On Oct. 8, 2010, the New York Times ran a story on its front page: “Picture Books No Longer a Staple for Children.” As we interviewed children’s publishing professionals while compiling this list, several told us they remembered exactly where they were when they read this death knell for their industry. The Times wasn’t wrong: Sales were down, especially of new books. Once upon a time, an adult shopping for a child might have bought a classic they remembered from their own childhood, and also a new book, recommended by a bookseller. More and more, buyers just went for the classic—almost always Seuss or Sendak—and new books languished on the shelves.
But, feared a number of ambitious authors and illustrators, the art form’s struggles couldn’t simply be blamed (as the Times suggested) on achievement-obsessed adults pushing chapter books too early. Picture books were struggling artistically too. The next year, a group of 21 creators issued a picture-book manifesto. “WE BELIEVE,” the manifesto read, “we must cease writing the same book again and again.” Books for children should be “fresh, honest, piquant, and beautiful,” and unafraid to be odd: “Even books meant to put kids to sleep should give them strange dreams.” And, added the document, “WE CONDEMN … the amnesiacs who treasure unruly classics while praising the bland today.”
This call to arms had a ring of truth to it. When we became parents, we too initially gravitated toward the unruly classics we loved as children, while shying away from new picture books. There were just so many of them! The ones we saw on the front tables in bookstores all seemed to be authored by celebrities—or, worse, were branded tie-ins promoting movies and TV shows. How could any of them be as good as the books of our youth, let alone better?
But picture books have undergone a revolution in the past 25 years—one that was already underway before that Times obit, but which that manifesto helped spur along. The art form is now remarkably different from what it was when we were little.
To start with, a dramatically more varied cast of characters both stars in picture books and makes them. The industry, encouraged by activist organizations like We Need Diverse Books, has belatedly come to understand the value of making books that, in the words of the influential academic Rudine Sims Bishop, offer young readers not only “mirrors” of their own experience but “windows” into the lives of others. Stories by and about nonwhite, nonstraight people are now much more likely to appear in libraries and bookstores, become bestsellers, and win awards.
But other, less obvious changes have swept the art form as well. A turn-of-the-millennium boom in animation, led by Pixar, gave rise to more illustrators making a living as storytellers—and, frustrated by the machinations of Hollywood studios, telling their own stories in a simpler, more personal form. Creators, including many signatories to the 2011 manifesto, have become more interested in innovating within, and subverting, the picture-book form: shortening the text, breaking the fourth wall, and fostering reader interaction—encouraged, perhaps, by the success of a certain argumentative pigeon. Picture-book nonfiction has grown in popularity, becoming especially useful in classrooms—where older elementary and middle school students, often fans of now-commonplace graphic novels, find it crucial in accessing difficult historical topics. And, of course, celebrities have flocked to the picture book—with mostly lukewarm results, although at least one TV star has published an unalloyed work of ridiculous genius. You’ll find it on our list.
To make this guide, we surveyed more than a hundred authors, illustrators, librarians, booksellers, academics, and publishing pros. We ended up reading more than 200 books, for which we must fulsomely thank our local libraries. Our goal: to find the books that represent the best of these transformations, and to tell the story of an art form that responded to a front-page crisis with a new wave of inventive stories that respect the intelligence, playfulness, and widely differing experiences of young readers.
you're being pointlessly aggressive about something that is subjective and which obviously cannot progress from the fundamental disagreement you have here, please chill out a bit