Towards the end of 2023, I turned down offers from publishers to illustrate books. I know, saying it out loud sounds bizarre. The texts were fine (not amazing), and I could have done something really nice with them, but I’ve been changing.
Over the last 8 or so years, I’ve worked on over 20 picture books. It’s been a huge learning curve and a lot of fun. I’ve worked with some of Australia’s most popular writers and some of Australia’s best publishers in children’s books and have been represented in all of that by one of Australia’s most generous and thoughtful agents. I’m so grateful for those 8 years.
But, I’ve needed to step off the treadmill for a while. Picture books are wonderful, and each one brings its own set of unique opportunities and challenges, but it’s not art, it’s design. There are pre-defined consumers of this work – children, parents, publishing editors and, the ones with the most power, retailers.
All of these audiences want something – more diversity, a female lead character, some nice language that matches up with a syllabus in school, a pretty cover for a bookshop display – the list of these needs go on. I enjoy finding ways to meet these needs through a picture book and using the medium to represent a truer version of Australia than has been historically represented. I learn a lot along the way. But, with a pre-defined audience and set of needs, one always ends up problem solving for them, not for one’s self.
There’s no room in the picture books to ‘re-invent the medium’ or to try something genuinely new. Especially in Australia where the market is tiny the business models that support picture books don’t allow for this sort of risk-taking. Sure, you can try a few different things here and there, but the spectrum of possibility is narrow when it comes to making, marketing, and selling these things to the various audiences that will pay for them. “New” ends up being incrementally derivative.
Retreating from the picture book world has been necessary for me to get back in touch with what I’m thinking and feeling about the world without viewing it through the lens of a children’s publisher. I believe in the power of books. I believe in the power of storytelling. But I also believe that capitalism isn’t a great medium for bringing diversity to the world. Finding truly original and interesting ways to express one’s self and tell a story is unlikely to happen when the question up front is, “How many copies of this will Big W buy?”
The work I’ve made over the last few months has been, in my own opinion, some of the best and most authentic work I’ve ever made. Some of it has been minimal, cute, and fit for a young mind. Some of it has been thoughtful, intelligent, and complex. Some of it has been kind of disturbing – depending on how you look at it. But these ideas don’t exist for commercial purposes, they exist for me. The internet lets me share them with folks who might be looking for something different; a story to inspire their child (or themselves) beyond what’s on the shelves at Big W. A story that might change the way *they* think about their relationship to the natural environment. A story a publisher can’t fit into their catalogue or schedule because it just won’t make enough money.
Thing is, I’m not in it for money. Never was. It’s one of the advantages of not relying on book work for income. And so, with that advantage, the main way I can help others is to make stuff I can afford to make. To tell stories into the gaping void that is the internet in the hope that they will connect with someone who’s curious (or poor) enough to listen.