This is an enchanting example of reality meeting imagination. Colourful and quirky, McKimmie’s illustrations spill across the pages in an eclectic mix of paintings, drawings, collages, finger-paintings, messy colouring-in, hand-lettered text, and squiggles. He convincingly conveys a child’s imaginative flourish, individual viewpoint, and humorous exuberance.

Sonya Hartnett takes a more serious approach in Come Down, Cat! (Viking, $24.95 hb, 36 pp, 9780670074754), in which she explores the lengths to which people will go in order to help a friend. Hartnett’s perfectly paced and crafted text tells the story of Nicholas, who tries in vain to lure his cat down from the roof before night falls. Finally, he gives up and goes to bed, imagining all the things that might frighten his independent pet. However, when rain begins to fall, the peripatetic puss has a change of heart, and Nicholas shows how brave he is.

The story is sensitively illustrated by Lucia Masciullo, who brings a European fairytale sensibility to her depiction of Nicholas, his house, and the scary creatures of the night. Her colours are suitably dark and mysterious, with predominant greyish blues and muted reds. The two-storey turreted house is an enchanting amalgam of traditional cottage and haunted castle. The wayward Siamese cat, perfectly portrayed, looks suitably put out and embarrassed when the rain comes. There is a happy ending to this ultimately reassuring tale.

The Carousel, by Ursula Dubosarsky (Viking, $24.95 hb, 36 pp, 9780670074624), is a thoughtful exploration of friendship. Dubosarsky’s rhyming text captures the rhythmic movement of a carousel in this tale of a young girl who makes a connection with the horse she is riding, sensing that within its wooden exterior there is a wild horse yearning to be free.

Rather than presenting the gaudy colours of a traditional merry-go-round, illustrator Walter Di Qual creates impressionistic images in a muted palette of blues, whites, pinks, and oranges, which echo the dream-like quality of Dubosarsky’s text. Variations in perspective and viewpoint, as well as painterly patterning and textures, create visual interest and a strong sense of movement. This atmospheric book brings both the carousel and its steeds to life.

In concise prose, Graeme Base’s The Jewel Fish of Karnak (Viking, $29.95 hb, 36 pp, 9780670074679) tells the tale of two somewhat inept friends who find themselves in a pickle in Ancient Egypt. This is another of Base’s signature picture-puzzle books, and it features all the elements that we have come to expect from him: high production values, sumptuous design, stunning imagery, luminous artwork, enchanting anthropomorphised animals. However, what it lacks is any new direction for this undoubtedly talented author–illustrator.

Base tells the story of two hapless thieves – Jackal and Ibis. Caught stealing trinkets in the local market, they are given a second chance by the elegant Cat Pharaoh. They are sent on a quest to retrieve the pharaoh’s magical Jewel Fish of Karnak, which has been stolen by the imposing Crocodile Prince. There are two caveats: the friends must not steal anything else from the prince, and they must not get the Jewel Fish wet.

Of course, somewhat predictably, these two rather comical characters fail miserably, and the reader must help to find the fish, using clues embedded in the broken hieroglyphic tablets at the bottom of each double-page spread and the ‘ancient mechanism’ engineered into the back of the book. An added bonus is the information about Ancient Egypt on the inside of the dust jacket –
something that will no doubt pose a challenge for librarians. This ornately designed book will doubtless be embraced by Base’s legion of fans.

Waiting for Later (Walker, $24.95 hb, 32 pp, 9781921720055),by Tina Matthews, captures the frustrations of being the youngest child in the family. The other members of Nancy’s family are caught up in their own daily tasks: working, baking, building, washing, mowing. Sick of waiting for them to find time to play with her, lonely Nancy climbs a tree. There she discovers that you can find friends anywhere, and that sometimes you just have to make your own ‘later’.

Using linocut printing effects and strong, dark colours, as well as charming silhouettes on the text pages, the old-fashioned illustrations reveal just what the very 1950s family members are up to. This beautifully conceptualised and presented book gets to the heart of coping with being a child in a busy family.

Family and friendship also feature in the delectably funny Prudence Wants a Pet (Scholastic, $24.99 hb, 32 pp, 9781741699654), by Cathleen Daly and Stephen Michael King. Prudence is nothing if not persistent. When her parents tell her she can’t have a pet, she adopts a branch, then a twig, then an old shoe, then her baby brother, then a car tyre, and finally ‘sea buddies’. When they all fail her, Prudence goes to live in the cupboard. It is at this point that her parents finally reassess the situation. This is a story about a childish obsession that gets deliciously out of hand. There are moments of pathos, moments of high drama, and frequent humour in this hoot of a book.

Daly’s ironic, matter-of-fact, almost staccato text is beautifully offset by King’s minimalist, loose-lined illustrations. Featuring a longer than usual landscape format and retro colours of purple and orange, the cartoon-style illustrations abound with visual humour. They are highly expressive and perfectly suit the wacky text. This cheeky cautionary tale for parents, told from a child’s perspective, is a total delight, although perhaps a tad too long.

Squish Rabbit (UQP, $19.95 hb, 32 pp, 9780702239250), by Katherine Battersby, also explores the overwhelming need for friendship, as it charts the life of a cute little white rabbit for whom nothing goes right. In desperation, Squish sews himself a friend and then tries playing with a tree but when even this goes wrong, he throws a tantrum. This has unexpected results and, through a brave act, Squish finally finds a friend.

The text is short and succinct, and the design and artwork in the book are simple and engaging. The cushioned cover is suitably squishy, the collage elements colourful and inviting, and little Squish and his squirrel, although simply rendered in thick black outlines, full of expression and movement. This is a charming tale for the very young, though some may question its message that throwing tantrums can have positive repercussions.

Master wordsmith Margaret Wild’s Vampyre (Walker, $29.95 hb, 32 pp, 9781921529221) is a dramatic and confronting picture book for older readers.

It charts a young man’s attempts to choose his own destiny, despite his family’s determination to make him conform, a theme that has also been recently explored in Libby Gleeson’s I am Thomas (2011). Remembering the delights of his childhood spent roaming the forests of the night, he yearns for a chance not to be despised and reviled by the wider world because of what he is. Through cathartic and often harrowing processes, and against his family’s wishes, the young man finally succeeds.

Andrew Yeo’s illustrations are darkly lyrical. In monochromatic greys and blues, he creates the night-time Gothic world of the vampires, complete with howling gargoyles, crag-like castles, ghostly trees, and imposing scenery. His figures are expressionistically rendered, and his monumental landscapes linger in the mind. With its haunting text and evocative imagery, this allegory about finding a place in the sun is beautifully produced and executed. Using a personal drama, Wild puts a different spin on the ever-popular vampire myth, while showcasing the versatility of the picture book genre.