Newbery/Caldecott 2025: Summer Prediction Edition

Okay! This is good! I’m feeling a little more confident about this year. After discussing it with my fellow librarians, I think we all have come to the agreement that in 2024 it was the picture books that came barrelling straight out of the gate. It’s taken the middle grade a little longer to find its footing, but at this point things are beginning to settle down. We all have our favorites. I’ll confess that I’m still feeling more certain on the Caldecott side of things than the Newbery (there are really only two Newbery potential titles that I’m 100% confident about) but hey, we’re only halfway through the year. The fall books are only now getting sent to reviewers. After the American Library Association Annual conference, we’ll have a lot more titles to consider and discuss, so take that into consideration as well.

As a special bonus today, I’ll be including some Coretta Scott King and Batchelder predictions for kicks. Nothing too long. Just a couple titles I think you should keep an eye on.

On with the show!

2025 Caldecott Predictions

Being Home by Traci Sorrell, ill. Michaela Goade

Okay! This book appeared on my Spring Prediction list as well, and I stand by it firmly. In fact, since I put it into that post, I had a chance to review it on this site. And the nice thing about doing a deep dive review is that you get to see all the little details you might have missed with just a casual read. For example, it wasn’t until I was reviewing the book that I noticed what Goade does in this book with color. It’s really remarkable, watching her use pink as a connecting thread between the heroine’s life in the city and her family in the country. Should this book win a Caldecott, we’ll have two Award winners in a row that use the color pink prominently on their pages. I can think of worse things.

Home in a Lunchbox by Cherry Mo

You know what Caldecott committees love? Fresh new faces. You know who’s new? Cherry Mo. What we have here is her debut picture book and it’s a doozy. If you’re like myself, you’re probably looking at this cover and figuring you’ve seen this book before, in one fashion or another. But see, the thing that I like so much about children’s literature is that you can take a theme that’s been done a hundred times and all it takes it a different perspective and a mess of talent to make you look at that theme like it’s brand new. That’s Cherry Mo. This book is wordless, and part of what I like so much about it is how the author/artist uses different artistic styles to tap directly into the heart of different emotional moments. Just as the heroine is transported every time she eats her food from home, you the reader are transported right alongside her. If you haven’t read this one yet, do yourself a favor and seek it you. You’ll see what I mean.

Joyful Song: A Naming Story by Lesléa Newman, ill. Susan Gal

What does it take to win a Caldecott? My current working theory is that there’s some magic ratio that has to occur between the art and the heart. You need some serious artistic skills to make a claim for the top children’s book award for illustration in the States, right? But if you don’t have the story to back it up, you can have all the mad skills you like but it may not get you anywhere. Now obviously there are books that defy this theory (I’m looking at you, Graphic Alphabet, you soulless creature you) but for the most part it tends to stand up. So on today’s list you’ve Being Home, which taps into the emotion of joy, Home in a Lunchbox which begins to pry away at your tear ducts, and now Joyful Song, which finishes what the other two started. It’s Jewish. It’s Queer. It’s inclusive and touching and, yes, you’ll tear up reading it. Plus the art by Susan Gal really can’t be beat.

Jump for Joy by Karen Gray Ruelle, ill. Hadley Hooper

I’ve a tendency to enjoy picture books that incorporate pre-existing art, and I always kind of worry that, at least when it comes to the Caldecott, such art curses the books from winning. In this case you’ve mixed collaged art from the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries alongside vibrant paints. Yet the Caldecott clearly states that all the art in a book being considered should be original to the artist. Now think about winners of the Caldecott. Has anyone ever successfully used art from other artists and won? Just last year I would have loved to have seen Barbara McClintock win for her Caldecott biography, but she used his art in the book alongside her own. Did that mean she couldn’t win? That’s something the committee will have to decide about Ruelle/Hooper’s book this year. My hope is that they’ll realize that it’s far more than the sum of its parts, but who knows? Only time will tell.

My Daddy Is a Cowboy by Stephanie Seales, ill. C.G. Esperanza

Though Mr. Esperanza’s done a couple picture books in the past (and each and every last one of them an eye-popper) he’s never gotten any Caldecott love. This brings us to another Caldecott theory I harbor. I call it the Right Text theory. Ever wonder why it took Kadir Nelson so long to get a Caldecott? He needed that beautiful Kwame Alexander text, of course. And let’s consider the Pumphrey brothers, who won last year when they were paired with Jason Reynolds. The right text with the right art is what yields a winner. Here, we’ve Esperanza finally paired with the book that it feels like we’ve been waiting for all these years. Great writing inside and art that touches your heart. Keep one eye firmly fixed on this title in the coming months. I’ve warned you.

