Why I'm writing picture books

Talking psychics, career change, and "the greatest form of literature"

The other day, I borrowed BOATS FOR PAPA from our neighborhood library. It’s a picture book about loss, and how we grapple with its emptiness and finality. I’m always curious to see how authors handle such big, weighty topics in children’s books, so I immediately placed it on hold after reading about it here.

The story? Ooh boy, is it a tear-jerker. But it’s also a perfect picture book.

On the afternoon I brought it home, my daughter found it on my desk. I don’t always share my “research” picture books with her, but this one was so beautifully crafted that I agreed to a read-aloud that evening.

After I’d read the story’s final, gut-wrenching line, I turned and looked at her. She was quiet.

“What did you think?” I asked, tentative.

We’ve talked about death before, what with our dog Lucy and my grandmother both dying during her lifetime. And because the answer to her question, Mama, where is your dad? yields only one, unavoidable answer.

Still, I was on alert for her observations.

She touched the book’s pages, burrowing a little deeper into her pillow. Then she said, “It’s sad. But it’s beautiful.” Her voice was full of emotion.

“Yes,” I said, “Isn’t it amazing what a picture book can do?”

She asked to hear the story every night for another week.

Hello, happy Thursday. This week I’m sending something different, and quite personal: a look at my work beyond Substack, with plenty of angsty career lore, real-time updates, and a big dose of vulnerability, too. You know me as that gal who sends collages and missives about perfume, but did you also know that outside of this newsletter, I’ve been working on picture books for the past 18 months? Yes, children’s picture books!

How on earth did I end up working on picture books?

It’s simple. A psychic told me I would.

Right, ok, let’s back up a bit…

This is my first-ever letter for paid subscribers. If you’ve been enjoying the newsletter each week and have been thinking about upgrading your subscription, it’s a great week to do so!

The paid part of this newsletter includes:

• A personal history of my previous design studio work, and my (gnarly) transition out of it

• Why I decided to start working on picture books, of all things

• What the work means for me, career wise

• My current path to publication, and where I am in the process

Just below this intro—and above the paywall—I’m sharing some insights into the art and business of picture books, a.k.a., “Are you sure this is a good idea?” This includes:

• How picture books work (it’s not as simple as it seems!)

• How picture books get published

If you don’t want to upgrade your subscription, no worries at all. You can read about picture books below, then keep an eye out over the weekend for my next edition of Souvenirs, which will have plenty of links to get lost in.

Ok, let’s get to some interesting tidbits about this most alluring of art forms.

I was at a conference for children’s book writers last fall, and one of the speakers—an agent and author—declared picture books the greatest form of literature. Honestly? I can’t say I disagree. A good one masterfully merges art, design, and story. When I first started drafting manuscripts, I assumed penning a picture book would be as simple as writing a story (albeit a very short one) with themes and takeaways spelled out for a younger audience. And sure, you can write a picture book like that. But it probably won’t sing.

In the beginning, my initial stories were far too long. As a form, a picture book should unfold over 32 pages. Yes, they can be slightly shorter, sometimes a little longer, but by and large, the form is 32 pages, plus end pages and a title page. In today’s market, most stories also have a meager word count. Think 500 words meager. I can’t tell you how many seminars I’ve been to where agents said they want texts under 600 words. 800 words? Oof, it’s gonna be a tough sell.

What’s the #1 question I receive when someone learns I’m working on picture books? Easy:

Are you illustrating it, too? The answer: No. I am a designer, but decidedly not an illustrator. I can make layouts and set type and produce digital graphics and art direct until the end of time. Can I draw a human face? Absolutely not.

The follow-up question: Do you get to pick the illustrator for your book? Highly unlikely! Instead, when a text is sold, an editor will select (or pitch) an artist for the project. There are occasional exceptions, of course. Some publishers allow authors to make suggestions for illustrators. And very seasoned picture book authors have more say in the chosen illustrator, with author-illustrator pairs who write a hit more likely to be paired together again.

But generally speaking, as an author-only, I have little control over the illustrations and final layout, which means any art direction I’m married to must take place IN THE TEXT, either via a funny mechanism called art notes, but ideally in the copy itself.

For example:

“The next day, he built a lemonade stand on the sidewalk in front of his house, and painted it yellow and red.”

Even with a sentence like this, there is no guarantee the color palette will stick. If the eventual illustrator inadvertently colored the lemonade stand purple and green, and the editor loved the look of it, guess what? The copy will change.

All these limitations, so little control over your final piece of work, AND YET:

Drafting picture book manuscripts is by far the most exacting, puzzling, exhilarating creative form I have ever worked on. It’s similarly thrilling to uncover truly great picture books, which is why you can catch me in the kids section of our local library at least once per week. I live for discovering a book that hits the perfect story beats and makes you snort or cry with laughter (or both!), all in 32 pages. Truth be told, I have uncovered some of the most profound, provocative, moving pieces of art in these slim, beautiful books.

With that rave, here are some other fun facts about picture books:

• All things considered, they are a relatively new literary form. Read this great newsletter about Wanda Gág’s MILLIONS OF CATS if you want to learn just how recent.

• So you’re the next Dr. Seuss, and you’ve written a fantastic rhyming story. Here’s the thing: rhyming texts are hard to sell, because it is difficult to translate rhymes, thus limiting the global selling potential of your book. Many agents and editors won’t entertain rhyming works at all.

• Picture books have a very long lead time from sale to publication date. If I sold a book today, it’s possible it’d arrive in late 2026, but 2027 is more likely.

• Text-only submissions are also harder to sell. Many agents who rep picture books sign author-illustrators only.

• You write a perfect picture book manuscript. You pitch it to an agent. They love it. YAY! Except, they want to know—do you have three more ready? Are all of those salable? Unlike a novel or memoir, when you pitch your picture book, you need an arsenal of other, equally good works right behind it. So you’re never fretting over a single work, you’re fretting over your entire portfolio.

Who would pursue such a competitive, particular, finicky industry?

ME! Yes, all this, and I still want to write picture books. All this, and I can’t help but wonder if I have found a calling. Picture books are where design, art, words, craft, heart, and legacy meet. I am obsessed. Am I also crazy? Maybe. But as ever in my life—and yours too, for that matter—all roads led to this particular moment.

How did I get here? Sometimes, you’re called to a thing, and sometimes, the thing finds you. In my case, it was a little bit of both.

Many of you have followed my work over the years, from the blog to the eventual studio that designed websites for a decade. Then the pandemic hit, and everything changed.

Let’s take a walk down memory lane…