Writing the Story Before Drawing the Story

I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. I was thinking about my children’s picture book. I thought, “This is tough going. It’s not flowing the way it should. My stylus feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. Am I losing it?”

The answer eventually came — I had broken a promise to myself. The promise was, “Write the story first, then do the painting.” I was avoiding the writing by telling myself that I had it all in my head. I resolved to put the story down on paper. Then I was able to sleep.

I feel weird writing. I haven’t written a story in 25 years. I’ve been writing almost every day for the last 20 years, but all of my writing has been about technology. There’s nothing personal in that stuff. I have to ask myself, “Can I still write a story?”

There was a stretch of decades when I continuously wrote fiction and even published a few things. I was going to write the Great American Novel, but I had a big problem: I couldn’t finish a book. I’d get off to a flying start and put years into a book, but with the end in sight, I would become hypercritical of my writing and lose all desire to soldier on to the end. I’ve been hauling my manuscripts around for years. They’re all huddled together in a cardboard box downstairs, just waiting for me to get my head on straight and finish them.

It turns out that writing the story for my third children’s picture book is as hard as any writing I’ve ever done. But this time, it’s fun.

Chore Day, Dec 28, 2019 - A Day for Deep Thought

I’m thinking of my book. The publication date will be Dec. 31 and I have three days to pull it all together. With time running short, I’ll do the print version first and the eBook will have to wait. My big concern now is that my book has many technical errors that will mark me as a rank amateur: the characters are drawn differently from page to page, the color palette changes now and then, the line work sometimes looks digitally slick and sometimes looks as rough as a pencil drawing. I can go on and on listing flaws, but I’ll summarize by saying, I’m concerned that my first book will be judged unforgettably amateurish.

Frankly, I’m scared to put my first effort on display. But there’s no way I can move on without publishing this first book, warts and all. I gotta do it.

Other than endlessly mulling over my future as an artist, I did some cooking. I baked a batch of vegan bean burgers for my furry children, and put together an interesting Bolognese sauce for myself. After hours of excessive self-examination and kitchen work, I suddenly felt deeply exhausted. I took a restorative snooze, and when I woke up, all was well again.