There are two kinds of story time: the one where listeners’ heads drop sleepily onto your shoulders and the one that feels, refreshingly, like a table read for the theater of the absurd. The former is sweet and cozy. The latter sparks audience participation and requests for an encore. If you’re going for this vibe and in the mood to strut your stuff as a raconteur, start here.
The Gruffalo, by Julia Donaldson; illustrated by Axel Scheffler
Donaldson’s trusty dynamo is like a scoop of fine vanilla ice cream: enjoyable on its own, but dial up the extras and you have a hot fudge sundae (of sorts). Indeed, “The Gruffalo” boasts a buffet of crowd-pleasing features, including an uncomplicated rhyme scheme (wood/good, mouse/house), repeating lines (the better to inspire group participation) and a wide range of voices (mouse, fox, owl, snake and, yes, gruffalo). Suspense is just an added bonus from the team who brought us “Room on the Broom.”
Looking for a Jumbie, by Tracey Baptiste; illustrated by Amber Ren
What are jumbies? you might wonder. They’re creatures from Caribbean stories, akin to fairies or trolls, Baptiste tells us in her introduction. “Some live in the forest,” she writes. “Some live in the water. Some soar up into the sky.” In this fantastical story, a little girl named Naya sets out to meet some jumbies for herself. Conveniently for the person turning the pages, she crosses paths with a bevy of creatures, each with the potential for a different voice — high and squeaky, deep and growly, it’s your call. My personal favorite is a jumbie of the douen variety, known for its small stature, backward feet and big mouth. Imagine Dobby, of “Harry Potter” fame.
Roar-Choo!, by Charlotte Cheng; illustrated by Dan Santat
What happens when a dragon gets a cold? You’re about to find out, with the help of Santat’s delightfully googly-eyed characters and Cheng’s refreshingly simple story. This is the book to grab if you’re so tired you can’t string two syllables together. The text is sparse, but the sound effects — sneezes and roars — provide ample opportunity for entertainment and decompression, with minimal energy expended. Add enough oomph to your a-choos and your audience might chime in. Even better, slide your finger under recurring words and let beginning readers beat you to the punch.
Shy Willow, by Cat Min
The detail in this book! If you have time, you can linger over drawings within drawings — my favorites are the mini works of art hanging in the bunny Willow’s home (which is, adorably, a mailbox) — but you can also efficiently power through this tale about conquering fear and delivering a letter to the moon. “Shy Willow” includes fun-to-make noises — thumping, ripping, tearing — alongside text spaced in a way that conveniently cues different registers. For instance, as Willow falls “down, down, down,” the words slide to the bottom of the page. Odds are, your voice will follow.
Leonardo the Terrible Monster, by Mo Willems
Racing to school to be a mystery reader? For the uninitiated, this means showing up as a surprise (exciting) with zero input from your student about what would be appropriate/acceptable to read (bizarrely fraught, especially if your offspring are prone to mortification). Trust me, Leonardo is your go-to guy. Not only does Willems spin a clever yarn about a not-scary lunk of a monster, but he also tees up even the most bashful reader to be a hilariously entertaining performer. Words demanding emphasis appear in a different color; noises roll off the tongue (“Blaggle Blaggle!!”); and the payoff is an ALL-CAPS double-page spread of zaniness that’s sure to leave the toughest crowd in stitches.
There are two ways to tackle “Lilly.” The first is straightforward: Read through, start to finish, with zero grandstanding and you’ll still medal in the bedtime Olympics. (You’ve earned it, after 32 pages of text. Don’t forget to hydrate.) The second is the overachiever’s route, reading all the little “extras” sprinkled throughout the story. Broadcast Lilly’s thoughts in an adorable mouse voice. Give her peacenik dad a groovy hippie vibe. When Lilly apologizes to her teacher, Mr. Slinger, for rudeness, let your tone follow the downward spiral of “really reallys.” The only nonnegotiable is the note Mr. Slinger sends home with Lilly. I still quote it to my stressed-out teenager and weary young adults: “Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better.”