The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt (review)

"One day in class, Duncan went to take out his crayons and found a stack of letters with his name on them." What follows is a hilarious epistolary tale wherein each crayon, in childlike printing on lined paper, shares something with Duncan. Some feel overworked ("Gray crayon here. You're KILLING ME! I know you love Elephants. And I know that elephants are gray . . . but that's a LOT of space to color in all by myself "), some feel underappreciated (writes Beige Crayon, "The only things I get are turkey dinners (if I'm lucky) and wheat, and let's be honest—when was the last time you saw a kid excited about coloring wheat?"). Some crayons are caught up in disputes (Orange Crayon and Yellow Crayon both insist they are the true color of the sun, as evidenced by pages from coloring books that Duncan completed), while others have entirely unique issues ("It's me, peach crayon . Why did you peel off my paper wrapping?? Now I'm NAKED and too embarrassed to leave the crayon box"). Each spread includes a reproduction of the actual letter (written in crayon, of course) on the verso, facing an appropriate composition such as a childlike crayon drawing or a colored-in page from a coloring book. The crayons themselves, with deceptively simple line and dot faces, are rich in emotion and character, and it's entertaining to consider each crayon's representation in light of the voice in its letter. While potential lessons in inference, point of view, and persuasive writing abound in the crayons' letters, this is guaranteed to see just as much use for being just plain fun. Move over, Click, Clack, Moo (BCCB 9/00); we've got a new contender for most successful picture-book strike.