This rocket hopes to take its readers on a birthday blast—but there may or may not be enough fuel.

Once a year, a one-seat rocket shoots out from Earth. Why? To reveal a special congratulatory banner for a once-a-year event. The second-person narration puts readers in the pilot’s seat and, through a (mostly) ballad-stanza rhyme scheme (abcb), sends them on a journey toward the sun, past meteors, and into the Kuiper belt. The final pages include additional information on how birthdays are measured against the Earth’s rotations around the sun. Collingridge aims for the stars with this title, and he mostly succeeds. The rhyme scheme flows smoothly, which will make listeners happy, but the illustrations (possibly a combination of paint with digital enhancements) may leave the viewers feeling a little cold. The pilot is seen only with a 1960s-style fishbowl helmet that completely obscures the face, gender, and race by reflecting the interior of the rocket ship. This may allow readers/listeners to picture themselves in the role, but it also may divest them of any emotional connection to the story. The last pages—the backside of a triple-gatefold spread—label the planets and include Pluto. While Pluto is correctly labeled as a dwarf planet, it’s an unusual choice to include it but not the other dwarfs: Ceres, Eris, etc. The illustration also neglects to include the asteroid belt or any of the solar system’s moons.

A boy on land and a girl at sea overcome language barriers to become friends.

A girl wearing a white, wide-brimmed hat steers a boat, worry across her face. “I’m lost.” A boy in a red-orange cap holding a conch shell on a string stares out at the sea. “Soy náufrago.” She sees land and heads toward it. He spots the boat, hoping for a friend rather than a foe. As each child notices the other, their mutual trepidation leads to an unexpected initial encounter. “AAAAAAAH!” “¡AAAAAAA!” Both children, however, soon realize they have nothing to fear. Amid island backdrops brimming with rich blues, greens, and oranges, the girl and the boy take tentative steps toward one another. A problem: She speaks English; he speaks Spanish. To communicate, the girl and the boy explore the island and share a little of their worlds. Eventually, the children voyage off the island in the boat, but a sudden storm splits them up. Will the friends reunite? Restrained and spare but potent text whips up an exceptional tale of kinship, where English and Spanish words often converge in meaning. Montalvo’s watercolor, gouache, and graphite artwork brims with verve, leveraging unusual perspectives, thoughtful frames, and vivid tones that culminate in a sublime gatefold. The girl reads as white, while the boy has light brown skin and is cued Latine.