Anyone else up for the challenge of this Hunger Games-inspired training program?

The post Survival of the fittest appeared first on The Horn Book.

In children’s book–based board games, players often get to stand in for characters from the story—a feature that has the potential to deepen a child’s appreciation for a book and extend their connection to the original story. Imagine yourself, for instance, as Max from Where the Wild Things Are, sailing off to the forest, finding the Wild Things, becoming a Wild Thing, and then racing to be the first one to return safely home and win the game. The pretend play of board games allows children to interact with a book in a three-dimensional, active way.

Board games based on children’s books are nothing new. When my sister and I were growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, we’d fight over who got to be Elizabeth or Jessica when we’d play our Sweet Valley High game; we longed to own The Baby-Sitters Club game that our friends had; and we’d often play our aunt’s Uncle Wiggily and Nancy Drew Mystery games. What has changed since then is the sheer proliferation of such board games. Walk into any Target, Toys “R” Us, or specialty toy shop, and you’ll see children’s book characters everywhere on game shelves.

Generally, children’s books aren’t turned into board games unless they’re in popular series (Harry Potter, The 39 Clues, Twilight, The Hunger Games, Eileen Christelow’s Five Little Monkeys, Richard Scarry’s Busytown, or Walter Wick’s I Spy books) or contain iconic characters (Curious George, Madeline, Mo Willems’s Pigeon, or Dr. Seuss’s Cat in the Hat). Picture books tend to be a great resource for board games, probably due to the recognizable images in the illustrations, which make it easier to create the board game. Series still rule, however: it’s hard to find a board game version of a stand-alone picture book unless it’s a classic (such as Goodnight Moon) or a concept book (such as The Scrambled States of America) or has a unique twist (such as Jumanji, which was a book about a board game that was later made into a movie that then spawned a movie board game…).

If kids have read the book, a game can enhance the prior reading experience; if they haven’t, the game may encourage them to do so. But unfamiliarity with the book isn’t apt to hinder their enjoyment, because just like digital adaptations of children’s books, board games are a supplementary product. At best, they aren’t designed to replace the traditional reading experience but to serve as an opportunity for an extended interaction with the book’s characters and concepts.

Some board games attempt to retell the story through the game, while others focus on a single character or plot element. But buyer beware: some merely employ the books and characters as a marketing gimmick to sell a new version of a memory game or number-learning game. Taking the time to look at how you play a game before buying it can tell you a lot about how well it connects to the original story.

But you won’t really know how successful a game adaptation is until you play it. Which is why The Horn Book invited staff members’ children into the office for an afternoon to play some of the latest children’s literature–based board games. We wanted to see how successful these games are on their own and as adaptations and/or extensions of the books they’re based on, and see what, if any, prior connections to the original books are necessary to appreciate and play them. We tried to pick games over a broad age-range and various kinds of games that might interest the children in different ways.

The Pigeon Wants a Match (University Games) and the Maisy game (Briarpatch) are both matching games designed for ages three and up that contain images from their respective books. Because the Maisy books focus less on plot and more on introducing new words to young children through visual accompaniment, they make an ideal choice for a matching game, and indeed the Maisy game offered recognizable and easily distinguishable cardboard pieces for children to match up in a kind of bingo game they could play a variety of ways. On the other hand, the narrative of Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, which is largely what makes the book so entertaining, is lost in a simple matching game.

For the same age group, The Very Hungry Caterpillar game, “A Game of Counting, Colors and Contrasts” (University Games), focuses on developing skills but also replicates the original story as players feed their caterpillar game pieces different food tokens until the caterpillar turns into a butterfly. This was a popular choice among our youngest game testers, who seemed to enjoy this game more than Maisy or Pigeon Wants a Match because it successfully incorporates Carle’s theme into the story line.

