Debi Gliori is well-known for both her picture books and her novels for children and has been shortlisted for all the major prizes, including the Kate Greenaway award (twice) and the Scottish Arts Council award. Debi was the Shetland Islands' first children's writer-in-residence. She published her first book in 1990 and the title she has written and illustrated include No Matter What, The Trouble With Dragons, Stormy Weather, The Scariest Thing of All and, most recently What's the Time, Mr Wolf? for Bloomsbury. Find out more about Debi at debiglioribooks.com.
Buy What's the Time, Mr Wolf at the Guardian bookshop
1. Our Village by Quentin Blake and John Yeoman
A glorious light-filled celebration of diversity; the characters stayed with me for a long time. Reminiscent of a bygone way of village life I'm certain still exists in parts of rural Scotland, I loved this book for its depiction of the wide variety of human characters. There's everyone you could imagine: farmers, washerwomen, bakers, watch-menders, a strange old lady living alone with too many cats, and the Podgsons who run the general store where you can buy everything from chocolate mice to one elastic-sided boot, and all rendered in Quentin Blake's deceptively effortless line. When my children were small, we spent many a happy hour spent naming all the disparate items in that picture. The final night-time skating scene is a work of genius.
2. Tyrone, the Dirty, Rotten Cheat by Hans Wilhelm
Tyrone is a bully with vast teeth and even vaster gums who picks on smaller dinosaurs. When the dinosaurs decamp to Swamp Island for a week of eating, playing and sleeping under the stars, the stage is set for Tyrone to wreak havoc. Great dinosaur expressions and a sympathetic but non-wussy message about bullying make this a winner for little boys.
3. The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf and Robert Lawson
The best anti-bloodsports book ever. AND drawn in black and white. Proving, as if proof were needed, that less is more. If you haven't come across this classic from the 1930's, then acquire a copy now. No really, I'm not joking - this is an essential part of every child's library. The writing is pitch perfect, the drawings divine and the "heart" of the book is impeccable.
4. That Rabbit Belongs to Emily Brown by Cressida Cowell and Neal Layton
Money and privilege can't buy you love. Emily has glorious flights of imagination when she plays with her rabbit, Stanley. The Queen has pots of money, flunkeys galore, a penchant for calling rabbits "bunny-wunnies" and no imagination whatsoever. Cressida has written a joyous winner here and Neal has worked his own particular brand of magic and together they have made a great book which we treasure here at Gliori Schloss.
5. The Red Tree by Shaun Tan
Everything Shaun does makes me think, but this one made me cry. In public. In a bookshop. I'll stick myself out on a limb here and say that this book provides the most accurate map of the territory of clinical depression that I've ever seen. It's not a comfortable read, but if someone you love has suffered or is suffering from depression, it certainly goes a long way towards describing what it feels like to be inside their head. In my humble opinion. And the illustrations are breathtaking.
6. Farmer Duck by Martin Waddell and Helen Oxenbury
Orwell for tots, but better. This is one of those texts that has entered our family lexicon. "How goes the work?" we yell if one of us is doing some particularly onerous task (rodding drains, peeling 20kg apples, stump-grinding or whatever) and back will come the reply "Quack!" - an echo of Waddell's lazy farmer's question to his hard-pressed animals. Like Orwell, the animals revolt, but in Oxenbury's wickedly observant hands, the story achieves almost vertical lift-off. Her hairy, reclining farmer in bed with chocolates and tabloids is a work of loathsome genius; her put-upon Duck ("sleepy and weepy and tired") makes one want to take him home for serious cossetting. Brilliant.
7. Max by Bob Graham
Has one of the best lines ever written in a children's book; "Let's call him a small hero...doing quiet deeds. The world needs more of those." Superbaby Max, son of superheroes Captain Lightning and Madam Thunderbolt, doesn't quite conform to family expectations. At least, not at first... As ever, Bob Graham's books are deceptively gentle, but resonate powerfully for years after we read them.
8. Zagazoo by Quentin Blake
All of life is here, skewered under the pointy pen of one of the finest illustrators ever to grace the pages of children's books. From babyhood – "a strange-looking parcel" - through the wailing bat and warthog years to the "strange hairy creature" of, I assume, teenagehood, Blake makes us see ourselves, in the words of Burns, "as others see us". And thanks to the power of Mr Blake's pen, when I look in the mirror these days, the image that greets me is that of a pelican. Damn it.
9. The Lorax by Dr Seuss
I have to confess that I'm not a Seuss fan. Can I say that without being lynched? As a child, the drawings used to annoy and confuse me and thus, I never warmed to the books. The drawings still annoy me, but oh - this text - this should be required reading as part of the national curriculum. Here, in a nutshell is what went wrong with capitalism. Or, here in a nutshell is why we cannot keep on having infinite material expansion in a finite world.
And finally, since we're on that subject, I'd like to mention
10. All the World by Liz Garton Scanlon and Marla Frazee
Lest we forget; the world is a beautiful place. "Hope and peace and love and trust. All the world is all of us." An affirmation, if you will. Life is precious. We are family. All the world is all of us.
