series! I adore these twin books since I am a twin myself! Color penciled illustration is always beautiful but I like how Kaya draws the rain here. You can see a drizzle, a shower, a downpour, and even an upside-down rain here. Surely the rain hater like myself can become a rain person.

This book examines the social control of Jewish immigrant youth in New York City through the use of supervised playgrounds that drew the children from street life to organized games and activities.

Sports taught rules and regulations, a WASP sense of morality and middle class values, and competition, which served as the basis for the capitalist economy. Sport served as an opiate for the masses, altering traditional work and leisure patterns, effecting a new social order, while it desecrated the Jewish Sabbath for some in the process of assimilation.

I love backyard games of catch, so when I heard the concept of this book I was sold!

Ethan D. Bryan, an avid baseball player and fan, set a goal to play a game of catch a day for an entire year. He met up with people across the United States for games, learning about their lives and witnessing the ways that tossing a ball around can transform a community.

I loved the heartwarming stories throughout the book and was deeply inspired to connect with people in unique ways. I’ve got to get outside and warm up my throwing arm. Ethan’s invited me to play a game of catch sometime. I want to be ready!

Some of the most exciting discoveries in theatre history in recent years have been archaeological, not archival: the excavation of the Curtain theatre’s foundations in Shoreditch, for example, and the revelation that it was rectangular and much larger than previously thought. Davies’ new book capitalises on a series of such findings and complements them with his own rigorous archival work, putting pressure on the very concept of a ‘playhouse’ and what it can be—or rather, what it meant to Shakespeare’s audiences.

While I’m a fan of all of Denos’ work (her art belongs in galleries–and has been), Swatch has always stuck with me (and my family) as there’s something so simple and raw about trying to ‘tame colors,’ which is what Swatch, the artist, tries to do.

Like so much in life, some colors are easy to tame, and others aren’t, which is why I think this resonates so well with everyone who’s read it. And with those, like me, who’ve read it again. And again. And again.