Patricia CoombsBesprekingen

The illustrations are the star in this book. They are charming. Dorrie runs into trouble on her way to get eggs and is not listened to by the adults in her life. Eventually she is able to warn them and they finish the day with cake.½

The witches and wizards of Witchville are not acting like themeselves -- they are bickering and fighting with one another. Dorrie learns the cause and attempts to save the day.

With apologies to A Chorus Line, Dance 3 Looks 10. The illustrations are very nice but the story is kind of …meh.

I almost passed on this but I feel like some children like a gentle Halloween and not a scary Halloween. So I’ll keep this a while and see.

YMMV because witchcraft, spells, ghost talk .

I really hope one of these books shows the Big Witch engaging more with Dorrie - she seems to be such a background character, but maybe that’s a purposeful decision, so as to let Dorrie take center stage?

So cute! I found a bunch of Dorrie books at a a library book sale and this one is cute, silly, witchy fun!

A homemade toy that was not-quite bear and not-quite rabbit, Mostly Frederick Sometimes Sam - Mostly, for short - was the beloved playmate of a little girl named Jane. Then one day Jane left Mostly in the park, and the odd stuffed animal found himself transported to the Lost Playground - an enchanted realm of lost and forgotten toys. Here, with the help of his friend Mouse, Mostly tried to fit in, but found that his homemade nature and hybrid animal status made him an outcast. Deciding to risk it all on the chance to see Jane again, Mostly returned to the park where he'd been abandoned, hoping against hope that he would be reunited with his little girl...

First published in 1963, The Lost Playground was, together with Waddy and His Brother (also first published in 1963), one of author/artist Patricia Coombs' first books. It is rather obscure, and is probably not one I would have sought out, were I not such a lifelong fan of Coombs' twenty-book series about Dorrie the Little Witch, and had I not been curious about her other books. On the whole, I found the story here sweet, and the artwork cute. It's rather text-heavy for a picture-book - it is almost more of an illustrated short story - and is not the equal of the Dorrie books, whether in storytelling or in artwork. That said, I could see it having appeal for readers who enjoy sentimental and somewhat melancholy toy stories, for those who appreciate vintage picture-books, or for those who (like me) are fans of its creator.

2017

It seems almost sacrilege to give a Patricia Coombs book anything other than a rave review. After all, her Dorrie the Little Witch series was a staple of my early childhood reading, checked out of the library again and again, and I have also enjoyed many of her non-Dorrie titles, from The Magic Pot to The Magician and McTree. My discovery, as an adult, that there are a number of Coombs' books that I have not yet read, has been very exciting.

Unfortunately, after requesting Tilabel through Inter-Library Loan, I find that it does not live up to my (admittedly high) expectations. Truth be told, three stars was probably a little generous - influenced by my inability to conceive of a Coombs book not being fabulous. The story, in which a young groundhog's work ethic is misrepresented to the Queen, is apparently based on a German folktale, but no attribution is given, and I was so indifferent that I couldn't be bothered to research it. I can see elements of Rumpelstiltskin here, but not enough to give the tale any interest. The illustrations had no more appeal for me than the narrative, looking crowded and muddled. Such a disappointment, when I was expecting to adore this!

A poor old man goes to ask for work and food at the home of a wealthy neighbor, only to be turned away with nothing. Little does he know that the pot he finds by the side of the road, on his way home, is really a "funny little demon" in disguise, and that his luck is about to change! "Hucka-pucka" says the magic (demon) pot, and soon the old man, his wife, and their little cat have more than enough to eat...

Another charming picture-book from Patricia Coombs, whose series of early-readers detailing the adventures of Dorrie the Little Witch gave me so many hours of pleasure as a girl, The Magic Pot has a very folkloric feel to it. The illustrations are vintage Coombs, from the patched couple to the adorable cat!

"Don't make so much noise... Pull up your socks... Don't spill the milk." Fed up with always being told what to do - by her older sister, her mother, and her father - Lisa walks out of her house and into the woods. She's running away! But an unexpected meeting with a grompet - a furry little creature whose exact nature is never revealed - leads to the realization that a home in which no one cared enough to ever give commands, would be a terrible thing. And so Lisa decides to return home, bossing her new grompet friend the whole way, of course!

