This Book Is Not for You by Howard Pearlstein

Hey, Story Seekers!

Disappointing news.

This book is not for you.

No monsters. No aliens. No ninjas. Nothing gross, nothing silly, nothing cute. Nothing of interest whatsoever.

Readit?

"There's a monster behind him."

Ignore that.

"And an alien."

You aren't helping.

"And the dog sees everything."

Fine.

We're exploring This Book Is Not for You: A Picture Book Without Any Ninjas, Zombies, or Aliens, written by Howard Pearlstein and illustrated by Susanna Covelli.

Book Breakdown

The cover is already lying to you, which is a promising start.

The narrator is nowhere on it. What you get instead is a tentacle, a three-eyed monster with pink claws, a handful of ninja stars and a rocket ship, all crowding in around a title that insists none of this is for you.

And down at the bottom, the only character actually facing the reader: a small gray terrier.

Remember the dog.

Inside, our narrator is a grumpy older gentleman with a considerable mustache, and he has something to tell you. This book isn't for kids, because it contains none of the things kids like.

The opening is the best writing in the book:

Are you a kid?
Are you reading this book?
If so, drop it like a hot potato.
Seriously, skipper.
This book is not for you.

He keeps going. Nothing funny. Nothing gross. No cute animals doing silly things. No monsters, no aliens, no zombies, no ninjas. At one point he dismisses you as "one of those whippersnappers who likes cute animals doing silly things."

He's completely sincere. That's what makes it work.

There's just the one problem.

The pictures are calling him a liar.

Every time he announces what isn't in this book, Susanna Covelli puts exactly that thing into the scene directly behind him. The monsters arrive. The aliens arrive. The ninjas arrive. The pages get busier and busier while the narrator's argument quietly collapses over his shoulder.

And he never turns around.

The dog does, though. The dog is fully aware, increasingly alarmed, and completely unable to get anybody's attention, which gives every child reading this an ally.

Narrator against everybody. Dog and kid on the same team.

I'm taking that team.

For teachers and librarians: Familius, August 20, 2024. Thirty-two pages. The publisher launched it at ages 3 to 6; current listings say 5 to 7, and having read it I'd lean toward the older end because some of the humor is dry.

Roughly 307 words in the ebook edition. No Lexile, ATOS, Guided Reading or AR data exists for it yet that I'd stand behind, so there's none here.

One warning for anyone ordering this. There are two recent picture books with nearly the same title. This is the 2024 Howard Pearlstein and Susanna Covelli book. Shannon Hale and Tracy Subisak published a different book called This Book Is Not for You! in 2022. Check the author before you buy.

Jungle Jimmy's Journal

A reviewer named Natalie put her finger on exactly what this book is, and she used the right word:

Pantomime.

She compared it to the panto tradition of an audience screaming "it's behind you" at a character who cannot hear them.

That's the whole machine, and it's why this book plays so much better out loud than on a page by yourself.

I've spent thirty years working live rooms, and there is no more reliable device in children's entertainment than a performer who doesn't know what the audience knows. You don't have to coax the reaction out of them. You have to survive it.

The kid isn't reading a book. The kid is warning somebody, and getting ignored, which is somehow even funnier.

There's a second pleasure stacked on top of it: you're breaking a rule simply by continuing. He says stop. You turn the page. He says there's nothing coming. You turn the page. For a child, disobedience with no consequences is an extremely good afternoon.

What I like most, though, is the arrangement of who knows what.

Children spend their entire day in a world where adults know things they don't. Where we're going. What time it is. Why seventeen cookies is not happening.

This book inverts it completely. The grown-up is confidently, loudly wrong, and the kid can see the evidence.

Now the weakness, and it's the obvious one.

Once you've worked out the trick, you've worked out the trick. He denies something, it appears behind him, he doesn't notice, repeat. A library review council flagged exactly that, saying the repetition may lose some kids before the end, and another review questioned how much it gives you on a second read.

They're right. The first few contradictions are surprises. After that they become predictions.

Those are both fun, but they're not the same fun, and one of them wears out faster.

Readit's Review

"He's wrong."

About what?

"Everything."

Strong opening position.

"He says there aren't monsters."

Correct.

"There are monsters."

Yes.

