I talk like a river

A young boy awakens filled with words that make him stutter. P sounds tangle his tongue, like pine tree roots; C sticks in the back of his throat like a crow's caw; and M makes him mumble. He compensates by remaining silent, which evokes laughter in his classmates. Only Dad knows what to do. The two go to the river where Dad explains that the water moves the way the boy speaks: bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing. Calmed, the boy is able to return to class and speak of his favorite place, the river. Scott's lyrical text speaks movingly of "bad speech days" and the personal trauma that results from this disability. Smith's watercolor, ink, and gouache illustrations echo the story's contemplative mood. Much of the art has a slightly gauzy, out-of-focus feel, appropriate to the quiet tone of this narrative. Blues and greens predominate (especially in the river scenes), with pink used as an accent. Those looking for a dramatic improvement in this child's disfluency may be disappointed; in real life, stuttering can persist into adulthood. Instead Scott demonstrates how a caring adult can help to diffuse anxiety, enabling a stutterer to speak in spite of disfluency. Full of reassurance and understanding, this is a much-needed look at a common language problem.

Sometimes a few words can transform a child's life. In this autobiographical story by Canadian poet Scott (Night & Ox, for adults), a boy who stutters is given a new way to think about his speech. He describes words in his mouth and the anguish of his classroom: "All those eyes watching/ my lips/ twist and twirl,/ all those mouths/ giggling/ and laughing." One "bad speech day," his father picks him up from school and takes him to the quiet river, where they look for rocks and sit on the bank. "See how that water moves? That's how you speak," his father says. Following frustration-tinged spreads, Smith (Small in the City) zooms in on the boy's face as he watches the river "bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing." He closes his eyes, taking in the words' meaning, then ventures into the water, shown in a shimmering double gatefold. "This is what I like to remember,/ to help stop myself from crying/ I talk like a river." Artwork makes the internal change a light-filled experience, an account of the moment in which the child experiences himself and his individual way of speaking as part of the great forces of the natural world. Ages 4--8. Author's agent: Hilary McMahon, Westwood Creative Artists. Illustrator's agent: Emily Van Beek, Folio Jr./Folio Literary Management. (Sept.)

Gr 1--4--In first-person narration about the author as a boy, this debut brings readers into the world of dysfluency, that is, stuttering. The narrator, a white boy, sits alone at the kitchen table before school, imagining how badly his day will go, and it's even worse. The letters M, P, and C bring special terrors for the garbled sounds they demand of him in a school day, when the teacher asks students to describe a favorite place. His solitude is, for readers, almost unbearable until he returns to his understanding father. He knows about a "bad speech day," and takes his son to the river. There, without many words, he explains how his son talks like the river, with ebbs and flows, a rush of sounds, emotion, and meaning streaming. The boy's dawning realization brings the story to a resonant pause, in a foldout that opens to a vast four-page spread of the sparkling waters that surround him. And then the remembrance resumes, for when he returns to school, he talks about his special place in his own manner, his dysfluency making him and his telling unique. Smith's lyrical, color-saturated paintings capture mighty nature as well as the blurred, staring faces of schoolmates, who mock and laugh but mostly do not understand the main character's inner world. An author's note, in tiny type but very personal and expressive, outlines the journey Scott has taken to make peace with himself. VERDICT By turns heartbreaking and illuminating, this picture book brings one more outsider into the fold through economy of language and an abundance of love.--Kimberly Olson Fakih, School Library Journal

In this lyrical and empowering picture book, Canadian poet Scott tells a story based on his own experiences as a boy who stuttered. In simple, evocative language, he captures the isolation, social devastation, and self-doubt of a child who feels incapable of communicating his thoughts and offers an affirming way to think about difference. As the boy's dad picks him up from school one day and takes him for a walk by the river to de-stress and relax, the narrative goes beyond the calming solace found in the natural world to make a more profound comparison and connection. The man reassures his son that his speech is like a river. Using this imagery and language, the boy is able to think about his dysfluency in a new way, realizing that sometimes his speech is "bubbling, whirling, churning, and crashing"; sometimes calm and smooth, just like the ever-shifting waters of the river. Smith's (Town Is by the Sea, rev. 3/17; Small in the City, rev. 11/19) verdant and light-infused paintings pack an emotional punch and provide the perfect complement to the poet's words. The varied layouts and dazzling spreads keep the boy center stage and lovingly framed. An expressive double-page close-up of the boy's face opens to a spectacularly effective gatefold of the child in the embrace of the river's sparkling water (Smith captures the play of light on water like nobody else). I Talk like a River is not mere bibliotherapy; it is instead a meditation for all children on self-acceptance, finding one's voice, and reconsidering what is labeled as normative. An important and unforgettable offering presented with natural beauty and grace. Luann Toth November/December 2020 p.82(c) Copyright 2020. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A young boy describes how it feels to stutter and how his father's words see him through "bad speech day[s]." Lyrical, painfully acute language and absorbing, atmospheric illustrations capture, with startling clarity, this school-age child's daily struggle with speech. Free verse emulates the pauses of interrupted speech while slowing down the reading, allowing the words to settle. When coupled with powerful metaphors, the effect is gut-wrenching: "The P / in pine tree / grows roots / inside my mouth / and tangles / my tongue." Dappled paintings inspire empathy as well, with amorphous scenes infused with the uncertainty that defines both the boy's unpredictable speech and his melancholy. Specificity arrives in the artwork solely at the river, where boy and father go after a particularly bad morning. Scenery comes into focus, and readers feel the boy's relief in this refuge where he can breathe deeply, be quiet, and think clearly. At this extraordinary book's center, a double gatefold shows the child wading in shimmering waters, his back to readers, his face toward sunlight. His father pulls his son close and muses that the boy "talk[s] like a river," choppy in places, churning in others, and smooth beyond. (Father and son both appear White.) Young readers will turn this complex idea over in their minds again and again. The author includes a moving autobiographical essay prompting readers to think even further about speech, sounds, communication, self-esteem, and sympathy. An astounding articulation of both what it feels like to be different and how to make peace with it. (Picture book. 4-8) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

