A NEW ROOM FOR WILLIAM

It is a sad day for young William. He has had to leave all that is familiar: his home, his old room, and although it is unspoken until the end yet resonant throughout, his father. His new room is bleak: “His old room had a soft red carpet and bright yellow curtains. This room was bare except for his bed and a pile of boxes.” William doesn’t even return the wave of a boy he can see from his window. But gradually, both William and his grim surroundings start to thaw. At the store, he plans to choose his old wallpaper but then spies some with a dinosaur pattern. When he gets home, he gets his dinosaur collection out of its box and starts to play. He offers a tentative wave to the boy out the window. The next day, as his mom papers his room, he meets the boy and they become fast friends. Charging into his room when the wallpapering is finished, they find it just the cat’s meow. That’s when, on the last page, Grindley detonates her bomb—“Will dad let me choose the paper for my room at his new house?” wonders William—which is stark naked and not a little cruel. This point was fairly perking under the surface, and was more effective kept where it tapped into children’s feelings without throwing it in their faces. Thompson’s art, with its tender colors and wobbly lines, works well throughout the book, even softening that final blow. (Picture book. 4-8)