K-Gr 3 —A tiny paper bird lives behind the green bookshelf in a young girl's room and creates art out of found objects such as thread, tape, and rubber bands. One day she makes a new friend, a crinkled piece of spiral-bound paper that she crafts into a six-legged, long-tongued animal, but when her friend is sucked up by a monster (the vacuum), Lonely Bird sets off on a daring adventure to rescue him. Spare oil paintings that are luminous and detailed bring the simple household objects of Lonely Bird's world to life and the white 2D bird appears stark and small in contrast. Children will enjoy looking at the home from the small bird's perspective. The narrative, tight with few words, puts the emphasis on the art. The only human visible is the young girl ("like her, the smallest human likes to make things") who scoops up the rescued paper friend at the end and includes it in her own artwork. Lonely Bird, in turn, turns the adventure into an illustrated book that he reads to the wall outlet. VERDICT A distinctive, tender tale about friendship and the endless possibilities of art and creativity, this is recommended for picture book collections, but would also complement makerspaces.—Carrie Voliva

Lonely Bird makes a friend, loses him, rescues him, and finds him a new home.Visually, Whiting's picture-book debut is a charmer. Crafted from white paper, Lonely Bird is shaped like a bean, with just dots for eyes, a tiny triangle beak, and stick legs. She is placed amid cozy domestic scenes lushly realized in oils; she's small, about the height of the spool of thread she keeps in her back-of-the-bookcase home. Her new friend, a scrap of paper ripped from a spiral-bound notebook (the ruffles are its many feet), is sweetly doglike, and when he's sucked into the vacuum cleaner with a "swglooooooosh," readers will be as distressed as Lonely Bird. Moments in the plot are likewise engaging, especially Lonely Bird's long trek across the kitchen floor to the "monster's lair," where the vacuum cleaner slumbers, her descent into the very belly of that beast to retrieve her friend, and, finally, her decision to find her pal a new home: a sheet of paper with a drawing of a tree. But however cunning individual scenes may be, the story doesn't hang together and will leave young listeners with questions. Why does Lonely Bird separate herself from her friend so easily? Is she really not very lonely after all? Why is that her name, then? And most puzzling of all: What is her relationship with the electrical outlet in the kitchen? The human family that inhabits Lonely Bird's house presents white. (This book was reviewed digitally.)Leaves readers teetering between delight and bafflement. (Picture book. 5-7)

Lonely Bird, an ephemeral pencil sketch on white paper, steps off the page and explores a suburban home in this quiet friendship story. “Do you think they even know I am here?” the paperclip-size cutout wonders, watching the pale-skinned family’s children play outdoors. Using tape, a rubber band, and a ragged edge of notebook paper, Lonely Bird crafts a companion, referencing the image of an Henri Rousseau lion. When the fragile paper lion is vacuumed up, Lonely Bird waits for nightfall, then heads “into the sleeping monster’s throat” to retrieve her friend. Whiting illustrates in naturalistic oil paintings, with the winsome, minimalist Lonely Bird collaged into the spreads. Reminiscent of Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, the story’s drama unfolds at the margins of human domesticity and never shakes off its tender melancholy. Ages 4–8. (Oct.)