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ENTRY TYPE:
WORK TITLE: FOUR BAD UNICORNS
WORK NOTES:
PSEUDONYM(S):
BIRTHDATE:
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CITY: Cambridge
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COUNTRY: United Kingdom
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LAST VOLUME: SATA 370
RESEARCHER NOTES:
PERSONAL
Born in Bolton, England; married; has children.
EDUCATION:Cambridge School of Art, M.A.
ADDRESS
CAREER
Writer, illustrator, and educator. Works part-time as a classroom assistant in a primary school.
AWARDS:Roald Dahl Funny Prize, 2012, for My Big Shouting Day!
WRITINGS
Author’s work has been translated into Welsh.
SIDELIGHTS
A British writer and illustrator, Rebecca Patterson is the author of several picture books as well as short, illustrated children’s novels. Patterson studied illustration at the Cambridge School of Art and taps her own childhood for inspiration when making new story concepts.
In My Big Shouting Day!, which won the 2012 Roald Dahl Funny Prize, a child goes from one tantrum to the next. The book was published in the United States as My No, No, No Day! A contributor to Kirkus Reviews said that “Patterson’s tale is visually festive even as Bella does her best to wring darkness from every moment.” In Not on a School Night!, two boys find all sorts of ways to stay up past bedtime each school night. Much to the parents’ dismay, the boys are creative in finding reasons to be up late. Reviewing the book in School Librarian, Sarah Mears called it “a fun story for parents to share with small children about an all too familiar situation.”
In The Pirate House, young Sam imagines that the occupants of the house on the corner of his street are pirates. When Sam shares his make-believe vision of the newly exciting neighborhood with his friends, they are also eager to add to the story, with mermaids, magic, and hidden treasure being mixed in with the pirate story. In a review in School Librarian, Beth Cox found it to be “a great book for exploring the imagination.”
In 2014’s Nightbear, a second-hand stuffed bear recalls his life as a brand new toy for ungrateful kids. They give him to a charity shop, but eventually he is purchased by a little girl who loves him and her other bears. He finds that he plays an important part in her life. Writing in School Librarian, Wendy Worley noted that the book contains “a heartwarming message for everyone.” Worley mentioned that “the sparkly cover and bright coloured friendly illustrations are charming and will delight all.”
Patterson published A Moon Girl Stole My Friend in 2019. Set eighty years into the future, the story centers on the tense relationship between Lyla and Bianca. Friends since preschool, Bianca replaces Lyla when new-girl Petra joins the class. Lyla is upset at Bianca for hurting her feelings, especially because Petra is so mean. However, she isn’t ready to give up on their friendship. Reviewing the book in LoveReading4Kids, Andrea Reece insisted that “this is a really good story for newly confident readers.” Writing in An Awfully Big Blog Adventure, Pippa Goodhart stated: “I can imagine many slightly unsure young readers being converted into keen readers by this very rewarding book.”
A Robot Girl Ruined My Sleepover, a sequel to the moon girl story. finds Lyla is assigned to be the caretaker of a new cyborg classmate. While Clara 2.2 initially seems to be the perfect friend, Lyla realizes that she doesn’t have any regard for her other friends and family members. Again reviewing in LoveReading4Kids, Reece noticed that “there’s lots of fun and humour in the story, but some real tension too.”
[open new]Patterson’s next picture book is especially meaningful to her in being based on her experiences growing up alongside a little sister disabled by cerebral palsy. As a child Patterson had to repeatedly explain to peers why her sister, Susanna, was still in a “buggy.” Susanna endured various indignities, such as having her wheelchair used as a post in play forts; being deposited on the floor so someone could give her wheelchair a spin; and being hauled across a room when claimed for someone’s team. As a published author, Patterson long declined to write about Susanna’s experiences because they were her sister’s, not hers. But as she explained in a BookTrust essay: “I kept seeing well-meaning picture books featuring … the eternally happy child whose disability is worn like a superpower and who is held up as someone we can all learn from. I wanted to write about a real person like Susanna.” Patterson affirmed that she wrote Four Bad Unicorns “as a sister and for a sister. It’s not a book about disability, it’s about falling out and making up. A child with a disability … could be one of the most appealing people you know but nothing stops them having terrible playdates. Just ask my sister.”
Four Bad Unicorns is narrated by Connie, who is wheelchair-bound and crazy-excited to play Unicorn Farmers with big sister Frankie. The game shifts when friends Ada and Colin show up. A bit bossy, Ada proclaims herself queen and starts pushing Connie around, first making her a palace wall and then co-opting her wheelchair—along with Frankie’s high-heeled shoes—for her Throne of Rolling Power. Imprisoned for bad dancing, the queen’s subjects finally revolt, eliciting accusations of bad behavior all around. Finally they decide to be good unicorns together.
