Sometimes, you come across a book so captivating that it warrants a second look, and even a deeper dive. Today, we’re doing just that with Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic’s upcoming picture book, Touch the Sky. It’s not every day we dedicate this much attention, but this book truly deserves it.
Let’s break it down: first, we’ll explore the book itself in a detailed review. Then, we’ll get some insights directly from Stephanie in a bonus Q&A session.
So, settle in and prepare to discover a truly exceptional title:
“How do you like to go up in a swing, / Up in the air so blue? / Oh, I do think it is the pleasantest thing / Ever a child can do!”
Robert Louis Stevenson, The Swing
In the world of children’s literature, a fascinating duality exists. On one hand, a gifted author can breathe new life into a well-worn theme, presenting it in a fresh and compelling way. They can take the familiar and make it extraordinary for young readers. Conversely, some of the most impactful children’s books are those that tap into previously unexplored facets of childhood, capturing universal experiences that haven’t yet found their place on the page. Touch the Sky firmly plants itself in this latter category. If you were to ask a seasoned children’s librarian for the definitive picture book about swings, what would they recommend? Before encountering Lucianovic’s latest work, the board book edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Swing, illustrated by Julie Morstad, would likely have been my top suggestion. It’s a lovely book, even excellent, with its calm and peaceful rhythm mirroring the gentle sway of a swing. However, it misses the exhilarating thrill and the determined struggle of learning to pump. The pure, unadulterated joy and the challenge of mastering the swing are absent. For that, you absolutely need Touch the Sky. This book perfectly encapsulates a pivotal, often overlooked moment in childhood, destined to resonate deeply with both children and adults.
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Vern is a playground regular, and among all the equipment, the swings hold a special allure for him. He’s a swing enthusiast through and through. His usual swing repertoire involves flopping onto the seat belly-down or twisting the chains and letting go to spin until dizzy. The reason for his limited moves? Vern hasn’t yet cracked the code of pumping his legs. And without that skill, his swinging remains earthbound. Then, Gretchen, a girl from his neighborhood, offers Vern some guidance. What ensues isn’t an overnight success story. Vern faces frustration and the urge to quit, but he perseveres. Slowly, incrementally, the pieces start to click. It becomes a story of Vern, the swing, and the boundless sky.
Playgrounds are unique spaces, existing purely for children. They frequently appear in picture books, yet few playground-centric stories truly stick with you. Trying to recall memorable playground picture books, only The Swing and Ariel Bernstein’s charming You Go First, illustrated by Marc Rosenthal, immediately come to mind. It’s surprising that a place so central to childhood experiences is so underrepresented in children’s literature. Touch the Sky fills this gap beautifully.
Interestingly, parents are conspicuously absent from this narrative. Touch the Sky is a kid-centric zone. While we can infer that adults are present—after all, someone must have initially pushed Vern on the swing—they are strategically removed to maintain the emotional core of the story: Vern’s independent journey to master pumping. This absence works perfectly, allowing Vern’s accomplishment to feel entirely his own.
What are the ingredients of an exceptional picture book? First and foremost: outstanding writing. A tall order, indeed. If every aspiring picture book author possessed the ability to craft words that are both beautiful and truthful, reviewing would become a much more challenging task. There’s a moment in every truly great book, regardless of the target audience, when the reader falls in love. It might not be on the first page, or even the tenth, but when it happens, you become a staunch advocate for that book. For me, that moment in Touch the Sky arrived on page ten with the introduction of Gretchen. We learn that Vern knows her through her mom.
“Gretchen, stop licking your scab!”
“Gretchen, dig up your brother right now!”
“Gretchen – do NOT pet that cat with your cheese!”
This sequence instantly endears you to the book and firmly places you in “Team Gretchen.” You’d follow her anywhere. Creative writing instructors could use this passage as a masterclass in establishing instant connection with an audience.
But clever writing is only half the equation. Lucianovic also masterfully captures the essence of learning something difficult. Crucially, she avoids what we might call “The Elmo Effect.” Imagine a Sesame Street segment where Elmo tries to learn an instrument: he fails, tries again and fails, then suddenly succeeds! That’s the Elmo Effect: instant gratification learning. While charming for a short TV segment, it’s far from reality. Learning takes time and effort. Picture books, like those Sesame Street clips, are concise. Touch the Sky is a mere 32 pages, yet Lucianovic skillfully portrays Vern’s frustration (“Giving up felt easier than trying again”, “He could get off the swing now. Gretchen would never know he gave up”) and the sustained effort required for mastery. Even when Vern starts to get it, progress is gradual, not a sudden miracle. Competence grows at its own pace, and it’s beautifully depicted.
