In Don"t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, a persistent pigeon asks, pleads, cajoles, wheedles, connives, negotiates, demands and uses emotional blackmail in attempts to get behind the wheel. Pigeon will not take no for an answer, and puts the reader on the spot, using an escalating series of tactics. Perfectly paced, every line and blank space in the deceptively simple illustrations are essential. PreS. In his winning debut, Willems finds the preschooler in a pigeon: a cajoling, tantrum-throwing, irresistible bird. 'I"ve got to leave for a little while,' says a uniformed bus driver as he strolls off the opening pages. 'I thought he"d never leave,' says the big-eyed pigeon as he marches onto the next spread and begins his campaign to drive the bus. His tactics, addressed to an unseen audience, are many: he reasons ('I tell you what: I"ll just steer') he whines ('I never get to do anything!') he"s creative ('Let"s play "Drive the Bus"! I"ll go first') he bargains ('C"mon! Just once around the block!'). Finally he erupts in a feather-flying tantrum, followed by a drooping sulk that ends only when a truck arrives, and new road fantasies begin. Librarians may struggle with the endpapers, which contain important story content, but the design is refreshingly minimal, focusing always on the pigeon he"s the only image on nearly every earth-toned spread. Willems is a professional animator, and each page has the feel of a perfectly frozen frame of cartoon footage--action, remarkable expression, and wild humor captured with just a few lines. Preschoolers will howl over the pigeon"s dramatics, even as they recognize that he wheedles, blows up, and yearns to be powerful just like they do. Gillian Engberg - Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved