Good night thoughts

Wide-eyed and worried, Greenfield's relatable child protagonist grapples with insomnia-generated fears in this bedtime book, which balances a serious challenge with silly examples. "My brain is too noisy. My thoughts are too jumpy," says a child beneath a blanket, who experiences unsettling visions of giant robot sharks, a toilet bowl overflowing with tarantulas, and the world exploding like a popcorn kernel. To counter the onslaught, the subject tries imagining a baby panda or "a choir of candy-covered donuts all singing my favorite songs," until accepting that thoughts are "just in my head" finally does the trick. In Serafino's art, varied blues capture the tired figure's mood, while distorted imagery threatens from thought bubbles cast in slime green, bubble gum pink, and burnished gold. The child's rallying effort eventually blows away the concerns, offering readers a fitting visualization of the book's grounding advice that's handy for wakefulness at any age. Ages 3--7. (Sept.)

Actor and author Greenfield's latest picture book follows a child kept awake by anxieties. The pajama-clad narrator huddles in bed among the blue shadows of a bedroom at night. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm afraid of all the scary stuff I see." Bright, candy-hued clouds of cartoon images surround the child, lively, disruptive depictions of the what-ifs and exaggerated disasters that crowd out sleep: war (we see the world pop "into a piece of popcorn"), kidnapping (pirates carry away the child's teddy bear), falling "up" into the sun, tarantulas in the toilet, and a menacing-looking dentist. These outsize insomnia inducers may help readers put their own unvoiced concerns into perspective; after all, what frightens one person might seem silly but understandable to another. Our narrator tries to replace the unsettling thoughts with happy ones--hugging a baby panda, being serenaded by a choir of doughnuts, and "all the people who love me holding hands and wearing every piece of clothing that they own." But sleep is still elusive. Finally, remembering that there's a difference between reality and an overactive imagination, the child relaxes a bit: "Right now, everything is okay. And so am I." Reassuring, though not exactly sedate, this tale will spark daytime discussions about how difficult it can be to quiet unsettling thoughts. The child has dark hair and blue-tinged skin, reflecting the darkness of the bedroom. Relatable guidance for nocturnal worriers. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.