AT THE KID TABLE

Rachel Michelle Wilson

Let's explore the world like we're sitting at the kid table -- the lives, work, and creative processes of children's book makers rachelmichellewilson.substack.com

  1. 07/08/2024

    13 things I learned from the great Wanda Gág

    Oh hi there! Yes, it is true; we are in August already. How is your summer going? If you find yourself feeling a strange combination of exhaustion and anxious energy, you aren’t alone. But I hope you are feeling like one of the strong blackberries growing on the bush I pass on my daily walk, or the happy, swimming seal I saw the other day, or like that first taste of a popsicle when it is a million degrees outside. Enough of me comparing you to random things, let’s get to the kid table vibes! Kid table vibes of the week Naming things Ever since moving to Washington (can you believe it has been over 6 months now?!), Aaron and I have been trying to name our house. When people asked us to describe it, we kept saying it is a blend of old vintage and modern cozy. And then we were like, “Oh yeah. That could work.” So we made it official. We named our house: Ol’ Cozy. I know, I know. We’re basically geniuses (genius-i?). I’ve come so far from those days-gone-by when I named my stuffed animals “Sealy” and “Dog.” Like I named the subscribe button “the big green button” for goodness sake. Oh by the way, did I tell you the main character of my debut picture book is named Bertie? So yeah, super good at names — like really creative. Like how’d-you-think-of-that-my-mind-is-blown creative. Anyway, the point is that naming things is hard, but I’ve discovered it connects me to my child self. So if you are feeling disconnected or isolated lately, try naming your toothbrush. You never know. A few more kid table vibes * Enthusiasm: The Enthusiast by Brad Montague — everything Brad Montague makes is infused with care and imagination and meaning; his newsletter always inspires me. * Playfulness: Fredrik Backman speech on creative anxiety and procrastination * Celebrating the weirdos: Waltz For Sweatpants dance (I am obsessed with any choreography by Tessandra Chavez) * Sibling rivalries: Okay, one more Tessandra Chavez dance (it made me cry) * Book recs: Between Words by Saki Tanaka to live in gorgeous worlds, The Museum of Very Bad Smells by Monica Arnaldo to stink up your nose with delightful scratch and sniff nostalgia, and Still There was Bread by Lisl Detlefsen and David Soman for a warm hug. And last but not least, the vibe of KNOWLEDGE. I’ve spent the last few months learning from the great Wanda Gág. You may know her as the author and illustrator of the book MILLIONS OF CATS which is the oldest picture book that has never gone out of print (published in 1928). But you might not know that, after her father died when she was 15, she used her art to pay for all six of her siblings to complete high school (That would be hard NOW let alone as a female artist in the 1920s). Or that she kept extensive and very personal journals her entire life — like this gal was DEVOTED — which included her unconventional views on marriage, motherhood, relationships, and creativity. If you are kinda curious (cough cough nosy) like me, these are fun. You’ll probably enjoy this study if you: * Need a reminder to trust your own creative voice. * Are seeking inspiration or the permission to experiment. * Have struggled honoring your creative voice while also making money, balancing learning from others and going your own way, or prioritizing your work while also cultivating relationships. My aim is limitless. That I will never reach it I know, but I'm going to get as near there as I can. That will keep me running all the rest of my life, believe me.  Read 13 things I learned from the great Wanda Gág on my website here. Or listen on Substack, Apple podcasts, Spotify, or basically wherever you get your podcasts. Trade-sies! Now it’s your turn. It’s that special kid table moment when you trade your dad’s famous chocolate chip cookies for your favorite fruit snacks. Wanna trade? Choose one or more kid table vibes to share in the comments! * What would you name the toothbrush? * What is the worst or best name you’ve ever given something? * What helps you feel enthusiastic on the hard days? * What is one way that Wanda Gág inspired you? A big thank you to the sponsors of this post Thanks to Whiskey Geraldine for our podcast music and Joanna Rowland, Marietta Apollonio, Saki Tanaka, Angela Pham Krans, Nyasha Williams, Pamela A Mathy, and Martha Brockenbrough for sponsoring this newsletter. Definitely check out their amazing websites and books! (Paid subscriptions are on pause at the moment while I catch up for the time I was away. Keeping things fair over here. I would never give you the smaller brownie. Never.) Alright, thanks for sitting with me AT THE KID TABLE today. I hope it filled you with inspiration and reconnected you with your child self in some way. And I also hope that, like Wanda Gág, you keep reaching. Until next time! As always I’ll save you a seat right next to me. Your learning-to-take-a-limitless-aim friend, Rachel This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rachelmichellewilson.substack.com

