Revisiting roots and letting them grow

As a kid, I loved to read, play, and draw.

I spent countless afternoons at my desk, listening to tapes of Chinese folktales and Taiwanese vocabulary lessons while drawing in my sketchbook. When I was bored with that, anything from my treasured teddy bears to rocks, erasers, and cute pencil tops would entertain me as I made up stories for them on the spot. Summer afternoons were spent making "mud pie" outside and reading piles of books lugged home from the library in my mom's worn black-and-white checkered bag (alongside a tasty snack of course.)

Knowing that, it's probably not a surprise that at school, my favorite projects always involved books. In first grade, we made a "Things I like, Things I don't like" book. In second grade, we interviewed one of our parents and wrote a little book about their life growing up. Third through fifth grade, I wrote and illustrated my own stories about my beloved stuffed animals, and shared them in our school's Young Author's Faire.

Throughout all the play, writing, and drawing, I loved being immersed in a little world I had control over. I would make the facial expressions of the characters I was drawing to try to get a face right (really feeling it you know!), and filled up sketchbooks with characters, their interactions with one another, and the little moments of their day.

It was then I decided I wanted to write and illustrate children's books when I grew up.

But like any good story, there are brick walls and road blocks along the way for our main character. And she needs to figure out how to solve her own problems.

(Which is what's about to happen now, woohoo. But hang on—I'm getting ahead of myself.)

Brick walls are there for a reason.

As I grew older, practicality and needing money to live seeped into the equation. I worked hard in school, studied something that would get me a good job, and continued to work hard at my job to get good at it. And I'm lucky to actually enjoy what I do—I really do love being a product designer and a design leader where I work.

Except...that little kid is still inside of me, and I still want to write and illustrate children's books. Someday, I've always said. But it's been a few years now since I've started to explore this while working a full time job, and I've realized that someday doesn't just appear out of nowhere—you gotta work for it. You gotta lay the path toward someday, and start walking toward it now.

It's easier said than done though. Work gets stressful, life gets stressful, and then artwork and storyboards start falling behind. A draft gets punted, and that old book dummy from 3 years ago remains in your closet, waiting to be reworked. The blank page becomes daunting now, because you're out of practice drawing, nothing feels right, you don't know what to draw, and everything comes out looking all wonky, so you beat yourself up for it. And it's turtles all the way down from there.

But brick walls are there to show us how badly we want something. I'll credit that to the late Randy Pausch, whose Last Lecture I read recently, during the two months I was fortunate enough to take off work. I spent most of that time just resetting myself—drawing again, writing again, exercising again—reminding myself what's important to me, and identifying where I want to go, what I want to learn. I went to one of the two annual conferences the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) puts on. It was life-changing. And I joined a Facebook group called IlloStories, where each month a group of marvelous illustrators release a workbook of prompts and exercises to get our creative juices going.

It just so happened the prompt when I joined was to create two graphic novel pages telling a childhood story we were in.

I'd become interested in graphic novels in the past few years actually—during a week in 2017 when I was in SF for work, I went to the Cartoon Art Museum and saw Raina Telgemeier's exhibit showcasing her process on her work like Smile and Sisters. Another somewhat life-changing moment there where I left feeling so inspired to create a graphic novel of my own.

So, I started to dig. Dig into my childhood, and dig a little deeper. I followed my roots down—all the way down—yanked them up, and asked why (thanks for the advice, Meg Medina.)

And then, I found it.

I found my story. Something only I could tell. Something I had to say. Something I wanted to turn into a graphic novel. Someday.

That someday begins now.

I don't want to spend another 3 years sitting on what I have to say and share with the world, with children out there who are growing up in our complicated society, who have so much gift and potential and their own unique stories to tell.

That's why I've started a journey to help ignite my growth as a children's book author illustrator, to help me get the best I can do out there.

Through this process, I know I'll learn not only a ton about the actual graphic novel making process—but also a ton about myself as a writer, illustrator, and person trying to balance this meaningful side hustle alongside her full time job. I'm hoping to find a way to blend these streams of work sustainably into my day-to-day life long term, such that I can make progress in both my writing/illustrating career, as well as my product design career. Hey, one can hope right? 🙈

But in all seriousness, it's time that I make this happen.

I just need a little push. 💪

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Belonging: a letter to 8-12 year olds