She’s Here! Mafalda Arrives at Long Last! An Interview with Translator Frank Wynne, and Publisher Jill Schoolman

She’s Here! Mafalda Arrives at Long Last! An Interview with Translator Frank Wynne, and Publisher Jill Schoolman

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About ten years ago a family friend went to South America and came back with presents. For my daughter, he presented a t-shirt that looked something like this:

I was instantly charmed. Even more so when he explained to me that in a lot of Spanish-speaking countries, Mafalda is huge. Think Peanuts but imbued with late 60s/early 70s Argentinian politics. Still, it seemed so odd that I’d never encountered her before. If she truly was so influential, where were the translations?

Years later, I finally have my answer. On May 13, 2025, the first Mafalda volume (of five) will be released by Elsewhere Editions. And here’s some info on the series itself, from the publisher, which may answer some of your questions:

“Quino published Mafalda between 1964 and 1973 in Argentina. Not only was the series about a group of kids pranking each other, playing chess, and having philosophical conversations, Mafalda also critiqued censorship and police brutality as dictatorships spread throughout Latin America.

At the heart of it all is Mafalda herself: six years old, smart as a whip, and ever attentive to the absurdities of human life on earth. Her undeniable moxie has endeared her to readers not just in Argentina but also in Poland, Greece, Italy, France, Taiwan, and beyond. Larger-than-life statues of Mafalda have popped up in public spaces in Spain, Mexico, and Argentina.”

I had a chance to read the new Mafalda book and to my infinite relief it was everything that I’d hoped for and more. I’ll put some of the strips at the bottom of the post that I particularly enjoyed, but before that, let’s talk to the translator, Frank Wynne, as well as publisher Jill Schoolman, who acquired Mafalda in the first place, and get some answers.

Betsy Bird: Frank, thank you so much for answering my questions today. You’ve translated a host of authors from the original Spanish over the years. How many of these were comics? And how familiar were you with Mafalda prior to this assignment? 

Frank Wynne: I began my career as a translator in comics… Having been variously a cinema projectionist and a radio announcer, I moved to Paris in 1984 and worked as a bookseller. It was there that I discovered bandes dessinées, or what we now call graphic novels, and it was there, too, that I first read Mafalda (in French, I would not learn Spanish for at least another decade). When I later moved to London, I became very involved in the British comic scene, working with Fleetway and Tundra on various titles, and later as editor of Deadline (whose contribution to world culture was Tank Girl by Jamie Hewlett and Alan Martin), During that period I translated a lot of comics for a variety of publishers, including artists like Bilal, Mattotti, Édika and Tardi. And while I was editor of Deadline, I even published a handful of early Mafalda strips which I translated and lettered myself.

Mafalda was always profoundly important to me. Argentina has always had a large inventive comics community – from the nightmarish visions of Alberto Breccia and the seminal work of Solano López, but Mafalda was particularly important. While it owes a small debt to Charles Schultz’s Peanuts, it was revolutionary  (or should I say counter-revolutionary) in that Mafalda’s funny, jaundiced, cynical child’s-eye view did not confine itself to childhood subjects, but tackled major political shifts, from the Vietnam war, to the rise of Peronism, the skewed world economy and the encroachments on press and personal freedoms in Argentina and elsewhere. Quino could do this because he presented the natural bewilderment of a preternaturally intelligent girl observing the world around her. His work was and is funny, penetrating, insightful and thought-provoking

BB: Agreed. Jill, for your part, I’d love to know a little bit more about how Elsewhere Editions was able to bring out what is, as far as I can tell, the first English language translation of Mafalda. First, how did you know about Quino’s work?

Jill Schoolman: In 2011, I took part in an editors’ fellowship program in Buenos Aires. I encountered Quino’s Mafalda there. I fell in love right away (of course). I was amazed to learn that although the series was a phenomenon around the world (particularly in the Spanish-speaking world), no one had yet published it in English. We made an offer upon my return but it took quite a while for us to secure the English-language rights. But here we are! 

BB: I’m so glad you did! Can you give us a bit of a sense as to why we haven’t seen Mafalda in the States before? 

Jill: It’s a mystery to me!