    24 min
  2. 03/04/2024

    Arnold Lobel and overenthusiastic handshakes

    Oh hi there! I hope you’ve had a lovely week. I’m happy to tell you that after our bat encounter, we’ve officially finished the full rabies treatment plan (a series of four different vaccine sessions). All that’s left is the bill (dun dun dun). But I don’t want to think about that right now, so let’s get to the kid table vibe of the week and learn some things from the great Arnold Lobel instead. Note: You can listen to this newsletter as a podcast above or read it below. The kid table vibe of the week: Overenthusiasm I’ve always been a little…overenthusiastic. Like I genuinely get so excited about so many things that sometimes I overwhelm myself. (I say this knowing just how ridiculous it sounds haha). For example, in middle school, I received an assignment to write an advertisement that we would eventually record for a real radio show. It was a group project, and my brain came alive with the unlimited creative possibilities. We even had the space to be FUNNY which is my favorite place to play. Well, let’s just say my classmates had no idea what to do with someone who actually cared and even (gasp!) enjoyed doing the assignment. If the definition of cool is apathetic (which it usually is), I was a hot potato in a sea of ice cubes. Now that I’ve given you just a glimpse into my own weirdness, you can probably imagine what I’m like at a couch store. Yeah? Okay, so picture my overenthusiastic self at a couch store. Sitting on everything. Touching all the fabric samples. Saying “ooh,” “aww,” and “I love it,” every few minutes. And after many couch store visits, Aaron and I had finally found the one. The salesperson who helped us was very nice (like we were having so much fun that she offered us Mexican food in the back room where the employees hang out because they were celebrating something that day haha). And BONUS: we knew it wasn’t gross salesman nice because we had already decided on the couch before talking with her. As we were finalizing everything and signing paperwork and all that, she shared how she was also a writer — a screenwriter actually — and had done some stuff in LA before she settled in Washington with her family. We chatted about her background and geeked out over writer stuff and, before I knew it, I felt so excited about her writer dreams that when she reached out to shake hands in congratulations for our new couch, I grabbed her entire arm. YES, I OVER-ENTHUSIASTICALLY GRABBED HER ENTIRE ARM, YOU GUYS. We both looked down in shock. Me at the strangest handshake I have ever given. And her for obvious reasons. I had no idea what to say, so what I said was, “Oh sorry, this kinda felt like a hug moment, and so I guess my handshake turned into an arm hug?” Thank goodness she laughed and was cool about it, but my face still turns bright red when I think about the moment my enthusiasm took over my body and gave a complete stranger an arm hug. So yeah, that’s how I am at a couch store. The big green button would never do something so embarrassing. This week at my desk… I’m working on my second picture book. Somehow I painted the most perfect pile of leaves, and I’m afraid I will never make anything else look this good! I’ve also been visiting bookstores to plan my debut book shenanigans (more on that as things get finalized). This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with Arnold Lobel! You probably know him because of the award-winning Frog and Toad series — some of the greatest stories of all time. What I love about Lobel is that within an atmosphere of gentleness, he explores the complicated — and sometimes downright terrifying — and he even leaves you there sometimes. But always with a sense of safety. Like in “Alone,” Frog takes alone time and Toad is terrified he did something wrong; the resolution of that story feels satisfying without diminishing the experiences or emotions of either character which is SO HARD TO DO. Or in “The Dream,” Lobel perfectly captures all of my greatest fears about success. It is daring and genius and speaks to my soul. Anyway, here are just a few things I learned from the great Arnold Lobel. (Even if you don’t read any more of this post, I hope that you’ll take a moment with Frog and Toad today!) Note: I found these nuggets in a written interview excerpt here and the only video interview I could find so far here. In this video, I found Arnold Lobel’s presence a fascinating combination of very serious and very playful. (He gave a sneak peek of a book he was working on at the time which eventually became the famous OWL AT HOME.) No matter how talented you are, you have to work hard. Arnold Lobel went to art school and started working in advertising agencies but hated it. So in the mid-1950s when “there really was not a children’s book market,” he went to employment agencies and said he wanted to illustrate. They told him there was no money in it. But he just couldn’t “get on the subway every morning and face the workaday world” anymore so he made a portfolio and “pound[ed] the pavements.” He said, “Unless your mother happens to be an editor at Harper and Row, there is simply no other way to do it.” Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like for financial reasons, but overall he wouldn’t recommend it. He had no luck, even with small publishers, and in about 1960, as a last resort and without much hope, he went to the “prestigious publisher” Harper and Row (known for the famous editor Ursula Nordstrom). They gave him a manuscript that entailed 64 pages of salmon drawings. Lobel said, “They wouldn't have dreamed of giving it to an artist who had any kind of reputation. But I did it and once I had my foot in the door and knew a few people, I was able to continue.” He talked about how he knew he needed quite a few books behind him before he could really support his family, so he would take illustration jobs he didn’t like. About that time, he said, “I had some very painful months because I've learned [that]…it's very bad to illustrate a manuscript that you do not really like and have faith in. It's a long process it can last as long as a year…To get up in the morning and crawl to the drawing table, illustrating this awful thing that you can't stand anymore, it's really very painful. That is why you have to be so careful in picking manuscripts that some other people have written. Of course, your own manuscripts you have no excuse for. You've got to like them.” Your relationship with your own work will change throughout your career. Insecurity: Because he started writing for financial reasons (double the royalties), he called himself “a trained illustrator and a lucky amateur in terms of writing.” He felt insecure as a writer which is why he always wrote his stories first. He said, “Pictures for me are the dessert, and I like to get the spinach over with first.” The conflicted impact of success: After he won a Newbery for Frog and Toad Together, he said: “I hope it doesn't make me self-conscious because up until now I felt very free about my writing because I've only used my writing as a kind of support for my pictures now that's all turned around in my mind I'm sort of in a state of confusion about it.” The rollercoaster of feelings: About his relationship with his work, Arnold Lobel said, “You always enjoy the book that you're going to be doing next. For a while after finishing a book you don't like it and then when it gets old enough you start liking it again. It acquires the charm of antiquity….we just live long enough and I’ll get to enjoy all my books again.” Feeling stuck: He talked about finding himself writing the same story over and over again — two characters in a frog and toad relationship. So he decided to try writing a story about one character all alone which led him to OWL AT HOME. You don’t have to work like everyone else. Your process is valid. He considered himself his own editor first and felt like representing the words and pictures together was the only way to see “how that book is working dramatically.” He said, “Everybody tells me nobody makes as finished dummies as I do. It's partly insecurity. I feel I want to do it right away and get it over with and it's half the work and it's kind of laziness really…I've done all my work ahead of time. Something I always like to do.” He also described how he doesn’t get new ideas for books while in the middle of making other books. He said, “Books do come easily to me when I'm working on them…but I let them sit in my brain for years before I work on them. I truly believe the theory that they're working in my subconscious and it's very odd. I'm rather like Mother Hubbard about books. If the cupboard is bare, I can work well. I can create new books.” Use your experience to come up with ideas for your particular medium. When asked where his ideas came from, he said: “Well, how does an adult author come upon an idea for a story? It's lifetime experience. It's just that I transmogrify everything to children because that's my particular medium. You know, if an adult has an unhappy love affair, he writes about it. He exorcises it out of himself, perhaps, by writing a novel about it. Well, if I have an unhappy love affair, I have to somehow use all that pain and suffering but turn it into a work for children.” Inspiration comes from keeping your eyes open. He said, “You have to keep your eyes open and your mind open while you're working—particularly in the beginning of a book—for any kind of inspiration any kind of something that can help you out.” Like when making the art for The Clay Pot Boy, all his sketches turned out horribly. He tried and tried and nothing would work. Until one day he saw a clay pot in his kitchen and suddenly realized it was the perfect model for his character and the book came togethe

    10 min
  3. 27/03/2024

    Judy Blume (and a bat in my bedroom)

