Guardians of Childhood has 13 entries in the series. Academy Award winner William Joyce imagines the origins of the icons of our childhoods—Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Jack Frost, and more—in this beautifully. William Joyce: Guardian of Childhood at Joslyn Art Museum favor, and The Guardians of Childhood book series which explores mythical.
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The Guardians of Childhood is a series of children's picture books and novels and the inspiration for DreamWorks' Rise of the Guardians adaptation. The books . William Joyce's book series, The Guardians of Childhood, imagines the origins of the icons of childhood--The Man in the Moon, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny. These chapter books are related to the picture book series The Guardians of aracer.mobi the website for the series! Nicholas St. North and the Battle.
Fiction has two uses. And it forces you to learn new words, to think new thoughts, to keep going. To discover that reading per se is pleasurable. And reading is key. There were noises made briefly, a few years ago, about the idea that we were living in a post-literate world, in which the ability to make sense out of written words was somehow redundant, but those days are gone: words are more important than they ever were: we navigate the world with words, and as the world slips onto the web, we need to follow, to communicate and to comprehend what we are reading.
People who cannot understand each other cannot exchange ideas, cannot communicate, and translation programs only go so far. The simplest way to make sure that we raise literate children is to teach them to read, and to show them that reading is a pleasurable activity. And that means, at its simplest, finding books that they enjoy, giving them access to those books, and letting them read them. Comics have been decried as fostering illiteracy. No such thing as a bad writer There are no bad authors for children, that children like and want to read and seek out, because every child is different.
They can find the stories they need to, and they bring themselves to stories. This is the first time the child has encountered it. Do not discourage children from reading because you feel they are reading the wrong thing. Fiction you do not like is a route to other books you may prefer. And not everyone has the same taste as you. We need our children to get onto the reading ladder: anything that they enjoy reading will move them up, rung by rung, into literacy.
And the second thing fiction does is to build empathy. When you watch TV or see a film, you are looking at things happening to other people. Prose fiction is something you build up from 26 letters and a handful of punctuation marks, and you, and you alone, using your imagination, create a world and people it and look out through other eyes. You get to feel things, visit places and worlds you would never otherwise know.
You learn that everyone else out there is a me, as well. Empathy is a tool for building people into groups, for allowing us to function as more than self-obsessed individuals.
Things can be different. I was in China in , at the first party-approved science fiction and fantasy convention in Chinese history. And at one point I took a top official aside and asked him Why? SF had been disapproved of for a long time. What had changed? The Chinese were brilliant at making things if other people brought them the plans.
But they did not innovate and they did not invent. They did not imagine. So they sent a delegation to the US, to Apple, to Microsoft, to Google, and they asked the people there who were inventing the future about themselves. And they found that all of them had read science fiction when they were boys or girls.
Fiction can show you a different world. Discontent is a good thing: discontented people can modify and improve their worlds, leave them better, leave them different. And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with and books are real places, make no mistake about that ; and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison.
Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real. As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers. And to give them nowhere to read those books. I was lucky. I had an excellent local library growing up. They were good librarians. They liked books and they liked the books being read.
They taught me how to order books from other libraries on inter-library loans. They had no snobbery about anything I read. They just seemed to like that there was this wide-eyed little boy who loved to read, and would talk to me about the books I was reading, they would find me other books in a series, they would help.
They treated me as another reader — nothing less or more — which meant they treated me with respect. I was not used to being treated with respect as an eight-year-old. But libraries are about freedom. Freedom to read, freedom of ideas, freedom of communication. They are about education which is not a process that finishes the day we leave school or university , about entertainment, about making safe spaces, and about access to information.
I worry that here in the 21st century people misunderstand what libraries are and the purpose of them. If you perceive a library as a shelf of books, it may seem antiquated or outdated in a world in which most, but not all, books in print exist digitally. But that is to miss the point fundamentally.
I think it has to do with nature of information. Information has value, and the right information has enormous value.