The Where the Wild Things Are game (Patch Products) was the closest adaptation of the book it is based on. Part of a series called Tales to Play (“Love the Book…Live the Game”) and designed for players aged six and up, the game includes three-dimensional game pieces of Max and the Wild Things, allowing players to pretend they’re characters from the book as they travel over the board. The Wild Rumpus cards that partly control how you move say things like “Max and the Wild Things start a wild rumpus. Go back or move ahead to [the] Where the Wild Things Are [square].” Players must earn a scepter that makes them king of the Wild Things in order to return home to Max’s bedroom to win the game. Sticking closely to the main plot points of Sendak’s story, this was a big hit with the kids because it really did feel like they got to actively participate in telling the story by playing the whole game. Plus, the competition is pretty ruthless, starting with the fact that every player rolls at once and only the one with the highest roll gets to move. Max would approve.

The last two games we tested are designed for players aged eight and up. The Diary of a Wimpy Kid Cheese Touch board game (Pressman) incorporates illustrations from the book on categorized question cards “designed to help you discover what you do—and don’t—have in common with your fellow players.” The purpose of the game is to avoid the Cheese Touch (a type of cooties that makes you an outcast after touching a moldy slice of cheese), a plot element in the first book in the series. This game was overly complex, and its connection with the books was tenuous (aside from the Cheese Touch, it was limited to the game pieces and card illustrations being characters from the books), but cards with questions such as “Have you ever worn the same pair of underwear for more than two days in a row?” and “Which player would be most likely to blame a fart on someone else?” kept the game entertaining (even for players who had never read the books) and likely to appeal to fans of the series’ humor.

Kids in the Horn Book office assembling the Lego Harry Potter Hogwarts game

The Harry Potter Hogwarts game (Lego) was unusual in that players must first build the game board. Only then do they begin their quest: players have to navigate the magical castle collecting their homework by moving around on Hogwarts’s shifting staircases and secret passages before returning to their respective common rooms. While the directions were difficult, building the (handsome) castle was a lot of fun, and as the game progressed, players started to understand it more and more, leading to a competitive but convivial experience. It also wasn’t necessary for players to be overly familiar with Rowling’s novels to stay entertained.

Playing these games with the children only reinforced my belief that it’s not necessary for a child to have read the book or be familiar with its characters to enjoy playing a well-designed game, but it definitely enhances the experience, as kids are then even more invested in the game and the book. As I watched staff and children participate in our game day, it was clear that playing games based on books is a refreshingly old-school but relevant mainstay to get kids excited about reading amidst the onslaught of new media options. So bring on more board game versions of children’s books. They’re still scoring points for providing good old-fashioned family fun for players of all ages.

The post When the Name of the Game Is a Children’s Book appeared first on The Horn Book.

Chloe Beth Asch; photo by Dorian Asch

Our granddaughter Chloe was born last Thursday night. Miles seems just fine with her. Have you guys heard about “The Baby’s Gift”? It’s where the dethroned only child goes to hospital and gets a present from the newborn. Retail doesn’t miss a trick.

(At least it’s better than The Diaper Game. I am never going to a baby shower again.)

The post Here she is, world . . . appeared first on The Horn Book.

Mother Goose was upset. How could parents say that…word, that awful word, to their children? How could they use it in front of innocent little darlings almost fast asleep? Their drowsy eyes. Well-washed hands clutching the crisp, white sheets.

She loved children. Why, tonight she was baby-sitting Jack and Jill, Little Jack Horner, and the Three Little Kittens. When they were ready for bed, they would be tucked in and read to, not shouted at. Not sworn at.

Whiskers, Cuddles, and Boots mewed at her feet. So sweet. They’ve lost their mittens. Well, they can’t be far.

Mother Goose looked toward the corner where Little Jack Horner was jabbing his thumb into an already mutilated pie. And then holding his hand up so the purple, sticky juice ran down his arm and stained his new shirt. Good Lord.

“Oh, look. Here are your mittens. Now go and play while I try to get young Mr. Horner cleaned up.”