    Oh hi there! How are you? I hope your week was a little more normal than mine because have I got a doozy of a kid table vibe for you. Let’s just get right into it (and follow it with the amazing things I learned from the great Judy Blume). The kid table vibe of the week is… Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast above or read it below. A bat in the cave (a.k.a. my bedroom) When sitting at the kid table, this phrase is either a joke you play on a friend or a seriously embarrassing realization or, for that one kid, a fully embraced situation. But for Aaron and me last weekend, this phrase took on new meaning. The discovery In the middle of the night on Saturday, we awoke to a fluttering sound. We thought, “Maybe it is something on our roof. Nah, it sounds closer. Maybe the attic.” But as my eyes adjusted, I could see the culprit of the noise: an erratic shadow darting above my head. Oh no. We had a bat in the cave (A.K.A. our bedroom). The reaction So I did what anyone would do in that situation…hid myself way down deep under the covers. (Is there anything more kid table than that?) Half-asleep Aaron stumbled out of bed barely registering me saying “bat” until he turned on the lights and yelped, “BAT!” With only a pillow in his hand to protect him, he dodged into the bathroom so he could better assess the situation. I didn’t see any of this because I was too scared to peek my head out. All I could get myself to do was call my dog to hide with me under the covers. Eventually the bat found a good resting spot on our curtains, and I found the courage somewhere deep within me to sneak past him and escape. The team (or lack of one) We read that if you wake up to a bat in your room, you are supposed to get someone to check for rabies. So we called animal control who told us they’d call us back soon. As we waited, we drifted in and out of sleep to bat nightmares until, six hours later—yes six—they finally called us back. We told the guy the situation and he said, “Why didn’t you let him out the window? Because it is light outside now, that’s going to be really hard for you.” I was speechless. He continued, “We could come take care of it for you. Our weekend rates are double, so $600.” I replied, “I’ll call you back” and hung up. The extraction Covered in raincoats and hoodies and armed with a large plastic container, we snuck the window open behind the bat, gave him a gentle nudge, and with a terrifying last attempt to fly at our faces behind the plastic container, he flew outside. And then… I never called the guy back. Because revenge. The aftermath It turns out when you wake up to a bat in the room, you don’t REALLY know if you’ve been bitten or scratched which means you don’t REALLY know if you have rabies which has a 100% death rate if not treated. So…you have to get an intense series of rabies shots. When we got to the emergency room to receive them, they said, “It’s too bad you didn’t have animal control come by to catch and test the bat for rabies. Would have saved you a lot of time.” … All I can say is, I am in awe of the nonsense that is life sometimes. I don’t have any wisdom to depart after this experience, but I feel like a changed person. I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batman. This week at my desk… I outlined a marketing plan to take over the world with my debut book (suddenly evil laughs have become the theme of this newsletter) and finished a color study dummy for my second picture book (I’m so excited about it!). Speaking of the debut, I just realized there is a batman reference in there! (Gotta keep the newsletter theme going, right?) Wanna see? This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with children’s book author Judy Blume! You probably know her for the famous Are You There GOD, It’s Me Margaret which was made into an excellent movie (seriously, I watched it twice and Blume herself said it is better than the book) or her many other New York Times bestselling books for kids (and adults). But you may not know that she has no sense of direction (something I share) OR that she is a bookstore owner OR that she has consistently been on the most frequent banned list throughout her career —which inspired her to become a highly-honored advocate for intellectual freedom. Judy Blume is a courageous kidlit legend whose books have offered a space for readers, especially women, to feel seen and respected. Here are just a few things I’ve learned from the great Judy Blume. 1. Having a creative outlet is essential to happiness and health. She grew up in what Blume called “a 50s family” — her father was a dentist and her mother was at home and she had one older brother. She describes how she identified most with her father because he was a creative person and a wonderful storyteller in every way. “He encouraged me that I could reach for the stars. Sadly he died when I was 21 and never saw any of this.” Her mother was anxious, shy, and private but gave Blume a love of reading. Their house was full of books and nothing was off limits. Blume on her love of reading: Judy Blume was painfully shy as a child (like her mother), then at age 10, she became more theatrical and dramatic. She said, “I never felt alone because I had everything going on in my head…I had a rich inner life that I never shared with anyone. I think that is how I became a writer and how I think many people become writers. It’s not so much the books; it’s the imagination.” For a while Blume was into acting, but she also felt pressure to go to college, study teaching, meet a man, get married, and become the president of the PTA. At age 21, she married a lawyer six years older than her whom she saw as “a grown-up” and they had two kids by 25. Suddenly she was living without the creative outlet that school provided her and it had a major impact on her physical health. Throughout her 20s, she battled “exotic illnesses” that nobody could figure out. But as soon as her book was accepted for publication, “that was the end of it.” She said, “It is so interesting for me to look back and see how writing changed my life, cured me physically, allowed me to soar emotionally and intellectually, gave me everything, really made me who I am today. And I don’t know what would happen to me if I hadn’t found that creative outlet.” 2. Take a chance on yourself with determination. As a young mom in the 60s, Blume made felt pictures, travelled to New York, and pitched them to Bloomingdale’s. She got $9 a pop, saved up $350, and bought herself an electric typewriter. At first, she wanted to be the next Dr. Seuss, so she wrote rhyming books, illustrated them, and mailed them to publishers. The mailman would share her sadness when she received rejections. But still determined, she signed up for a class at NYU on writing for tweens. She looked forward to every Monday night where she connected with others who shared her interests and received professional encouragement. About her teacher, Blume said, “She gave me so many rules for writing children’s books — rules that I broke right away — but she encouraged me.” Eventually Blume started submitting to publishers again and met her dream editor who asked her the perfect questions to open the floodgates of ideas. She left without a contract but with a request to revise and resubmit. He loved the revision and offered her $800. She responded, “I read somewhere that I’m supposed to get $1000.” He said, “Well, we want some place to go with the next book, don't we.” She still teases him about that. I love her gumption! 3. Telling the truth is more important than following the rules. As Blume began writing stories, she said, “I know all the rules, but I don’t care about the rules. I’m just going to go back and write what I remember to be true.” She felt more comfortable with her 12 year old self than her 30 year old self, and so that’s where a lot of her stories lived. She discovered she had so many stories inside her that she “went from book to book to book,” sending one off and immediately starting the next one. When Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret was published. It received some great reviews that encouraged her to believe she could really do this. She also received some negative reactions — like the male principal in her children’s school refused to keep her books on the shelves because they talked about menstruation. This was one of the first times she learned that, “If somebody in power didn't think your books were appropriate, they could be taken away.” Though her books sparked controversy, she didn’t set out to write controversial books. She said, “I didn't set out to do anything except tell stories as well as I could.” She would come home from the library with loads of books and sort them into piles of those she loved and those that bored her. Other fierce truth-tellers like her hero Beverly Cleary or Louise Fitzhugh or E.L. Konigsburg inspired her, and she wanted to write books that engaged readers like those engaged her. She wanted to write about puberty because she was obsessed with it as a pre-teen. She said, “I did all those exercises. I pricked my finger and put blood on a sanitary napkin to see what it would be like. I wore it to school to prove to my friends that I had my period. I lied about getting my period which I didn't get till I was 14.” So she wrote about her real experiences. Exploring true experiences that didn’t bore her was Blume’s guiding light throughout her career. For example, in a time “when women were not supposed to write about men” or write “from a boy’s point of view,” she did because she loved learning about being a boy. Or when after reading books for older teens that portrayed a lot of harsh sexual consequences, her daughter asked her, “Couldn't

    12 min
  4. 13/03/2024

    Well, it's about that time. (Dun dun dun!)

