In Diary of a Worm (2003) and Diary of a Spider (2005), Cronin and Bliss make two of nature's least-appealing creatures into perfectly charming journal keepers. Just as likable is their new diarist, a young fly decked out in a fetching red bow, who first appeared in Spider's diary. The hopes, fears, and daily concerns Fly sets down seem worlds away from kids' lives: Will Fly be considered odd at school for her predilection for regurgitated food? What's the best way to deal with her 327 siblings? As one who eats horse manure, has 4,000 lenses in each eye, and can walk on walls, is she better than the superhero she dreams of becoming? Even so, children may well find a certain familiarity in the emotions underlying Fly's words. Bliss' colorful cartoon illustrations are the perfect counterbalance to the humorous irony in Cronin's text. Like its predecessors, this diary is a crowd pleaser.--Enos, Randall Copyright 2007 Booklist

(Preschool, Primary) Readers of Diary of a Worm (rev. 11/03) and Diary of a Spider (rev. 11/05) could guess that Diary of a Fly would not be far behind, and, sure enough, here is the third in the series of books about a trio of diminutive friends. Like the others, this relays real-life information through humor ("What if I'm the only one [at school] who eats regurgitated food?") in a way that makes the facts memorable. Cronin uses her impeccable comedic timing throughout, as when Fly compares herself to a superhero ("I can walk on walls") and Spider then deflates her ("Your brain is the size of a sesame seed"). Bliss includes many witty details in his illustrations, with a set of additional pictures on the endpapers with captions that make them almost like supplementary cartoons. The short sentences and visual jokes make this a great selection for listeners and new readers alike.From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Worm and Spider have had their say, now it's time for Fly to take center stage. She frets in dated entries about going to school ("What if I'm the only one who eats regurgitated food?"), recording flying and other lessons, cutting up with her 327 brothers and sisters and especially yearning to be a superhero--despite her friend Spider's scorn: "Superheroes bend steel with their bare hands. You eat horse manure with your feet." Bliss contributes another set of cartoons that place small creatures with occasional identifying items of clothing (Fly's is a hair bow) in a big and not always entirely safe world. It's still a winning formula, and readers will come away, as from the two previous outings, with sore stomachs (from laughing) and surprising amounts of painlessly delivered natural history--plus Worm's sage and comforting closing observation that "the world needs all kinds of heroes." (Picture book. 6-8) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Cronin and Bliss follow up their bestselling Diary of a Worm and Diary of a Spider with a heroine so delightful it would be criminal to swat her. Fly, a purple girl with multifaceted green eyes, chronicles her childhood, from anxieties about the first day of school ("June 7: What if I'm the only one who eats regurgitated food?... June 8: Everyone eats regurgitated food!") to family issues ("July 23: I visited my aunt Rita today. She's been trapped on the wrong side of a screen for a week"). Tips on flying, such as "Leap backward when taking off," combine with grade-school concerns and problems of discipline. Fly's babysitter, a ladybug, can't manage Fly and her 327 brothers and sisters ("Mom says we were a lot easier to watch before we grew heads"), so she brings a hungry green frog and sits back to read Teen Bugs magazine. Because flies "beat their wings 200 times per second," "can see in all directions at once" and have amazing aerial powers, Fly fantasizes about being a superhero, though her friend Spider notes, "Superheroes bend steel with their bare hands. You eat horse manure with your feet." Bemused readers may be more inclined to agree with Worm, however, who reassures Fly that "the world needs all kinds of heroes." Cronin's spot-on humor and Bliss's uproarious ink-and-watercolor panels make Fly-and this third outing in the series-both irresistible and undeniably super. Ages 4-8. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

PreS-Gr 3-Fans of Diary of a Spider (2005) and Diary of a Worm (2003, both HarperCollins) will be thrilled with this latest mix of whimsy and scientific fact. Fly, a sassy insect with a red bow on her purple head, writes in her diary about her first-day-of-school worries (will everyone else eat regurgitated food?), the challenges of fly-school classes, a visit to her aunt who is stuck on the wrong side of a screen door, and playdates with her pals Worm and Spider. The ick factor is ramped up from the previous two books, which will delight buggy fans even more. Learning about the food chain according to Worm-an explanation illustrated by Spider's Grandfather holding a fork over Fly, as well as the ladybug babysitter's method of keeping a lid on mischief by bringing a frog along to keep order while she reads her Teen Bugs magazine-will have kids laughing out loud. Fly's dream of being a superhero and her doubts that she can be one is a feeling children will respond to-as well as Worm's encouragement when he tells her, "the world needs all kinds of heroes." As usual, the attention to detail (flies sitting on thumbtack seats at a toothpaste-box table in the cafeteria, Fly in her time-out is just glowing eyes on a two-page black spread) and a lively layout that has a comic-book vibe are sure to appeal. Hilarious.-Susan Moorhead, New Rochelle Public Library, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