Touch the Sky by Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic, ill. Chris Park

Chris Park differs from the aforementioned Cherry Mo since this isn’t his first book, but he’s still new enough (and Caldecott-bereft enough) to qualify as a fresh face. The other day I was listening to the Broadway channel on Sirius Radio and the hosts were discussing why some people win Tonys and others don’t. One of them speculated that the role they’ve played has a lot to do with it. There’s a similar situation with picture books, where if a book is flashy it could potentially grab more attention. I’d like to argue, though, that even more impressive is a book like this one. It’s set almost entirely on a swing set in a park. Do you know how static Touch the Sky could have been with a lesser artist? Yet Park gives each page such energy, whether it’s frustrated anger or pure sweeping joy. I maintain that this is truly one of the most impressive books of the year.

Two Together by Brendan Wenzel

Wenzel’s book is a bit different from the others I’ve listed here, wouldn’t you say? With the possible exception of Home in a Lunchbox, these books don’t tend to change their artistic styles mid-stream. Which is to say, the style you encounter at the beginning of the book is consistent throughout. I suppose that’s what makes Wenzel’s book so very interesting. The styles change throughout, but why? Is there a reason why the dog and cat, by the time they’re home, have become more three-dimensional and realistic? Could be excellent fodder for a discussion with kids, don’t you think?

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2025 Newbery Predictions

Black Girl You Are Atlas by Renée Watson, ill. Ekua Holmes

The other day a co-worker of mine was talking to a book committee we both serve on and telling the other committee members how bad they’re going to feel when this book wins a Newbery and they passed up a chance to read it early. I ascribe to her theory. Just for kicks, here’s what I wrote up for the other committee members:

A robust, wonderful, incredible poetry collection for older readers recounting both Renée Watson’s own life and the lives of other Black girls and women everywhere. I don’t usually read works of poetry and get hit by the “Newbery contender” stick very often, but I guess today’s the day. This book is incredible. Definitely has some For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/ When the Rainbow Is Enuf vibes. I particularly appreciated that there’s humor mixed in with the pretty serious subject matter. This isn’t just an empty rah-rah book. It’s packed full of brilliant pieces. Clearly, Ms. Watson needs to be churning out more poetry in the future. Extra Bonus: Love how short it is! We don’t need a tome to be touched.

The Enigma Girls: How Ten Teenagers Broke Ciphers, Kept Secrets, and Helped Win World War II by Candace Fleming

I conducted an idle online search to clarify for myself whether Candy has won a Newbery Medal yet. Inexplicably she hasn’t, but I did find this utterly charming fact on her website: “Candace Fleming awarded herself the Newbery Medal in fifth grade after scraping the gold sticker off the class copy of The Witch of Blackbird Pond and pasting it onto her first novel—a ten-page, ten-chapter mystery called Who Done It? She’s been collecting awards (her own, not Elizabeth George Speare’s) ever since.” I love that. As for this book, I’m admittedly still in the process of reading it, but I can already state that it’s the rare middle grade nonfiction book for kids that has adults lining up to read it as well (thank you, New York Times review). It would be supremely gratifying to see her win one of these days. And if she were to win, this could easily be the book to do it.

Mid Air by Alicia D. Williams

When I interviewed Alicia D. Williams on this site about this book, I took into account the fact that she’s already a Newbery Honor winner. Having won for Genesis Begins Again, I couldn’t help but wonder if the award’s propensity for striking the same authors multiple times might happen to Ms. Williams as well. When I touched on this, she had this to say:

“Mid-Air came from a need to prove to myself that I could write another book. After the success and wonderful reception of my debut novel, Genesis Begins Again, I struggled with fear. It took several years to come to terms that my fear of what others might think or say about my work was stifling my creativity. Once I acknowledged this feeling and owned it, I was able to move forward. Now the idea of this story is another thing. This came out of grief. Grief and the need to explore why boys can’t be gentle and sensitive beings instead of boxed into the perception that emotions are weak.”

I think that’s something that deserves a closer look.

Not Quite a Ghost by Anne Ursu

Welp, it’s Anne Ursu’s year and we’re just living in it. Bout bloody time too. Some of us have been patiently waiting for a Newbery committee to give her her due for roundabout fourteen years here (Breadcrumbs wuz robbed). The beauty of her latest is that all you have to do is just read that first chapter and you’ll understand what I mean about this being her year. Go on. Find yourself a copy of this book. Read just that chapter. Then sit back and stare at the book a little while. If you’re like me, try to contemplate just how a writer would even go about writing a chapter that good. It’s intimidating. If I were Anne I’d be worried about ever writing another first chapter again. How could it ever compare? The one in this book is brilliant! And, I am happy to report, the rest of the book matches it perfectly. This is the one to beat, folks.

The Wrong Way Home by Kate O’Shaughnessy

I wasn’t certain if I was going to mention this book today but then I stopped over at Heavy Medals to see their latest Mock Newbery list and way way way at the bottom they had this title. That merely says to me that not enough people have yet read this book. It’s playing this incredible little dance between what the heroine believes, what she refuses to accept, and what is clearly the truth. Essentially this is a story about a girl and her mom fleeing a cult, where the kid desperately wants to go back. THAT is an interesting premise right there, and O’Shaughnessy has to do some serious work to make her main character of Fern both sympathetic and someone you want to simultaneously root for and against all at once.