A Publishers Weekly reviewer declared that in Four Bad Unicorns Patterson’s “wash-filled line drawings accurately channel childhood exuberance, energy … and happily focused interest.” A Kirkus Reviews writer opined that her “bright, expressive, unicorn-cluttered cartoon illustrations are inviting” and the “matter-of-fact portrayal of Connie’s disability is refreshing.” This reviewer found that, if anything, Patterson is perhaps too forgiving towards Ada, whose seizure of the wheelchair is not explained to be any more offensive than the seizure of the shoes. The reviewer added that readers may object to Frankie’s suggestion that all four kids have been “bad unicorns,” since “the rebellion seems fully justified.”[close new]
BIOCRIT
PERIODICALS
Kirkus Reviews, November 15, 2006, review of The Gordon Star, p. 1177; April 1, 2012, review of My No, No, No Day!; April 1, 2012, review of My No, No, No Day!; January 1, 2024, review of Four Bad Unicorns.
Publishers Weekly, February 6, 2012, review of My No, No, No Day!, p. 58.
School Librarian, June 22, 2012, Sarah Mears, review of Not on a School Night!, p. 96; September 22, 2012, Angela Redfern, review of My Big Shouting Day!, p. 156; December 22, 2012, Beth Cox, review of The Pirate House, p. 221; September 22, 2013, Trevor Dickinson, review of My Busy Being Bella Day, p. 156; September 22, 2014, Wendy Worley, review of Nightbear, p. 158.
ONLINE
Awfully Big Blog Adventure, http://awfullybigreviews.blogspot.com/ (March 27, 2019), Pippa Goodhart, review of A Moon Girl Stole My Friend.
BookTrust, https://www.booktrust.org.uk/ (May 4, 2022), Rebecca Patterson, “‘What’s This Book Got to Do with Me?’: Why Children’s Books Need to Show Disability and Diversity.”
LoveReading4Kids, https://www.lovereading4kids.co.uk/ (March 6, 2021), Andrea Reece, review of A Robot Girl Ruined My Sleepover and A Moon Girl Stole My Friend.
Publishers Weekly, https://www.publishersweekly.com/ (January 25, 2024), review of Four Bad Unicorns.
I grew up in Bolton but now live in Cambridge. I work part time in a local primary school as a Teaching Assistant where I whisper stuff like 'I never had to know about fronted adverbials' to small children.
"What's this book got to do with me?" Why children's books need to show disability and diversity
Published on: 04 May 2022
Four Bad Unicorns author Rebecca Patterson explains why all children have the right to see themselves in books - and what some children's books get wrong.
Feeling disengaged from books
Most cash-strapped primary schools like the one I work in don’t get many new books. Sometimes I’ll grab a book from the shelf and start reading a long-forgotten story published in the 1980s or 1990s, where everyone is white and middle class and living in houses with lovely banisters, or in a rural idyll where women bake cakes and men chop stuff and dash about in tractors. The lives depicted are far removed from those of the children I’m reading to. Before I’ve read two pages, some of my audience decide it’s more fun to go for a wee and wash their hands really slowly.
My own experience of feeling disengaged from a picture book happened a long time ago. My mum read me and my little sister, Susanna, a story, a typical picture book of the time with gentle pastel-coloured 1970s drawings. It’s about a little sister who runs away and hides in a field of long grass until her big sister gets so upset looking for her that the little one pops out of her hiding place and comforts her big sister and they both realise how much they love each other.
I guess Mum thought we’d relate to this charming tale of sisterly love. And maybe we did. But I also remember feeling conflicted - um, Mum! My sister’s never going to be running off anywhere! Did you forget? She’s disabled! I loved my little sister but the only running off was done by me when I parked Susanna on a Bolton street corner and said, “Back in a minute!”
Illustration: Nadia ShireenIllustration: Nadia Shireen
Big stuff bonded us, unlike other little girls
Susanna was born with cerebral palsy. Obviously my mum knew we weren’t two kids who could both run about in grass, she just saw a cute book about sisters. Sisters who loved each other, just like us. But the story irked me. Even by five or six I’d done plenty of explaining to other children who asked what was wrong with Susanna. Playing out in our street and telling some kid, “She’s still in a buggy ‘cause she can’t walk.”
I don't know if Susanna considered her disability when we looked at picture books. She certainly saw herself in Russell Hoban’s Frances and she loved that she looked just like the cute long-haired monster hanging from a tree in Where the Wild Things Are. Even though she couldn’t hang from a branch, we can all relate to characters that aren’t exactly like us, but that book about the two sisters running about upset me. It negated something crucial in my relationship with my own little sister, the responsibility I had for her and the unfair limitations she had in her life. Big stuff that bonded us unlike other little girls. And I can only assume that there are kids who feel a profound disconnection to the stories I read to them in class. Does the little girl whose daddy is in prison smart inside when she sees that daddy coming home in The Tiger Who Came to Tea? Experiences like hers and mine and Susanna’s need to be addressed in children’s books along with other kinds of diversity.
