Sunny Volume 1 by Taiyo Matsumoto. Translation by Michael Arias. Viz Signature, 2013. 9781421555256. Publisher’s Rating: T for Teen, recommended for ages 13 and up. The stories in Sunny are about the kids who live in the Star Kids Home, a place that takes in children who can’t live with their parents for a variety of reasons. In the first installment Sei is dropped off. He thinks his mom will be back to get him over the summer, but the white-haired Haruo slowly convinces Sei that he’s been dumped, and that no one is coming back to get him. Haruo is the kid who skips school and acts out everywhere, but it’s clear loneliness is driving him. He’s hoping to live with his mom and dad again, and unlike Sei even gets to visit with his parents occasionally, though it’s clear Haruo will never leave the home. There are other kids, too — the pretty Megumu who Haruo crushes on, Junsuke with his long fingernails and messy hair, the gigantic Taro whom everyone loves, Kenji the cool older kid about to drop out of school, and others. Their stories all come out to some extent, though Haruo and Kenji are clearly the focus of the books. And at the center is a broken down car, a Sunny 1200, which is a kind of clubhouse where they play and smoke and look at the porn Kenji hides there and generally hang out. There are lots of up and downs, and many bright moments that bring the characters to life. Haruo savors the smell of the Nivea cream his mother gave him, hoping to visit her. Sei responds to his loneliness and despair by sinking into books, and eventually even has a girlfriend of sorts, a girl from outside the home who walks the dog Kurimaru with Sei when it’s his turn. Taro sings at the top of his longs. Megumu shows how worried she is about herself by worrying about a dead cat in a ditch, which Haruo helps her bury. This series is complete in six volumes. Each has immense shelf appeal — the covers are beautiful front and back (see photos), and the art uses organic lines and a variety of textures to create a sense of reality I don’t often encounter in manga. Taiyo Matsumoto is perhaps most famous for Tekkonkinkreet, a book full of kinetic, entertaining violence which also features a kid named White (this is Haruo’s nickname, because of his hair). Viz just published Matsumoto’s sports manga Ping Pong (complete in two volumes), and is now publishing his science fiction series No. 5 as well.

The Middle Kid by Steven Weinberg. Chronicle Books, 2021. 9781452181806. I love Weinberg’s books, particularly the way he’s now working with both collage and drawing and painting and whatever in his picture books and the AstroNuts series. This one seems to be the composition notebook of a middle kid, complete with tables of useful information at the front and penciled notes to KEEP OUT! from the writer. Inside it reads like a picture book diary, in comics format, of the ups and downs of being a middle kid who loves drawing (like Weinberg). His sister spills on his art. His brother locks him in a trunk to teach him to be tough. But when things are too intense, his mom takes him for a break at the library. Perfect.   Ship in a Bottle by Andrew Prahin. G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers, 2021. 9781984815811. Mouse dreams of a better life, of a place where she can enjoy gingersnaps and sit in the sun without Cat trying to eat her. So she sets off in her ship in a bottle, with an ample supply of cookies. Things seem a little bleak — there’s a storm and some rude seagulls — but eventually, when it seems most unlikely, Mouse finds new friends and a perfect home. I love Prahin’s gray rainy days almost as much as I love the colorful world full of new friends he draws for Mouse.   Anthony and the Gargoyle by Jo Ellen Bogart, illustrated by Maja Kastelic. Groundwood Books, 2021. 9781773063447. In this lovely, wordless story, Anthony, discovers a friendly young creature in his closet. With the help of a book on Notre Dame, they figure out it’s probably a gargoyle, like the ones on the cathedral. When Anthony’s family visits his ailing grandmother, he introduces her to his friend, and then during a trip to Notre Dame returns it to its family (much to his parents’ surprise). This story is told in a very simple layout of borderless comics panels with rounded corners, which make it feel a bit kinder than it would have if the panels had had sharp angles. It’s a great introduction to the power of panels, the way they allow readers to control the pace of a story and even to go back and forth between moments.  