One day, we should perhaps begin reviews by discussing the artwork, rather than leaving it for the end. While today isn’t that day, it’s not due to a lack of appreciation for Chris Park’s illustrations. The publication details mention “mixed media,” a broad term offering little insight into Park’s process. However, what truly matters is how Park elevates what could have been a typical playground book into something visually stunning. His style evokes pastels and crayons, likely digitally rendered, but it’s his color palette that truly distinguishes the art. Vern’s hair, in particular, is remarkable—long, flowing, and rendered in shades of blues, purples, and pinks, a refreshing change from the usual boy character depictions. Gretchen’s hair seems to glow with internal pink and purple hues. Park’s dynamic angles and nuanced details enhance each page. Consider the low-angle shot of Vern swinging against the bright sun, his silhouette dark and compelling. Observe Vern’s body language when Gretchen first speaks to him, his feet drawing inwards with a mix of shyness and anticipation. There’s a captivating sequence where the background darkens, and Vern’s attempts become framed as windows or abstract shapes. What could have been ordinary, even formulaic, is transformed into something exceptional and magical through Park’s artistic finesse.
A good premise, fantastic art, and stellar writing are essential, but a truly great picture book needs an extra element: heart. Touch the Sky possesses this heart in a pivotal moment near the book’s conclusion. Vern, having finally learned to pump, is filled with the triumph of accomplishment. Now comes a crucial test of character. Many children (and adults) when mastering something new, might be tempted to flaunt their newfound skill. In an alternate version of this story, Vern might lord his pumping prowess over the child who still struggles. But not here. When another child comments on Vern’s skill, his immediate response is, “It feels hard until you get it, and then it’s not . . . Do you want to learn how?” We don’t hear the other child’s reply, but Park’s endpapers, filled with words like “PUMP”, “AGAIN”, “SKY”, “TUCK”, “TIP”, serve as the resounding answer.
So, yes, Touch the Sky is exceptional. It’s a brilliant example of elements harmonizing perfectly: humor and heart, stunning art and intelligent text, a familiar concept made fresh and relevant. Memorable writing elevates it further. Among the countless picture books released annually, many are perfectly adequate, even pleasant. Touch the Sky transcends mere adequacy. It’s better than good; it’s touched that elusive magic that elevates a book from good to truly great. Do a child a favor and share Touch the Sky with them as soon as possible. You’ll both be grateful you did.
On shelves May 7th.
Source: E-galley sent from publisher for review.
And now, let’s hear from Stephanie herself…
Betsy Bird: Stephanie! Wonderful to connect with you. And this book! Wow. It’s genuinely one of my top reads of the year. It’s surprising to realize, after reading countless picture books, that none have focused on learning to pump on a swing. I can guess your inspiration, but could you share the origin story of Touch the Sky?
Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic: Betsy! It’s always a pleasure to talk with you—your interview questions are always insightful!
I’m thrilled you feel so strongly about TOUCH THE SKY—and I wholeheartedly agree! It is remarkable that this subject hasn’t been explored in picture books before. I think it’s often perceived as a “small moment” in a child’s physical development. While the emotional impact is significant, it might not seem as “HUGE” to adult editors as milestones like diving or bike riding. (In fact, during the submission process, we encountered feedback like “not special enough to stand out,” which is surprising considering the lack of books on this very topic!)
Another reason might be the challenge of describing the physical mechanics of pumping in writing. As I discovered firsthand, articulating the body movements—the contortions, flexes, and crunches—needed for momentum is surprisingly difficult.
The idea itself came, as many of my book ideas do, from observing my own children during their “pumping phase.” It wasn’t that I’d forgotten my own struggles with it as a child; it was more that I hadn’t consciously thought about it as an adult until I was trying to teach my kids. My husband pointed out that it’s incredibly difficult to recall a time when you didn’t know something. Once you learn to pump, it’s hard to remember the initial struggle.
My youngest child took longer to grasp the coordination than his older brother, and I was trying—and failing—to explain it verbally and physically. He was frustrated, especially as his friends took the “it’s SO easy!” approach. Which, of course, it is, once you get it, but not before! This sparked memories of my own swing set experiences: the sense of freedom, daring leaps from the swing, the summer heat on the black rubber seats, even swinging with a sweetheart at dusk. The emotions tied to this seemingly simple childhood moment were rich and compelling. Whenever I recognize that depth of emotion in an iconic childhood experience, I feel compelled to capture it in writing, to share it with others.
BB: One aspect I particularly appreciated is how the book avoids the “Elmo Effect.” Vern doesn’t master pumping quickly. He tries, struggles, and slowly progresses. Success isn’t instant. How important was it for you to portray this realistic learning process?
SVWL: That was crucial. Learning to dive, ride a bike, or pump a swing doesn’t happen in a day. It requires time, effort, and involves genuine frustration and setbacks. I’ve always disliked books that trivialized difficult skills, making them seem effortlessly easy. As a child, they made me feel inadequate and misled. I never want to misrepresent these important experiences to children. I want to validate their complex feelings. Children can desire to learn to pump but also resist the effort if it doesn’t come easily. They experience shame, impatience, and frustration throughout the learning process, and it’s important to acknowledge those feelings.
BB: The line “Gretchen stop licking your scab” might be my favorite of the year! And the character names, Gretchen and Vern, are perfect. Why these names for this story?