    Oh hi there! This month, I hope you’ve been marching to the beat of your own drum with a hint of madness. So far my March has been filled with exciting art style epiphanies for my second picture book, a gal pal party, some Jason Reynolds inspiration, and kid table vibes like… Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast or read it below. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time Many a kid table squabble was started by someone putting their foot in their mouth. Recently we had a guy come over to give us an estimate for gutter protectors and oh boy did he put his big foot in his big mouth. In the end, HE was the one needing the gut-ter check. Buh dum psh. (Like I always say, you get what you pay for here at the kid table.) Let’s set the scene… I was in the groove working on that second picture book, so like the amazing wife I am, I sent Aaron in alone to answer the door and talk to this man. Luckily I could hear every word from my office perch upstairs. INT. Our house — Day The man looks at our gutters, then sits down with Aaron. Tells him a bunch of gutter stuff using a bunch of gutter jargon. And then.. MAN: So what do YOU think a good price for this would be? AARON (awkwardly): Umm…I don’t know. MAN: No really. AARON: Okay, a couple thousand I guess. MAN: Oh uh, well actually it’s $10,000 but I can get you a good discount. Right now it is 30% off. But you’d have to tell me before 9PM tonight. (Says some more jargon). AARON: Okay, I’ll talk to my wife and let you know. MAN: What do you think she’ll say? AARON: Maybe? MAN: How long you been married? AARON: Almost seven years. MAN stares at Aaron for an uncomfortably long time. MAN: Well, it’s about that time. AARON: Time for what? MAN: You know, most marriages only last about five to seven years. I told my ex-wife, “I gave you seven good years.” MAN chuckles like there was an actual joke somewhere in there. AARON: Uh… MAN: So yeah, that 20% discount should set you up nicely. Only as long as you tell me by 8PM. Aaron tries many tactics to get MAN out the door as his wife laughs upstairs. END SCENE Okay, so I know one of my recent posts was all about lying for a living, but I DIDN’T MAKE ANY OF THIS UP! Needless to say, when the guy called us that night at 7:30PM, we didn’t answer. Last week I got to sit at the kid table in person with two of my favorite gal pals. If you’ve been following this newsletter for a bit, you’ll know that I’ve opened up a lot more to female friendships in the last few years. I was a bit wounded due to a few damaging female relationships and closed up my lil’ heart. Then, after some therapy and soul-searching and a rediscovery of my love for children’s books, I started to meet kindred spirits who made it feel easy to open up again. I got to see two of them last week, and their celebration of each other as creators and people was beautiful to witness. The talented author and community builder Natasha Tripplett has a debut THE BLUE PICKUP that just came out (buy it here!). The nurturing, bright, pun-loving Martha Brockenbrough interviewed Natasha with her personal touch (buy her books here!). Powerhouse books made by powerhouse women. Happy Women’s History Month! This week I’m sitting at the table with author Jason Reynolds. You may have heard of this Newbery Honor winning, New York Times best-selling author for his books like Look Both Ways, All American Boys, and Long Way Down. Or maybe his incredible service as the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. Or maybe even his famous late night show appearances on Stephen Colbert, Trevor Noah, Jimmy Fallon, and more (I included some links so you can hear him talk about anxiety as a super power, his craft, book banning, and the cool car he drives). But you may NOT know that he read his first novel at age 17, that he loved writing before reading due to Queen Latifah, that he did a podcast on Radiotopia with his mom, and that he actually doesn’t want his books to be read in 40 years from now. I’ve read every book he’s ever written — watched hours of his spoken poetry and interviews — and he’s inspired me in every way. Here are just a few things I’ve learned from the great Jason Reynolds. Give readers a space to feel seen (and do it in an engaging way). Reynolds didn’t read growing up because he didn’t see his own life reflected in books. When describing what changed this, he said, “It was in the ownership of my own story that my life was sort of expanded. It was in the honesty in my own experiences that made room for me.” Creating work that “helps young people feel cared for” became one of his major creative drives. To him, caring for young people means writing stories that make them say, “Yo, this feels real. Feels like me. Feels like the people I know. Feels like things I’ve heard about.” I love his philosophy that caring for readers means giving them a space to feel seen. But he also just wants to get kids to read. Period. Which is why his number one goal is written in big letters across his website: “HERE'S WHAT I DO: NOT WRITE BORING BOOKS.” The big green button also tries to achieve this goal but is unfortunately limited to the same one word each time. The best way to encourage kids to read is to tap into the stories they have within them. Reynolds says one of the worst ways to get a kid to read is to tell them to read. Instead it is more powerful to encourage them to share the stories they have within them. The video below talks about how he encourages other people’s stories but also how he got into stories. And one of my favorite moments is when we learn that he loves to crochet :) Write the complicated stuff, because kids deserve books that reflect their actual lives. While some creators believe that children’s literature is limiting, Reynolds argues the opposite. He says that young people have “a sense of wonder and a sense of curiosity and a sense of innocence and a sense of preciousness and a sense of fear and anxiety that adults tend to mask. There's an imagination that adults tend to lose.” And though some will tell you that “you can’t say this or you can’t say that” in children’s books, Reynolds writes about whatever he wants to write about, “no matter how traumatic or how complicated it is. I write about that because that's the lives of children in America today.” This is exactly why he doesn’t want his books to be read in schools 40 years from now. I always say if my books are still being read 40 years from now…as the books that are introducing young people to literacy in schools, I failed. 40 years from now, we ain't figured out new books yet? Language is living, it's growing, it's expanding, it's changing, it's evolving. People are living and growing and changing and expanding and evolving. Books have to continue to do the exact same thing…in order for them to see eye to eye with the young people they're trying to engage with. Simple as that. Remember the power you have off the page, a power that comes from being present with those around you. What I love about Jason Reynolds is that he respects and loves his readers both on and off the page. You can tell he actually HEARS them. Their stories. Their worries. Their joys. In fact, he carries them with him. I remember a kid in Philadelphia once looked me in the face and asked me if I ever wish my skin was different. I carry her a lot because I think about how these books have an opportunity to let her know that it's okay. That we're okay. And that not only should we be all right with who we are, we should celebrate it. I come from a people who was never supposed to read and here I am. Writing. I come from a legacy of people who weren't supposed to be here, so to look that little girl in her face—I think she was like nine—and to pour into her and to let her know that she's much bigger than she could ever know, that the codes that come along with this skin, the history that comes up— oh, she has no reason to be ashamed. One of the many things I admire about Reynolds is how present he is with his audience. If you have the chance to attend one of his events, I highly recommend it. You’ll be blown away by his poetic words, his thoughtfulness, and his presence. The white space is just as important as the words. If you’ve listened to or read anything by Jason Reynolds, you know this guy is an amazing poet with a fine-tuned sense of rhythm. And when he writes, a major part of his process is thinking about the space in between his words. When you use space or you use the page, you can kinda create your own sort of score with the white space… A box. A heavy box. is different than… A box. A heavy box. He says that all his work — his writing and rewriting — boils down to trying to achieve the right rhythm. The white space between words is a tool he uses to encourage the mind to create that rhythm. I recommend putting that in your writer’s craft tool belt. And one last thing to inspire you… If you want to see everything I’ve talked about — his rhythm, presence, and power — I highly recommend watching this video. You’ll feel seen in your brokenness and your imperfect steps toward achieving your own dreams. He acknowledges both the pain and the joy of walking your authentic path in such a beautiful way. As you can see from everything I have included (it was so hard to stop here!), Jason Reynolds is an author to spend your time reading. He is vulnerable, honest, and inspirational. I hope you consider buying one or more of his books (you can find and buy them here) as they are SO GOOD. A big thank you to the sponsors of this post! Thanks to Whiskey Geraldine for our podcast music and Joanna Rowland, Marietta Apollonio, Saki Tanaka, Angela Pham Krans, and Nyasha Williams for sponsoring this episode. Definitely check out their amazing

