working with illustrators by Sandra Horn
I think I must be not-very-visual, at least in some
respects. I can devise colourful and (to my eyes, at least) pleasing embroidery
designs, and am a passionate devotee of a range of visual arts, from woodcuts
to sculpture to theatre design... The ability to create art leaves me
speechless and humbled. It’s just that, when I’m writing, the looks of the
characters I’m creating are ephemeral, dreamlike. Perhaps that’s because I
wouldn’t be able to draw or paint them? I don’t know. The upside of this
deficiency is the delight I almost always feel when illustrations arrive. I can
still remember with a happy shiver seeing Ken Brown’s depiction of Tattybogle
for the first time and thinking, ’Oh, yes! THAT’S what he looks like!’ The
mice, the crows, all the woodland creatures, are not in my story but I use them
in telling the story and how the book came to be. They add an immeasurable
dimension, which has been further enhanced by Ruth Kenward’s musical script and
songs. When we saw the first pictures of
Essie Clucket (for The Tattybogle Tree) , there she was with her ‘big red
jumble sale hat and old flowery frock’ and Karen Popham’s touches of genius:
brown dungarees tied with string under her dress, mad high-heeled pink sandals
and lipstick applied with a slapdash hand, Perfect. ‘I know her!’ said Henrietta
(Branford), ‘she’s one of those farm ladies who’s had lots of gentlemen callers
and enjoyed every one of them.’ We joined forces with Karen to resist the
publisher’s idea of long lacy drawers instead.
Later, Karen made Heligan’s Mud Maid and Giant come to life before my
eyes.
It’s not been an unmitigated pleasure, though. This train of
thought was triggered by a design for the cover of a new book, Naz and the
Djinn, where the illustrator has shown the boy rubbing a teapot instead of
pulling the stopper out of a bottle, and the Djinn is in a red-and-gold harem
suit (long purple robe – crucially important in the text). The rabbit in the original The Dandelion Wish
was depicted as a pervy-looking bloke in a too-tight rabbit suit; Wee Jeannie
in The Silkie looked like the captain of the hockey team in a M&S school
frock; the Silkie wore a t-shirt and lycra cycling shorts; there was a heap of coal
in the windmill in Nobody, Him and Me...(although the Greek-style windmill
itself and the oil pitcher on the wall were lovely nods to his heritage by
Pantelis Georgiou.)
Resolving the differences of opinion has sometimes been
great fun, though. Bee Willey’s polar bear stalking the South Pole in Rory
McRory (moved, after discussion, to page
one as a christening guest!); taking out ‘picked up the baby, cradle and all’
when Bee couldn’t devise a way for the horses to heft the gorgeous cradle-shell
she’d painted; Jo Theobald’s stunning crows (The Crows’ Nest) in the iridescent
shades of blue-green and blue-purple you find in crows’ wings, after I’d jumped
up and down about the original Looney Tunes versions, black with big yellow
beaks; a hasty re-write of the Giant’s journey when Karen drew the ‘wrong’ lake
in the sequence; asking Muza Ulasowski to
change the killer whale (!) to a blue whale in I Can’t Hear You! I Can’t See
You’ – enjoyable discussions and everybody happy. It works when we’re both
totally committed to the project but neither of us is too precious to adjust
our work for the greater good. I love it.
Afterthought: can the pictures be TOO good? After zero
interest in The Silkie audiobook, I made a Facebook advertisement. Result? 50+
likes in two days and wild enthusiasm – for Anne-Marie Perks’ cover image!
Still no sales...
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