SVWL: Beatrice Alemagna and I are on the same page when it comes to portraying the reality of childhood, scabs and all! Confession: that line is something I actually said to one of my children. Until my kids were around eight, I kept journals of their funny sayings and actions, including things I found myself saying to them. “Don’t pet that cat with your cheese” is another line lifted directly from real life and incorporated into the book.
As for the names, they are somewhat old-fashioned, aren’t they? I think that makes them stand out a bit. But the real reason is that they are named after my parents, who are both in their 80s. It amused me to place them in a story about kids in a park.
BB: Ah, I suspected a personal connection! Many readers will relate to the urge to give up and simply lie in the wood chips rather than persevere with something difficult. Depicting frustration effectively is challenging. How many drafts did Touch the Sky go through to get it just right?
SVWL: I often lose track of drafts because I tend to overwrite rather than save each version separately. However, Touch the Sky likely went through at least seven drafts before submission. My initial draft showed Vern’s frustration, but not the full extent of “lying-in-the-woodchips-giving-up” frustration. By the second draft, I expanded on that aspect. The idea that Gretchen wouldn’t even know if Vern quit emerged around the fifth draft, and that felt crucial to capturing the feeling of wanting to give up—the sense that no one is watching, so you could just walk away.
BB: How different is the final book from your very first draft? Were there elements you liked that had to be cut?
SVWL: It’s quite different from the first draft, and much stronger as a result. I rushed the ending in the first version and didn’t spend enough time on the physical learning process of pumping. I worried that focusing on that would slow the pacing and lack action.
Two lines I liked but ultimately removed were:
“Herb itched wood chips out of his shorts and tried again” and “Anastasia ran backwards until her tip toes were barely grasping the ground.”
I can’t recall exactly when or why they were cut, but it was likely to enhance brevity and flow once we began working with the illustrations. Art often allows for textual trimming. Also, the original character names, Herb and Anastasia, were changed because we felt they might be less accessible for read-alouds. But I still love “Herb” as a funny, slightly old-fashioned name for a child and hope to use it in another book.
But honestly, I wasn’t heartbroken about any changes. I had to review drafts just now to even remember them! I’ve overcome that early writing hurdle where “killing your darlings” feels emotionally wrenching.
BB: Whatever sacrifices you made to the Illustration Gods worked—getting paired with Chris Park is fantastic! Were you familiar with Chris’s work beforehand? What are your thoughts on the final book?
SVWL: Words fail me when describing Chris’s art. I wasn’t familiar with his work before, but when my team at Carolrhoda/Lerner suggested him, I was immediately enthusiastic and eager to see his interpretation of the story. As you can imagine, I was absolutely thrilled with the result.
One of the best aspects of working on Touch the Sky was the incredible team at Carolrhoda/Lerner Books. My editor, Carol Hinz, and the designer, Danielle Carnito, generously included me in every stage of the book’s creation from the start. As a text-only author, I don’t always have insight or input into the art and design process. In this case, I was given the opportunity to react to everything! Though, I don’t think my feedback was particularly helpful because my consistent reactions were simply: “I love this!” and “This is amazing, no notes!” But it was the truth. The final book fills me with such joy and wonder. I’ve never seen a picture book that looks quite like this, and I sincerely hope to collaborate with Chris on many more projects.
BB: You’re incredibly busy, but I must ask: what’s next for you? Any upcoming books we can look forward to?
SVWL: Ha! You’re clever with that “in tandem” phrasing! You probably know that my verse novel about a child navigating distance learning during the early pandemic days, HUMMINGBIRD SEASON, will be out by the time this Q&A is published. That book is deeply important to me. It’s another story where I want children to feel seen, to know that their pandemic experiences were valid and challenging. I also want to create space for discussion, especially as many adults quickly returned to “business as usual” as life shifted to a new normal. And for children too young to fully remember the pandemic, I hope HUMMINGBIRD SEASON serves as an emotional record of that time.
Looking ahead to 2025, I have an ADORABLE book about a zombie boy who befriends a baby brain from his parents’ brain farm, illustrated by the wonderful Laan Cham (Bloomsbury). And another book about a child’s anxiety during a school lockdown drill, illustrated by award-winning French-Canadian artist Gabrielle Grimard (Random House Kids). I also have a yet-to-be-announced picture book, my FIRST ever picture book attempt, which will finally be published ten years later!
Huge thanks to Stephanie for her thoughtful answers and to Lindsay Matvick and the Lerner team for coordinating this interview. Touch the Sky will be available May 7th in bookstores and libraries everywhere.
Filed under: Best Books, Best Books of 2024, Interviews, Review 2024, Reviews
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About Betsy Bird
Betsy Bird is the Collection Development Manager of the Evanston Public Library system and a former Materials Specialist for the New York Public Library. She has served on the Newbery committee, written for Horn Book, and enjoys discussing children’s literature. Her views are her own and do not represent EPL, SLJ, or any other organization. Follow her on Twitter: @fuseeight.
