Fans of children’s literature will know that 2025 has been a wonderful and powerful year for picture books. We’ve seen new perspectives on old stories, both modern and long-ignored issues addressed fearlessly, and adept artistry that approaches young readers as the curious, changing, and thoughtful people that they are.
And while the “Best Picture Books of 2025” could contain dozens (if not hundreds) of titles, for the purposes of this article, I’ve narrowed my choices down to the ten books I could not stop recommending this year. In no particular order, here are our ten picks for the very best picture books of 2025.
Don’t Trust Fish by Neil Sharpson, illus. by Dan Santat
This book has been making a lot of appearances on the “Best of” lists this year, and those who have perused this laugh-out-loud treatise against finned fiends know exactly why it’s been such a hit: it’s just that flippin’ funny. With sharp, thoroughly unserious text by Sharpson in his children’s book debut and pitch-perfect satirical artwork from the reliably brilliant Santat, Don’t Trust Fish is a comedic delight that begs for repeat readings and dramatic renditions.
For a Girl Becoming by Joy Harjo, illus. by Adriana M Garcia
While there are plenty of wonderful entries yearly into the “milestone” subcategory of picture books—titles that celebrate a child’s growth from birth to adulthood—For a Girl Becoming is a story that breathes new and resonant life into the genre through Harjo’s lyrical poetry and Garcia’s stunning art. Inclusive of all young girls’ journeys yet deeply rooted in Indigenous American cultures and belief systems, this empowering hymn of family and community love for a child is, like the eternal ties to man and nature it evokes, both ageless and timeless.
Aggie and the Ghost by Matthew Forsythe
Being a massive fan of Forsythe’s previous picture books, the delightfully dark Pokko and the Drum and Mina, I was looking forward to this book (I even had the opportunity to interview the author-illustrator for Bookstr, which was a real treat). And I was not disappointed: Forsythe’s signature dry wit and rich, atmospheric artwork are on full display in Aggie and the Ghost, but so too was a deep tenderness and warmth that was a pleasant surprise. To me, this tale of unexpected friendship, boundaries, and compromise is perhaps Forsythe’s best yet.
Broken by X. Fang
Like Forsythe, Fang is an author-illustrator whose catalog is small but mighty; her marvelous We Are Definitely Human was a smash hit in 2024, and she’s followed it up with another slightly exaggerated yet profoundly relatable story. Fang deftly employs visual and textual artistry to perfectly capture the universal childhood feelings of anxiety over a broken item and the guilt of a white lie (of omission, in this case), then perfectly dovetails this into a lovely lesson on compassion.
The History of We by Nikkolas Smith
There is a persistently problematic issue of not only Black history but the history of humanity itself being told through the lens of colonization and Whiteness, but The History of We smashes through these constructs with radiance and grace. A reclaiming that centers on the unassailable fact that all humans ultimately trace their lineage back to the African continent, Smith reframes the narrative of civilization and its earliest artists, explorers, and philosophers to the origins we all share.
The Interpreter by Olivia Abtahi, illus. by Monica Arnaldo
For those who share the experience of The Interpreter’s protagonist, this title hits like a hammer from its second page: “Nobody talked about Cecelia’s second job. They didn’t even acknowledge it. That’s how special it was.” Perfectly poised between the pride of a child eager to assist their family in grown-up ways and the acknowledgement of the strain such a “second job” can place, Abtahi’s words and Arnaldo’s sumptuously expressive illustrations celebrate and empathize with these young multilingual heroes while encouraging them to remember that their voices are also their own.
When I Feel Lonely by Britta Teckentrup
This was another title in which I had the privilege of interviewing the author-illustrator, and when I received my review copy, I was blown away; while all of Teckentrup’s emotion-centric When I titles are beautiful, this may be the best one yet. Empathizing deeply with the overwhelming feelings of loneliness that can manifest in childhood—when social circles and exposure to new environments can be limited—Teckentrup guides her readers through a barren forest of isolation, never patronizing and always offering hope, as well as the message that we are never truly alone.
After: A Survivor’s Story by Hallee Adelman, illus. by Patrick Corrigan
With all due respect to its creators, I hate that we live in a world in which this picture book must exist, and that its story applies to so many young people. However, with 229 incidents of gun violence at schools in the past year alone, After is a book that is sadly, tragically, yet sorely needed right now. Adelman and Corrigan approach an impossibly difficult subject with fearless honesty and empathy, walking through the after-effects of a “Horrible Day” and empowering survivors and allies of all ages to enact change. It’s a book that is immediately necessary, and while I hate that it must exist, I am glad that it does.
Wanda Hears the Stars: A Blind Astronomer Listens to the Universe by Amy S. Hansen and Wanda Díaz Merced, illus by. Rocio Arreola Mendoza
Despite glowing reviews, this brilliant biography of blind astrophysicist Wanda Díaz Merced appears to have slipped under many radars, and that is a tragedy. Not only is a stunning story detailing the fortitude, ingenuity, and altruism of Díaz Merced, a disabled woman of color absolutely revolutionizing accessibility in STEM, but it’s also a wondrous ode to the awe-inspiring beauty of the cosmos we all share. Add in passionate prose by Hansen and luminous art by Arreola Mendoza, and this one-of-a-kind biography deserves to be on every bookshelf.
Snow Kid by Jessie Sima
Occasionally, a picture book comes along that perfectly encapsulates something universal in a way that makes me wish that every child—past, present, and future—could have a chance to read it. For me, this year, it was Snow Kid, a gentle and meditative consideration of what it means to grow, change, and become oneself.
It’s hard to define the magic of Snow Kid: is it the soft, playful illustrations? The impossibly endearing protagonist? The subtle visual themes that invite those questioning their identity to feel seen? The warm reassurances that exploring identity is a natural part of human existence, and that no matter what changes, you are always you? Tough to say. All I know is that I love this book, I cry when I read it, and you should read it, too.
Those are my picks for the 10 Best New Picture Books of 2025! What an incredible year in reading it has been. I hope you check these books out with your young readers, and be sure to come back next week for my Top 10 Middle Grade books! Happy reading!
The Baby Bookworm 