*Starred Review* A young boy awakens filled with words that make him stutter. P sounds tangle his tongue, like pine tree roots; C sticks in the back of his throat like a crow's caw; and M makes him mumble. He compensates by remaining silent, which evokes laughter in his classmates. Only Dad knows what to do. The two go to the river where Dad explains that the water moves the way the boy speaks: bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing. Calmed, the boy is able to return to class and speak of his favorite place, the river. Scott's lyrical text speaks movingly of "bad speech days" and the personal trauma that results from this disability. Smith's watercolor, ink, and gouache illustrations echo the story's contemplative mood. Much of the art has a slightly gauzy, out-of-focus feel, appropriate to the quiet tone of this narrative. Blues and greens predominate (especially in the river scenes), with pink used as an accent. Those looking for a dramatic improvement in this child's disfluency may be disappointed; in real life, stuttering can persist into adulthood. Instead Scott demonstrates how a caring adult can help to diffuse anxiety, enabling a stutterer to speak in spite of disfluency. Full of reassurance and understanding, this is a much-needed look at a common language problem. Grades K-3. Copyright 2020 Booklist Reviews.

Sometimes a few words can transform a child's life. In this autobiographical story by Canadian poet Scott (Night & Ox, for adults), a boy who stutters is given a new way to think about his speech. He describes words in his mouth and the anguish of his classroom: "All those eyes watching/ my lips/ twist and twirl,/ all those mouths/ giggling/ and laughing." One "bad speech day," his father picks him up from school and takes him to the quiet river, where they look for rocks and sit on the bank. "See how that water moves? That's how you speak," his father says. Following frustration-tinged spreads, Smith (Small in the City) zooms in on the boy's face as he watches the river "bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing." He closes his eyes, taking in the words' meaning, then ventures into the water, shown in a shimmering double gatefold. "This is what I like to remember,/ to help stop myself from crying/ I talk like a river." Artwork makes the internal change a light-filled experience, an account of the moment in which the child experiences himself and his individual way of speaking as part of the great forces of the natural world. Ages 4–8. Author's agent: Hilary McMahon, Westwood Creative Artists. Illustrator's agent: Emily Van Beek, Folio Jr./Folio Literary Management. (Sept.)

Gr 1–4—In first-person narration about the author as a boy, this debut brings readers into the world of dysfluency, that is, stuttering. The narrator, a white boy, sits alone at the kitchen table before school, imagining how badly his day will go, and it's even worse. The letters M, P, and C bring special terrors for the garbled sounds they demand of him in a school day, when the teacher asks students to describe a favorite place. His solitude is, for readers, almost unbearable until he returns to his understanding father. He knows about a "bad speech day," and takes his son to the river. There, without many words, he explains how his son talks like the river, with ebbs and flows, a rush of sounds, emotion, and meaning streaming. The boy's dawning realization brings the story to a resonant pause, in a foldout that opens to a vast four-page spread of the sparkling waters that surround him. And then the remembrance resumes, for when he returns to school, he talks about his special place in his own manner, his dysfluency making him and his telling unique. Smith's lyrical, color-saturated paintings capture mighty nature as well as the blurred, staring faces of schoolmates, who mock and laugh but mostly do not understand the main character's inner world. An author's note, in tiny type but very personal and expressive, outlines the journey Scott has taken to make peace with himself. VERDICT By turns heartbreaking and illuminating, this picture book brings one more outsider into the fold through economy of language and an abundance of love.—Kimberly Olson Fakih, School Library Journal