    10 min
  5. 28/02/2024

    3 things I learned from Margaret Wise Brown

    Oh hi there! How is your February going? You know, I thought February would feel less sloggy than January, but I’ve struggled all month to do basic things like eat and sleep. It is times like these that I need to remind myself to take life a little less seriously and enjoy the small moments which brings me to the kid table vibe of the week… Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast or read it below. Things that sound made up but aren’t! Have you ever heard of Restless Leg Syndrome? It sounds so fake — I wish it was —but it is very real. Unfortunately I have the genes for RLS which means I often can’t fall asleep until three in the morning. Womp womp. I like to imagine back in the olden days (before 1995 when the diagnosis became official) when my ancestors were trying to describe what was happening to them and nobody believed them because it sounds absolutely ridiculous: * “My leg just feels like it has to move all the time right when I’m about to fall asleep. Like it has a mind of its own.” * “It hurts but not like a normal pain. Like an irritating pain on the inside of my leg and the bottom of my foot.” * “One time I was on a flight and I had to take my shoes off because they were making my feet feel claustrophobic and my leg feel jumpy. Also I wanted to take my pants off because that helps it feel better but I didn’t.” I mean imagine how that last one would go… So yeah, that’s how it feels and lately it has been really bad. (I see you playing your tiny violin.) And yes, like my ancestors before me, I have to take my pajama pants off because they are making my legs feel jumpy. (I see you abruptly stop playing your tiny violin, unsubscribe from this newsletter, and leave the room.) All this to say, you can blame the lack of sleep for this absolutely unhinged newsletter. The big green button wants to make it clear that it had nothing to do with this and has no further comment. Anyway, thanks for the space to chuckle about it. On a hopeful note, after not being able to fall asleep until seven in the morning (it sucked), I finally tried melatonin again which hadn’t worked AT ALL for me as a teenager but actually helped this time! It’s a February miracle! I feel like a new person. This week at my desk… I got to review the proofs for my debut picture book HOW TO PEE YOUR PANTS (THE RIGHT WAY), and they look so good. Thanks to all those who have celebrated this book with me so far; some of you have even preordered copies already which means the world to me (and actually helps me look good to my publisher hee hee). This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with children’s book author Margaret Wise Brown! But before we dive into that, I just wanted to let you know that though I’ve appreciated all that I learned from the SUPER thorough studies of children’s book creators, they’ve taken a lot out of me. So I’m simplifying just a bit. Instead of collecting a million things, I’ll just focus on 3-5 things I’ve learned which will reduce the podcast episodes to about 10 minutes — a quick dose of kid table vibes and creative inspiration. I’m a bit nervous about this shift as those long posts were my most popular and most shared. But I hope you will also like the more bitesize version, especially because I know you are busy and reading the long posts is quite the commitment. Onto learning from the great Margaret Wise Brown! You probably know Margaret Wise Brown for Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny, but you may not know that she had a well-known feud with famous children’s librarian Anne Carroll Moore (who actually hated Goodnight Moon) or that she was heavily influenced by Gertrude Stein (whom she later helped publish a children’s book called The World is Round) or that she was engaged to a Rockefeller when she tragically passed away at the early age of 42. She is one of the most intriguing people in children’s books, and I can’t wait to give you just a glimpse of her fascinating life and point of view. A few fun facts and anecdotes She was born in 1910 (not a super fun fact but important to give you an idea of the timeline haha). She worked at the Bank Street Experimental School where she researched language—specifically repetition and sensory details which you’ve probably noticed in her books. Goodnight Moon was not a huge hit when it was first published but became a word-of-mouth sensation over time. I found this description that I love: “Brown thought the book was successful because it helped children let go of the world around them piece by piece, just before turning out the light and falling asleep.” She loved fur (like really loved it) which inspired her book Little Fur Family, illustrated by Garth Williams. In the picture book The Important Thing About Margaret Wise Brown written by Mac Barnett, the illustrator Sarah Jacoby created bunny characters for parts of that book because Brown loved a woman named Michael Strange (her writer pen name), and they called each other “little bun” in their letters. I stumbled upon a wonderful, quirky book of hers that I’d never read before called They All Saw It which is hard to find but luckily Barnett did a read aloud. An NPR feature described Brown’s “dramatic and tumultuous love affairs with both men and women” and her interesting relationship with her audience. Some say she didn’t like children, which could be true, but as we learned from my previous post, Maurice Sendak also said he didn’t like children but then contradicted it in a million ways. Either way, Brown was at the very least fascinated by children and was super in tune with her own childhood. Brown’s death was very sudden and strange and sad. While in France, she had to get an ovarian cyst removed. After a few weeks, she was feeling better, and the nurse came into check on her. Brown kicked her leg up to show how great she felt which dislodged an embolism in her limb that went straight to her brain. Months later, she passed away suddenly at the age of 42. (I learned this from the book Wild Things! Acts of Mischief in Children's Literature which has all sorts of interesting stuff about children’s book creators.) Three things I learned from her life, work, and creative process 1. A great story is a combination of the predictable and unpredictable. From What Writers Can Learn From ‘Goodnight Moon’ by Aimee Bender: “Goodnight Moon” does two things right away: It sets up a world and then it subverts its own rules even as it follows them. It works like a sonata of sorts, but, like a good version of the form, it does not follow a wholly predictable structure. Many children’s books do, particularly for this age, as kids love repetition and the books supply it. They often end as we expect, with a circling back to the start, and a fun twist. This is satisfying but it can be forgettable. Kids — people — also love depth and surprise, and “Goodnight Moon” offers both. This analysis rings true for me. I think I return to this book over and over again because of its combination of comfort and mystery. The following quote sums it up perfectly. (I discovered it in one of my all time FAVORITE articles about Margaret Wise Brown by the talented Taylor Sterling. If you haven’t subscribed to her newsletter MOONBOW, consider this a sign.) 2. To write the truth, you must be in tune with the reality of your audience. In her essay Writing for Five-Year-Olds (read the whole thing if you can — it is amazing!), Brown said that there is “one final determiner or denominator that gives the writing truth or falseness, and that is the reality in which the writing is concerned. So what is a five-year-old child’s reality and concern?” She said one way to know that answer is to connect with our inner five-year-old. If we are writing for these delights and interests of five-year olds we must remember them and experience them in our stories. And another thing. No matter how important we know little kittens and steam engines to be to a five-year-old, no one can ever write about them without a real love for them and familiarity with them in some form—actual or remembered. When I was learning about the children’s book industry, I received a lot of advice like your book needs to have trucks or boats or animals or bright colors because kids love those things. Some kids do love those things BUT if I don’t love them, I shouldn’t write a story about them. My best work has happened when I find something I love that intersects with what a child loves (especially if it is what little Rachel loved). If we’re not sure what a child loves, Brown encourages us to ask them! What do they play when they are alone? What do they laugh at? What makes them sad? And what do they want to know? These are the things to find out. These and any number of others are the leads to get from five-year-olds themselves. I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking that whole “I don’t like kids” quote is a bit more complicated ;) 3. Respect children’s books as real literature. If you can’t tell just how much Brown respects her reader, let’s continue our journey through her wonderful essay. When a child reaches the age of five, he is the sum total of all his younger experiences and discoveries in a brand new world….For the first time, he has the power of words, to use them and to hear them, to describe the things that his five-year-old senses perceive. He has his feet firmly enough on the ground now to go bouncing off on the most hilarious flights of imagination and to sympathize with and be curious about situations not his own. Here then is a challenging age to write for. Children’s books are treated like children are treated. When we dismiss children’s books as something less than “real” literature, we also dismiss children. And why should not a child's story submit