AS far back as Aesop, storytellers have projected human traits onto creatures great and small. We know the most popular pairings by heart. Owls are wise. Mice are timid. Bees and beavers? Both busy. And yet the menagerie doesn't cover the entire messy map of human qualities; there are gaps. What, for example, is the animal archetype for ambition? Three new picture books offer unexpected candidates: a hippo, a fly and a guinea pig. Biologically, they don't have much in common, but all three protagonists are strivers, seeking glory that transcends species and status. Darlene wants to be a star. Darlene is a hippopotamus. These two things don't go so well together - at first. In Amy Schwartz's "Starring Miss Darlene," a winsome but clumsy hippo auditions for a theatrical production of "Noah's Ark." After her classmates are two-by-twoed into prime roles, Darlene finds herself cast as "the Flood." Her job is simple: don a blue robe, splash some water on the stage. Darlene stumbles and ends up baptizing the entire front row. The local theater critic, a pig with an upturned snout, looks pop-eyed as the wave sends his bowler hat and notepad flying. But none of this dampens his enthusiasm. He writes a review praising the play's "audience participation," with a special nod to Miss Darlene's "especially exciting" performance. Through two more productions, Darlene keeps getting tangled up in her own best efforts. She garbles her lines; her Sleeping Beauty oversleeps. Each time, the critic interprets her mistakes as creative genius. He finally declares: "A star is born." Schwartz's text is charming and hilariously understated. Her watercolor-and-ink illustrations are rendered in quiet pastel tones, but their humorous details - Darlene's cavernous, buck-toothed yawn; animals dressing up like other animals to play parts in "Noah's Ark"; a beret-wearing fox for a drama teacher - pack a hippo-size wallop. In the end, you have to cheer Darlene's unlikely success. Acting isn't for everyone, though. Just ask the guinea pig. In "Super Guinea Pig to the Rescue," a little guinea pig is peeved after the other household pets make fun of his favorite television show and its irrepressible hero, Super Guinea Pig, who he claims is his best friend. "Ridiculous!" says the dog. "You asked for it," the guinea pig declares. He creates his own superhero costume - a red napkin for a cape, a mask made from a black sock - and tries acting the part of Super Guinea Pig, bent on revenge, to trick his friends. But he's not so super after all. One misstep lands him in the goldfish bowl. The pets team up to save his life. The guinea pig admits that they're his true friends, not like Super Guinea Pig, who's just a character on television. "Super Guinea Pig" is a refreshing visual romp, with oversize trim and bright, boisterous acrylic and watercolor paintings by Nina Spranger. Clever spot illustrations are interspersed with full-page scenes. In one spread the guinea pig pirouettes across two pages in superhero regalia, brandishing a pin for a sword. Udo Weigelt's first version of this book was published in German. (How do the Germans say "Super Guinea Pig"? Try "Wundermeerschwein.") Though it's nice to see friendship win the day, the message comes across a little heavy-handedly. It also comes at a price: those know-it-all pets were right all along, and the guinea pig's flights of fancy get squashed. In "Diary of a Fly," the narrator thinks she has what it takes to be a genuine superhero. She doesn't have to act. After all, she can fly and walk on walls. Her eyes see in many directions at once. Fans of "Diary of a Worm" and "Diary of a Spider" will recognize the conventions behind the latest book from Doreen Cronin and Harry Bliss: a young bug keeps a journal of tiny triumphs and frustrations. The story is light on plot but teeming with funny vignettes that blur the line between entomology and early childhood. "Diary of a Fly" is also a wry reminder of how frustrating it can feel to be small: our diarist struggles through flight class, where she's knocked off-kilter by a Frisbee, and complains that she can't have her own room (with 327 brothers and sisters, that's a tall order). But superheroically, she keeps her spirits high through the final pages, where ambition is its own reward and she flies self-confident loops around the Chrysler Building. Jessica Bruder is a reporter for The Oregonian and the author of "Burning Book," about the annual Burning Man festival.