About these children’s books

I’m going to do a thing

I hunted for children’s books that my son could read and illustrate himself but to no avail. Then I realised I was onto something. Gradually, I replaced my Mum hat with a work hat…and began to research children’s literature and child development.

My most significant memory of this stage of product development was learning just how poor representation in children’s books was…is. I realise now how privileged this makes me. Sometimes we don’t want to see things. It’s not an excuse, and I’ve vowed to do better.

For example, a study by the Centre for Literacy in Primary Education (CLPE) and funded by Arts Council England found that of the 9,115 children’s books published in the UK in 2017, only 391 – that’s 4% – featured a minoritised ethnic character.

As for physical disabilities, neurodiversity and any other minority group, they are also grossly under-represented in children’s books, especially when it comes to central characters.

I can’t speak of how it feels to be racially profiled, so I won’t even attempt to. But what I can see but can’t understand, is that if children’s literature is an essential tool for education – and I’m sure most would agree that it is, then what are we teaching our children if they can’t relate to the protagonists of their favourite children’s books?

I’d urge you to look into the groundbreaking research of the incredible Rudine Sims Bishop on this topic. Her work and insight are an education in themselves.  

What I can speak of, to some degree, is the topic of ableism.

​My youngest son is a non-predominant neurotype. He was identified as autistic and ADHD when he was five years old and has many “comorbid” conditions. He also has one of the most abundant imaginations of anyone I’ve known.

Since my youngest son’s diagnosis, we have learned that we are a very neurodiverse household. I know that language, support and acceptance are vital. And that assumptions based on initial perception are rarely helpful and often damaging.

We have to do better.

Eventually, I decided that if it didn’t exist, and I thought it should, I couldn’t be the only parent to see the value in books that children could illustrate themselves. So, after lots of anxious procrastination, I stopped hoping someone else would make the books, and set to work on making them myself.

I was going to do a thing.

I was writing and designing a series of fully inclusive books that give children the chance to put themselves into the stories and onto the pages in front of them, whilst having a lot of fun along the way.

There was something else. Since I’d begun delving into the world of children’s literature, I’d been studying the information our children receive daily, and that’s when I started looking into the power of affirmations, breath work, mindfulness, connected parenting, and slow living.

Our children don’t remember a time before phones and tablets. They will only ever know their parents as plugged in and connected – always available. Emails, social media, messaging services, the ability to order a Viking costume at 2 am when you’ve woken in a sweat and remembered that thing at school – it’s a stroke of modern genius. It’s also utterly exhausting.​

Life has become one huge shouty spectacle – and it’s constantly streaming. So I decided that Picture-This Books™ would do its bit to offer an alternative. One that inspires children to steal their time back and spend it in a universe of their own extraordinary creation.

The Imagination Garden was the first title in the Picture-This Books series, and was finally released in November 2019. Two years after that initial lightbulb moment in Northern Ireland.

Gone to my desk

2021 was essentially the year I spent at my desk. And I loved it. Since I was a little girl, my imagination has been my sanctuary. So, two years of Covid and lockdown meant a lot of writing. In 2021 I wrote and released the following three books in the Picture-This Books series.

Not Black and White – the story of a partially sighted zebra and a hungry white tiger; Rainbow Maker – all colour has disappeared from the world, and only a child can bring it back; and Super Claus – a fun-filled story charting Santa’s brief spell as a superhero – cue cape, tights, and eating pork pies on a park bench in the rain. Yup, it escalates.

All three books were a joy to write and allowed me to expand and evolve the Picture-This Books style and brand. Now we had new characters alongside favourites such as fairies, dragons, dinosaurs, narwhals, and Mr Christmas himself. I was having a lot of fun reworking classics, playing with language and flipping certain stereotypes on their head. I decided this was the direction I wanted Picture-This Books to continue – but it’s fair to say I closed the year a bit on the tired side.