A brief picture-book from Patricia Coombs, creator of the marvelous early-reader series devoted to Dorrie the Little Witch, Lisa and the Grompet offers a sympathetic portrait of an aggrieved (and somewhat sulky) young child. Reading as an adult, I'm a little bemused by the notion - implied in the text - that one can be reconciled to being ordered around by the ability to give orders oneself, but as a child reader I simply identified with Lisa's sense of indignation. I also relished Coombs' illustrations, which aren't quite as winsome as in the Dorrie books, but which still kept me engaged as a girl.

Dorrie - that little witch whose stockings are always mismatched, whose hat is always on crooked, and who is always accompanied by her faithful cat companion, Gink - stars in her fourth fabulous adventure in Dorrie and the Weather Box, causing trouble once again as she attempts to use her mother's magic. Deciding one Wednesday morning that she would like to go on a picnic, Dorrie sets out to "fix" the weather, with predictably disastrous results. It may be sunny outside, but only because Dorrie had brought the storm into the house! What will the Big Witch say, when she returns and finds it raining indoors...?

Prompted by my recent discovery that this series of early-reader picture-books, which I simply adored as a girl, included a number of titles with which I was unfamiliar, I have begun rereading the entire lot - not always an easy task, given how difficult some of them are to locate. This entry was one of the ones I pored over when younger, and (now that I have had the pleasure of rereading it) reminds me of Dorrie's Magic, which also featured a tale involving Dorrie's misuse of her mother's magical supplies.

Vastly entertaining, with charming illustrations that never fail to draw me in, Patricia Coombs' books are often little domestic comedies, all dressed up in witchy attire. I imagine that they would appeal, both to young children who dream, ala Harry Potter, of being witches and wizards, and to those who can identify with doing something naughty, when left unsupervised. In short, the Dorrie the Little Witch books should have broad appeal, and I continue to be mystified that no one has thought to reprint them!

Dorrie - the little witch whose hat was always on crooked, and whose stockings were always mismatched - returns for her third adventure in Dorrie's Play. Accompanied by her faithful cat-companion Gink, Dorrie searches for something to do one slow Thursday. With her mother in bed with a headache, and irascible Cook busily engaged in the kitchen, Dorrie decides to mount a dramatic production in the living room. All goes well in her preparation for, and performance of, The Princess and the Magician, until it is revealed that the cloth Dorrie cut up for curtains was actually the Big Witch's attire for that evening's Costume Ball. How will this latest accidental catastrophe be resolved...?

I adored the Dorrie books as a young girl, repeatedly checking out every title in my local library's collection, poring over Patricia Coombs' delightful illustrations, and thrilling to her endearing domestic tales, all dressed up in witchy clothing. But although I was a most devoted reader, I had no idea that there were twenty titles in the series, many of them unfamiliar to me. It was only recently, after happening upon the first two books - Dorrie's Magic and Dorrie and the Blue Witch - that I discovered Coombs' prolificity, and decided to reread the entire series.

Coombs' charming illustrations and engaging story make Dorrie's Play well worth the effort expended in obtaining it! With no copies for sale online, and few left in public libraries, it is the single most difficult Dorrie title to locate. Thankfully, my excellent public librarians stepped into the breach (as they always do), and found me a copy through inter-library loan. This time, it traveled a mere 200 miles to reach me!

Patricia Coomb's Dorrie the Little Witch series was one of the great joys of my early reading career, but although I must have checked books like Dorrie and the Blue Witch out of the library a hundred times as a girl, I did not discover many of the author's other titles until I was an adult. Imagine my surprise and delight when, searching for something else entirely, I stumbled across this title at the public library this past weekend!

A stand-alone fantasy adventure for younger readers, The Magician and McTree follows the story of McTree, a cat whose very old magician-companion accidentally gives him the power of speech. Although warned by the magician that this new-found ability could lead to trouble, if ever discovered by other humans, McTree finds it impossible not to speak. And so begins a journey that will take McTree all the way to the King's castle, and back again...

