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Summary
Summary
A STEM-friendly tale of a girl and the doll she upgrades to be her new friend, for fans of The Most Magnificent Thing and Rosie Revere, Engineer.
Charlotte's world is fully charged! With her dog at her side, she's always tinkering, coding, clicking, and downloading. She's got a knack for anything technological--especially gadgets that her parents don't know how to fix! Then, she receives a new toy that is quite a puzzle: a doll! What's she supposed to do with that ? Once she discovers the doll's hidden battery pack, things start to get interesting...while her faithful canine sidekick wonders if he'll be overshadowed by the new and improved Doll-E 1.0! With a little ingenuity and an open mind, everyone can be friends in this endearing, modern tribute to the creative spirit of play.
Reviews (6)
School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-Parents and children will enjoy this original take on the wired generation. Bespectacled Charlotte always has her head "in the cloud" as she tinkers with coding and downloading, teaches her parents how to use technology, and frolics with virtual reality, along with her faithful terrier, Blutooth. Concerned with her obsession, Charlotte's parents gift her an old-fashioned "mama" doll. When the "human shaped pillow" only sits and says one word, Charlotte takes it apart, discovers a power supply, and begins planning upgrades. Gradually getting more and more frustrated with lack of Charlotte's attention, Blutooth shreds the doll. Persistent Charlotte dons goggles and gloves, uses her spare parts collection, and creates Doll-E 1.0. Once the doll is more interactive, Charlotte enjoys her modified toy and Blutooth is happy it can take him for a run and offer biscuits. McCloskey's watercolor cartoons were edited in Photoshop. The pages are loaded with elements of Charlotte's zany collections. Her long electric blue hair, plaid dress, and yellow pearls are eye-catching. VERDICT McCloskey's picture book debut is not one to miss. A fun addition.-Gay Lynn Van Vleck, Henrico County Library, Glen Allen, VA © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
Charlotte is a little tech whiz (her "head was always in the cloud"), but while her parents appreciate having the personal IT support ("Easy fix, Mom. Just press this, this, and this") it's clear they're worried, too; readers see them watching an alarmist news report, "Are Your Kids Too Techy?" They surprise Charlotte with the lowest-tech doll possible, which, to her mind, is like giving her a "human shaped pillow." Then Charlotte learns that the doll has a battery-driven voice box-even if the doll only says "Mama." This discovery, coupled with an unfortunate doll dismemberment by Charlotte's terrier, enables the heroine to discover the fun to be had in the middle ground between analog and digital. Debut author McCloskey overcrowds her book with a few too many tech-themed nudges and winks (even Charlotte's dog is named Blutooth). But her pencil and watercolor cartoons have a fetching exuberance, and the bespectacled, brainy Charlotte, who never doubts her talents, is an admirable whirlwind of energy and ideas. Ages 4-7. Agent: Erica Rand Silverman, Stimola Literary Studio. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Charlotte's parents appreciate her ever-useful tech-savviness but worry about screen time, so they give their daughter a doll to encourage imaginative play. Nonplussed, Charlotte updates the "human-shaped pillow" into "Doll-E 1.0." McCloskey's appealing illustrations, in pencil and watercolor and edited in Photoshop, fuse old and new technologies, echoing the story line of bringing classic play into the gadget-focused present day. (c) Copyright 2019. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
A young girl receives a puzzling gift.Young Charlotte has always been the most tech-savvy member of her family, helping her mother with a tablet and her father with the smart TV. After Charlotte's parents observe a news report cautioning against letting kids get "too techy," the couple presents Charlotte with a doll. The doll doesn't move or think--it simply sits and utters the word "Ma-ma." Charlotte reasons that for a doll to talk it must have a power supply, and with a few modifications and a little imagination, Charlotte's doll becomes Doll-E 1.0. The STEM-friendly narrative is brought to life with charming pencil-and-watercolor illustrations, edited in Photoshop. The scratchy lines are reminiscent of the pictures children like Charlotte sketch at their drawing boards, and the dynamic compositions burst with energy. Charlotte is an engaging character, expressive and thoughtful in equal measure. Charlotte's doll is adorably rendered, looking mostly like any other common doll but just unique enough that little ones may want one of their own. Charlotte and her family present white; little dog Bluetooth is a scruffy, white terrier.An engaging story arguing for the marriage of technology with creativity and play. (Picture book. 3-6)
Booklist Review
Young Charlotte always has her head in the cloud. Not a cloud, the cloud coding, tinkering, and manipulating all things electronic. One day, Mom gives her a doll: a strange human-shaped pillow that doesn't do anything except sit there and stare. Perplexed, Charlotte tries getting Dolly to help build something or play video games, but no luck. Finally something does happen: Dolly says, Ma-ma. Realizing she must have a power source, Charlotte opens Dolly up and initiates vocabulary database improvements. Everything goes smoothly until the jealous dog grabs Dolly and rips her to shreds. Upset, Charlotte makes repairs, creating Doll-E 1.0. This new version is vastly improved, especially after Charlotte restores her cute little bright eyes. The final scene shows Doll-E 1.0 going for a remote-controlled stroller ride courtesy of Mama Charlotte. The primary-color cartoon illustrations pop off of the pages, and the black-outlined characters (wonderfully expressive, spectacle-wearing Charlotte; benign Dolly) practically tell the story themselves. An enjoyable romp for readers, whether they're plugged in or not.--McBroom, Kathleen Copyright 2018 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
