ALA Booklist (Fri Feb 01 00:00:00 CST 2002)

Solitude is the subject of this large-size picture book about a boy who discovers the joy of being alone when he gets away from the busy streets and clamoring grown-ups. The pretty, framed, full-page pictures have an old-fashioned Saturday Evening Post feel to them, which will appeal more to parents and grandparents than to kids. It's evident in the views of cars in the crowded city as well as in the boy's idyllic dreams of escape, which show no evidence of television, computers, or video games. Still, even if the details are dated, many children will welcome the change of pace, and the imaginary adventures are elemental: the boy rides for the Pony Express; he's a pirate, a cave dweller, an explorer discovering a lost continent, an art museum visitor, and a solitary fisherman at a pond. The books he reads at home and at the library have thick, old binding, but children will recognize that they help the boy play alone and travel the universe.

Horn Book (Thu Apr 01 00:00:00 CST 2004)

Robin, a sorcerer's apprentice, lives on the Lost Isle--a place where knights and magic co-exist with computers and videos. When an acquaintance is kidnapped by monsters, Robin uses his newfound magical powers to transport himself and several friends to the "Uncertain World" in order to find her. The plot is diffuse and the writing is sometimes prosaic, but the setting is downright fascinating.

Kirkus Reviews

PlayStation, cable television, and computers be damned: in his latest effort, Wood ( What Mom's Can't Do , not reviewed, etc.) hearkens back to a simpler time to suggest an alternative to the modern child. "Sometimes a person needs a quiet place . . . but it can be hard to find one. / You have to know where to look." Andreasen's ( A House in the Mail , p. 53, etc.) lifelike illustrations provide just the right accompaniment on this imaginative journey. In the opening spread, a framed snapshot-sized vignette shows a boy holding his ears to block out the sounds of the city. On the opposite page, a full-size portrait rendered in dim acrylics captures morning light on a busy Manhattan street. Throughout, fantasy and reality are juxtaposed. In one spread, for example, the child relaxes in the open air of a dark wood. "You might find an old stump for a chair / or a mossy log for a couch." Rendered in deep green, dusky blue, and brown, the portrait on the opposite page reveals the boy as he imagines himself "a timber wolf, / the gray ghost of the forest." Later, the boy visits a museum and imagines himself an artist. Each special setting (the beach, a hilltop, and the library among them) offers uncommon beauty, adventure, and serenity. In the final scene, the child returns home to find "the very best quiet place of all— / the one that's always there, no matter / where you go or where you stay— / the one inside of you." Solid soul guidance for a media-saturated society. (Picture book. 5-9)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

Wood (<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">Old Turtle) joins serene settings and dreams of adventure for a vivid romp through a child's imagination. Readers will relate to the ruddy-cheeked, blond city-dweller, who—with hands clamped tightly over his ears—yearns for respite from "whistles shrieking and/ grown-ups talking and/ engines roaring and/ .../ grown-ups talking...." In prose saturated with simile and metaphor, Wood suggests numerous subdued spots for solitude—from ponds and deserts to caverns and museums—and then interjects the boy's fantasies into the mix. "You could look in the desert,/ where Old Man Saguaro reaches for the sky,/ and far-off thunderheads bloom/ like sky-flowers over the mesas./ .../ And you can be a Pony Express rider/ galloping through the Old West." That fantasy can loom larger than life is reflected in the layout of each spread: a small painting of the boy in his quiet place faces a full-page rendering of his daydream. For example, readers glimpse the boy leaving footprints on a beach; opposite, he's a flag-planting conquistador on a sandy shore. Andreasen (<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">The Stars that Shine) laces his realistic oil paintings with a touch of otherworldliness. In muted hues and soft edges, the artist conveys far-ranging settings—the boy, who seems at home in a Rockwellian yesteryear, envisions himself also as prehistoric caveman, swashbuckling treasure-finder, spaceman, etc. These scenarios will hold children rapt until the concluding thought—perhaps a bit lofty for the very young—that people hold within themselves "the very best quiet place of all." Ages 3-7. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(Apr.)

School Library Journal (Mon Jul 01 00:00:00 CDT 2002)

Gr 2-4 A boy feels the need for a calm, noise-free spot. He seems to live in a time decades ago if the cars and clothes in an early illustration are representative; however, most of the other full-page oil paintings are flights of fancy. While a variety of escape solutions are presented in text and art, they each seem to have negative aspects to them: the lilac bush is too close to home and "someone calls you to clean your room," the woods are "too dark and deep," the beach is "not your cup of tea," the desert is "a bit too dry," the fish in the pond "aren't biting," the cave could be "too cold and damp," legs are "too tired for climbing" to the top of the hill, "it's too warm for snowdrifts," the museum is closed, and the library isn't open. The final option of finding the quiet within may seem ideal to those who know the way to that place, but most children won't have the map. It seems a shame that all of the rich daydreams are shown to be potentially flawed rather than stops along the way. This is a lovely presentation of a concept that is sure to enchant adults and elude the audience for whom it may have been created. Jody McCoy, The Bush School, Seattle, WA