    11 min
  6. 21/02/2024

    My debut cover reveal (part two)

    Oh hi there! I just want to say thanks for all the support you showed me for the HOW TO PEE YOUR PANTS (THE RIGHT WAY) cover reveal last week. Today I’m revealing the answers to the two truths and a lie poll and sharing my super embarrassing pee pants story! The big green button has never peed its pants but it has done a lot of empathy work so I know it is there for me. That time I peed my pants (one of the most kid table vibes there is) Alright so last week I told you all about my debut cover and outlined the process of making it and we played two truths and a lie. Wanna see how you did? Here are the options: * Bertie the bird’s glasses were based on the glasses I wore as a kid. * I peed my pants in the middle of class in first grade. * After I peed my pants, I had to wait in the office for my mom to bring me clean clothes and, before I could sit down, the office lady bubble-wrapped the chair. TRUE: Bertie the bird’s glasses were based on the glasses I wore as a kid. This is me. This is the cover. You wanna know the crazy thing? It was completely subconscious. Only when a critique partner said after seeing my kid photo, “Oh, now I understand why you put glasses on your characters” did I see it. One of those moments when a dear friend understands you more than you understand yourself. FALSE: I peed my pants in the middle of class in first grade. Keep reading to see where… TRUE: After I peed my pants, I had to wait in the office for my mom to bring me clean clothes and, before I could sit down, the office lady bubble-wrapped the chair. And now for the SUPER EMBARRASSING pee my pants story to set the record straight. THE MOMENT It was first grade and I was an expert bladder controller. (Basically I had the equivalent expertise of air traffic controllers but with controlling my bladder.) This was because I was terrified that if I went to the bathroom during lunch, I wouldn’t be able to find my friends since the playground was so big. So I would hold it. And hold it. I was very good at holding it. Hi, this is psychologist Rachel coming in to analyze things in the middle of a story because I can’t shut my brain off. Did you catch the glaring abandonment issues here? Yes, they would take years of therapy to unravel, but I wanted to come in and ease your mind that NOW Rachel can successfully walk through a playground alone. Though she doesn’t do it often just in case it looks creepy. Okay, let’s continue. Even the best bladder traffic controllers are human. Unfortunately my moment arrived during recess when I was standing in a circle of friends. It was basically set up like a Shakespeare play at the globe theater — every seat in the house had a great view to the show. And the show was me. I still remember the moment the dam broke. I audibly said, “Uh. Oh.” — like I was in slow motion — emphasizing each syllable so that those who might have been looking at the sky or observing a bird on a tree wouldn’t miss the big event. I remember mouths dropping open. I remember the sound of the whistle to line up after recess. I remember being afraid everyone would see as I lined up. Somehow I had the sense to sneak away to the front office to call my mom. Because she worked full-time, I needed to wait for some clean clothes. As I started sitting down on the office chair, I heard, “NOOO! STOP!” It felt like a gust of winter wind had frozen my wet pants into place. I watched in shame as the office lady pulled out a large roll of bubble wrap. She wrapped the chair many times, secured it with tape, and then said, “NOW you can sit.” Alright, that’s it. I’m just going to leave you there with those emotions;) “Umm…hi, this is psychologist Rachel interrupting yet again to say that Rachel doesn’t really like things left unresolved, often to a fault, so she would never ‘leave you hanging’ as the kids say.” Ugh, get out of here psychologist Rachel! But yeah, she’s right. It took a long time for me to be able to talk about that experience with people. Until I had a sleepover with a bunch of friends years later and one girl laughed so hard, she peed her pants. Soon all of us were telling our pee pants stories and laughing with each other. With every laugh, the shame melted away. Fast forward to a few years ago when I had an epiphany. Maybe I could channel the laugh-with-ourselves energy into a story inspired by my own embarrassing moment. Maybe I could turn something sad into something funny. Maybe I could write the book I wish I had when I peed my pants. HOW TO PEE YOUR PANTS (THE RIGHT WAY) is that book. I hope it brings that “laugh with ourselves” energy into your home. I hope it dissipates the shame. I hope it reminds you that you are never as alone as you think. If you or someone you know would like some “laugh with ourselves” energy, my book is available for preorder now! Thanks for sitting with me AT THE KID TABLE today. Until next time! I’ll save you a seat right by me. Your potty-dancing-her-way-through-life friend, Rachel This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rachelmichellewilson.substack.com

    6 min
  7. 13/02/2024

    Do I tell lies for a living?