Why are we so sure that reading books to kids is a valorous act, far superior to cuing up the nefarious iPad? Yes, story time can be tender, and the iPad a mechanized babysitter. But my kids - in the glassy absorption they display, and their addict's insistence on "another!" whenever the current entertainment concludes - can seem as mindlessly hooked on the narrative technology of the picture book as on the exploits of the PAW Patrol. Four new picture books make inventive use of that sturdy old technology as they tell stories for kids living modern, computer-saturated childhoods. Some of these books are skeptical about the value of our wires and devices, while others embrace the possibilities change may bring. UNPLUGGED (SCHOLASTIC, 32 PP., $17.99; ages 3 to 7), written and illustrated by Steve Antony, is in the former camp; it's a gorgeous piece of propaganda for going outside. Our hero is Blip, a sweet, squareheaded robot with goggly eyes and a cheerful smile. In a suite of grayscale pages featuring cables, monitors and pixelated images on screens, Blip revels in the pleasures her computer brings. She plays counting and singing games, watches jugglers and waterfalls, and falls asleep contented by a charcoal-hued screen saver of the sun going down. Then, Blip trips and falls down the stairs, bouncing out her front door and into a technicolor wonderland where three forest creatures (including dead ringers for Bambi and Thumper, plus a duck) help her explore nature. Antony's use of vivid but gentle color here conveys the full spectrum of joy Blip discovers. As it turns out, her favorite computer pursuits - counting and singing, juggling and exploring - can all be done with friends outdoors. Vibrant scenes that slyly mirror each online activity depicted in the first half of the book reinforce the point. If that point feels slightly simplistic - for most kids, mere exposure to a tree swing does not result in the total renunciation of modern technology - the book is so elegantly illustrated and cleverly conceived, and Blip so charming, that you won't mind. One person who might reject this Luddite message, though, is Charlotte, the protagonist of Shanda McCloskey's DOLL-E 1.0 (LITTLE, BROWN, 42 PP., $18.99; AGES 4 TO 8). Charlotte has electric blue hair, a pet dog named Blutooth and a holster for her drill attached to her desk. She spends her time trying out virtual reality headsets and troubleshooting her parents' computer woes while they watch news reports investigating whether kids are "too techy." Then she's given a doll. For a tinkerer like Charlotte, this "human-shaped pillow" is a disappointing gift, It's useless as a playmate; it can't dance or build things or do anything at all except say the word "mama," a role Charlotte rejects. ("How can 1 be your mama?" she asks. "I'm just a kid.") But then Charlotte realizes any toy that can talk must have a "power supply," and she sets to work, retooling the doll to be the souped-up companion she's dreamed of. "Doll-E 1.0" is McCloskey's debut, and it's a vigorous, witty and valuable addition to the still too-small shelf of books about girls and engineering. Where titles like "Rosie Revere, Engineer" feature characters struggling to find the confidence to experiment and build, Charlotte wears her technical prowess with brisk nonchalance, which allows McCloskey to tell a more complex and surprising story. Charlotte's power is a given. The fact that it stems from her facility with things electrical - literal power - is underscored by McCloskey's animated illustrations. The pages are enlivened with bolts of high-voltage yellow, and they lovingly record the detritus of our electrified lives: There are more cords, wires, outlets, plugs and batteries here than you typically see in the sylvan tableaus of kiddie lit. Before we were so wired, however, we had the subject of Samantha Berger's new picture book, SNAIL MAIL (RUNNING PRESS, 32 PP., $17.99; AGES 3 ?? 6), illustrated by Julia Patton. In this fantastical ode to the United States Postal Service, Berger posits that before email, actual snails were responsible for transporting physical letters to and fro. We meet four intrepid gastropods charged with bringing a love letter from a girl in Santa Monica to a boy in New York. At times the snails heave the letter aloft with great effort, each taking a corner; at others they ride it like a magic carpet, in cahoots with sparrows who carry it across a few states. Patton's layered images evoke the pleasures of paper. We see fragments of maps, envelopes and graph paper, postcards and stamps. Gauzy American landscapes - a red-rock desert, a rainbowed glade - are threaded with a dashed red line that tracks the snails' progress. And when the letter is delivered, the recipient isn't the only one who swoons; we see in a subtle cloud of hearts that two of our slimy couriers have fallen in love. The passion of the snails is nowhere mentioned in the text. The tale is hidden in the illustrations, a secret second story line for readers to discover on their eighth or 11th or umpteenth time through. "Doll-E 1.0" contains one, too; keep your eye on that dog. Further evidence that the best picture books are glorious mechanisms, well designed for the repeat reading young kids enjoy. The love story at the heart of BLUE RIDER (GROUNDWOOD, 32 PP., $17.99; AGES 3 TO 8), a sumptuous wordless tale written and illustrated by Geraldo Valerio, is between a young girl and a book. We find the girl living in an apartment in a cool blue city full of orderly rectangles and people bustling on the street, many lost in their headphones or screens. From the start, the use of color is so sophisticated you can almost hear it, as when the acidic blue "O" of a baby's mouth suggests a penetrating wail. On the sidewalk the girl spies a book. Back in her room, one image - a blue horse with a rainbow mane and a yellow tail, leaping over a field of marigolds under a sparkling starry sky - is so arresting it transforms the girl's vision. Suddenly her room and her city are alight with the bold colors of the horse's mane, and she's cast into a kaleidoscopic reverie: a field of bright blooms, a butterfly's wing, a dazzling abstract rectangular steed. We leave the girl beaming. An afternoon without technology - or, rather, with an old technology - has turned on a light switch in her mind. JULIA TURNER is the editor in chief of Slate.