Behind the Story

I was scrolling through Instagram in December 2024 when I accidentally hit a button that highlighted a ghostly line around the subject of a photo. A prompt offered me the option to "copy subject." Intrigued, I opened my Photos app and right-clicked on an image. There was the option: "Copy Subject." I selected the option, then copied the subject of that photo onto a white background. I was astounded. Back in my marketing career, I had paid graphic designers to spend hours in Photoshop doing exactly this kind of meticulous handiwork. The idea that I could have this capability now with a couple clicks was world-changing. When I paired this new technology with the technique I developed to create art projects in the Purpose Discovery course (see Soul), I was on the way to creating my own illustrations.

 In Soul class, I had searched the Internet for images, printed and cut them by hand, then glued them to a new background. I had experimented with scanning some of the pieces and collaging them on-screen. Now, using the "copy subject" option, I started experimenting with photos of Wilbur, a hedgehog, and a park path. When that collage was finished and I had proven to myself that the technique was viable, I had another idea: Was there an app that could turn my finished photo collage into an illustration? I googled it. Sure enough, there was. 

But for Wilbur, there was still the problem of what was going to happen in the story. What conflicts would drive the action? Right around this time, I was experiencing a new perspective on an old relationship and I realized that someone involved often played the victim. And it hit me in a flash of inspiration: Each of the animals that Wilbur encountered would use a different manipulation technique to try to get what they wanted! Wilbur's challenge would be to stay true to himself in spite of the pressures. The story started to write itself — something that happens to other writers, but never before to me. Why was I able to complete this work of fiction with real satisfaction when I had never been able to do that before?

This brings us to the third in the confluence of events that birthed not only Wilbur, but a new creative process for me. Absurdly, it started with a book on economics. Kate Raworth starts her brilliant Doughnut Economics with a chapter on the importance of images. (Read the book yourself to understand the profound influence images have on our economics' students and policy.) For our purpose, just note that this was simmering in the back of my mind as I started earnest work on Wilbur in January 2024. I loved the interplay of working on both words and images ... that when I tired of tweaking text, I could turn to image work. I remembered the rhythm of my favorite job, writing and designing the monthly magazine for The Los Angeles Athletic Club. It was the most prolific I had been, writing more than five articles per month. Flipping between the writing and the layout work had helped me whenever I became stuck. All those years of trying to write novels and I had forgotten this about myself, or never understood it properly in the first place. My process — who I am as a creator — has to include images. It is the play of the two things together, the words and the images, that makes my heart sing and allows me to be productive. Instinctively, I had known this when I was a child wanting to be the next Dr. Seuss, but it took until my late 50s to experience the necessity of it.  

The story and images were flowing with Wilbur. I delighted in capturing images of his actual school and house on Google Earth. Then I came to the Camel spread and encountered problems with both the story and layout. Those pages nearly zapped my confidence. I fussed with proportion and perspective and shadows. I watched Photoshop tutorials on YouTube. Getting the stucco of the school building to show through Mr P. Cock's fanned tail on page 16 took real grit. All the while, my mind worked in the background on the fact that I didn't know how the story ended.  Until I did.