A Touching Story of Sibling Conflict and Understanding in a Recently Released Picture Book: Terrible Horses

Don’t let the title fool you. Terrible Horses by Raymond Antrobus, illustrated by Ken Wilson-Max (Candlewick, 2024) is a terrific new picture book, described by the publisher as a “sweet story of sibling conflict and companionship”. Despite a little pushing and pulling (how they initially handle their conflicts), Terrible Horses is actually a quiet story suitable for bedtime. It’s told from the little brother’s point of view, with simplicity (in all the right ways), making it appropriate for children ages 3 -7. For example, on the second spread (see below), the author succinctly captures a universal sibling conflict in five short declarative sentences! Most kids are familiar with the scenario (and if they’re not, they will be after reading!) — little brother admires older sister and older sister finds little brother pesky and annoying. In fairness to the big sister in this story, her little brother does jump on her bed without asking. Just saying.

Right from the start, the little brother makes it clear to the reader that when he and his sister fight, “We do not use our words.” After some pushing and pulling, he retreats to his room with his sketchbook and self-regulates (Yay for no adult characters in the story!) by writing and drawing stories about “terrible horses.” In his stories, he represents himself as the lone pony amongst the horses — who he identifies as “everyone else in the world.” Ugh. Epic gut punch. Don’t you want to pluck him right off the page and hug him?

One morning he wakes up and his book of terrible horses is missing. When his sister appears in his room, holding his sketchbook, he worries that she might be “galloping toward him” like the terrible horses in his stories, but to his surprise, she’s smiling. And then she’s apologizing. And next, she’s hugging him! The little brother frets that his sister has read his stories.“What did she see?” “Is she a terrible horse?” he asks himself. What could have gone terribly wrong instead helps each of them recognize and understand the big feelings they were both having. On the final page of the book, the sibling pair are drawing together. There are only three words, but much to notice and interpret from the illustration. Which leads me to one of my biggest take-aways from reading and reviewing this book.

The masterful way author Raymond Antrobus and illustrator Ken Wilson-Max worked in tandem to bring this touching story to life is a prime example of what those admirable experts keep telling us at kid-lit conferences. Antrobus narrates through the eyes of the little brother, within a minimal word count, using literal language, which makes this story accessible and relatable to our youngest audiences, including English Language Learners. Wilson-Max works his mixed media magic to add deeper layers. At first glance, you might not even notice the boy is wearing hearing aids. Although this could possibly be the reason he and his sister don’t “use their words,” this detail is exclusive to the illustrations, because it’s not necessary to understand the story. Personally, I think the mention of it would have distracted readers from the very heart of the story. Much of the underlying messages (Agency! Empathy! The incredible power of creating!) in this touching story are communicated through art rather than words. Exactly like the boy in the story. Genius.

Order your own copy here!

Bonus Author Bio: Raymond Antrobus is so much more than an incredible children’s author and award-winning poet. I can’t even begin to share all of his accomplishments in this post. He is a brilliant, remarkable human being who is making a difference in the world as an advocate for several D/deaf charities including Deaf Kidz International and National Deaf Children’s Society. I highly recommend watching this video. It’s something you won’t soon forget. Poet Raymond Antrobus reads his poem “Dear Hearing World” from his poetry collection “The Perseverance” (Penned in the Margins), shortlisted for the 2019 International Griffin Poetry Prize.