My Journey to Becoming a Published Children's Book Author

The moment I’d read the email from Cardinal Rule Press CEO Maria Dismondy offering me a publishing contract for my picture book manuscript, “It’ll be Irie” one cold February morning in 2023, I took a deep breath, then exhaled very slowly, internally registering an emotional cocktail of gratitude, excitement, joy, and even relief (as in relief from the stress of dealing with the voice in my head forever theorizing why after eight years of submissions, I still was not yet a published children's book author.)

It felt so wonderful to share my great news with all my loving family (the first person I told was my mom, of course!) friends and colleagues who’ve supported and encouraged me. For the care, attention they’d shown me, it felt like their victory too.

This includes my awesome critique group family of authors. As it turned out, I had been the last person in the group to be published. Up until getting that contract, I’d always felt buoyed by my fellow writers, who knew the frustration I could sometimes feel, spending years working on, then submitting manuscripts only to receive rejection after rejection (call them The Submission Blues, if you will.) They got it because they’d been there. They knew about the nagging self-doubt, the crippling fear of impostor syndrome. Conversely, they, more than anyone, could relate to feeling the immense joy of getting that first publishing contract because someone who loves your story wants so share it with the world.

My journey toward publication specifically in the genre of children’s literature began back in the 2000’s when I'd begun volunteering to read to elementary school students on a weekly basis via the (now sadly defunct) Book Pals Program run by my actor’s union, The Screen Actors Guild (Now SAG-AFTRA).

During that time period, I began visiting the kid’s section of libraries to find books to read to the classes. I was amazed at how many great so many of these books were; a picture book with just the right balance of perfect illustrations and impactful text (whether humors, clever, poignant, etc.) can be magical.

At the time, I was reading all of the works of American comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell. I’d discovered on You Tube several animated shorts Campbell had collaborated on with illustrator Gerald McDermott, featuring a folk tale from a particular culture. McDermott had created a series of gorgeously illustrated picture books featuring folk mythology from cultures around the world. I loved sharing them with the students I read to.

It was around this time I began writing my first picture book story, or at least, I’d thought I was writing a picture book, though it was more like a short story upon reflection. I’d later come to understand the concept, first intellectually and then, through practice, of creating text that leaves space for the illustrations to tell part of the story.

I wrote a few more stories like that before being struck with an idea for a longer story that I eventually realized was a middle grade novel.

Around this time, I was also exploring the world of quantum physics. I wanted to find a way through a picture book to teach kids the idea of Oneness, that all things are made up of the same stuff and everything is connected.

In 2014, I ended up creating and self-publishing a rhyming picture book that I also illustrated (I’d been drawing since I was five) called You’re Everything Everywhere All the Time (no relation to the film, Everything Everywhere All at Once, a brilliant film (go see it if you haven’t already) about the multi-verse, though I too took note of the uncanny title similarity).

It took me about a year to create that book, from writing the first draft of text to painting the last illustration and I enjoyed every minute of it. The text, which is a rhyming poem, took about 3-4 months to work out so it was smooth and rhythmical, the correct number of beats per line. I spent the rest of the year drawing and coloring the illustrations using a combination of water color, colored pencil, and pen. This had been preceded by about three weeks of sketching until I’d “found” the character, a brown-skinned boy with a huge afro.

I self-published my book via Amazon’s (now defunct) Create Space design program in 2014. Having my book actually become a tangible object I could hold was an immensely gratifying experience. Despite the negative stigma of self-publishing being characterized as “vanity publishing” I’d definitely felt a sense of accomplishment, especially after the amount of time I’d invested in its creation.

In the years since, I’ve read it to dozens upon dozens of students, whether live in classrooms, at book festivals or online. I’m also a musician and I wrote and recorded a song=version of the book I used to play and sing after reading it to the kids.

However, that wasn’t enough. I wanted to be traditionally published. I decided to show my commitment to this dream by registering with SCBWI (Society of Children’s Books Writers and Illustrators), reading new children’s books to stay up with the current market, learning everything I could about the do’s and don’t of writing a picture book and a middle grade novel, since all of my manuscripts fell in either of those two categories.

