★ 02/17/2014
With a wholehearted commitment to silliness, Ering (Necks Out for Adventure!) turns a bedtime anxiety tale into a swashbuckling adventure. He paints as exuberantly as he writes, scumbling, dripping, and swabbing mossy green swamps and orange sunsets. Hamilton—a bug-eyed, skinny-legged swamp creature—wields a brave sword by day, but worries about frackensnappers, skelecragons, and bracklesneeds at night. His anxiety drives him out of his own bed (well, his own mud) to his “secret hideout” right between his parents. They stoop to bribery, offering Hamilton a luscious grasshopper worm-cake with snake belly frosting. “You can eat it all for breakfast tomorrow,” his father promises, but “Tonight, you must stay in your own mud.” That night, in a rip-roaring series of dreams, Hamilton finds himself on a balloon-powered ship with the monsters he dreads. Somehow, though, it’s not so bad: “They sailed through the air... Over magnificent and breathtaking things.” Hamilton is led on to the end of a rainbow, a reunion with his father, and peace with all monsters. Ering’s (and Hamilton’s) derring-do should make readers forget all about their own anxieties. Ages 3–7. (Apr.)
With a wholehearted commitment to silliness, Ering turns a bedtime anxiety tale into a swashbuckling adventure. He paints as exuberantly as he writes, scumbling, dripping, and swabbing mossy green swamps and orange sunsets. ... Ering’s (and Hamilton’s) derring-do should make readers forget all about their own anxieties.
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Ering’s pictures splice together spindle-legged, popeyed creatures, etchy linework, and lush layers of washy, brushy, splotchy, gorgeously colored paint. ... Appealing—and empowering.
—Kirkus Reviews
This wild bedtime story incorporates playful language in a Skippyjon Jones–type fashion. “Fire-breathing frackensnapper” and “scrintalberry swamp” are just a few of the lively terms that help bring the story to life. While the wording is enjoyable, the images steal the show, blending a dreamlike surrealism with cartoon humor through full-bleed images created with acrylic paint on paper with ink, charcoal, and graphite.
—School Library Journal
This is definitely prose, but the book’s poetic use of gently scary nonsense evokes “Jabberwocky,” while its dreamy, lullaby qualities are reminiscent of “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.” The vivid acrylic illustrations in immersive full-bleeds counterpoint the ethereal whimsy with wobbly and thin pen and charcoal outlines, splotchy and textured paint, and a subdued and earthy color scheme. ... The art is particularly effective while Hamilton and the crew are sailing through the sky in a breathtaking foldout double-page spread. The often-gorgeous artwork and feel-good ending may make this an attractive bedtime story for parents willing to add a bit of quirkiness to the evening.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
04/01/2014
K-Gr 2—Hamilton Squidlegger spends his days on fearless quests, but when night falls, he would rather be nestled safely between his parents. Bribed by his father's promise of "a double-decker grasshopper worm-cake, with snake-belly frosting" if the young frog will spend one night in his own mud, Hamilton agrees to try, but his taste for excitement outweighs his craving for cake. This wild bedtime story incorporates playful language in a Skippyjon Jones—type fashion. "Fire-breathing frackensnapper" and "scrintalberry swamp" are just a few of the lively terms that help bring the story to life. While the wording is enjoyable, the images steal the show, blending a dreamlike surrealism with cartoon humor through full-bleed images created with acrylic paint on paper with ink, charcoal, and graphite. The pictures are intriguing, but the story is hard to follow because of the quick pacing and frequent change of settings. Although this title teeters between creative and chaotic, it will serve as a worthwhile general purchase for libraries.—Megan Egbert, Meridian Library District, ID
2014-02-05
With his dad's help, a young frog conquers nighttime fears by harnessing his imagination. Hamilton Squidlegger and his wooden sword thwart the (imaginary) threats looming in the swamp, be they fire-breathing frackensnapper, clawed skelecragon or twining bracklesneed. Hamilton's bravado disappears at sunset, though, as his prodigious imagination animates those same fictive monsters. He flees his own mud for his "secret hideaway"—wedged between his sleepless parents. While Hamilton wakes refreshed and ready for more fearless exploits, his beleaguered dad's weary of this pattern. He bakes Hamilton's luscious fave, a "double-decker grasshopper worm-cake," offering it as breakfast in exchange for Hamilton's successful overnighter in his own mud. As a storm threatens, Hamilton worries: "What if a l-l-lightning monster comes tonight?" Dad encourages Hamilton to enlist his mind to turn the tide: "Think good thoughts is what I say. Monsters are silly, and they love to play!" More than a dozen full spreads, including a double gatefold, spool out Hamilton's ensuing dream-adventure. A junked TV spews a pink-lemonade sea; a flying ship with a striped-bass cook unites Hamilton, his dad and the now-friendly monsters, who all sleep in their "very own cabins." Ering's pictures splice together spindle-legged, popeyed creatures, etchy linework, and lush layers of washy, brushy, splotchy, gorgeously colored paint. In the last image, Hamilton digs into that yummy worm cake at sunrise. Appealing—and empowering. (Picture book. 3-7)
