Writing for me often happens in stolen moments. It is easy for me to plan time for and execute illustrations. It is easy for me to plan for and to execute mind-maps as well as write down structural and technical details. It is TOO easy for me to plan and execute and get lost in RESEARCH. (I LOVE RESEARCH). And don’t get me wrong, my creative writing portion can also be planned- unjammed by a 10 minute journal exercise. But I am not a writer. I am a visual artist, a researcher, a reader, a journal keeper. And writing scares the hell out of me. I’m not good at it. But I love it. So often, my writing of the Molly manuscript just comes when it comes. It can happen on a train, or at 1:30 AM when the household is asleep, or in the tub when reading something unrelated. And I have to respect that. Therefore, I carry a notebook with me at all times.
And so came the preface for Molly. An unexpected memory and a-ha moment. Eureka!
The illustration came first.
The words much later.
“The truth sticks in our throats with all the sauces it is served with: it will never go down until we take it without any sauce at all.”
― George Bernard Shaw, Saint Joan