Game Design: How to Create Video and Tabletop Games, Start to Finish by Lewis Pulsipher has a subtitle that promises more than it can deliver.

The book gives you the impression that it would be a good way to build up a good game, even repeatedly quoting Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's famous quote about being done when there's nothing left to remove. Repeatedly.

It's clear from reading this book that Pulsipher is very opinionated about games. In fact, by his definition, most games aren't true games, but are rather puzzles or toys. While I am not a professional game designer (my most notable game was an escape room/hidden picture style game based on the Hardy Boys, which I made for a game jam), I strongly disagree with his definition that a game requires seemingly intelligent opposition, as it makes very few things real games. His casual denigration of games like Katamari Damacy, calling it a "toy", indicate to me that he doesn't understand certain games well enough to critique them.

Sure, he's a veteran board game designer. In fact, he designed a game called Britannia, which I had previously only heard of when scrolling through the list of games on the Fantasy Flight website. Based on the index of the book, this game is one of the most mentioned games in this book, alongside Civilization (every single iteration), Dungeons & Dragons, and Monopoly (which he hates, justifiably). He's certainly not shy in blowing his own horn and telling stories about his students in which he show more emerges as the benevolent hero saving their otherwise bland game.

In the book, he presents three pitches for video games. Granted, this book was published in 2012, but the three pitches were pitiful games even by those standards. The mental images they evoked were more the sort of games I would have played in 1992.

The rest of the book is a mish-mash of opinionated paragraphs, contradictions, outlines that should have been developed into their own chapters or sections, trashing on Millennials, and criticizing other games/developers/game development books (He seems particularly bothered that Salen & Zimmerman took about 80 pages to define what a game is). The book has plenty of diagrams to show certain concepts, but many of them are not actually in the book, but instead are available on his website. Likewise, a lot of the ones in the book are poorly formatted, with text spilling out of their corresponding bubbles. Further, there's a laughable glossary that feels like it devolves into an opinion about something instead of actually defining it (for example, his definition of AI doesn't actually say what it is, beyond "artificial intelligence", but rather that bad AI can make a game a worse experience).

In the end, the book is stodgy and dated (even by 2012 standards) and probably won't help you make games. It falls greatly short of the promise on the subtitle. The only thing I gained from reading it were that I should create a paper prototype of video games (something I had previously learned in a software requirements management course in college). Fortunately, he also recommended other books on game design (though he omits mentioning The Art of Game Design by Jesse Schell). I'll give these books a look to see if they're any better.

I would not recommend this book, as it's a bit like plucking pearls from muck just to try to find something worthwhile. show less

I liked it better when it was called "Coraline."

I had a feeling I knew precisely what I was getting when I got a copy of Space Cats: Making Enemies by Craig A. Price and Shayne Price. A story about cats, in space.

It was exactly that. Aside from the wonky AI-generated cover and the uncanny AI-generated audiobook narration, the story was exactly as it delivered: your typical cat vs. dog story, where cats are the good guys and dogs are the drooling, smelly bad guys.

If you have a little one who likes cats or animal stories, this may be up their alley. But that's pretty much the only audience I would recommend this book to. Though, I would recommend against the audiobook, as occasional "Get it off me!" said in monotone voice is more annoying than amusing.

I enjoy reading about religions, as I find that the different perspectives can tend to be quite interesting. That's one of the reasons I decided to read and review A Modern Heathens Guide to Norse Paganism by Quinby C. Larson. In it, she takes the reader through her own journey from the Abrahamic religions modern to Europeans and their decedents to the more ancient, albeit less documented, Norse Paganism that preceded Christianity in the North.

She chronicles not only the journey but the reason, and takes great pains to further explain how Norse Paganism has been incorrectly coopted by people using it to further divisive practices such as racism and racial supremacy. While this last part wasn't necessary for a reader like me, I understood its inclusion, as most people coming to this book with no other basis of understanding of Norse Paganism might only associate it with the idiots who decry racial purity and taint the usage of some pretty interesting symbols through their idiocy.