BB: Absolutely. But I wonder about some of the other problems with bringing it here. Frank, what were some of the challenges with this particular translation? 

Frank: There are always  problems. Chief of these is that, like many comic artists. Quino loves a pun – and puns cannot be translated, they have to be reinvented, which means finding another expression that suits the context, and has words which lend themselves to punning. There are a number of other challenges – the early Mafalda strips were drawn in the 1960s, so here and there I have glossed to provide a little  context for contemporary readers; equally important, they assume a certain familiarity with Argentinian politics and society, which also required a little contextual tweaking. I’ve even introduced a joke of two of my own.

BB: Well, some of the translations work so well that I was curious as to how they even came to be. For example, in one of my favorites Mafalda notices that there’s a skin on her milk. She stares at it, then asks her mother, “Or don’t you worry about skin heads?”  It’s SUCH a perfect joke, but how did you translate it?

Frank: Because that’s not the joke in the original, that’s the joke I had to come up with to. In the Spanish Mafalda complains  about cream (nata) on top of her milk, and asks her mother whether she’s opposed to  control de natalidad (control of creaminess but the phrase control de natalidad actually means birth control)

BB: Oh, dear god, that’s awesome! Not to worry, folks. There are plenty of other birth control jokes that did make it in. So Jill, much along those lines, what was it about Mafalda that you felt would speak to American readers today?

Jill: Mafalda’s clear-eyed humanity is needed more than ever today. All of the realities around her that she questions and protests against—war, consumerism, political corruption, sexism—are still very much with us. We need her innocence, outrage, and dead-serious commitment to change this unacceptable world. She and her entourage are as lovable and giggle-inducing now as they were when they first appeared.

BB: Humor is considered subjective even when two people are speaking the same language. Jokes don’t always translate over national lines either. Frank, were you responsible for selecting which strips in this book would translate best, or does Mafalda naturally lend herself to an international appreciation of her humor? And how difficult is it to translate something and make it funny?

Frank: The plan is to translate all of Mafalda, from her first appearance. As a short-form newspaper strip, it lends itself well to being translated, and deals mostly with preoccupations common to children who are discovering the world in all its incomprehensible complexities…  there are a few panels here and there where jokes had to be reframed because translating them more literally for a contemporary audience risks seeming  offensive (whereas at the time, drawn as they were during the civil rights movement, Quino was skewering precisely the prejudices of the period). As to making them funny – once you have a voice inside your head, everything is easier, and reading and re-reading Mafalda over a period of more than 30 years, I can hear her voice inside my head, I know the kinds of things she would say, and the kinds of jokes should make, and the natural outrage she feels at the sheer unfairness of the world (and of soup)

BB: Oh yes! Mafalda’s infamous loathing of soup. Frank, will you be translating any other comic works in the future?

Frank: I hope so – as I said, comics and graphic novels are where I began my career in translation. It is a little rarer now for me to be offered comics to translate, though I still take on those that are offered!

BB: And finally, Jill, will we be seeing any more of Mafalda after the publication of this book?

Jill: Yes! This is the first of five volumes. The plan is to publish one a year.

BB: That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.

I cannot give you all of Mafalda to sample, but if you click on the comics below, you can at least get a bit of a glimpse of what we’ve been talking about here.

Special thanks today to Frank and Jill for answering my questions and to Emma Raddatz and the folks at Elsewhere Editions for organizing all of this and sending me the interior spreads. And be sure to expect the first Mafalda volume on May 13th!

Fuse 8 n’ Kate: The Caldecott Contenders of 2025

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Hooray! With the ALA Youth Media Awards on the near horizon (Monday, January 27th at 8 a.m. MT to be precise) it’s never been a better time to debate some possible winners of the Caldecott Award. Today, I hand over to Kate an unprecedented FOUR possible contenders (rather than my usual three)! Will she opt for the vibrant father-daughter vibes of My Daddy Is a Cowboy, the rainbow wry-wit of Touch the Sky, the luminous family-centric storytelling of Joyful Song, or the heartfelt sincerity of Home in a Lunchbox? Only this podcast can say for sure.

Listen to the whole show here on Soundcloud or download it through iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, Google Play, PlayerFM, Audible, Amazon Music, or your preferred method of podcast selection.