For all of human history, we have lived in a time of information scarcity, and having the needed information was always important, and always worth something: when to plant crops, where to find things, maps and histories and stories — they were always good for a meal and company. Information was a valuable thing, and those who had it or could obtain it could charge for that service.
According to Eric Schmidt of Google, every two days now the human race creates as much information as we did from the dawn of civilisation until The challenge becomes, not finding that scarce plant growing in the desert, but finding a specific plant growing in a jungle.
We are going to need help navigating that information to find the thing we actually need. Photograph: Alamy Libraries are places that people go to for information. Books are only the tip of the information iceberg: they are there, and libraries can provide you freely and legally with books. More children are borrowing books from libraries than ever before — books of all kinds: paper and digital and audio. But libraries are also, for example, places that people, who may not have computers, who may not have internet connections, can go online without paying anything: hugely important when the way you find out about jobs, apply for jobs or apply for benefits is increasingly migrating exclusively online.
Librarians can help these people navigate that world. I do not believe that all books will or should migrate onto screens: as Douglas Adams once pointed out to me, more than 20 years before the Kindle turned up, a physical book is like a shark. Sharks are old: there were sharks in the ocean before the dinosaurs. And the reason there are still sharks around is that sharks are better at being sharks than anything else is.
Physical books are tough, hard to destroy, bath-resistant, solar-operated, feel good in your hand: they are good at being books, and there will always be a place for them.
They belong in libraries, just as libraries have already become places you can go to get access to ebooks, and audiobooks and DVDs and web content. Plus, receive recommendations for your next Book Club read.
Morris Lessmore , which is also his Academy Award—winning short film, to name a few. He lives in Shreveport, Louisiana. Tell us what you like, so we can send you books you'll love. Sign up and get a free eBook! Illustrated by William Joyce. Book 5 of The Guardians of Childhood. Trade Paperback eBook Enhanced eBook. Price may vary by retailer.
Add to Cart Add to Cart. About The Book. And for the last few decades or so, he had spent that day in his favorite place: A thousand people, maybe more, walked past it daily and had done so for many years, but not one of them knew that Jackson Overland Frost was very often living inside it. This tree was much older than the park it stood in and was even older than the city of New York itself. It was a sapling when the city was still called New Amsterdam and there were more Native Americans than settlers living in the swampy forests of Manhattan Island.
By this Christmas Eve , millions of people lived within shouting distance of this noble oak, but its secrets were still more absolute than they had been when flintlocks or bows and arrows were the order of the day. A heavy snow was falling over all of the East.
It muffled the sounds of the city, though New York was already quieting down. People had finished shopping and were heading to their apartments and penthouses and homes. Jack, however, could feel the thrum of excitement from the children.
Sleep would be difficult for them. It was, after all, Christmas Eve. A busy night for Sandman, he thought. There was a tomahawk from a chief of the Algonquians. The jacket that George Washington had worn the night he crossed the Delaware was hanging on a hat rack that had belonged to Teddy Roosevelt.
Jack was readying to meet up with the other Guardians when he felt the dull, worrying ache in his left hand. He wanted to ignore it. He knew Nicholas St. North would already be grumping about his being late. Jack Frost! The fair-weather Guardian! North would playfully gripe. Comes and goes when he pleasies! Aster Bunnymund would correct. Go lay an egg, General Rabbit Bunny, North would retort, and they would begin to amiably argue.
Jack could imagine it exactly. He grabbed his staff, Twiner, and prepared to leave, but then paused as another even sharper pain seared through his hand.
He looked at his palm, at the curious scar etched across it. He turned back to a cabinet, well hidden, where he kept his daggers.
There were several similar daggers in this secret cabinet. All of them were made from large, sharp, single diamonds, and each gemstone had been formed from the tears of someone Jack had loved. As far back as his earliest days as Nightlight, Jack had possessed the ability to turn sorrow into a weapon.