As someone who spends a good deal learning about different religions, I have to say that this book, like many others, reveals that all religions when practiced in an enlightened way can be a thing that lifts people up versus tearing people down. All major religions have some principle that can be mapped to the Golden Rule, and as such, all religions, from a social standard, can be applied equally to benefit society. Larson, however, did bring up some differences between Christianity and Norse show more Paganism, notably the teaching of Christianity for its members to be meek, while Norse Paganism teaches its members to not just sit down and take injustice. The wide range of ways that people follow their religions, whether Christian, Pagan, or otherwise, reveals that not everybody follows ever dictum of their religion (look no further than the television on a given Sunday morning to see the contradiction of Christ's message on wealth as lived by the pastors of notable megachurches), and that every person follows their religion is their own imperfect way. Ultimately, then, the decision to practice a religion is a truly personal one, and in many ways is a mirror of the self, casting images of gods into the sky.

All in all, I thought it was an interesting book. If you're curious about Norse Paganism, it would be a comfortable place to start and provides recommended further reading to lead you on your way. show less

You're probably heard of Penn Jillette before. He's the Penn in Penn & Teller, the most popular magic duo in the world. You've probably seen their show, Fool Us, in which other magicians attempt to fool Penn & Teller with magic tricks (though, usually it doesn't matter if they fool P&T, as the main point of the show is to entertain the audience with magic).

Jillette, an outspoken representative of every group in which he's a member, has written a book that started as an idea for a television show. In Random, the "hero", Bobby Ingersoll, facing a pending death due to an outstanding, unpaid loan his no-good father has taken out, must come up with 2.5 million bucks or face a very unpleasant, albeit short, existence at the hand of murderous goons. He gets a lucky break, and another lucky break, and with the help of some dice, gets enough cash to not only pay off the loan, but also be financially secure, even for an idiot like Bobby Ingersoll.

The writing is reminiscent of the likes of Kurt Vonnegut, and occasionally you can hear Jillette speaking his mind directly into your ear. However, the book itself may not be for you, even if you like Vonnegut or P&T's magic. The language can get quite profane, and is likely to offend anybody who holds anything sacred. Also, Bobby is a strange character, even when not being ruled by Chance and Random.

All in all, if you're hard to offend, you might like this book (though the times in the prose where Jillette gets preachy can get a little show more tiresome). If you have a modicum of sensibilities, however, you might want to just stick to Fool Us.

My wife put my enjoyment of the novel it succinctly: "don't quit your night job." Your mileage may vary. show less

Overrated and underwhelming, To Sleep in a Sea of Stars shows that Eragon author Christopher Paolini has not matured as a writer since penning his way to a claim to fame at the age of 15. Almost 20 years later, the only thing that has changed is that now his characters swear. Like, a lot.

To Sleep in a Sea of Stars is a bland 800+ page story that, like Paolini's other novels, borrows heavily from things that came before. It's part Alien/Prometheus, part Venom (you know, the Spider-Man villain), part Witchblade, part StarCraft, and all Mary Sue.

Kira is a xenobiologist who while xenobiologisting discovers an alien artifact that gives her an alien symbiote that, at first, kills everybody she cares about, but also basically makes her a space goddess, so she's able to get over that pretty quickly, only occasionally delving into survivor guilt when the narrative needs that trusty plot handbrake to keep from getting to the end faster. She teams up with wave after wave of redshirts tracking down plot coupons and having pointless conversations that only act as filler before the next wave of cryosleep en route across the galaxy only to find out that most of the plot coupons have already expired. The big bad ultimately deflates like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with a not-so-slow leak, and you never are given any reason to care about the characters in the book (and maybe sometimes find yourself rooting for the giant space squid, if only to make the story end sooner).

In addition show more to being a slough of despondency to get through, the character of Kira is written with all the grace and sensitivity of somebody who lacks the grace and sensitivity to write believable female characters and is too afraid to ask anybody if she seems believable. Like many men writing women, Kira comes off as more the parody or a fantasy of a woman than a woman herself.

Additionally, Paolini takes great effort to explain the science that he researched in writing the book. Such great effort that even simple ideas come off as needlessly complex. I'm reminded of that quote often attributed to Einstein: "If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it." Paolini stated that all his friends and family were telling him as he wrote this book that it wasn't working. Then he claims to have made a breakthrough. He was wrong. It still isn't working.

If you liked his other books, you might like this. If you like bland, uninspired sci-fi, you might also like this. Otherwise, you may be briefly amused by the subtle references to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or Red Dwarf, but in the end, like the attempts at humor in this book, it all falls flat.

Not recommended. show less

A promising STEM book about cats and robots totally derailed by half-baked political ideology.

Required reading for any college-age student (and beyond).