Show Notes:

Kate Recommends: Bluey

Betsy Recommends: Hair the movie

Review of the Day: Don’t Trust Fish by Neil Sharpson, ill. Dan Santat

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Don’t Trust Fish
By Neil Sharpson
Illustrated by Dan Santat
Dial Books for Young Readers
$18.99
ISBN: 9780593616673
On shelves April 8th

What makes a good unreliable narrator… in a picture book? One might argue that it’s very much the same qualities that make a good unreliable narrator in a work of fiction for older readers. There’s the choice the author must make as to whether or not to show their hand early or leave the reveal right up until the end. Then there are all the little details that appeared earlier in the book, leaving the reader to doubt everything they were told. That may sound a little heavy for a title whose intended audience is probably still a little unclear on the whole tying-your-shoes deal, but believe me when I say that when it comes to a book like Don’t Trust Fish, I feel inclined to pull out all my literary criticism tips and tricks. There are some picture books that you read that make you chuckle when you see the cover. There are some picture books where they might get one legitimate laugh out of the adult reader. There are some picture books that are funny to young readers. Now consider a book that makes everybody, and I do mean everybody, laugh from the cover onwards. THAT, my friends, is a picture book worth celebrating! That is a rarity! That… is I Don’t Trust Fish.

There are animals in this world that you can rely on. It has fur, is warm-blooded, and feeds its babies milk? That’s a mammal. Cold-blooded with scaly skin and lays eggs? Reptile. Feathers? Birds. Easy peasy. Then… there are fish. Fish don’t follow the usual rules, so you know what that means? “Don’t trust fish!” Don’t trust ‘em! Thanks to this book, you will learn the myriad reasons not to trust these sneaky denizens of the deep. Whale sharks? They’re the size of buses. “That is not okay”. Fish watch us. They plan. They scheme. With scintillating details and delightful art, young readers are given ample reasons not to trust our underwater brethren. But who, precisely, is imparting this information?

I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone, but Neil Sharpson? He ain’t from around these here parts. Which is to say, the man is Irish. An Irish picture book author right here on our American shores, whatever will they think of next? Welp, he is, and one has to wonder if, upon reading this book, that fact would be apparent to anyone who came to this book cold. Maybe not, though there are a couple tells. Early on in the book you are informed that certain animals have common characteristics. To wit, we are right from the start presented with a cow. “This animal has fur. This animal is warm-blooded. This animal feeds her babies milk. This animal is a MAMMAL.” Now apart from being a wonderfully boring way to begin the book (all the better to offset the inevitable plunge into madness later) this sets up a set of expectations that kids may already be aware of. Filing animals into their phylum is what humans like to do. By the time you get to birds, a pattern has been set and Sharpson allows himself a wry, “Anything with feathers is a bird. Birds are dead easy.” There you go. That little soupçon of Irish. It’s not overt, but it’s there.

Now, while I run the risk of dissecting the frog, I want to just dive a little into why Don’t Trust Fish works as well as it does. Not since the incredible Mr. S by Monica Arnaldo have I encountered a picture book that is so universally and thoroughly enjoyed due to its hilarity. And why is that? Well, let’s talk a bit about what makes picture books funny. Maybe someday I’ll write a book on the subject since, for whatever reason, we don’t seem to have any books on them now. To write a successful funny picture book, you have two audiences you have to appease. You’ve got your adult gatekeepers, the ones who have the dollars in their pockets, and then you have the actual intended audience in the first place: children. Both children and adults, and I mean this truly, are terrible judges of what is funny. This is because kids and parents are not all that different. They both are easily led astray. There are many different ways to appeal to someone, and a book can certainly be funny the first time you read it… and then less and less funny after that. What keeps a book funny after multiple, maybe even hundreds, of reads? Comic timing. The art of the page turn. And the ability to make a book fun to read aloud over and over and over again.