An enjoyable, though by no means brilliant, story is paired with Coombs' adorable illustrations, which suck the reader into McTree's world. His many expressions, whether gleeful or outraged, are ably recorded, and it would take a very level head indeed not to be won over by this plump little feline.

The second of twenty delightful picture-books detailing the adventures of Dorrie - a little witch whose hat is always on crooked, and whose stockings never match - Dorrie and the Blue Witch is also my favorite of the series. I checked it out of the library constantly as a child, reading the story and poring over the illustrations countless times. I simply adored Dorrie and her black cat Gink, and loved reading about her witchy home and adventures...

When her mother, the Big Witch, is summoned to a very important meeting, Dorrie finds herself confronting Mildred the (very bad) Blue Witch. Nasty, and very powerful, Mildred wants to kidnap her, but Dorrie isn't the daughter of a witch for nothing, and with the aid of her mother's perfume she turns the tables with a vengeance!

In addition to its appealing narrative, I have always thought that Dorrie and the Blue Witch was one of Patricia Coombs' most visually engaging titles. The scenes in which Mildred gives off blue sparks set my heart racing as a girl, and I enjoyed the sense of height evoked by the many staircases in Dorrie's home. The picture in which Dorrie, the Big Witch, and Gink all climb to the magic room in the tower, with their shadows spread out behind them on the wall, is particularly memorable.

Sadly, the Dorrie books are all out-of-print, and exceedingly difficult to come by. I consider myself fortunate indeed to have come across copies of this, and of the first title in the series, Dorrie's Magic, but I wish some astute children's editor would consider reprinting the lot of them!

One of the treasured artefacts of my childhood, Patricia Coombs' series about Dorrie - a little witch whose hat was always on crooked, whose socks were always mismatched, and whose penchant for trouble never failed to produce an adventure - kept me continuously entertained. I must have checked out some of these Dorrie books from the library a hundred times! I recall particularly enjoying Dorrie and the Blue Witch, although every entry in the series was superb. Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered, these many years later, that Coombs had authored twenty Dorrie books, some of them - like this first installment - completely unknown to me!

When her mother, the Big Witch, goes into town one Saturday to do some shopping, she asks Dorrie to be good, and to clean her room. Of course everything is more fun when you use magic, and Dorrie - accompanied by her faithful cat Gink - decides to use the Big Witch's colorful powders to accomplish her task. Her haphazard potion-making produces the inevitable mishaps - from turning the entire house blue, to changing Cook into a horse - and Dorrie learns that some things (like cleaning) require work, not magic...

A charming beginning to a magical series, Dorrie's Magic offers a fantastic variant of a story many young readers will instantly recognize. Coombs' adorable illustrations are a perfect match for her story, conveying the quirky but loving atmosphere of Dorrie's home. How I wish that these books would be reprinted, so today's young readers might enjoy their magic!

When a greedy ogre begins stealing all the corn, pigs and gold he can carry away from her small village, young Molly Mullett decides to put a stop to it, proving once and for all that she's not the "sneezley, wheezley, sniveling girl" her father thinks her. Who cares if the king laughs at her, and no one believes she can do it? Molly just grins, setting out with a bundle packed by her mother...

Published in 1975, Molly Mullett was one of Patricia Coombs' stand-alone picture-books - in contrast to her twenty-book Dorrie the Little Witch series - and has that overt "girls can do" attitude found in so many fairy-tales of the era. Somehow, despite my sympathy for the idea that girls can do, and my long-time fondness for the author, I just didn't enjoy this one as much as I had expected. In fact, I was reminded of my unhappy experience with Coombs' Tilabel, and have begun to wonder whether I should persist in reading the author's remaining non-Dorrie books. I think I'll just content myself with my Dorrie retrospective - sixteen more to go, after all! - and leave it at that.

It's hard to believe that my Dorrie "retrospective" - begun in June of 2009, when I had the great good fortune to stumble across copies of Dorrie's Magic and Dorrie and the Blue Witch, the first two books in Patricia Coombs' series about this adorably witchy heroine; a series that was one of my best-beloved reading pleasures, as a girl - has actually come to an end! Yes, Dorrie and the Haunted Schoolhouse, published in 1992, is the twentieth and final adventure of the little witch with mismatched socks and crooked hat, a character who first saw print in 1962. (Are you reading this, editors of The Oxford Companion to Children's Literature? The Dorrie series began in 1962, with Dorrie's Magic, not in 1974, with Dorrie and the Wizard's Spell! Do some fact-checking, next time!).