    Oh hi there! Thank you so much for opening this newsletter today because I’m sharing something very dear to my heart: MY DEBUT COVER REVEAL! If you will permit me to make this an “experience,” we’re going to start with an appetizer that gradually builds to the BIG REVEAL main course. And finish with a lil’ behind-the-scenes dessert. Sound good? Let’s get this feast going! Note: You can listen to this as a podcast episode (with a bit of additional commentary) or read it as a newsletter below. An appetizer of kid table vibes Doing something just for fun. No productivity allowed! Aaron and I have been watching the show Taskmaster thanks to a rec by the lovely and talented Isabella Kung. This show is so “kid table” at heart, and I’m OBSESSED with it. We’ve been watching the British one in which the “mean,” hard-to-please Taskmaster (Greg Davies) judges five contestants (often comedians) as they complete meaningless tasks prepared by the Taskmaster’s Assistant (Alex Horne). It is absurd and hilarious and creative—basically everything my inner child loves. Telling truth and lies One of the show’s contestants was James Acaster who has a comedy special on Netflix called Repertoire; of course, I had to watch it. In four episodes, James plays a lot with truth and lies. Like he builds the first episode on the idea that he is an undercover cop posing as a comedian (which is hilarious for so many reasons including the fact that as he talks about his life, like comedians often do, he endangers the entire operation). I chuckled as I watched because 1) he is hilarious and 2) I’m tickled that people actually tell lies for a living. In fact…I lie for a living. Even better, I lie TO KIDS for a living. What a job. What a life! The big green green button is wondering where I’m going with this. Shall we make this even weirder? Let’s. I also tell the truth for a living. WHHHAAAAATTTT? Little kid me would be super confused. She was taught that lying was always bad and that you should always tell the truth. So lying can’t ever be good, can it? Lies and truth can’t exist at the same time, can they? Reading fiction: the best kind of lie I’ve loved fiction since the moment I popped out of my mom. My first word was “book.” My grandma always told the story of me pointing to a book for her to read, then we’d finish, and I’d point to another—one by one until we finished all the books we owned. When I watched James’s special —the way he played with truth and lies— I realized one big reason why I love fiction so much. Yes, it is entertaining. And interesting. And fun. And it allows me to explore people and places and things and ideas. But it also offers clear boundaries and expectations. Being in on the lie Ah, boundaries. I love ‘em. Crave ‘em. Probably because I didn’t grow up with a lot of ‘em. People would say one thing and do another. Lots of half-truths. Lots of confusing emotions. So where did I go for comfort? Fiction. In fiction, I was in on the lie. There was an expectation right off the bat. You are entering a fake world — a lie of sorts — but a purposeful one. A thoughtful one. Even a fun one. You could enter it and leave it whenever you wanted to. There would be structure. There would be expectations created and fulfilled. And ultimately there would be lots of emotional truth to gather along the way that would leave me feeling understood and valued. When I opened a book, this very natural dialogue would happen under the surface: Storyteller: Hey, I want to explore an interesting emotion or idea and I think the best way to do it would be through a lie. Would you be alright with that? Me: Yeah, normally I really hate lies because they leave me feeling powerless. But somehow you letting me know beforehand makes it feel empowering instead. Like I’m in on it. And because you are being upfront about it, I’m trusting that you’ll offer me a purposeful experience. Storyteller: Cool. Didn’t that dialogue feel like something someone would really say in a conversation which is not contrived at all for the purposes of getting a point across in a newsletter? No, but it was fun to pretend that I thought the dialogue was natural when really you knew I was pretending because that’s the joke. I “lied” to you but you were okay with it and maybe even enjoyed it because I gave a hint that I was lying. Being in on it makes all the difference. And oh boy is that dynamic fun. For someone who really hates lies, I sure do love them. So yes, I hate real lies. I really really do. But I LOVE playful lies (otherwise known as fiction) that offer a consensual experience (okay, that phrasing kinda sounds like I’m talking about something else but I think you get what I mean). To me, a book is like a shared contract between the storyteller and reader. And I take that contract very seriously, especially when crafting my own “lies.” Which leads me to the reason why I’ve been pondering about all of this lately…MY FIRST CONTRACTED LIE! A quick palette cleanser Before I reveal the cover, I just have to take this moment to make fun of myself. Rachel: Really Rachel? A cover reveal that is all about how you lie to children? Rachel: It was kinda…fun, right? Surprising? Rachel: Let’s call it “innovative.” Rachel: How do we live with ourselves. Now that that’s over with, onto the reveal. The main course cover reveal Duh duh duh-duh! I’m so excited!! I can’t believe my book is actually real and that I’ll be able to hold it and read it to kids on October 15. In the meantime, I thought it would be fun to give you a little taste of my book’s origin story in the form of… Two truths and a lie, of course! In the true spirit of Taskmaster, let’s play a silly game. Can you spot the lie? * Bertie the bird’s glasses were based on the glasses I wore as a kid. * I peed my pants in the middle of class in first grade. * After I peed my pants, I had to wait in the office for my mom to bring me clean clothes and, before I could sit down, the office lady bubble-wrapped the chair. I will share the results and answers in next week’s newsletter! Oh, and while you’re waiting on the edge of your seat, you could preorder my hilarious lies at your local independent bookstore! (Maybe you’ll even discover some emotional truth in there.) A lil’ behind-the-scenes dessert Making a cover is really tricky (for me anyway), and this is the first real one I’ve ever made. I had a few cover goals, and I can only hope I achieved at least a few of them: * I wanted the title to be big as it usually makes people laugh and would help set expectations at a glance. * I wanted the cover to capture the essence of the book which is all about the tension between a serious “How to” voice and absurd comedy (mostly in the illustrations). * I wanted readers to immediately connect with my main character and his situation. * Overall, I really just wanted people to laugh. Now the biggest debate was Bertie. I knew I wanted to capture that universal “I’ve got to go” stance, so I sketched a bunch of Berties in different poses. I asked myself questions to help me make decisions. Eyes opened or closed? Bertie in a setting, on a chair, or by himself? I tried to push myself to capture even the weirdest of ideas because they usually teach me something. Like this mugshot looking one made me laugh and helped me realize that I liked him better with his eyes open. I also realized that though the wet spot is hilarious, I wanted to protect his dignity on the cover since peeing your pants is so vulnerable. There is a difference between laughing WITH someone and laughing AT them, and I wanted to create an environment that guides the reader into the experience as a friend to Bertie. I like the pose I ended up with because the eye contact creates tension and communicates Bertie is in an emergency situation. But it also feels like Bertie is showing trust in the reader with a vulnerable “Help me!” — an invitation to be there for him. To be his friend. To laugh WITH him through the experience. BUT then I got in my head and worried that Bertie alone on the cover might be too boring. Sometimes “simple” feels scary as it is hard to trust that it is enough. So I experimented with some other fun things. I’m glad I did because that image with the potty dancing Berties in place of the Os and A ended up becoming the title page inside the book! After sending my favorite ideas to my editor and art director, they loved this direction. Next I needed to experiment with color and type. The solid color background didn’t feel right. It captured the silliness of the story but I also wanted to capture the semi-serious “how to” feel of the book. So I played with a border which gave it a hint of an educational vibe. The combo of an absurd title with a serious border felt like the perfect way to capture this book’s essence. So yeah, that’s how this cover came to be! Alright, thanks for sitting at the kid table with me today. I hope you enjoyed the meal. I had a lot of fun making it. Until next time! I’ll save you a seat right next to me. Your trying-not-to-pee-her-pants-in-excitement-about-this-book friend, Rachel This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rachelmichellewilson.substack.com

