The FatCat Stars

The FatCat Stars (big, yellow, shiny ones) go out to the picture books that we know backwards and love to bits.

The ones that you're seized with a desire to read in the middle of the night or especially, when you don't have them on you.

The ones that make you trace your name on their covers, wishing you'd written them.

The ones, whose pictures sink right into your eyes and stay, and you just feel thankful.

The ones that you walk in and out of - and each time you turn the pages differently, each time you are new.

The ones that you hold onto; fiercely, possessively, lovingly - your copy being irreplaceable. (Rejects from American libraries with the library card stuck at the back, with handwritten entries of names and dates. The spotless second hand that an idiot threw away, luckily for you.)

The ones that loved ones must read to complete your reading experience.

I begin with Crockett Johnson's Harold and the Purple Crayon, a personal favourite, for reasons I can't stop counting. The shape of Harold's head, for instance. Round, moony, slightly oversized and ipso facto, perfect. In his fist, Harold holds his purple crayon; companion, compass and fellow wanderer. (Also, delightfully disproportionate to his tiny hand.)

Armed with his crayon, Harold decides to go for a walk. The book traces his journey through the evening and night - how Harold creates worlds with his crayon, meanders, gets lost and finds his way back.

FatCat Stars:

For its brilliant, minimal text.

For Harold's unusual sense of direction, his dilemmas and the imaginative trials he faces and triumphs.

For the crayoniness of the purple crayon.

N