Thirty years is a considerable amount of time, for any picture-book series, and the differences between the early installments of Dorrie's adventures, and the final two (this one, as well as Dorrie and the Pin Witch) are considerable. The illustrative style is significantly changed - the earlier works contained crisp black and white illustrations, with occasional color accents, whereas the final two titles contain full-color artwork - the physical dimensions of the books themselves have been altered (from taller, early-reader style tomes to squarer, more standard "picture-book" volumes), and the later stories, while engaging enough, seem to have little to offer, in the way of something new: something that varies from the tried-and-true "Dorrie" story, in which our heroine battles some malicious magical practitioner, in order to save the clueless adults witches of Witchville.

Oddly enough, although this final Dorrie tale is (sadly) an example of the later, inferior illustrative style, I thought that, from a narrative stand-point, it represented an exciting conclusion to the series, and therefore awarded it four stars, rather than the three I gave to the previous installment. The story of Dorrie's first day at witch school, it follows its eponymous heroine as she, together with her two(?) classmates, Dither and Mince, searches for her missing teacher, Professor Zucchini. A hilarious flying adventure ensues, sending the entire schoolhouse through the air! Is it truly a case of a haunting? Or is something else afoot? Finding out is half the fun!

Although definitely not one of the strongest book in the series, Dorrie and the Haunted Schoolhouse is still a worthy conclusion to the best witchy series to ever see print!

It feels distinctly blasphemous to even consider the idea... but I didn't really like this nineteenth entry in Patricia Coombs' twenty-book series about Dorrie, a little witch whose stockings were always mismatched, and whose hat was always on crooked. Judged on its own merits, it's probably a three-star book (hence, my rating), suitable for young readers with a taste for witchy tales. But as a Dorrie book, part of the same collection containing such childhood favorites as Dorrie and the Blue Witch, or Dorrie and the Weather Box? It simply didn't measure up.

The narrative itself, in which Dorrie must face off against the Pin Witch - yet another magical practitioner intent on harming the ever-oblivious adult residents of Witchville - isn't such a departure from the previous books in the series, although I felt the text was somewhat more slight (I'll have to compare this with one of the early titles, to be sure). No, the real problem here is Coombs' artwork, which is in an entirely different style than the previous eighteen books. It isn't just that these "Dorrie" illustrations are in full-color, whereas the earlier ones were mostly black-and-white, with limited color accents - although that's bad enough - but that the overall quality of the art itself is lower, with blurrier images, and a young heroine whose emotional register (visually speaking) is far less appealing.

Somehow, all the magic of the earlier titles has gone missing! The scene in which all the witches are streaming through the air, toward the Witchville tower, ought to have been enchanting, but is marred by the smudgy appearance of each individual figure. All the sharp crispness of Coombs' earlier style has been sacrificed for color, robbing these pages of a great deal of expressiveness, particularly as it concerns Dorrie's facial expressions. The impact of a more sparing and judicious use of color - as seen in previous titles - is also missing here, with little of that sense of contrast that made certain scenes in the earlier titles far more dramatic.

I feel like a bit of a Grinch writing this review, since Dorrie and the Pin Witch really isn't such a terrible book. Unfortunately, it isn't just any book, but a Dorrie book, which sets up sky-high expectations. Expectations that it does not meet...

Dorrie - that adorable little witch whose stockings were always mismatched, and whose hat was always on crooked - has a partner in this eighteenth installment of Patricia Coombs' twenty-book series devoted to her adventures, and it isn't Gink, her all-black feline companion! Cousin Cosmo, deposited with the Big Witch and Dorrie when Uncle Flagstone must fly around the world, arrives just in time for the grand opening of the Oddson-Ends Museum of History, Mystery and Magic Arts, donated to Witchville by Witch Oddson and Witch Ends, and he and Dorrie soon find themselves confronting an enemy intent on stealing one of the museum's treasures. Made invisible by the Big Witch's magical spot remover (which they mistook for soup), the two cousins race to prevent Giblett the Enchanter from making off with the magical brass bowl he needs to complete an evil spell...

