One frozen lake
(Book)

After walking across a frozen lake one morning, a boy and his grandfather make holes in the ice, drop their fishing lines into the water, and wait. After five hours, they move into a heated canvas shack and try again. They share hot cocoa with friends, but Seven hours pass. / Not one fish. Packing up at nine o'clock, they reel in a line and catch a fish. That would be a happy ending, but Larson trumps it with an even better one. The staccato lines of the picture book's text tell a quiet, satisfying story, but its artwork transports readers to the unusual setting, which children might find difficult to imagine on their own. Even the snow and ice glow with subtle color variations in the pleasing digital collage artwork, which combines painted, drawn, and printed elements. In many of the illustrations, a cross section of four-inch ice divides the boy and his grandfather from the dark, mysterious water below them. An inviting introduction to a rarely written about activity.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2010 Booklist

Larson debuts with an atmospheric ode to ice fishing and intergenerational companionship, and she reels in a pair of pros as collaborators: Johnson and Fancher (It's Milking Time) fill their spreads with Woolrich-ready plaids, maps of lakes, lures, and vintage angler-themed advertisements, creating a setting that's both playful and attentive to the details of the sport. Larson's story follows a freckled boy and his grandfather as they set up their fishing site, drill holes in the ice, and wait. The unrhymed verse is suggestive of a counting book ("One frozen lake./ Two fishing friends./ Three bundles packed with/ Line, lures, and snacks"), but rather than building straight up to 10, Larson restarts the count three times ("One frozen lake./ One canvas shack"), making readers wait patiently (just like fishermen must) for the moment when the boy finally snags "A fish!/ Ten inches!/ A keeper!/ Yeah!" Even then, the story isn't quite over, and readers will come to recognize that a day spent in good company is more important than whether one's fishing bucket is full on the way home. Ages 3-7. (Nov.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Grandpa and grandson go ice fishing in this pseudo counting book written in verse. The book's strong suit is the evocative collage-style paintings capturing the historical essence of this northern pastime--with faded lures, maps, and scraps of old newspaper peppering the background. Unfortunately, the unwieldy meter is crowded with too many syllables and the counting backbone lacks consistent organization. (c) Copyright 2013. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

After walking across a frozen lake one morning, a boy and his grandfather make holes in the ice, drop their fishing lines into the water, and wait. After five hours, they move into a heated canvas shack and try again. They share hot cocoa with friends, but "Seven hours pass. / Not one fish." Packing up at nine o'clock, they reel in a line and catch a fish. That would be a happy ending, but Larson trumps it with an even better one. The staccato lines of the picture book's text tell a quiet, satisfying story, but its artwork transports readers to the unusual setting, which children might find difficult to imagine on their own. Even the snow and ice glow with subtle color variations in the pleasing digital collage artwork, which combines painted, drawn, and printed elements. In many of the illustrations, a cross section of four-inch ice divides the boy and his grandfather from the dark, mysterious water below them. An inviting introduction to a rarely written about activity. Copyright 2012 Booklist Reviews.

Larson debuts with an atmospheric ode to ice fishing and intergenerational companionship, and she reels in a pair of pros as collaborators: Johnson and Fancher (It's Milking Time) fill their spreads with Woolrich-ready plaids, maps of lakes, lures, and vintage angler-themed advertisements, creating a setting that's both playful and attentive to the details of the sport. Larson's story follows a freckled boy and his grandfather as they set up their fishing site, drill holes in the ice, and wait. The unrhymed verse is suggestive of a counting book ("One frozen lake./ Two fishing friends./ Three bundles packed with/ Line, lures, and snacks"), but rather than building straight up to 10, Larson restarts the count three times ("One frozen lake./ One canvas shack"), making readers wait patiently (just like fishermen must) for the moment when the boy finally snags "A fish!/ Ten inches!/ A keeper!/ Yeah!" Even then, the story isn't quite over, and readers will come to recognize that a day spent in good company is more important than whether one's fishing bucket is full on the way home. Ages 3â??7. (Nov.)

Larson debuts with an atmospheric ode to ice fishing and intergenerational companionship, and she reels in a pair of pros as collaborators: Johnson and Fancher (It's Milking Time) fill their spreads with Woolrich-ready plaids, maps of lakes, lures, and vintage angler-themed advertisements, creating a setting that's both playful and attentive to the details of the sport. Larson's story follows a freckled boy and his grandfather as they set up their fishing site, drill holes in the ice, and wait. The unrhymed verse is suggestive of a counting book ("One frozen lake./ Two fishing friends./ Three bundles packed with/ Line, lures, and snacks"), but rather than building straight up to 10, Larson restarts the count three times ("One frozen lake./ One canvas shack"), making readers wait patiently (just like fishermen must) for the moment when the boy finally snags "A fish!/ Ten inches!/ A keeper!/ Yeah!" Even then, the story isn't quite over, and readers will come to recognize that a day spent in good company is more important than whether one's fishing bucket is full on the way home. Ages 3â??7. (Nov.)