Why didn’t he cooperate? Why did he kick at her slightly swollen ankles? And why did she have to listen to Jill and the other Jack bicker:

“I didn’t trip you. I just wanted to carry the pail for a change. But oh, no. Mr. Big Shot, Mr. I’m-All-Testosterone-All-the-Time has to carry it.”

“You’re a girl. You’re supposed to just hold my hand.”

“Oh, bullshit. And you should go to Urgent Care. Head injuries can be fatal. That would make a lovely bedtime story—’Jack and Jill went up the hill / but Jack fell down and died from a subdural hematoma.’ That’ll send the tots right to Dreamland.”

Mother Goose shushed them both as Jack Horner pointed with his one clean hand and laughed diabolically. “Look!”

Oh, for God’s sake. Whiskers had his head stuck in a mitten and appeared to be suffocating.

“He did it,” shouted Boots, pointing to Cuddles, who made his wide eyes wider: Who, me?

Mother Goose managed to wrestle the mitten off of Whiskers, who promptly hissed and bit her in the wing.

“Go to bed!” shouted Mother Goose. “All of you. To bed. Now!”

Muttering to one another, and dragging their feet, everyone got into the big bed Mother Goose was so proud of.

“That’s better,” she said. “One story. And then right to sleep.”

Cuddles whispered to Boots, “I’ll bet you can’t eat a whole mitten. I did and it was delicious.”

“Has anybody seen my pie?” asked Jack Horner.

Jill sat straight up. “Is that what that is? I thought Jack was bleeding out.”

Mother Goose arched her long neck. She spread her wings so a giant shadow fell across the bed.

“Go to sleep!” she shouted. “I mean it. Go the f— !”

She almost said it.

The room darkened on its own. The kittens huddled together. Jill searched for a hand to hold. Little Jack Horner whimpered and pulled the covers over his head.

Mother Goose limped to the window. There was that moon—a cold, dead rock in the sky spreading its feeble, borrowed light over a whole new world.

THE END

The post Lunacy appeared first on The Horn Book.

The street where we lived

But am still discombobulated after Milan-Venice-Madrid-Amsterdam-Brussels in less than two weeks. I am not a savvy traveler like my friend Elizabeth, who goes to Europe for ten days with one carry-on. I am also not good about Asking–luckily, Richard is (although i think he is still harboring murderous intentions toward the Flemish, whose eagerness to give directions is not matched by the clarity of such.)

Still, what a wonderful honeymoon. Venice was sunny but cool and relatively uncrowded. We stayed at the palatial (literally) apartment of a friend of R’s, situated near the University and the wonderful Campo Santa Margherita, a square that was always lively with little kids, dogs, college students and produce shoppers, depending on the time of day. TWO gelato stands and several restaurants.

Even with the wonderful food (vitello tonnato, YUM) gelato (licorice, YUM),  and art (angels to inspire Tomie de Paola for a lifetime), what I loved most were the vaporetti, the little public boats that could take you everywhere around the city and between its islands. While I knew that Venice had canals and lagoons and gondolas and all, I didn’t quite get that water or walking were the only ways to get around. I could definitely live like that.

Glass lion from Murano

There were a few children’s book moments. On Murano, i bought a little glass lion for Mads, who used to live downstairs and was enthralled with Pinkney’s Lion & the Mouse, and who we would visit in Amsterdam. (His older sister Julia got an elegant glass-bead bracelet while two-year-old terror Lizze received a jumping-jack Pinocchio, which I think will give me nightmares.) And at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum, which was filled with well-groomed and earnest young American interns, I was probably the only person to notice the startling resemblance between the paintings of Peggy’s troubled daughter, Pegeen, and those of children’s-book illustrator Nick Sharratt:

by Pegeen Vail Guggenheim

by Nick Sharratt

More soon.

The post Sono tornato appeared first on The Horn Book.