    12 min
  8. 07/02/2024

    13 things I learned from author-illustrator Ashley Bryan

    Oh hi there! Is it just me or did January feel like a million year slog? Normally I start the year with “Let’s make this awesome!” energy, but 2024 has begun with more of a “Let’s make sure we actually get out of bed” energy. Luckily my focus on cultivating kid table vibes has energized me on the challenging days. Just in case you need a little boost as well, here are some great kid table vibes from me to you: Day dreaming (and night dreaming) I’m a huge fan of Andy J. Pizza and his Creative Peptalk podcast. He recently shared this post on the importance of dreaming. Rather than rush into “setting intentions and defining goals,” Andy has decided to spend the beginning of the year dreaming. He calls it DREAMuary. I love it. Day dreaming is something I do regularly. But night dreaming? I’ve always had insomnia and I hardly ever remember my dreams (unless they are super stressful). In the podcast, they talked about how if you write down something about your dreams when you wake up, even a fuzzy feeling or “I don’t remember my dream,” you’ll start to remember more. So I’m trying it. Because why not! I’m curious: do you value dreaming? Do you remember your dreams? Creative play When I’m feeling creatively uninspired, it is usually because I’m struggling to maintain a spirit of play. I’ll be honest, December and January have NOT felt naturally playful for me. But I’ve found a few ways into play anyway: Creating something not tied to my job. I’ve felt really energized by house projects lately. I mentioned in a previous post that we redid our closet which felt amazing. And set up a stand up desk. And this week we painted our living room wall a cozy dark blue. Here is a “before” and a “during” pic (I’ll eventually show you the “after” pic when it is indeed after.) Scheduling play time with other creators. I’ve started attending coworking sessions; not only do they offer dedicated play time, they also leave me feeling inspired by things other people share. Relieving pressure by changing up my medium. I tried acrylic paint on tracing paper. It was weird. It was fun. It got me to paint without worrying about the end result. And the BIG thing that consistently helps me is to “fill the well” with creative inspiration which why I try to sit at the kid table every week with someone new. That would have been a great natural transition if the big green button hadn’t interrupted it. This week I’m sitting AT THE KID TABLE with children’s book author-illustrator Ashley Bryan. You might know Ashley Bryan for his colorful artwork and his many award-winning books like BEAUTIFUL BLACKBIRD and FREEDOM OVER ME. You might NOT know that he served in the Segregated Army during WWII or that he witnessed renowned cellist Pablo Casals break his vow of silent protest against a fascist dictatorship or that he was described as a quiet force who opened up opportunities for black creators and other marginalized groups throughout his career. If you had the chance to witness an Ashley Bryan read aloud, you were one of the lucky ones (I wish I was a lucky one!). He read poetry like music, tapping his foot and clapping his hands, and his signature sound was an “uh huh” that punctuated the rhythm of his books. Kids loved to participate in his story times. He had a great respect for kids as artists and dedicated his life to encouraging them. In this post, we’re going to dive into his life, his work, and his creative process. And oh boy will you come out of it filled to the brim with inspiration! Note: You can listen to this as a podcast episode or read it below. Learn from the greats: Ashley Bryan 1. Knock on doors until you receive encouragement. Ashley Bryan was born in Harlem, New York in 1923. His parents were immigrants from the island of Antigua (and interestingly Bryan would later choose to live on a island). He grew up in the Bronx with his dad, mom, five siblings, and three cousins. His dad loved birds and often brought them home (like hundreds of them!) and both his parents loved music. His mom was always singing and his dad would play a variety of instruments with buddies. He credits these moments as one of the reasons why he loves to “emulate” and “celebrate the craftsmanship of others.” Bryan fell in love with art very early. About this time, he said, “Children often ask me the question, ‘Did you win big awards?’ And I always tell them, ‘Yes, I’ve received many wonderful awards along the way. But the greatest reward was when I brought my little ABC book home from kindergarten (he made it himself) and my mother hugged me and my dad spun me around and my friends and family all clapped…It was on that recognition and on that support that I built.” His parents supported his passion for art in other ways as well. He said, “When I was very little, I began drawing right off. I can’t remember a time when I have not been drawing and painting. And at first I initiated it like a child. I drew on the sheets, on the walls, on the floor, and my dad said ‘No no no no, you draw on paper,’ and he brought home paper from the print shop where he worked.” His parents couldn’t afford art classes during the Great Depression, but when the government offered free programs, his parents signed him up. He often expressed gratitude for supportive parents and teachers, but also understood some kids don’t receive that. He said, “I tell the children you need encouragement to grow. If you don’t get it at home, knock on your neighbor’s door. Keep knocking on doors until one of them opens up and encourages you because the things that you enjoy doing which are creative, that’s how you grow…Keep going until you get that encouragement.” 2. Surround yourself and your kids with books and art. One of the ways Bryan developed his talent as an early age was by going to the library. Bryan and his siblings would fill empty orange crates in their home with library books and pretend they had their very own home library. Bryan often said to kids, “I know you go to the public library, you go to your school library, but are you building your own home library?” He encouraged kids to make their own home libraries in any way they could, because “Books in the home are very valuable and an important thing through life.” He also advocated for kids’ access to art. He argued that as children learned one art form, it gave them strength they could carry into other challenges and other areas of study. This is why he felt that when art programs are removed, it “leave[s] a child floundering with no sense of achievement in any area.” He continued, “There’s no question about the arts as a part of being human and being a whole person. And it’s unfortunate when they begin cutting programs in the arts because they are essential really if you are going to create a citizenry that you can be comfortable with, who will be contributors to a society…you’ll pay much more later when you’ve cut those programs out.” 3. Pay attention to those who have “turned the book aside.” About reading, Ashley Bryan said, “It is one of the most creative things you can do, to read, because you engage the mind when you read. You create the scene. You create the instant. You can create the action. Everything about it is being created. And that’s why I’ve always said, a child who will…spend any time with a book, engaging actively in that way, creating a world out of those words, you don’t have to worry about them. It’s those who have turned the book aside, who have nothing to do with books anymore, those are the ones we have to work with and try to bring into it.” But how exactly do we do that? Bryan had a brilliant strategy. 4. To get someone excited to read, you must teach them how to listen. Bryan believed every text has “demands for the voice that the words on the page will ask.” And that, “the printed word in the book has a voice just as the printed note in music has a sound.” But he noticed many elementary school children had “dissociated the sound of the voice with the printed word.” They would only “pronounce the words” without hearing the voice or getting “the meaning.” He felt the best way to help kids was to “associate the excitement of the voice with the book. That will bring them into becoming readers.” Bryan would often do an exercise with kids in which he’d read a poem the opposite of how it should be read. A fast-paced poem in a slow voice. A soft poem in a loud voice. Things like that. He said, “the students immediately see that you may be a good reader but the poet is not asking for that voice. So I try to demonstrate right off the importance of listening for the sound of the voice in the printed word. Because then the words are speaking to you. And when words are speaking to you, you are actively engaged. And then you get meaning…That is my emphasis wherever I go. Listen for the sound of the voice in the printed word.” 5. You can transform your challenges into a way to help people. Ashley Bryan knew at age 16 that the only way to art school was to get a scholarship, so he applied. He said their response was, “This is the best portfolio we have seen but it would be a waste to give a scholarship to a colored person.” Thankfully, his high school art teachers encouraged him to apply to Cooper Union where the entrance exam didn’t require them “to see you” and he was one of 50 people chosen for the program. He studied painting, calligraphy, sculpture, book illustration, and more. He eventually became a teacher and provided the same encouragement he received to many students. One such student at Dartmouth College said, “It was such an inspiration to see Ashley break down all kinds of barriers – race, gender, and even biases about art itself – in the most gentle way. He made a safe p

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Let's explore the world like we're sitting at the kid table -- the lives, work, and creative processes of children's book makers rachelmichellewilson.substack.com