First up, comic timing. This is directly connected to the art of the page turn, and I’d be unwilling to separate the two. Now I looked into this Neil Sharpson fellow. He’s blogged continually since 2012 (which I personally think should be medal-worthy right there) and he’s written many a fine book, but they ain’t children’s books or nuthin’. He does, however, have two children. This makes the odds that he’s read a picture book in the last several years good. But unlike, say, celebrities who read to their kids and then believe that they are now capable of putting words to paper (fun fact: they cannot) Sharpson appears to have learned something from these books he’s read. He understands how to make something funny and how to lead a reader astray. The best moment in this book, and I mean this truly, is the moment when we’ve already read the words “Don’t trust fish” repeated times and then we get to a white page with a single innocuous fish that looks like it couldn’t care less about where all this is going. The text reads, “This fish is okay. You can trust him.” Turn the page and together Sharpson and Santat have blown the two-page spread apart with words writ large in all their typographic splendor, reading, “NO! THAT WAS A TEST! DON’T TRUST FISH! ESPECIALLY NOT THIS ONE! THIS IS THE WORST FISH!” Please note that the fish has not changed one jot on this spread. Please also note that Dan Santat made the dot in one of the exclamation points a tiny skull. This is because Dan understands the assignment.

The assignment, in question, is to use the picture book format as a guide that will allow these two creators the freedom to try all kinds of different types of humor. There’s the illogical ramping up to extremes with the fish robots near the end (chaotic extremes are always one of my favorite types of picture book escalation). There are jokes that poke fun at ourselves (the dumb humans and their illogical love of pancakes). There’s the dichotomy of extremely realistic illustrations alongside funny cartoonish ones (more on Santat’s genius with this in a second). There’s the surprise ending. Bathroom humor (brief albeit effective). Someone talking like a pirate. I mean it, people. This has it all.

And it has it all because Dan Santat decided this was where he was going to plant this flag and work hard. Now, like any illustrator, Dan’s somewhat beholden to the text he’s handed. When he’s paired with an author, he has a certain amount of leeway as the illustrator to explore any number of venues. But Dan’s a funny guy. If the text allows him to play off of the humor already in the words, that’s great, but it’s even better if he can also build off of that and accentuate everything with this own distinctive brand of humor. You want to know how to make a successful picture book? You need a precise and simultneous balance of “funny” from both the author and the artist. AND they have to be compatible. AND the artist has to feel comfortable to try things. Things like drawing horrendously realistic animals at the beginning of the book before we even get to the fish. Things like in-jokes in the margins (please watch for any and all brand names that appear on the pages, particularly when sandwiches are being made). Things like sticking the landing with that final joke. Doggone it. Dan’s on fire with this.

I have a small problem. I am no longer a children’s librarian. As such, unless I co-opt one of my library’s storytimes like some crazed woman wielding her library degree like a weapon (commandeering Jammy Time much in the way Blackbeard would commandeer a unassuming vessel on the high seas) I am not likely to have a chance to read this book aloud to anyone anytime soon. I haven’t felt this frustrated at not being about to read a book to kids since I read Robo-Sauce by Adam Rubin and Daniel Salmieri. But that’s okay, because at least I can comfort myself with the knowledge that you, dear reader, may know a child. It might even be a child with a sense of humor. And if that child does not have a sense of humor, this book may have the power to change all that. This is going to be the picture book that brings us all together this year, so let’s celebrate that fact and, above all else, we must make one thing clear to one another. No matter what they tell you. No matter how they lie, plea, and beg… Don’t. Trust. Fish.

On shelves April 8th.

First Look! : A Peek Into Alberto Salas Plays Paka Paka Con La Papa

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I’m rarely so excited by potatoes.

Generally speaking, if I do a cover reveal, I’ll include a kind of Q&A with it in some manner. Today, however, we’re doing something a little different. It’s some covers, yes (in English AND Spanish!) but also a couple excerpts from inside the book too. And the title in question? Alberto Salas Plays Paka Paka con la Papa: Join the Quest with Peru’s Famed Scientist and Potato Expert. Or, if you prefer the Spanish edition, Alberto Salas juega paka paka con la papa: Únete a la búsqueda con el célebre científico y experto en papas peruano (both out March 18th).

A taste of the plot if you please:

“What can a potato do? To Peruvian scientist Alberto Salas, they have the power to change the world. Go on the hunt with Alberto for for wild potatoes before they go extinct in this playful picture book biography, gorgeously illustrated by Caldecott-honoree Juana Martinez-Neal.