The Galaxy, And The Ground Within (Wayfarers Book 4) by Becky Chambers. Harper Voyager, 2021. 9780062936042. 336pp. I’m a huge fan of Chambers’ good natured, character-centric Wayfarers series, and this, the final book, is on par with the other three. I was saving it for when I needed a boost, but after listening to Eric Molinsky interview Chambers on his Imaginary Worlds podcast, and finding out it’s the last book in the series, I read it immediately. https://www.imaginaryworldspodcast.org/episodes/becky-chambers-goes-wayfaring The Five-Hop One-Stop is a small dome on a small, unremarkable world, Gora, at a crowded wormhole-to-wormhole transit point. Its proprietor, Ouloo, a long, furry alien, is determined to make her establishment and its array of products and services attractive and welcoming to all species. She’s also got to keep her awkward, curious child, Tupo, on course. After welcoming three shuttles and their pilots, who are in search of supplies, distraction, rest, and snacks (Ouloo specializes in the latter), Gora’s satellite system has a spectacular failure. No one can leave the planet until it’s safe. The three very different aliens are stranded together for days and forced to make the best of things. Each has xir own worries and needs, and as they get to know one another there’s a bit of conflict over differing points of view. Comedy relief is supplied, frequently, by Tupo. Not much to go on in terms of a booktalk, I know. I could describe the different species, but nah — Chambers has done a great job sinking into their viewpointss and needs in the book, and too much detail would spoil the fun of reading it. It is worth noting that one of the characters is mentioned in another book in the series as the human captain Ashby’s romantic partner, though there are no humans in this book. The brilliant thing about Chambers’ series is you can start it anywhere. I’m sad to see this series end, but excited to read whatever Chambers publishes next. In fact her next book, A Psalm for the Wild-Built, is already out.

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen. RH Graphic, 2020. 9781984851598. 229 pages of comics plus an author’s not, an essay on creating the graphic novel, and some pages of bonus artwork. At the center of this story are Tién (13) and his mother. Tién speaks mostly English; his mother speaks mostly Vietnamese. As Tién reads a version of Cinderella to his mother, she thinks about saying goodbye to her mother when she and her husband fled Vietnam. Later Tién’s mother travels to Vietnam after his grandmother dies, and as she questions her identity and mourns, her auntie tells her a different version of the myth. (Back in the US, Tién’s crush on his friend Julian is noticed during a school dance, and he’s sent to counseling, to talk to a priest who tells him he’s going to break his mother’s heart. And once Tién’s mother returns home, the school takes the decision to come out to his mom out of Tién’s hands. But they share another story, a beautiful retelling of The Little Mermaid, that lets Tién know she loves and accepts him. Nguyen has a gift for depicting how hard it is for a kid and their mother to communicate when they speak different first languages and were raised in different cultures. I’ve never seen a book do this before, and it’s wonderful. Equally beautiful are the illustrations, particularly the way each tale has its own design and fashion sense. (The pages at the end give Nguyen space to explain his choices.) This is the best graphic novel I’ve read this year, and one that I know everyone in my family will enjoy.

Wildflowers: A Toon Book by Liniers. (Toon Level Two). Toon Books, 2021. 9781943145539. Inspired by his three daughters looking at the Mexican jungle (there’s a charming photo of them doing this in the back of the book), this early reader graphic novel is about three girls trapped on a mysterious island after a plane crash. As they start to explore the jungle, they come across exotic wildflowers, a tiny animal, and another that’s big and growly. If you’ve never read any of Liniers’ comics before, do yourself a favor and pick this one up: it’s silly, a little scary, and has a lot of heart. The Airport Book by Lisa Brown. Roaring Brook Press, 2016. 9781626720916. Brown’s book starts with a family packing and then leaving for a trip. Her elegant drawings make everything look at least a little fun, from traffic to standing in lines to airport security. Every two-page spread is full of amazing people leaving on journeys and doing their jobs, and the word balloons make it all work. I’m going to read this before my trip this weekend — I’m a nervous flier (when I’m not terrified), and I think this will help. Cton’s Super A-Maze-Ing Year Of Crazy Comics! Puzzles, Mazes, Blobs, & More by Clayton Hanmer. Owlkids, 2008. 9782895792093. I’ve had this book for years, and I love looking at it. It’s happy and weird and pretty funny, and has pages where I can get lost in the details, like “Billy’s Spooky Halloween Adventure (which is at the beginning). Learn to draw Blob, and his hillbilly cousin Blab! Then move on to winter: Blob skis, Cton shows off his snowboard, and weird winter myths are explained. There are comics mazes and more illustrations of Cton’s friends, and Cton even shows how to plant a tree. Throughout it encourages and inspires creativity, and ends with tips on making comics. (And there are answers to the puzzles in the book.) Worth noting: All of the activities in the book can be completed without drawing in the book itself. Use a finger on the mazes!  

