I volunteer as a reader at a local school once a week, so I know more about children's books than adult ones these days. This week we picked up a copy of Chris Riddell's Ottoline and the Yellow Cat; while my six-year-old friend was less than impressed (it was "boring" - that word was banned in my junior school - and anyway, she wanted to read books with big pictures and no words) I have found my new fiction hero.
The style was familiar from Riddell's political cartoons in the Observer, but I'd never encountered his children's stories (over 100 at the last count!). The book has a totally bizarre storyline (Ottoline lives in a New York apartment with Mr Munroe, a small hairy thing from a Norwegian bog, where she curates her parents' collection of random objects (four-spouted teapots anyone?)) and quirky line drawings (there are so many images it's a bit like a graphic novel), which are tagged to provide extra snippets of information; there are hidden joys on every page.
In short, it's everything I love in a storybook. I'm smitten.
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