Like the previous title in the series, Dorrie and the Witches' Camp, this is not a book I recall reading as a girl, which seems a shame, since I know I would have loved it. With all the magical mayhem and adventure of the earlier Dorrie tales - I loved the chase scenes, all through the museum - and the same delightfully piquant illustrations, Dorrie and the Museum Case is another winner! I was particularly struck by the fact that the story incorporates some of the themes of the very first Dorrie book (Dorrie's Magic), in the scenes in which the Big Witch attempts to use magic to clean the house!

It's hard to believe that my Dorrie project is drawing to a close, with only two more titles left, but I'm certainly glad that this later entry in the series was so enjoyable! Long Live Dorrie!

Early one morning, before the sun is even up, Dorrie - that little witch with the mismatched socks and crooked hat - finds herself awakened by the Big Witch, and informed that the entire household is heading to the Witches' Camp at Lake Eerie. Determined to gather the herbs she needs, the Big Witch dismisses the reports of the frightened Glumglen witches, who claim to have encountered bears and sea monsters in the area. Predictably, her blithe disregard for any warning results in an adventure involving a magical adversary - Morzo, the Magician of Machines, in this case - whom Dorrie must step in to defeat...

The seventeenth entry in Patricia Coombs' twenty-book series about this adorable little witch, her black cat Gink, and her many entanglements with ill-meaning magical practitioners, Dorrie and the Witches' Camp is (unlike so many of the other titles) not a book I have any memory of encountering, as a young girl. I therefore greatly enjoyed reading this new (to me) story, although somehow, a little bit of the usual magic seemed to be missing. Perhaps because the story here seems more science-fiction than fantasy, with Morzo's many machines, and that felt like something of a departure from the magical quality of the rest of the books? In any case, although I wouldn't rank this with my favorite Dorrie books, it is still immensely engaging, with the same delightful illustrations, done mostly in black and white, with occasional color accents, that have so delighted me in the previous books!

What was Dorrie - the little witch with mismatched socks, crooked hat, and a penchant for getting into trouble - up to in this sixteenth installment of Patricia Coombs' twenty-book series chronicling her magical adventures? Had she finally been driven to drink, as the result of her endless run-ins with magical practitioners far older than herself? Ha! Of course not! Assisting her mother, the Big Witch, at their potions booth at the Witchville Fair, Dorrie noticed the odd behavior of a grouchy witch named Old Irontoes, who seemed to be stalking her. But although she informed the Big Witch of her suspicions, they (predictably) went unheeded, putting Dorrie, yet again, in the position of having to rescue the residents of Witchville, when they were all transformed into pigs...

Dorrie and the Witchville Fair is another fabulous entry in this wonderful series - one of the treasured memories of my reading childhood - with many of the plot elements I have come to think of as "standard" Dorrie fare. From the Big Witch's general obliviousness, which invariably sets up a situation in which Dorrie must rely on herself, to the malicious magic-worker who is defeated by our pint-size heroine, this story felt both familiar and enchanting, although I have no distinct memory of reading it, as a girl.

Having already mixed it up with renegade witches (blue and otherwise), grumpy aunts, wicked wizards, ruthless gem thieves, destructive goblins, fake fortune-tellers, malicious imps, flying demons, and dream monsters; Dorrie - the little witch with her hat permanently askew, and socks perpetually mismatched - confronts a hyper-actively playful ghost in this fifteenth installment of Patricia Coombs' magical twenty-book series. When the Big Witch - predictably disorganized and in a hurry - departs for a seance at Witch Grinda's house, she accidentally leaves behind the instructions for summoning a ghost. Dorrie, never loathe to try out her mother's magic, promptly sets out to use them, and finds herself stuck with the playful Screebit, a ghost with a determinedly mischievous bent...