I began to immerse myself more and more in the kid lit world, attending many conferences and writer workshops, switching from a critique group consisting of writers creating content for adult readers to one exclusively comprised of kid lit authors.

I wrote more picture book manuscripts while continuing to revise my middle grade novel and writing the first draft of another. I continued to learn and network. I quickly realized as a male, I was clearly in the minority, not just as a writer, but also with the field of kid lit agents. I’d heard more than one person in a speech at a conference say there was a need for male authors to write stories for boys, which I, of course, found to be encouraging.

As I began submitting my work to editor and agents, I continued to learn how to write an effective query letter, the kind that get script requests. As my text became leaner, I learned how write illustration notes to describe the specific images completing the story I saw in my mind.

I learned how to make dummies (a loosely designed mock-up of a book) in order to map out the text and illustrations placements and ensure I have the correct amount of content for what will help make up thirty-two pages in a picture book. I’d been blessed with a scholarship to attend a Picture Book Workshop Weekend Retreat hosted by Highlights Foundation in Maine. While there, I had many faculty members offer me complements about my work, a story inspired by Mayan mythology.

However, for many years I’ve submitted this and other manuscripts with all replies arriving in the form of a rejection form or no response at all. As I became a better writer, I soon began receiving original rejection letters offering genuine encouragement and positive feedback. I finally started getting some full manuscript requests. Woohoo!

Though I was extremely grateful my work was gaining attention, I also discovered the pain of hearing an editor say they wished they’d loved my book as much as they’d initially hoped (ouch!). But I also learned that just like a casting director searching for that perfect person for a role, so too did an editor or agent search for the story that they end up falling in love with, the one they can’t put down and/or can’t forget.

“And how long is that gonna take?” I could hear my inner ego-mind whine. I had to ignore it (without self-judgment) and remind myself to create my art for the sheer joy of the act of creation, to not be tied to outcome.

But, as it stands, I am human (I sometimes forget I am a conscious light being having a human experience!) and after several years of rounds upon rounds of submissions of both picture book manuscripts and middle grade novels, I had still not secured the seemingly ever-elusive publishing contract; que a reprise of The Submission Blues.

At one point I started to lose hope, fearing it might not ever happen or that I might be tempted to give up (which would then mean for sure it wouldn’t happen!). But I also knew at some level I wouldn’t allow myself to quit; I certainly couldn’t quit being an artist even if I tried. If I was going to continue to create (write) I might as well send it out what I wrote.

So I did. I would sometimes recall this vivid memory of a debut author opening her keynote speech by rolling out across the entire stage a paper trail of every rejection letter she’d ever received taped back-to-back. All it takes is one was something she’d said.

The day I got an email from Cardinal Rule Press telling me I was in the running for publication, it was almost unreal for maybe a second or two. I was being asked if I wanted to make a final revision of my story (then) titled “Christmas Cake in September” before they made their decision. I, of course, said yes. I spent a good amount of time revising my manuscript before sending it back to them. It this point, it was like when, as an actor, I was “pinned” for a commercial; it didn’t mean you got it, but that the producers were considering you for the job. Usually you or your agent/manager don’t get a call to unpin you should you not book the job.

It was less than a month later when I got the contract offer. I’d just finished doing a reading of my self-published picture book to a third-grade class in Florida via Zoom.

What elevated this experience to a mystical level was the fact that my story was influenced by my father’s tradition of baking Jamaican Christmas cake for extended family every year. My dad’s favorite bird was the cardinal. So to have the publishing house that wanted to publish my story inspired by my dad to have their name and logo stand for his favorite bird is a special kind of magic beyond words, the kind that leaves me teary-eyed with gratitude.

Now that I’ve got my first traditionally published book under my belt, I am ready for the next one, however long it will take. Besides, the time it takes to manifest is not my concern, nor my responsibility. My job as a writer, as an artist, is to clear the inner pathway as best I can in order to receive the clearest transmission possible for these stories to come through, and then share them with the world.