I have wanted to write about Susanna for so long. She’s such a huge part of my life but I have held back as her disability isn't my story, it belongs to her.
But then I kept seeing well-meaning picture books featuring a disabled character. You know the one, the eternally happy child whose disability is worn like a superpower and who is held up as someone we can all learn from.
I wanted to write about a real person
I wanted to write about a real person like Susanna. A person, who as a child, was often used as a supporting wall in some tent like construction because her wheelchair had useful handles to tie the rug roof to. A person who was routinely removed from her wheelchair and plonked on the floor so some child could “try out” the wheelchair – as if it was just an alternative to the scooter or tricycle. I include these events in my story, the indignities of being a disabled child. How did she put up with being hauled about by hapless children? One time a small girl lifted her and staggered, carrying her across my room saying, “Susanna is on my side now! My team!” But Susanna had had enough. She was done taking sides and bit the girl's arm, who screamed and dropped Susanna on the floor. We all got in trouble. I didn’t include this event in my story, but it’s the anecdote that gets Susanna roaring with laughter.
I have written Four Bad Unicorns as a sister and for a sister. It’s not a book about disability, it’s about falling out and making up. A child with a disability might defy doctors' diagnoses and could be one of the most appealing people you know but nothing stops them having terrible playdates. Just ask my sister.
Follow Rebecca Patterson on Twitter
Patterson, Rebecca FOUR BAD UNICORNS Andersen Press USA (Children's None) $18.99 3, 5 ISBN: 9798765625286
A child's bossy behavior threatens to spoil a game.
Narrator Connie, who uses a wheelchair, and her big sister, Frankie, have gone "UNICORN CRAZY!" They can't wait to play Unicorn Farmers. Then the doorbell rings: Ada and Colin Beswick want to play, too. But Ada has her own ideas and assigns roles to everyone: First, Connie is a wall in the Unicorn Palace of Wonder; next, she and Colin are sleeping unicorns. Ada dubs herself the Queen of Unicorns--and takes Frankie's twinkle high heels and then Connie's wheelchair for her Throne of Rolling Power. Finally, after they're sentenced to prison for "very BAD" dancing, Ada's subjects revolt. Ada tearfully protests they've been bad unicorns; Colin counters that Ada's been a bad queen. When Frankie opines they've all been bad unicorns, Connie proposes that they all be good unicorns together. The bright, expressive, unicorn-cluttered cartoon illustrations are inviting, and the matter-of-fact portrayal of Connie's disability is refreshing. However, although Ada learns to be a better playmate, the author never makes clear that taking Connie's wheelchair is a far greater misstep than taking Frankie's high heels; the scene is a missed opportunity to emphasize that wheelchairs are not toys, but necessities that many users consider extensions of their bodies. Readers may also take issue with Frankie's statement that they've all been "bad unicorns," as the rebellion seems fully justified. Connie and her family present white; the Beswicks are brown-skinned.
A well-meaning but flawed take on conflict resolution. (Picture book. 4-6)
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"Patterson, Rebecca: FOUR BAD UNICORNS." Kirkus Reviews, 1 Jan. 2024, p. NA. Gale General OneFile, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A777736790/ITOF?u=schlager&sid=bookmark-ITOF&xid=187213da. Accessed 30 Mar. 2024.
Four Bad Unicorns
Rebecca Patterson. Andersen, $18.99 (32p) ISBN 979-8-7656-2528-6
Siblings Frankie and Connie endure a bossy playmate to a point—and then find a way to turn the tables—in this beat-by-beat playdate of a picture book. Narrator Connie, who uses a wheelchair, describes the way Connie and Frankie, portrayed with pale skin, have of late gone “UNICORN CRAZY”—become obsessed with all things unicorn. Frankie zooms through breakfast at “top unicorn speed” so the two can play “UNICORN FARMERS! OUR BEST GAME EVER!” When neighbors Ada and Colin, portrayed with brown skin, come to play, bossy Ada takes over, insisting the group pivot to a building game (“Unicorn Palace of Wonder”) and requiring Connie “be part of the wall.” Further indignities ensue until the siblings are prompted to rebel. If the us-versus-them plotting lacks in resolution , Patterson’s wash-filled line drawings accurately channel childhood exuberance, energy—and happily focused interest. Ages 4–9. (Mar.)
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DETAILS
Reviewed on: 01/25/2024
Genre: Children's