Farm Crimes! Cracking The Case Of The Missing Egg by Sandra Dumais. Owlkids, 2020. 9781771474153. 48pp. This is a very short mystery great for kids who are just graduating from picture books. A hen suddenly freaks out because her egg is missing. The animals are worried about a burglar, so they ring the cow’s bell three times, calling Inspector Billiam Van Hoof, the world’s #1 goat detective, from his house on the other side of the farm. He grabs his tools (including his detective sandals) and takes a very roundabout way to the scene of the crime. Then he’s on the job, which he takes a bit too seriously. It’s not long before the the mystery is solved. (It’s almost certain kids will solve it first, which is a lot of the fun.) Loved the illustrations, particularly the chicken (she’s very worked up), the raccoon (still not sure why he’s wearing shorts) and of course the detective (his disguise is a bit ridiculous). Like so many graphic novels originally published in France, the colors are wonderful.

TO:KY:00 by Liam Wong. Thames & Hudson, 2021. 9780500545461. 264pp. Photography books need to be beautiful and compelling, and this one is on a new level. The opening pages, including the forward and introduction and table of contents, are all printed on beautiful gradients that flow across both pages. The behind-the-scenes pages at the back that show a few of Wong’s contact sheets and give real insight into his process (particularly of the process behind making his famous Neo Tokyo photograph) are on a non-glossy paper, which sets them apart from the glossiness of the rest of the book and makes them feel like they’re full of craft. Everyone is going to want to flip through this book. The photos themselves are wonderful. The recolored night scenes are full of purples, with glowing blues and whites and reds. In so many images signs, lit and not, neon and not, vie for attention even as pedestrians ignore them. There’s something unexpected in each image, which made paging through this book again and again a real pleasure. Many rainy Tokyo streets and alleys recall the movie Blade Runner, though there’s so much more here that doesn’t. It all makes me want to get on a plane and head for Japan as soon as that’s possible again.

Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen: Who Killed Jimmy Olsen? by Matt Fraction (writer) and Steve Leiber (artist). DC Comics, 2020. 9781779504623. Includes Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen 1 – 12 and material from Superman: Leviathan Rising Special 1. This graphic novel opens with Daily Planet photographer Jimmy Olsen on a book tour, waking up naked and married in Gorilla City after an evening of drinking. His wife, Jinx, and interdimensional jewel thief, makes him promise to get their marriage annulled. Then a cat attacks him in the bathroom, then barfs blood all over Jimmy and the room. Both the cat and the jewel thief play into the plot of the book, which involves Olsen getting “killed,” going into hiding, a series of ridiculous impersonations, and the history of Metropolis (involving the Olsens and the Luthors). It’s a beautiful piece of non-stop ridiculousness involving the hero Metallo, the greatest Batman gags ever, and, of course, a little Superman (but not as much as you’d expect in a book about Olsen if you’re a comic reader about my age). There are a ton of pages that are formatted like the first pages of a comic book, featuring a lot of explain-y text and narration and a logo — a brilliant bit of silliness that keeps the whole book rolling along at high speed even as they seem to restart the story. Leiber is one of the best artists working in comics; his mastery of tone, storytelling, and character are evident on every page. This is favorite “superhero” comic of the year, and the funniest book I’ve read in a while.