Leonard (My Life as a Cat) by Carlie Sorosiak is a story about what it means to be human, especially from an alien cat's perspective.

When an immortal creature of pure reason is taking his once-in-forever trip to be human for a brief while, a trip that helps inform his hive-mind people about other worlds, things take a turn for the worse when, instead of coming to Earth as a Ron Swanson knock-off park ranger, he accidentally assumes the role of a cat. After being rescued by a human girl who doesn't exactly fit in among her peers, they two work together to discover their truest selves.

After discovering he's an alien, and that he has to be at his designated pick-up spot at a certain date and time, otherwise he'll be stuck in his mortal shell, the two hatch a plot to get Leonard halfway across the country without letting out that he's an alien.

Ultimately, the story was enjoyable. It had moments of humor and moments of sadness. Some of the book's moments came a little heavy-handed, and the end was predictable, but if you can get past all that, the story itself will leave you with more positive feelings than negative.

I did feel, however, that some of the cultural references would go over the heads of many children, particularly the bits about I Love Lucy and Jimmy Buffet, and some of the situations within the book were a little unbelievable (even accounting for the suspended disbelief of an alien cat). Also, the author gets at least one basic cat fact wrong (which, I've show more noticed, so does the cat-centric Warriors series): Cats do, in fact, have webbed toes suitable for swimming.

If you're looking for something schmaltzy about cats, especially something suitable for a younger reader, then feel free to give this book a shot. show less

The sequel nobody asked for and fewer people wanted.

What you might come to expect if House of Leaves were the backstory to Little Shop of Horrors.

Hipster Narnia.

I first discovered Kevin Crossley-Holland through his book on Norse Myths. It was then that I started appreciating his ability to take such stories and make them accessible to people who don't want to learn olde languages or dialects to understand what the heck is going on when the cow Audumla licks the world into existence.

When I saw that he had a new collection of folktales, I had to pick it up. I've loved folk tales since I was a young boy, reading the Aesop fables and the stories of Paul Bunyan and Pecos Bill, and cultivating that appreciation into a broader spectrum of tales, legends, and fables from many different cultures. I was not disappointed by Between Worlds.

Presented here are a handful of stories collected from Britain and Ireland, some of which were familiar (such as Tom Tit Tot, a version of Rumpelstiltskin; Mossycloak, a version of Cinderella; and even a selkie story). Some, though, were entirely new to me, and every one was a delight.

Crossley-Holland takes the original story (or in some cases, stories) and adapts them to make them readable and understandable to a modern audience. He successfully captures that fairy-tale setting with each story, giving it that other feeling while at the same time, nestling it among familiar roots, much like a child who might very well be a changeling, but might also be your own true heir.

If you like me are a fan of the folktale and fairy story, I highly recommend this collection of stories. They're sure to not disappoint. show more Meanwhile, I'm going to track down more of Crossley-Holland's books so I can linger in his worlds a little while longer. show less

My wife an I are home school parents in search of THE PERFECT HISTORY RESOURCE. That is, we want a history book that does not wear one bias or another. We don't want one saying that all Europeans are saints, but we also don't want one saying that all Europeans are monsters. We just want one that deals with what happened, and doesn't try to justify it as good or bad, but rather as the cause of some later effect, which we're smart enough to understand as "good", "bad" or "a little bit of both."

That being said, I had such high hopes for Inquiry-Based Lessons in World History, Volume 1: Early Humans to Global Expansion by Jana Kirchner and Andrew McMichael. This book, published by educational resource publisher Prufrock Press, seemed, on its label, a fairly open History resource. However, we stepped away from it disappointed. Our disappointment was not in the book, per se, but rather in our expectations for such a book not being fulfilled.

Obviously, don't come to this book expecting it to teach you all about history. It's not that kind of book. It's more a curriculum than a text; that is, it's a book that guides you through the teaching of the subjects, rather than a book that teaches you about the subjects.

However, it's not exactly a curriculum book. It's more an additional resource, or a teaching aid. You, as a teacher, already have a text and a plan to teach that text over the school year. This book provides engaging activities to get the students more involved in the show more history.

While it was shocking to see large swaths of history stepped over, and some of the interesting bits glossed over (I could have read an entire book on Ancient Sumeria and their myths), I don't think it's a fault with this book, as this book aligns to Common Core. It's more, I suppose, a fault in Common Core.