High up in the Andes mountains of Peru, agricultural scientist Alberto Salas is on a quest. A quest… for potatoes.

Up and down the Andes mountains he goes, playing an epic game of paka paka con la papa, potato hide and seek. These potatoes are special: they have the power to feed the world.

Alberto doesn’t have a second to waste. The climate is changing and Alberto must find each and every one to save them before they go extinct.

The game is on!

Alberto races and peers and prods. Drives and trods and climbs. Will he find the potato he seeks? Will he win the game of paka paka con la papa?

Author Sara Andrea Fajardo’s spirited biography about “the godfather of potatoes” is paired with lush art by Caldecott-honoree Juana Martinez-Neal to capture how celebrated scientist Alberto Salas brings joy, curiosity, and fun to his very important, life-changing work.”

That’s right, it’s nonfiction! and best of all, I’ve some quotes from the book’s creators about it:

Sara Andrea Fajardo

“As a little girl growing up in California, my father painted vivid portraits of the Andes through stories, music, and impassioned lectures on the Quechua language and culture. His talks often lingered on the richness of the land, particularly the thousands of varieties of potatoes that sprout from its fertile soil. At the time, I longed for a picture book that reflected and celebrated this aspect of my heritage. I could find none.

But years later, when I first met Alberto, his eyes twinkled with a familiar joy and pride when he spoke about the Andes and his work. This book is my love letter to the Andes and its people. Through these pages, I hope to honor the value of an Andean childhood, the wisdom embedded in the Quechua language, and the extraordinary gifts they offer the world.” -Sara Andrea Fajardo

Juana Martinez-Neal

“Paka Paka is a story about Peru that has not been told before which is why I was interested in illustrating it from the very beginning. Being from Peru, I love working on stories that expand the vision of the country where I was born and raised. Of course, this book is about potatoes. Yet it is also about the amazing work Alberto Salas (and others like him) are doing to make sure we preserve varieties of potatoes, and ensure that we are able to grow all foods in the future. 

Rather than portraying knowledge stolen from Indigenous people (as is always done), in the illustrations I try to portray a respectful passing of knowledge from the wawa-making to Alberto’s interaction with the Andean people. While illustrating, I challenged myself to bring to the reader the feel of the gritty soil from the mountains. Take a look and let me know if I achieved it. And, while you’re at it, you can always play your own game of Paka Paka. I hid plenty of potatoes in the artwork.” -Juana Martinez-Neal

And now, enjoy an early peek at the inside of the book:

Many thanks to Sara and Juana for their quotes and to Kelsey Marrujo and the team at Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group for making these excerpts possible. Alberto Salas Plays Paka Paka con la Papa: Join the Quest with Peru’s Famed Scientist and Potato Expert is out March 18th everywhere.

New Shoes for Leo: Lauren Agra Deedy and Susan Gal in Conversation

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I don’t usually do this, but sometimes when I’m offered the chance to interview an author and illustrator I like to see the cover of their book before I decide whether or not to talk to them.

Here is the cover of New Shoes for Leo (out March 4th), written by Laura Agra Deedy and illustrated by Susan Gal:

Well. I mean. I’m only human.

The product copy was really just the icing on the cake:

“William’s Mami and his Tía Ana are busy packing a big box of food, medicine, and clothing to mail to their family living in Cuba.

But something important is missing.

They have no zapatos, no shoes, to send Cousin Leo!

“Which cousin is Leo?” William asks.

Tía Ana answers him with a thin paper tracing of Leo’s footprint. She nudges him out the door to find someone in the family with spare shoes in Leo’s size. But finding shoes for Leo is not as easy as it seems.

With warmth and tenderness, Lauren Agra Deedy and Susan Gal have created a rich, colorful story of a tight-knit family — and the love that grows as they care for those living far away.”

Today, we talk with Lauren and Susan on the book, where it came from, its design, and how you develop a book with this kicker of a combo of art and heart.

Betsy Bird: Lauren and Susan, thank you so much for joining me today! And Lauren, specifically, congratulations on your gorgeous debut! NEW SHOES FOR LEO is a librarian’s dream picture book, in that it covers a topic I’ve certainly never seen for kids before, and does so with a fun, original, interesting storyline. So well done there. Tell us a little bit about how this book came about.