Dorrie and the Screebit Ghost is another winning entry in this series (I know, I know - I could just cut and paste my words of praise from one Dorrie review to the next!), one that I greatly enjoyed as a young girl. This one was a bit of a departure from previous titles, I think, in that Dorrie does not confess all, at the end, instead successfully sneaking back into the house, before her mother is any the wiser. The Big Witch also seems decidedly snappy in this one, rather than just hurried, as she usually is. I'm not sure what to make of this: whether this was a one-off, or marked a change in tone, in the series. I guess I'll just have to read the final five, to find out! Ha!

It's another fabulously fun adventure with Dorrie - the little witch whose stockings were always mismatched, whose hat was always on crooked, and whose penchant for getting into (and out of) scrapes never diminished - in this fourteenth book of Patricia Coombs' twenty-book series! When all the residents of Witchville are stricken with a seemingly unending series of terrible nightmares, they suspect that the Dream Witch may have run out of the potion she uses to control her Dreamyard Monsters. The Big Witch sets out to conjure up the Dream Witch, but leaves the necessary potion behind (does anyone else wonder what the Big Witch can be thinking, at times...?), leading Dorrie to set out in pursuit. When Dorrie finds herself accidentally transported to the Dreamyard, and confronting its monsters, her use of her mother's potion has some very unexpected results...

I know it's getting redundant, at this point, but Dorrie and the Dreamyard Monsters was another title in this series - like Dorrie and the Blue Witch, or Dorrie and the Amazing Magic Elixir - that I checked out again and again from the library, as a young girl. This one was particularly creepy, at least in the scenes where Dorrie is pursued by the monsters, and particularly heart-warming and amusing, when Dorrie "conquers" the monsters. I simply love that contrast, and Dorrie's droll expression, when being hugged by all those monsters! All in all, "just" another five-star Dorrie book! I know, I know - is there any other kind?

Dorrie - that winsome little witch whose stockings were always mismatched, and whose hat was always on crooked - returns for her thirteenth adventure, set, appropriately enough, at Halloween! Excited at the prospect of her long awaited first flying lesson, promised by her mother the previous holiday season, Dorrie is terribly disappointed when the Big Witch is too busy making costumes, for the upcoming Halloween Pageant for the Great Sorceress, to teach her. As if that weren't bad enough, Dorrie is being forced to dress up as a pretty little princess! But when Dorrie's shenanigans with a borrowed broom lead her to discover a plot on the part of some flying demons, to kidnap the Great Sorceress and steal her Book of Shadows, she soon has far more to worry about...

Like many of the other Dorrie titles, from Dorrie and the Blue Witch (one of my very favorites!) to Dorrie and the Amazing Magic Elixir, Dorrie and the Halloween Plot was a book I checked out of the library countless times as a young girl. I really loved the fact that being a princess was so annoying for Dorrie, and (as always) enjoyed the story and illustrations! Although any of the Dorrie books would be appropriate for Halloween, this is the only one (as far as I can remember, anyway), which actually mentions the holiday, making it especially suitable for reading at this time of year.

Had Dorrie - the little witch whose stockings were always mismatched, and whose hat was always on crooked - suddenly reformed her ways, and decided to wear matching socks, and to straighten her hat? Of course not! (and thank goodness!) No, the neat little witch who materializes in this twelfth entry in Coombs' series wasn't Dorrie at all, but Natter, a nasty little imp conjured up by the witch Gloris, who appeared one day to take Cook's place. When Dorrie - always suspicious of strange grown-up witches - gets in the way one time too many, and stumbles onto Gloris' plot to cast a terrible spell on the Big Witch and her dinner guests, the visiting Witches of Glumglen, she finds herself a prisoner in the bathroom, as the obnoxious Natter takes her place. With a powerful spell preventing her from making any noise, will Dorrie be able to warn her mother and the other witches in time...?

The twelfth entry in Patricia Coombs' twenty book series about Dorrie and her enchanting adventures, Dorrie and the Witch's Imp sees our young heroine facing off against yet another dastardly plot on the part of an adult enchanter who underestimates her, much to her own detriment. I derived a great deal of pleasure, reading this one as a girl, from the fact that it is Dorrie's supposed flaws - her untidyness of dress, in particular - that prove so instrumental in her triumph here. All in all, this was yet another magically witchy adventure, one sure to please Dorrie's fans!