Questions You Should Know about Books by Children

Your Top 10 Questions

1. Why do you write the kinds of books you do?

I write about what grabs me emotionally and what fascinates me — the same kinds of things that I think children wonder about — topics such as: attachment, love, joy, anger, fear, separation, loss, growing up, gender, and healthy sexuality. These are difficult subjects, but they are the stuff of life I find intriguing. These are topics adult literature deals with, so why not children’s literature?

That’s why in my picture books I try to tell a good story, and through the telling of a story I try to help young children understand that the strong and powerful feelings they have are perfectly normal and perfectly healthy.I’m also interested in figuring out how to get information to children and teens that can help them to stay physically and emotionally healthy. A good story or a picture book and nonfiction book, if done well and with honesty, can strike a responsive chord in children and hopefully interest them as well as help them better understand themselves and the world they live in.

2. Do any of the books you write come from your own childhood?

I’m quite sure a lot in my books comes from my own childhood, but the books also come from being a mother and a grandmother. And they also come from my adult life and the world I see around me and the daily observations and experiences I have. All of this feeds into my writing.

3. Is writing easy for you? Do you feel lonely being a writer?

No. I find writing very hard to do, and I feel it’s especially hard to do well. I’m never completely satisfied with what I’ve done. But I love the challenge of figuring out how to make a book work for a child.

Lonely? Yes and no. At times it feels lonely because you write alone and have to figure out how to make a book work on your own. That’s a writer’s responsibility. But I talk with family, friends and my editors endlessly, and I consult with experts quite often about my work, asking questions and asking their opinions, although I don’t always listen to everything everyone tells me. This talking and consulting makes me feel part of a community, and all are generous with their wisdom, time and expertise.

4. Why don’t you illustrate your own books?

I can’t draw for beans! Never could and probably never will. And besides, I get to work with such extraordinary illustrators who have new ideas that make my writing and my books better!

5. Do you try to write without expressing your own opinions?

Yes and no. All of my books contain my values. It’s almost impossible, at least for me, to write anything that does not reflect my beliefs. I try not to preach, but rather to tell a story or to give accurate and honest information.

6. How do you feel when someone disagrees with something you have written?

I would never expect everyone to agree with everything I write or say in my books. However, in a democracy, everyone has the right to express his or her thoughts and opinions. If someone disagrees with me or with what I’ve written, or does not want to read any book I have written, that’s fine with me, and I respect that person’s right to do so.

I feel that in a democracy every individual should have the right to choose and the freedom to read what he or she wants to read — and for me as a writer, and for all writers, to write what we choose to write.

7. How do you make sure the information for your nonfiction books is accurate and up-to-date?

First, I talk to every expert I can to make sure my information and my science is as up-to-date and as accurate as possible. Then, I ask them to read what I have written. But sometimes the experts disagree. Science is not always perfect and scientists do not always agree. That’s when as a writer I need to make a judgment on which piece of information to include or whether to include two points of view and say in the text… “scientists disagree…” or “people may disagree.”

8. When you begin writing a picture book, do you know what the ending will be?

When I start, I know what the book will be about, but I rarely know what the ending will be. And I usually have no idea what the progression of my picture books will be until I write the opening pages. It’s one of the great pleasures of writing fiction. Often, where the book goes and the ending surprises me.

9. You’re a grown-up, so how can you write about things that happened to you a long time ago?

The things I write about — attachment, separation, loss and growing up — are issues that all begin in childhood, even in infancy, and are with us throughout our lives. I do try my hardest, though, to write from a “child’s-eye view” or to write with the mandate “What’s in the best interests of the child?” That means being honest in your writing — portraying children’s — even young children’s — real emotions.

Some of the things I write about happened to me in childhood. Others happened to people I know or have read about. Since I find infancy, childhood and adolescence so fascinating, that fascination helps me to write about babies, children and teens. And some things, in my fiction, I make up.

10. How long does it take to complete one of your books?

This is a hard question to answer. I’m a slow writer, and it takes me a long time, sometimes even two or three years from the first time an idea pops into my brain until a book is completed. IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL took almost five years from start to finish. Some of the picture books I write, such as I AM NOT GOING TO SCHOOL TODAY!, took about a year.

Renée Watson

Thousands of high schoolers gathered at the Auckland Writers Festival in New Zealand to hear me speak. When I first walked onstage, the enormity of the moment hit me—one school had come so far, the teachers and students woke up at 5 a.m. to make it to the venue. I wanted this moment to matter and be worth it. To say I was nervous is an understatement. I mention this because I want to acknowledge how brave it is for a young person to stand at a microphone and ask a question in front of not only their classmates but teenagers from around the city who they have never met. If I had butterflies after doing events like this for over a decade, surely they did too.

Halfway through the q&a, a group of Māori students stood at the mic holding hands. I could see their fear but also their courage. One student stepped forward, not letting go of his friends’ hands, and said, “I am representing my people, my community.... We want to know how to hold on to our culture and identity and how to stay proud even when so many people try to shame us, erase us.”

I remember thanking him—and his friends—for being bold enough to ask the question, and I encouraged them to continue to lean on each other, support each other. I told him that I draw strength from activists and artists who came before me who made sure our stories were preserved and passed on. I turn to poets and changemakers and remind myself that others have felt the same way and I study what they did to survive. I shared how knowing their stories gives me power and strength to hold on to my own, to be my full self, to take up space and have pride in where I come from. The most meaningful moment was after the talk, during the signing. The hand-holding friends were last in line and I was able to spend a little time with them. We had a touching conversation about not shrinking ourselves, about not letting anyone dim our light. It was an unexpected, raw, emotional exchange.

I often say that one of my favorite things about being an author is getting to meet the people I am writing for. This moment, that question, the talking and tears and the sharing is why.