The gestation of a picture book

Last week, my very first advance copy of Bella And Stella Come Home arrived in the mailbox. I'd already seen galleys and received the F&G's (short for "fold & gather," basically an unbound copy of the book used for marketing purposes) but nothing compares to that moment when you hold the actual book in your hands and turn the pages.

Creating a book is long process from conception to publication—the initial scribbles and sketches for Bella were created in late winter and early spring of 2009, when Chris and I were chatting with our editor about new picture book ideas. All we knew then was, we wanted to do a story about a little girl, and perhaps a special toy or friend. We wanted her to be multicultural (like our own daughters and so many children today) and to reflect some universal childhood experience.

These early development stages are honestly my favorite. It helps to have a creative partner as talented as Chris. Sitting in our kitchen, we batted around ideas and as we talked, he sketched. Watching Chris work, seeing an idea we're discussing emerge with such extraordinary immediacy onto the sketchbook page never ceases to fascinate me.

In contrast, after we brainstorm, my work seems solitary and organized—though that's just how I like it. I go away to my desk after we've discussed our ideas, and begin to sort them all out. Phrases come to me. I type. I revise. I get a solid first draft together and I bring it back to Chris.

At this point, we're volleying and I've just lobbed it back, because now Chris must go and find the main characters. Who is Bella? Who is Stella? What do they look like? He takes a first crack by creating character sheets.

The "Bella" that ultimately ended up in the book is closest to the little girl with her hands on her hips in the center of the page.  Chris aged her down slightly in the final art, and added those two glorious high pigtails you see on the book jacket.  Bella has such presence and spunk, we all fell in love with her from the drawings. 

Notice Stella is wearing a shirt.  In the final art, the shirt is gone because we decided that since Stella is shown both as toy and a full-sized elephant, we needed her to be consistent, and Chris didn't want the distraction of clothing as she went back and forth from "toy Stella" to "big Stella."

For this project, we were fortunate to have our editor, Patti Gauch, on board right at the concept stage, and the next step was sending her a rough draft and development sketches.

The first order of business was getting the manuscript in top shape. One of Patti's practices is to read your piece aloud to you, which is both intimidating and exhilarating. A well-written manuscript on Patti's lips is like a fine piece of music played by a gifted musician—it comes more fully to life in her voice. Conversely, if there are awkward passages, lines that don't scan quite right, you recognize them right away. I do this for myself with a manuscript, but when Patti reads it, somehow, I can always see and hear the words more clearly.

I had great fun molding the piece into something I was truly proud of, with her help and gentle guidance.

As I hold the very first copy of a new book in my hands, it's enormously satisfying to reflect on how it sprung to life. My good friend Mary Jane Begin playfully calls new books "book babies" and in a way, that's a totally apt description. They are a labor of true love.

Next, we'll turn our attention to getting the word out, to crossing our fingers that store owners want to give it a place of prominence on their shelves when it releases on November 25th, and most importantly, to hoping children connect to it, and that in reading it, they see a bit of themselves, and want to read it again and again.