The Magic of Collaboration
One morning, as I mindlessly scrolled through my Facebook feed, I came across a painting from a group called Maine Artists. I had not joined this group; it just popped up. Likely, some algorithm indicated that I like photographs of New England landscapes. The post that appeared was a painting of cardinal sitting in a birch tree by an artist named Jim Lagasse.
It caught my attention because this was the exact subject matter of my children’s book, Ruby and the Owl. I always envisioned my title character, a little red cardinal, sitting in a birch in a wintery scene just like in this painting. I marveled at the realistic detail of the trees, the artful night sky, and the beautiful rendition of the birds. I had to respond to this post. I hit the “love” icon to show my appreciation for this appealing landscape.
Several days later, that same artist posted another painting of a red cardinal sitting in a birch tree, but this time the composition showed the forest grounds where a brown bear and fox lingered at the base of one birch while the little red bird perched on a branch in another. In the background, pine trees were silhouetted against an indigo sky. It was so charming, I hit the “love” icon for the post too, and thought again how perfect this landscape would be for my book.
My manuscript for Ruby and the Owl remained buried in my Google Drive files because I had no desire to waste more money trying to get the story illustrated. A year earlier, I hired an artist who took seven months to deliver half the project, and then quit before she finished. It was for the best, though. The artwork was not what I wanted. This young illustrator convinced me to let her produce the drawings using a computer program called Procreate. She said it would look exactly like a watercolor, but I’d have more options for editing. It did not turn out that way. I accepted the loss of my 50% deposit as a learning experience, put the book away, and started a new project.
Then I saw another illustration by Jim Lagasse. This one he called Mr. and Mrs. It was the first time I realized that only the male cardinal is red. My lack of knowledge of that simple fact made me chuckle. This time, the tree was as much a focal point as the love birds because the shot was a close up. The bark of the birch in this painting was extra special because it was done in shades of yellow, blue, gray, and white adding an eye-catching pop of color to balance the vibrancy of the cardinals. I hit the “love” icon for this post also and wondered, “Who is this guy? He is painting my book!”
I pulled out my manuscript and reworked the story board, imagining my characters in the scenes that Jim Lagasse painted. It was perfect. Lest I advertise my misunderstanding of the species specific details of the great Northern Cardinal, I changed the protagonist’s name to Rudy, and contacted Jim Lagasse.
He liked the idea of illustrating a children’s book from the start. Neither of us had much experience in such an endeavor, but we both had a passion for our craft and a vision of the finished product. Although I was a little fearful about losing money again, I had a good feeling about Jim. My instincts proved right. He was both a gifted artist and a true professional. It was the perfect collaborative experience.
The story of Rudy and the Owl is the result.