Kids at Heart

We know the odds are against us, but still we dream on. My friend, Dan, and I are hammering out a concept for a kids’ picture book, he as illustrator with me as author.

What artist and/or writer haven’t toyed with the idea at least once in their life? What parent for that matter? Dan is a creative director at a recruitment agency and a father to a boy, 6, and a girl, 4. I am a home-based freelance writer and photographerwith 4-year-old twin boys.

An artist and a writer: it’s a winning cocktail… Or is it? Surely we have what it takes to crack the publishing nut, but then comes that ever-familiar waft of self-doubt. I suffer from it and I’ve come to recognize it in Dan, too. Largely self-taught, we live in a society with a tendency to judge worth by the letters behind one’s name, and the framed documents on one’s walls.

Last night, after kissing our kids goodnight, we slipped out of our respective homes and met at the ‘poor man’s office’ – the local coffee shop. I asked Dan: “Are we Great Pretenders or can we do this thing?” Dan’s answer was both simple and honest: “I just want to draw and paint. What I’m doing with you allows me to perhaps realize that dream.” Then he smiled and added, “And I want to have fun.” I took a sip of my peppermint tea and flipped through a sketchbook he’s had for years. There’s a pencil drawing of a bird. Beside it he had written, “Lone some” (sic) and inside the bird was scribbled the word “blue.” On the next page is a rendering of a zany mouse wearing a top hat and smoking a cigar.

That’s the emotional side of this venture. The hard, cold, factual side is this: publishing houses like KidsCan Press receive 1,000s of submissions per year all vying to attract the eye of an overworked editor; like a little league hockey game, competition in picture books is fierce.

Still, Dan and I try, try and try again. We bang out copious emails back and forth chock full of exciting updates (“I’ve got a new twist to the story”); we offer suggestions for improvement (“the brothers need to reconcile”) and encouragement (“great perspective!”). We bump into each other at our kids’ daycare, and as we tie shoelaces and zip jackets, we toss around exciting ideas (“let’s put the bunny in a bike trailer!”).

Only two months ago Dan and I were virtual strangers. But through a curious chance meeting - not at the daycare but rather on our respective family vacations as the only Canadians in the relatively obscure Floridian panhandle - we now share something incredibly personal: a quest and a dream.

What’s at stake here is twofold: 1. Can we see this venture through? Is our desire stronger than our self-doubt? 2. Through our actions, can we show our kids one of life’s great lessons: that you truly never know until you try, and that the only thing worse than failing, is not trying at all.

The “something happens” moment will come after we submit our story and await word from prospective publishers. It’s the moment of truth. And perhaps we can convince an editor from a publishing house to weigh in.

~ Sherryll