On each double-page spread, the text describes a retreat, such as a cavern or the museum where a young boy seeks quiet. Facing the text page, an illustration sets a lavish fantasy in that same place (an early human's cave or an old master's studio). The last quiet place is inside of you. The lack of progression grows tedious, but the realistic, detailed oil paintings invite imaginative play. From HORN BOOK Fall 2002, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

"The author suggests numerous spots for solitude from ponds to museums, then interjects a boy's fantasies into the mix," said PW. "The artist laces his realistic oil paintings with a touch of otherworldliness." Ages 3-7. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Ages 5-8. Solitude is the subject of this large-size picture book about a boy who discovers the joy of being alone when he gets away from the busy streets and clamoring grown-ups. The pretty, framed, full-page pictures have an old-fashioned Saturday Evening Post feel to them, which will appeal more to parents and grandparents than to kids. It's evident in the views of cars in the crowded city as well as in the boy's idyllic dreams of escape, which show no evidence of television, computers, or video games. Still, even if the details are dated, many children will welcome the change of pace, and the imaginary adventures are elemental: the boy rides for the Pony Express; he's a pirate, a cave dweller, an explorer discovering a lost continent, an art museum visitor, and a solitary fisherman at a pond. The books he reads at home and at the library have thick, old binding, but children will recognize that they help the boy play alone and travel the universe. --Hazel Rochman

PlayStation, cable television, and computers be damned: in his latest effort, Wood (What Mom's Can't Do, not reviewed, etc.) hearkens back to a simpler time to suggest an alternative to the modern child. "Sometimes a person needs a quiet place . . . but it can be hard to find one. You have to know where to look." Andreasen's (A House in the Mail, p. 53, etc.) lifelike illustrations provide just the right accompaniment on this imaginative journey. In the opening spread, a framed snapshot-sized vignette shows a boy holding his ears to block out the sounds of the city. On the opposite page, a full-size portrait rendered in dim acrylics captures morning light on a busy Manhattan street. Throughout, fantasy and reality are juxtaposed. In one spread, for example, the child relaxes in the open air of a dark wood. "You might find an old stump for a chair or a mossy log for a couch." Rendered in deep green, dusky blue, and brown, the portrait on the opposite page reveals the boy as he imagines himself "a timber wolf, the gray ghost of the forest." Later, the boy visits a museum and imagines himself an artist. Each special setting (the beach, a hilltop, and the library among them) offers uncommon beauty, adventure, and serenity. In the final scene, the child returns home to find "the very best quiet place of all- the one that's always there, no matter where you go or where you stay- the one inside of you." Solid soul guidance for a media-saturated society. (Picture book. 5-9)

Gr 2-4-A boy feels the need for a calm, noise-free spot. He seems to live in a time decades ago if the cars and clothes in an early illustration are representative; however, most of the other full-page oil paintings are flights of fancy. While a variety of escape solutions are presented in text and art, they each seem to have negative aspects to them: the lilac bush is too close to home and "someone calls you to clean your room," the woods are "too dark and deep," the beach is "not your cup of tea," the desert is "a bit too dry," the fish in the pond "aren't biting," the cave could be "too cold and damp," legs are "too tired for climbing" to the top of the hill, "it's too warm for snowdrifts," the museum is closed, and the library isn't open. The final option of finding the quiet within may seem ideal to those who know the way to that place, but most children won't have the map. It seems a shame that all of the rich daydreams are shown to be potentially flawed rather than stops along the way. This is a lovely presentation of a concept that is sure to enchant adults and elude the audience for whom it may have been created.-Jody McCoy, The Bush School, Seattle, WA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.