K-Gr 2-In this delightfully imaginative take on a beloved childhood activity, a young boy's crayons have had enough. Fed up with their workload and eager to voice their grievances, they pen letters to Duncan detailing their frustrations. Energetic and off-the-wall, the complaints are always wildly funny, from the neurotically neat Purple ("If you DON'T START COLORING INSIDE the lines soon. I'm going to COMPLETELY LOSE IT") to the underappreciated White ("If I didn't have a black outline, you wouldn't even know I was THERE!"). Daywalt has an instinctive understanding of the kind of humor that will resonate with young children, such as Orange and Yellow duking it out over which of them represents the true color of the sun or Peach's lament that ever since its wrapper has fallen off, it feels naked. Though Jeffers's messily scrawled crayon illustrations are appropriately childlike, they're also infused with a sophisticated wit that perfectly accompanies the laugh-out-loud text; for example, a letter from Beige, in which he bemoans being tasked with drawing dull items like turkey dinners, is paired with an image of the crestfallen crayon drooping over beside a blade of wheat. Later on, Pink grumbles about constantly being passed over for less-feminine colors while the opposite page depicts a discomfited-looking pink monster and cowboy being derided by a similarly hued dinosaur. This colorful title should make for an uproarious storytime and may even inspire some equally creative art projects.-Mahnaz Dar, Library Journal (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

All Duncan wants to do is color, but when he opens his box of crayons, he finds himself in the midst of a bitter labor dispute. The crayons have gone on strike, and theyve left Duncan a pile of letters listing their grievances. From undervalued beige and pink to overworked red and blue, each crayons letter clearly states a specific request for a change in working conditions. Even the green crayon, who has no complaints on its own behalf, explains that both yellow and orange, who are no longer speaking to each other, feel they should be the color of the sun. (Please settle this soon because theyre driving the rest of us crazy!) As drama unfolds among the colors, Jefferss spare crayon illustrations pop off the white background, adding movement and momentum to the imaginative narrative. The personified crayons express such emotion in so few crude strokes, particularly the discouraged beige crayon with its furrowed brow and slumped shoulders, standing forlorn next to a single sprig of wheat (the only thing Duncan uses beige for besides turkey dinners). Photographs of the handwritten letters and coloring book pages establish verisimilitude in an otherwise outrageous premise, which amplifies the comedy. The vibrant final spread addressing each colors concerns leaves all parties with an amicable resolution and readers with a sense of satisfaction. shara l. hardeson (c) Copyright 2013. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Although the crayons in this inventive catalogue stop short of quitting, most feel disgruntled. The rank and file express their views in letters written to a boy, Duncan. Red complains of having to "work harder than any of your other crayons" on fire trucks and Santas; a beige crayon declares, "I'm tired of being called 'light brown' or 'dark tan' because I am neither." White feels "empty" from Duncan's white-on-white coloring, and a "naked" Peach wails, "Why did you peel off my paper wrapping?" Making a noteworthy debut, Daywalt composes droll missives that express aggravation and aim to persuade, while Jeffers's (This Moose Belongs to Me) crayoned images underscore the waxy cylinders' sentiments: each spread features a facsimile of a letter scrawled, naturally, in the crayon's hue; a facing illustration evidences how Duncan uses the crayon, as in a picture of a giant elephant, rhino, and hippo (Gray laments, "That's a lot of space to color in all by myself"). These memorable personalities will leave readers glancing apprehensively at their own crayon boxes. Ages 3-7. Author's agent: Jeff Dwyer, Dwyer & O'Grady. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

