WHAT'S IN THE BOX? Find out in these seven clever stories by eight incredible comics creators!Under the Floorboards by Emily CarrollA box, a doll...but it's no ordinary plaything!Spring Cleaning by Dave Roman & Raina TelgemeierThere really is mystery in the back of a messy closet!The Keeper's Treasure by Jason CaffoeA treasure inside a labyrinth inside a temple which way to turn now?The Butter Thief by Rad SechristThere's more than one way to trap a house spirit!The Soldier's Daughter by Stuart LivingstonThere are mysteries of life and death--and beyond.Whatzit by Johane MatteOh no, not that box! Watch out, little alien!The Escape Option by Kazu KibuishiA strange, meteoric box and an otherworldly choice.Open the book! Let the adventure begin!

    It's an EPIC family tradition and he's dreamed up an UNFORGETTABLE party! Only, after several disasters involving a flattened Chihuahua and a curse from the tooth fairy, it's been CANCELLED. But Tom won't give up. With the help of his friends (and a pig painted like a zebra), Tom decides to throw himself the party he deserves. What could possibly go wrong?

    So when they look out their window and see a little house they never knew was there, of course they must visit (especially when their parents tell them not to!). Going through the boiler room, they’re amazed to find to a secret backyard with a garden, a porch, and a statue of a cat. And they’re even more amazed when that cat starts to talk. . . . Welcome to the world of Mrs. Noodlekugel, where felines converse and serve cookies and tea, vision-impaired mice join the party (but may put crumbs up their noses), and children in search of funny adventures are drawn by the warm smell of gingerbread and the promise of magical surprises.

    But when his world suddenly interlocks with an eccentric, bookish girl and a bitter old man who runs a toy booth in the station, Hugo's undercover life, and his most precious secret, are put in jeopardy. A cryptic drawing, a treasured notebook, a stolen key, a mechanical man, and a hidden message from Hugo's dead father form the backbone of this intricate, tender, and spellbinding mystery.

    Bross is a Horse. He is 7 years old.But Bross doesn't want to be a Horse. He would prefer to be a SEAHORSE.He wants to have all the advantages that SeaHorses have. So, let’s join him on his dream. I’m sure that you already know that seahorses live in the water, but do you know that they are a type of fish? And that the male seahorse is the only male creature that can be pregnant? Come and join the fun while we learn some more interesting facts about seahorses in this great kids’ book.

    Shed a little humor on the subject by reading your child "Poop! There it is!".  Kids will giggle and laugh along with this silly book while learning the basics of potty training.

    

         With this latest book in the SCAD Creative Essentials series from the esteemed Savannah College of Art and Design, comics writer and instructor Mark Kneece gives aspiring comic book writers the essential tools they need to write scripts for sequential art with confidence and success. He provides a practical set of guidelines favored by many comic book publishers and uses a unique trial and error approach to show would-be scribes the potential pitfalls they might encounter when seeking a career in comics writing. Supported by examples of scripting from SCAD's students, faculty, and alumni,The Art of Comic Book Writing strips away the mysteries of this popular artform and provides real-world advice and easy-to-follow examples for those looking to write for the comics medium.

    (Oxford Reading Tree: Stage 8: Storybooks)

    Lake's can come alive in any believer who will receive.

    His life is transformed by a brief glimpse of the beautiful country -- at the back of the north wind. This Victorian fairy tale has enchanted readers for more than a hundred years, and combines a Dickensian regard for the working class of mid-19th-century England with the invention of an ethereal landscape.

    True, it was always happening that one of us would be singled out at any moment, freakishly, and without regard to his own preferences, to wrestle with the inflections of some idiotic language long rightly dead; while another, from some fancied artistic tendency which always failed to justify itself, might be told off without warning to hammer out scales and exercises, and to bedew the senseless keys with tears of weariness or of revolt. But in subjects common to either sex, and held to be necessary even for him whose ambition soared no higher than to crack a whip in a circus-ring-in geography, for instance, arithmetic, or the weary doings of kings and queens-each would have scorned to excel. And, indeed, whatever our individual gifts, a general dogged determination to shirk and to evade kept us all at much the same dead level, -a level of ignorance tempered by insubordination.Fortunately there existed a wide range of subjects, of healthier tone than those already enumerated, in which we were free to choose for ourselves, and which we would have scorned to consider education; and in these we freely followed each his own particular line, often attaining an amount of special knowledge which struck our ignorant elders as simply uncanny. For Edward, the uniforms, accoutrements, colours, and mottoes of the regiments composing the British Army had a special glamour. In the matter of facings he was simply faultless; among chevrons, badges, medals, and stars, he moved familiarly; he even knew the names of most of the colonels in command; and he would squander sunny hours prone on the lawn, heedless of challenge from bird or beast, poring over a tattered Army List. My own accomplishment was of another character-took, as it seemed to me, a wider and a more untrammelled range. Dragoons might have swaggered in Lincoln green, riflemen might have donned sporrans over tartan trews, without exciting notice or comment from me. But did you seek precise information as to the fauna of the American continent, then you had come to the right shop. Where and why the bison "wallowed"; how beaver were to be trapped and wild turkeys stalked; the grizzly and how to handle him, and the pretty pressing ways of the constrictor, -in fine, the haunts and the habits of all that burrowed, strutted, roared, or wriggled between the Atlantic and the Pacific, -all this knowledge I took for my province. By the others my equipment was fully recognised. Supposing a book with a bear-hunt in it made its way into the house, and the atmosphere was electric with excitement; still, it was necessary that I should first decide whether the slot had been properly described and properly followed up, ere the work could be stamped with full approval. A writer might have won fame throughout the civilised globe for his trappers and his realistic backwoods, and all went for nothing. If his pemmican were not properly compounded I damned his achievement, and it was heard no more