Books like Cat Nap
By Brian Lies
For the kid who turns every nap into an adventure and every wall into a doorway, this book makes a simple cat-and-mouse chase feel like stepping through a museum's most magical exhibit. Dreamy, hushed, and visually dazzling — equal parts cozy nap and wide-eyed wonder.
Three children find a bag of chalk at a rainy playground and discover that whatever they draw with it springs to life right off the pavement.
A boy falls asleep holding a book and drifts into a wordless dream world where chess pieces come alive, a dragon appears, and landscapes shift from canyons into cities before his eyes.
A collection of poems imagines a curious inn run by poet William Blake, where dragons, angels, and a Man in the Moon all check in for the night.
A journey through a string of impossible moments — a swing that soars past treetops, a bike path made of falling leaves, balloons that turn a gray sky postcard-perfect — where the everyday world quietly becomes something else entirely.
A young boy sets off on a moonlit walk armed with only an oversize purple crayon, drawing his own path through woods, seas, and dragons before finding his way safely back to bed.
One ordinary Tuesday evening, a pond full of frogs suddenly rises into the air on their lily pads and drifts off to explore the sleeping town nearby.
A white shape drifts across page after page of blue sky, looking like a rabbit, a bird, an ice-cream cone, and more — until a final reveal answers what it really is.
An alphabet journey where each letter unfolds into a densely packed illustration, from Armored Armadillos Avoiding an Angry Alligator to Horrible Hairy Hogs Hurrying Homewards, hiding dozens of matching objects to hunt for.
A rhyming picture book moves through the many shades of green — forest green, lime green, firefly green, sea green — using die-cut pages that turn one green into another before your eyes.
A boy longs to catch the rainbow he spots outside his window, and imagines all the wonderful ways he could play with one of his own.