From a Chinese master to rebellious crayons, these picture books affirm the inspirational power of art. ASK a group of kindergartners how many of them are artists and every child will enthusiastically raise a hand. Ask that same question to progressively older groups of kids and the numbers of artists will diminish with each advancing grade, until in high school only a few ink-stained hands rise from the fringes. It seems the older they get, the artists who remain figure out how to turn their increasingly rarefied abilities into something like a magic trick to amaze their friends. I myself once wanted to become a magician - the kind in top hat and tails - but that impulse passed as quickly as my obsessions with ventriloquism and marionettes. The looks of mild curiosity I received when I fumbled my way through beginner's magic tricks paled in comparison with the downright stupefaction I was rewarded with when I used my drawing skills to turn a blank sheet of paper into a Corvette, a spaceship or an alien eating our homeroom teacher. Four new books on art and what inspires it are just right for children who dream of being artists - those classroom magicians whose tools of the trade are not white rabbits, scarves or even boxes containing women to be sawed in half, but rather humble pencils, pens and crayons used to transform a blank canvas, or wall, or page, into anything the imagination can conjure up. "Brush of the Gods," written by the veteran author Lenore Look, with illustrations by Meilo So evoking sumi ink paintings, depicts the life of Wu Daozi, China's "Sage of Painting," who lived during the Tang dynasty. The story opens with the young artist failing miserably at practicing the traditional art of calligraphy. He can't seem to help embellishing the simple characters he is asked to paint ; they become lively portraits of worms, fish and monkeys. (I had a similar problem: My long-division equations grew teeth and turned into alligators.) Wu Daozi succeeds at amazing his classmates and frustrating his teacher, an impressive sleight of hand, even to this day. Over time, Wu Daozi's creativity and enthusiasm refuse to be contained, spilling out of the classroom, into his village, then the local temple and finally the emperor's palace, where he spends his remaining years working on his masterpiece, a grand mural that beautifully blurs the line between art and magic. In "Henri's Scissors," Jeanette Winter rushes through the story of Henri Matisse's childhood, but no worries: it's his second (far more interesting) childhood that fascinates her. After becoming one of the greatest artists of the 20th century, whose only peer, it could be argued, was the aggressively prolific Picasso, Matisse has grown old. Now infirm and confined to bed, he reflects on his past triumphs in a room colored in the deepest blues and purples. But inspiration strikes, and using a pair of common household scissors as his magic wand, Matisse cuts shapes out of brightly colored paper and transforms his sickroom into a mystical garden full of flowers and birds. Then, in the final and greatest feat of his career as artist-sorcerer, "the rainbow of shapes cradled the old artist and carried him into the heavens." "Ike's Incredible Ink" and "The Day the Crayons Quit" are stories not of artists, but of something they have intimate knowledge of: their art supplies. In "Ike's Incredible Ink," Brianne Farley's protagonist is an inkblot who is looking for a new story to write. After a healthy round of procrastination, the cheerful black splatter concludes that he needs to create his very own ink. A blot of ink creating its own ink to write a story? Although I found the illustrations endearing, the narrative's lack of internal logic was a stumbling block I had a hard time getting over. But then again, I've always had a problem with Mickey Mouse owning Pluto. "The Day the Crayons Quit," by Drew Daywalt, rounds out the bunch. Illustrated by Oliver Jeffers, it offers little by way of plot. A schoolboy finds a mysterious parcel of letters addressed to him in what looks just like a child's handwriting. The letters, it turns out, are from his crayons, who deeply resent being typecast according to color. Red is tired of drawing apples and fire engines, Green is bored of coloring dinosaurs and frogs, and so on. Although the crayons' wacky voices are believably the kind of thing creative kids come up with when they're daydreaming, Daywalt's clever conceit seems stretched to its limit. One could imagine that instead of being written as a picture book, "The Day the Crayons Quit" might have worked better as an activity book, with lots of room for kids to add their own drawings to the pages. Although all four books celebrate artists, they are intended for the nonartist as well. Their masterly illustrations and inspiring stories may even recruit a few more children into the magical ranks. * Creative process: In "Henri's Scissors," an ailing Matisse transforms his sickroom into a "rainbow of shapes." BRUSH OF THE GODS By Lenore Look Illustrated by Meilo So 40 pp. Schwartz & Wade Books. $17.99. (Picture book; ages 4 to 8) HENRI'S SCISSORS Written and illustrated by Jeanette Winter 40 pp. Beach Lane Books. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 5 to 8) IKE'S INCREDIBLE INK Written and illustrated by Brianne Farley 32 pp. Candlewick Press. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 4 to 8) THE DAY THE CRAYONS QUIT By Drew Daywalt Illustrated by Oliver Jeffers 40 pp. Philomel Books. $17.99. (Picture book; ages 3 to 7) sFrom "The Day the Crayons Quit." Eureka!: "Ike's Incredible Ink." Dan Yaccarino's latest book is "Doug Unplugged."

Duncan wants to draw, but instead of crayons, he finds a stack of letters listing the crayons' demands in this humorous tale. Red is overworked, laboring even on holidays. Gray is exhausted from coloring expansive spaces (elephants, rhinos and whales). Black wants to be considered a color-in color, and Peach? He's naked without his wrapper! This anthropomorphized lot amicably requests workplace changes in hand-lettered writing, explaining their work stoppage to a surprised Duncan. Some are tired, others underutilized, while a few want official titles. With a little creativity and a lot of color, Duncan saves the day. Jeffers delivers energetic and playful illustrations, done in pencil, paint and crayon. The drawings are loose and lively, and with few lines, he makes his characters effectively emote. Clever spreads, such as Duncan's "white cat in the snow" perfectly capture the crayons' conundrum, and photographic representations of both the letters and coloring pages offer another layer of texture, lending to the tale's overall believability. A comical, fresh look at crayons and color. (Picture book. 3-7)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Duncan's crayons are on strike. One morning he opens his desk looking for them and, in their place, finds a pack of letters detailing their grievances, one crayon at a time. Red is tired. Beige is bored. Black is misunderstood. Peach is naked! The conceit is an enticing one, and although the crayons' complaints are not entirely unique (a preponderance centers around some variation of overuse), the artist's indelible characterization contributes significant charm. Indeed, Jeffers' ability to communicate emotion in simple gestures, even on a skinny cylinder of wax, elevates crayon drawing to remarkable heights. First-class bookmaking, with clean design, ample trim size, and substantial paper stock, adds to the quality feel. A final spread sees all things right, as Duncan fills a page with bright, delightful imagery, addressing each of the crayons' issues and forcing them into colorful cooperation. Kids who already attribute feelings to their playthings will never look at crayons the same way again.--Barthelmess, Thom Copyright 2010 Booklist