It’s always been my intention to write and illustrate children’s books. I’ve been banging on about it for what feels like the whole of my life. It doesn’t matter how long, really – I do think everything happens in its own good time, when all the factors are right. I don’t know exactly what’s been holding me back though – perhaps a fear of not being good enough, or a worry that I’ve got nothing new to say, or that I can’t draw the pictures very well. Or maybe not as well as so and so, that famous person, or such and such that acclaimed artist.
Of course I can’t! And nor should I want to. They are them, and I am me. I must do it in my own way, as only I can, respecting my own self, and waiting to see what happens. And I have stories coming out of my ears. And so I’ve made a solid plan of action, with dates on it, and have written nudges to keep me accountable, in my diary. I’ve settled on a story, and thought it all out from all angles. I’ve got preparatory sketches, scribbled notes, endless corrections and a list of characters. I’ve even enrolled two critical editors – children of a friend – who are giving me excellent, welcome, open feedback as only small boys can. It’s a super good start, and I’m excited. Here’s a new friend from the story, in her first iteration – a skippety chip, Olivia.
She’s just one of the gang; a bunch of dreamers who are thinking big, and I love them all, and am giggling as they come out of my paintbrush.
I hereby promise – both you and myself – I’ll get it finished and send it to an agent.