"He says there aren't aliens."

Correct.

"There are aliens."

I see where this is going.

"Why doesn't he turn around?"

Because then it would be a very short book.

"The dog should tell him."

The dog appears to be busy panicking.

"I would tell him."

I believe you.

"HEY. MUSTACHE MAN."

Readit.

"THERE IS STUFF BEHIND YOU."

Thank you.

"Why can't he hear me?"

Paper.

"Oh."

What did you like best?

"The dog."

Why?

"Because he knows."

And the old guy doesn't.

"There it is."

What Others Think

This one is new, so the numbers are small and I'll be upfront about that.

Goodreads has it at 4.24 out of 5 from 86 ratings and 47 reviews. Seventy-nine percent sit at four or five stars, and not a single person has given it one star.

Worth knowing: a good share of those reviews came from advance copies, which tends to run warm. Treat 4.24 as encouraging rather than settled.

KidTime StoryTime's read-aloud is at 1.1 million views, which is a much larger sample of actual kid attention than 86 ratings.

The praise lands in the same three places every time: Covelli's pictures, the dog, and children spotting everything happening behind the narrator.

Sarah Between the Lines describes the setup precisely: the narrating man is oblivious to all the silliness, gross stuff, monsters and zombies around him "while his dog is well aware." Her kids laughed and then stayed to study the illustrations, which is the behavior you want.

Liz reports it was "an instant hit" with her four and six-year-olds, which is a useful age datapoint given the publisher moved its own guidance upward.

Heather Adores Books lands on five to seven year olds and, in a detail I enjoyed, spent time trying to work out what breed the dog is. Scottish terrier, she thinks. She isn't positive.

Neither am I, but I respect the commitment.

The honest caution comes from Natalie, the same reviewer who named the pantomime comparison. She loves the concept and the artwork, and still thinks it will be "a bit hit and miss with children."

I'd agree with her, and I think the variable is whether your kid enjoys being the one who knows. Some children live for it. Others want the story to just tell them what happens.

Professional reviewers liked the irony and the artwork while feeling the final reveal doesn't quite match the buildup. Having read it, I'd say that's fair. The ending is fine. The middle is better.

Belly Laugh Scale

4 out of 5: Big-Time Belly Laughs

Four, and the reason is the panto engine.

The narrator says there's nothing funny here. The pictures respectfully disagree, at volume. And the child gets to catch it before the person supposedly in charge of the book does.

Covelli earns most of this score. Her pages get more crowded as the denials pile up, and she gives the dog a running performance as the only staff member who can see what's happening.

Not a five because the joke doesn't develop. It repeats, beautifully, but it repeats, and surprise turns into prediction fairly quickly.

Although prediction gets extremely loud when a room of kids is waiting to yell it's behind you.

Final Explorer Verdict

Ages 4 to 7, for the kid who loves catching a grown-up being completely wrong.

Pre-readers do well here too, which is worth saying. A child who can't decode a word of Pearlstein's text can still catch every single one of Covelli's jokes. Look, spot, point, laugh, warn the dog, yell at the narrator.

That's genuine participation before reading skill has to carry any of the weight, and it's rarer than it sounds.

It's also a sneaky pick for a kid who says books are boring, because this one opens by insisting they shouldn't read it. You've turned reading into a small act of rebellion before page three. I've gathered more books that pull that trick on my reluctant readers list.

My hesitation is reread value. The pictures reward going back. The joke does not. Some kids will happily return precisely because they know what's coming. Others will feel they've solved it.

And check the author before you order, because of that near-identical title.

If this lands, the obvious next step is The Monster at the End of This Book, which has been running a version of this play since 1971 and still hasn't been beaten.

There's a bridge to my own shelf here that I don't have to force at all. Look! There Are No Dinos Inside Of This Book is the same game from the other side. Pearlstein's narrator insists all the good stuff isn't there. My Dangerous Dave insists there are no dinosaurs. Both times the pictures tell on the grown-up and the kid gets to be right.

The grown-up talks.

The pictures snitch.

Kids win.

Readit?

"Yeah?"

This review is not for you.

"I'm still reading."

There may be monsters in the next one.

"You said may."

You're learning.

Keep exploring, Story Seekers!

Jungle Jimmy & Readit