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Coretta Scott King 2025

Go Forth and Tell: The Life of Augusta Baker, Librarian and Master Storyteller by Breanna J. McDaniel, ill. April Harrison

Librarians love books about librarians, but this one is legitimately good stuff. There’s something unique about the experience of reading a book about someone you’ve heard about in the past but never had a clear picture of before. When I worked for New York Public Library the name “Augusta Baker” was legendary. She’d retired long before my day (I started in 2003 and she passed away in 1998) but her name was everywhere. We all knew her to be the first Black coordinator of children’s services for New York Public Library. What they didn’t tell us was the sheer amount of good things she got behind. Fortunately we have Breanna J. McDaniel to put all the pieces together, and April Harrison to bring them to life. I mean just look at the cover of this book. This is what I wish we saw a bit more of in our children’s book biographies. A little more creativity and visual metaphors at work. In fact, Harrison is pulling out all the stops on this book. I feel like she was given the go ahead to really lean into her natural inclinations towards gorgeous mixed media. Additionally, if you’ve ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I’d really like to see what April Harrison’s version of Ernie and Bert looked like” your somewhat bizarre wishes have been granted. As a former NYPL employee I also geeked out over a map that appears at one point in the book showing a map of NYC and distinguishing between NYPL, Brooklyn Public Library, and Queens Public Library (I won’t be that person who checks to see if the branches seen are accurate to the time period, though I suspect that they are). And I would be amiss in not hat tipping to McDaniel’s form of storytelling as well. This book covers all its bases but doesn’t load you down with details you don’t need. It’s quick, succinct, and smart. Just like Augusta Baker herself, I suppose. 

Outspoken Paul Robeson, Ahead of His Time: A One-Man Show by Carole Boston Weatherford, ill. Eric Velasquez

From the moment he was born to the day he died, take this deep dive into the remarkable life of one of America’s great heroes. Activist, actor, athlete, and scholar, there never was, nor will there ever be, anyone quite like Paul Robeson. I swear, you never know what you’re going to get with a Carole Boston Weatherford biography, do you? This is one helluva book, and sort of turns on its head my usual statement about how picture book biographies don’t have to be birth to death. It’s like Weatherford read that and said, “Oh yeah? I am going to show you EVERY aspect of this man’s life!!” I have literally never seen a picture book bio goes this deep into anyone, but if any subject deserved it then it would have to be Paul Robeson. I learned a ton about him here, and the author isn’t afraid to show the controversies that dogged his life either. Also didn’t expect to see an image of someone getting electroshock therapy in a mental institution on my 2024 bingo card, but here we are. I think it’s fair to say that you have never read a picture book biography like this. Just be prepared to carve out a little time in your day if you want to read it.

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Batchelder Award 2025

The Book of Whys by Gianna Rodari, ill. JooHee Yoon, translated by Antony Shugaar [Translation – Italian]

Lest we get too far ahead of ourselves, I would like to say that though I have mentally placed this book ostensibly in the “Poetry” section, you could probably justify putting it into anything from middle grade fiction to nonfiction and get away with it equally well. It’s one of those books that crosses genres so frequently that you’re in dire danger of getting a headache. Rodari is a big name in the Italian children’s book scene, but here in the States his moniker will mostly be met with blank stares. This particular book is a series of questions from kids that he would answer in his newspaper column (reminding me of another newspaper serial the Italians loved – Pinocchio). But the true star of this show is translator Antony Shugaar who has the impossible task of having to not only translate into rhyme for many of these poems, but to make the jokes work (even the puns!) too. He can only do so much with the questions that are SO Italian they squeak (example: “Why do people say: ‘It’s like shampooing a donkey’s head’?”) but given what he has to work with the man has gone to Herculean lengths. I assure you.

The Cat Way by Sara Lundberg, translated by B.J. Woodstein [Translation – Swedish]

Usually when the human and the cat go walking, the human decides what they should do and where they should go. When things flip, it’s the human who begins to see things in a whole new way. First off, it’s very satisfying to see a book where the main character knows how to hold a cat correctly on the cover. I also am intrigued by the fact that this is the rare picture book where an adult is the main character. There’s a funny surreal quality to this story, while at the same time the emotions are so real to me. It’s both telling its own story straight, while also feeling like it’s talking about a lot more than just the relationship between a woman and her cat. The art is fantastic, I love the gatefold (a rare three-page gatefold, no less!) and the simplicity of the telling. GREAT work by translator B.J. Woodstein, by the way! It really gets the tone of the book down JUST right! 

Okay, folks, what did I miss? What should I read? What do you love? Tell me more, tell me more!

Filed under: Newbery / Caldecott Predictions