In the end, I can recommend this book to a teacher looking for ways to make history more engaging to a junior high/high school crowd. The nature of the book doesn't fit much with most homeschooling (aside from the fact that it treats all religions with similar import, something that might not mesh with your typical homeschooling parents), as it seems to work best with larger groups of students working together to answer questions about history.

In the end, I think our history curriculum unicorn is still out there, waiting for us to discover it dancing in the meadows of time. Until then, we'll just keep reading a variety of sources to get the best, least biased take on how we got where we are. It's not so bad, if you ask me. show less

Narwhal and Jelly are back in the fourth volume of their wonderful series by Ben Clanton. They've become friends, they've become super heroes, and they've even discovered peanut butter, but now comes the biggest challenge yet: Jealousy.

When Otty the Otter becomes Narwhal's new friend, Jelly feels like he's losing his best friend to a newcomer, and tries to cope with the feelings in different ways. Narwhal, being Narwhal, is completely oblivious to this. In the end, they realize their miscommunication and all is resolved, giving Jelly a new friend too.

I've been getting these books since the first volume and have been enjoying reading them with my daughter every year (she's seven now). She especially loves the animal facts. I personally enjoy the goofy dad-jokes (but I'm a little partial).

If you have a little one in your life that loves animals, this and the other Narwhal and Jelly books would be right up their alley.

In How to Give Your Cat a Bath: in Five Easy Steps, Nicola Winstanley presents five (or so) simple steps that any cat owner could adequately accomplish in one or fewer.

This little story, enjoyable for both children and adults, presents a scenario: it's time to give the cat a bath. Unfortunately, the cat, Mr. Flea, does not fancy the idea of getting a bath, extending five simple steps in to dozens of complicated steps, including finding where the cat is hiding.

In the end, we discover that giving cats baths is much simpler than it seems, but a whole lot less interactive.

I recommend this book for your little ones, especially if they like cats (and your cats might appreciate the lesson in not actually giving them baths).

In Fergus and Zeke at the Science Fair, written by Kate Messner, illustrated by Heather Ross, the eponymous classroom mice decide to participate in the school's science fair, but not simply as maze-runners. In the end, they find a way to take part in an experiment, and be part of another.

It's a cute, simple story of two mice and how they constructively solve problems together. Hopefully, it would make young readers interested in pursuing their own science experiments.

My first impression when receiving Accounting QuickStart Guide by Josh Bauerle was pretty low, as the book had been intentionally mutilated by the organization who sent it to me. Not only did the inside cover have "ARC NOT FOR RESALE" written, but the title page had been sloppily ripped out, and the UPC on the back had been carefully cut out. Perhaps the next QuickStart guide should be about the First Sale Doctrine...

Beyond that, though, the book itself was full of very useful accounting procedures. As someone who writes accounting software for a living (and moonlights as an account manager), I enjoyed reading this book, as it filled in the gaps in my accounting knowledge. There were some places in which I thought that the information presented was fairly obvious, but I'm not sure if that's just because it was obvious to me.

In the end, my decision to not resell the book was not driven by the sender's attempts to defer it, but rather the usefulness it will provide me as a handy reference as I navigate the implementation of tricky accounting topics. And then, when I don't need it anymore, I'll resell it.

My first impression of Fox and Raccoon by Lesley-Anne Green was that it looked cute. Green is best known for making cute needled felting sculptures, and has extended this skill to a book for children. In her book, she creates entire scenes that look realistic, but have obviously been scaled down to look more natural for her animal characters. To that degree, Green is an artist.

However, the story itself was somewhat lacking in the level of creativity one could expect from Green's sculptures. The premise is, Fox and Raccoon are friends and neighbors, and one day, Fox is busy getting ready for something. Raccoon is so eager to help that he completely forgets that today is his birthday. In the end, he discovers that Fox has been preparing for a surprise party all day, and Raccoon has been inadvertently helping. A cute story, but nothing original.

While the writing wasn't terrible (and I've read some terribly written children's stories), I feel that this book would have been much improved as a book without words, where the narrative is told entirely in the pictures. For this book, I believe it would have worked well.

However, my opinion as a jaded adult probably doesn't matter. What matters for kids' books is what kids think of them. To that, I'll defer to my daughter, who read, and reread the book, and then spent several minutes looking at the pictures. "What did you think of it?" I asked her. "Good," she said. "It has a cat." "Two, actually,"I told her. And then she looked for show more the second cat. show less

I liked it better when it was called King's Quest III.

In the third volume of Ben Clanton's children's graphic novel series Narwhal and Jelly, Narwhal learns the importance of trying new things. In this case, he discovers peanut butter. However, Narwhal does not also learn moderation, and shortly after changing his name it Peanut Butter and consuming all the peanut butter in the ocean, he soon grows to be the size of a peanut.

It's a cute little story, though it would have been better, considering the target demographic, if it had actually addressed the theme of moderation. Nevertheless, it's what you'd expect from a Narwhal and Jelly book: some silly adventures, some quick facts about sea life, and the further adventures of of a comic within a comic about a superhero waffle and his sidekick strawberry.

If you liked the first two, you're sure to enjoy this one. I wouldn't recommend starting here, though. Hopefully we'll see even more silly adventures from Clanton in the future, as my young reader certainly loves getting these books when they come out.

It's often said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting different results.

When I read Dune: House Atreides by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, I was disappointed by a book that could in no way, shape, or form, even begin to slake the thirst that Frank Herbert's Dune books created. Brian and KJA gave us what you would expect from them: expository text that is at times insulting to the reader, stuffed to the gills with flowery prose (so you don't notice the smell), and an acute case of thesaurusitis.

So, I must have been insane, at least, temporarily, when I thought that House Harkonnen would be different. Were I the authors of this book, I would have followed that statement with a "It wasn't," because that's just what you can come to expect from the son of a great writer and a professional fan fiction author.

The only redeeming quality of this book is that you don't actually have to pay attention to what you're reading when you're reading. Any guns of Chekhov's that are seeded on page 10 don't need to be noticed by the reader, because before it's fired, you'll get reminded of its presence and told its significance, and why you should care.

In a few more years, I may give another non-Frank Dune book a shot, but in my sampling of the crap that these two jokers produced and are still producing (and surprisingly, people are still buying) there is no point in reading these books. The synopses of these books are better written, show more and cut out most of the fluffy fat that you can come to expect from these two "authors."

Highly unrecommended. show less

Dog Night at the Story Zoo by Dan Bar-el, illustrated by Vicki Nerino, is a children's graphic novel that delves into one of the things our furry friends do when everybody's gone to bed: they gather at the local zoo and tell stories, Moth-style.

In this book, we are told four tales a dogs and their attempts to find connection. The stories are funny, but at the same time, touching. While the subject matter may be too old for some children, I could see many appreciating it for the speculative nature of animals having a secret life. However, as an adult, I appreciated it for the heartfelt stories as told by dogs.

My biggest complaint was that some times the illustrations would be too non-Euclidean, and that proved distracting.

That aside, this one is definitely worth a read, especially if you have young ones interested in dogs. Meanwhile, I'm waiting for the one about cats.

In There, There, by Tim Beiser, illustrated by Bill Slavin, we are presented with an ill-tempered rabbit, a somewhat passive bear, and a rainy day. Having had enough of the rabbit's tantrums, the bear teaches it a lesson in gratitude.

While the story itself is quaint and the message good, I feel that it could get lost either in the choppy poetry of the writing, or in the grotesqueness of the illustration. The poetry made it a jarring read, while the illustrations (including that of an earthworm) were at times stomach-turning.

This one was not for me, or my kid.

I had trouble reading this book at first. However, that's because as soon as my daughter saw it, she would barely let me read it myself. Fortunately, after she went to bed, I was able to actually read it, and I enjoyed it. Clanton returns with a new volume chronicling the adventures of a narwhal and his pal, a jelly fish. This time, though, they take on the role of super heroes; but not in the way you might expect.

This book has cute illustrations, lovable characters, quaint stories and wonderful sea creature facts. The bit about the mimic octopus itself was great.

If you have a little one who loves animals and wants to learn more about those that live in the sea (amid some silliness for good measure), I highly recommend this book as well as its predecessor.

In If You Happen to Have a Dinosaur by Linda Bailey, illustrated by Colin Jack, we are presented with a juxtaposition of the small town simple life and dinosaurs. Each page presents all the useful (and some not-so-useful) ways one can enlist a dinosaur for, usually to solve relatively pedestrian problems.

The illustrations within this book are definitely the reason to take this book home. Colin Jack steals the show with his delightful blend of prehistoric and retro-life (I haven't seen a television antenna for longer than I'd like to remember).

