Toys come home Being the early experiences of an intelligent stingray, a brave buffalo, and a brand-new someone called Plastic

Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* This charming title serves as the retroactive prequel to the creators' previous, well received early chapter books exploring the hidden lives of a child's playthings: Toys Go Out (2006) and Toy Dance Party (2008). Its six gentle chapters introduce stuffed animal StingRay, showing how she first came to join Girl's family and began to grow into a wise, plush ringleader. The omniscient narrator uses wonderful language, full of rich words and sounds, in descriptions of each adventure, from a pleasurable birthday party to a horrifying encounter with a nasty cat to perhaps the most charming account of puking ever typed an episode that underscores the importance of close pals. The tone is comforting lighter than Dance Party while avoiding any preciousness or self-consciousness present in many titles with similar plots and themes. The empathetic characters, gentle drama, and occasional full-page black-and-white drawings create a timeless story of adventure and friendship to treasure aloud or independently. Wholly satisfying, this may well leave readers expecting to see the Velveteen Rabbit peeking in the bedroom window and smiling approvingly.--Medlar, Andrew Copyright 2010 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

---

Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 1-3-Third in the "Toys Go Out" series, this title (Schwartz + Wade, 2011) serves as a prequel to explain how the Girl's beloved toys, Stingray, Lumphy, and Plastic meet. In the timeless literary construct of talking toys, humans are unaware of the secret life of their playthings. Apparently, they watch TV to improve their vocabulary, can bounce up to turn on the light switch, and just make up stuff to try to impress others. Narrated from Stingray's point of view, he explains how he came to the Girl as a birthday gift and why he is opposed by a crotchety plush walrus who knows everything. Bothered by the lack of hospitality, Stingray attempts to run away but falls down many stairs into the scary cellar. Sarah Barnett reads the tale in a childlike voice and makes a feeble attempt at sound effects. There are inconsistencies, such as that Stingray knows what a slingshot is, but not a ball. Some toys speak, while others do not. The tone of the narrative is somewhat insipid. The highlight of the recording is Lumphy's brave defense of the Girl's bedroom against an overactive, kamikaze kitten, using a tuna casserole and a spray bottle. Imaginative, yet contrived, this is acceptable as an additional purchase.-Lonna Pierce, MacArthur and Thomas Jefferson Elementary Schools, Binghamton, NY (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

---

Review by Kirkus Book Review

Who could imagine the introduction of a self-conscious stingray could lead to such great things?How toys StingRay, Lumpy and Plastic learn to share their Girl's living quarters (and her affection) forms the plot of this humorous, bittersweet precursor toToys Go Out(2006)and Toy Dance Party(2008). Owning her role as the "Actual Day of Birth Present," StingRay fights for her place among a group of peculiar playthings, which are all bossed about by pompous walrus Bobby Dot. StingRay saves sleepy Sheep (sans its ear) from thistles, and Lumpy outwits an aggressive feline houseguest. Bobby Dot's unintentional sacrifice comforts his beloved child but brings about a fate of Velveteen Rabbit proportionsa dryer, sneakers and dry-cleanonly stuffed animal clearly do not mix. Life's brutal realities are spotlighted with a gleaming authenticity ("Because now StingRay knows something she really and truly did not know before. A life can be over"). Character-driven episodes unfold in six fully realized chapters; Zelinsky's softly shaded pencil drawings showcase pivotal moments, revealing each individual idiosyncrasy (narcoleptic Sheep included) during this eventful year. A cozy self-contained ending depicts the security found in hearth and homeor, in this case, the cool comfort only the linen-closet floor (and a snuggle with your closest friends) can provide.This enjoyable trio deserves its rightful place away from the confines of any toy chest.(Fantasy. 6-9)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

---

CHAPTER ONE In Which There Is Nowhere Nice to Sleep StingRay has missed the birthday party. She didn't mean to. It was her first party, first party ever in the world to be invited to--and she missed it. She didn't even know she was missing it. She didn't know anything about the party until now, when it is already over. She can tell the people are disappointed in her. Here is what happened: StingRay woke up. She had never been awake before, but she could hear a scissor scoring the top of a cardboard box above her head. A box from a toy company. StingRay was squashed in that box, inside yet another box wrapped in shiny blue paper and tied with pink ribbon. She woke with a feeling that she'd been waiting, asleep, for a very long time. She dreamed while she slept: the same dream over and over, about a wooden crate filled with other plush stingrays, packed with flippers touching flippers, tummies touching tails. It was a mellow, cozy dream. The stingrays were still. The sounds were muffled. A dream of something like a family, StingRay thinks. Though she isn't entirely sure what a family is. The word just came to her and she used it, inside her head. I am an intelligent stingray, she thinks to herself. To just have a word come to me and to know it's the right word. In fact, now that I consider it, I know a lot of things! For instance, I know that I'm a stingray, and that a stingray is an extra-special kind of fish, and that blue is the very best color anything can possibly be, and that people are people, and kids are baby people, and that a kid would probably like to play with me someday. I know all this stuff without being told. It's practically like magic, the knowledge I have. I hope the rest of the world isn't too jealous of me. The scissor scores the cardboard, and the wrapping is ripped off. Now StingRay comes out of her crispy nest of tissue paper and is pulled into the bright light of what she knows, just knows somehow, is a kitchen. White cabinets. A jar of spoons and spatulas. Finger paintings stuck to the fridge with magnets. A kid smiles down at her. StingRay smiles back. "She likes me!" says the Girl. "She smiled at me!" "That's a nice pretend." "I'm not pretending. She really did smile," the Girl insists. The mommy kisses the Girl on her head. "Sorry it didn't come in time for your party. There was a shipping delay, Grandpa said when he called." (A party? thinks StingRay. Was there a party?) "Still, today is your actual birthday," the mommy goes on. "The day you were born. So it's nice to have a present on this day as well, isn't it?" (I missed a party! thinks StingRay. A party I was supposed to go to!) "Her name is StingRay," the Girl announces. "Oh?" The mommy crinkles her nose. "Don't you want to call her a real name? Like Sophia or Samantha?" "StingRay." "Or maybe an animal name, like you gave Bobby Dot?" (Who is Bobby Dot? wonders StingRay.) "You could call her Sweetie Pie," continues the mommy. "Or Sugar Puff. How about Sugar Puff, hmm?" "Just StingRay," says the Girl. "I like StingRay." . . . . . Upstairs, the Girl's bedroom has a high bed with fluffy pillows and a soft patchwork quilt. Atop the windowsill is a collection of birthday cards from her friends. There are shelves filled with books and games, puzzles and art supplies. A large ash-blue rocking horse resides in the corner. On the bed lie a plump stuffed walrus and a woolly sheep on wheels. The sheep looks old. Under the bookcase, StingRay can see several sets of tiny, sparkling eyes. She can feel them watching her. She can feel the eyes of the walrus, the sheep, and the rocking horse, too. But none of them is moving. StingRay doesn't move, either. The house feels big. Too big. There don't seem to be any other stingrays here with whom to nestle. She longs for the comfort of her cozy dream. The Girl sets StingRay on a low shelf and trots out of the room. She has a playdate. When the family bangs the front door behind them and the toys can hear the rumble of the car starting in the driveway, the walrus galumphs himself to the edge of the bed, then hurls himself off. He executes a spectacular flip with a twist--and lands right side up. Whomp! Excerpted from Toys Come Home: Being the Early Experiences of an Intelligent Stingray, a Brave Buffalo, and a Brand-New Someone Called Plastic by Emily Jenkins All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

---