If your little one likes dinosaurs, then this is definitely a book to catch their interest. It's also not that bad a read for the kid at heart. I recommend it.

Count Your Chickens, by Jo Ellen Bogart, illustrated by Lori Joy Smith, is a quaint children's book that follows a narrative of a world of anthropomorphic chickens (and two mice, apparently) attending a county fair. Along the way, several opportunities arise to count said chickens (including a quiz in the back). The words, a poem simple enough for my four-year-old to follow without having it read to her first, are matched with chickens, each one having their own personality. While the poem may not be the most eloquently written, and the illustrations may be a little crude, the end result is a charming little book ideal for young children. In the end, my daughter enjoyed it, and your child may as well.

Solutions for Cold Feet and Other Little Problems by Carey Sookocheff presents a sort of story of a girl and her dog. I say "sort of story", as the narrative is mostly implied amid the descriptions of the titular solutions. The dog is mischievous, and at times, makes things worse for the girl, but the girl cannot stay mad at the dog, as he takes care of her as much as she does him.

In the end, it was a cute story. However, I feel that the story was incomplete. The first two problems had a continuous narrative, and the last three did as well (well, sort of). The outlier to me was the third problem (involving a melting ice cream cone), which did not seem to follow or be followed by the other problems. Whether this was because of editing or oversight, I'm not sure. It did leave me with a little bit of disappointment, however.

In the end, though, you'll find a touching story of companionship accompanied by cute illustrations and a heartfelt ending. The story is one you can discern without even reading a word, so it's suitable even for young readers who have not yet mastered those glyphs we call letters. Quite enjoyable, and enough stuff hidden in plain sight to make the book worth a few reads by the adult on his or her own.

Just let it die already. Seriously, guys.

This is yet another post-Herbert Dune story, and it's just as terrible as the rest. If you took the total number of Dune stories written, you would find that Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson had produced (much like a cow produces methane) far more Dune books than Herbert. If you divided the total number of post-Herbert books by the number of authors who are currently ruining it, you'd find that individually, these guys have written more Dune books than Herbert himself.

This latest chapter might as well be called "Dune: We Had An Idea for a Story and Thought We Could Sell It if We Slapped Dune in Front of It." It reads much like something you'd see at the start of a writers workshop, or possibly something you'd find nestled in the archives of your favorite fanfiction site.

Brian Herbert, who has yet to write a story that can actually interest me (including, the least interesting Eternal Champion story I've ever read), teams up once again with Kevin J. Anderson, whose Star Wars books are thankfully no longer part of the canon, to present a story that reads more like 8th grade book report about a Dune story than an actual Dune story.

It's filled with gems like, "The lean Mentat stood motionless, like a statue." and even this little dialogue:


“I don’t care about the Emperor,” Venport said.

“Yes, you do, sir, because your current status as an outlaw adversely affects your business dealings.”

Venport frowned, but he could not deny show more the logic.


kthxinfo.

It also takes every moment it can to remind you that Manford is missing his body below the waist. Did I mention he doesn't have any legs? Oh, and he's got no legs, too.

The prose is so clunky that it's a wonder this got past the editor's desk. I had to force myself to read it to the end. And in the end, I was like, "meh."

The plot itself seemed silly. The fact that Suk doctors are trying to cure a plague with a vaccine seemed odd to me (unless the Suk doctors know something I don't about the viability of post-exposure vaccination). And, what the heck, is the story anti-vax or something?

If you're going to read something with "Dune" on the cover, at least make sure "Frank" is somewhere there too. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time. show less

In Narhwal: Unicorn of the Sea by Ben Clanton, we meet two lovable characters: Narwhal and Jellyfish. Together, the embark on silly adventures all while teaching children fun facts about aquatic life.

I gave this book to my daughter and she devoured it instantly. She read through it a few times and asked me all about narwhals and jellyfish, being particularly amused by the fact that a group of jellyfish are called a "smack" (not to be confused, according to the book, with a "snack"). Granted, I think she may be just outside the target demographic (she's 4), she loved the book, and showed me her favorite parts over the next few days, as well as asked me about a million more questions about narwhals and jellyfish that weren't answered in the book.

In the end, this book definitely landed in my household. Though it had simple drawings and at times a silly plot, it's definitely a cute book to get kids interested in the fabled "unicorn of the sea."