Lauren Agra Deedy.
Photo by Kenji Kubota Headshot Photography

Lauren Agra Deedy: Thank you so much for your kind words! Leo was very much a labor of love for everyone involved, so we’re delighted whenever we hear it struck a chord.

Leo’s development was very organic. The initial idea came to me when my mother and I were going through my Abuela Esther’s papers. She was a very organized person (in another life, she would have been an amazing archivist) and saved various mementos from her long life. In one of her files she had kept some of the many paper footprints family and friends from Cuba had sent over the years. These footprints were used to figure out what size shoe to mail back—just like in the book.

The footprints stuck in my brain as such a tangible representation of so much of the refugee experience. The many boxes sent back home, the family and friends left behind, the connections that endured, etc.

It also brought back a lot of childhood memories, of watching my mom, abuela, and tía fill box after box with food, medicine, and clothes as we children watched. And of asking questions about who they were going to, and learning about people we might never meet—but building affection for them regardless.

The shape of the book percolated and formed quite naturally from there.

BB: That’s a great origin story for any book. And Susan! Absolutely lovely getting to bombard you with questions today. You just did some top-notch, stellar work on NEW SHOES FOR LEO. How did you come to hear about the manuscript? And what drew you to the story?

Susan Gal
Photo by Emilee Orton.

Susan Gal: Hello Betsy! Its a thrill to talk with you again. Thank you for your kind words about our book.

My agent Kelly Pelsue sent me the manuscript. Right away I felt a connection to William, the main character in the story. I understood his curiosity and desire to learn about his family that remained in Cuba. I am the grandchild of immigrants and like William’s family, my family maintains a connection with our relatives in Eastern Europe.

BB: Oh yes! I know that you have some family connections of your own to boxing up and sending supplies overseas. Could you tell us a bit about that?

Susan: My relatives in “the old country” of Hungary could not afford to travel to the U.S. to visit us. My great aunt and uncle remembered our family by sending them boxes of clothing, coffee, tea—items that were very expensive in Hungary at that time. In return, the Hungarians would send us beautifully hand-embroidered linens, pillow covers, and photos. Like William, I was eager to learn about my cousins in those photos, people that looked like me but with different clothes and hair styles. I loved hearing the family stories and hoped one day to travel to overseas to meet them and see our country of origin.

What I loved most about illustrating the book was the fact that Ms. Deedy’s family reminded me so much of my extended family. My grandmother would lovingly hold my face in her hands and I felt that felt that William’s grandmother would do the same. I believe that that kind of love connects all of us no matter what your country of origin.

BB: Well, I don’t think it will surprise anyone if I say that in the current political environment, we’re going to need empathetic books like NEW SHOES FOR LEO more than ever. Lauren, was this on your mind at all as you wrote the book? And how would you best like the book to be used in the future?

Lauren: Honestly, when I sit down to write I never do so with the intention of sharing a specific message or elevating a virtue (be it empathy, or something else). Children are highly astute. They can smell an attempt to moralize from a mile away and, generally speaking, will run in the opposite direction.

My technique has been to focus on storytelling, and have faith that in the course of crafting a solid story that good values will naturally emerge without heavy-handedness. Which is—hopefully!—what happened here. 

As far as the future, my hope is that Leo speaks to as many children as possible. Most obviously, I’m hopeful that children of refugee and immigrant backgrounds will find value in seeing part of their world in print. It isn’t always easy to explain to other children why you have to send clothes or medicine to another country, or why you have family you can’t see and what that’s like. I’m optimistic this book might be a tool to help these children explain and express their feelings around these topics a little more easily.  

I also of course hope the book speaks to children of non-immigrant backgrounds, and that they see themselves reflected in the broader messages of family, generosity, and empathy.

BB: That makes sense, though it’s always important to get the details of the subjects right. Susan, this book is entirely about Cubans and Cuban-Americans. I know you would have had to work meticulously to keep the book as visually authentic as possible. What was the process you went through to make sure every image was on the up and up?

Susan: That is a very significant question. It is the responsibility of the illustrator to “get it right”. For each book I illustrate I gather dozens of photos and use them for inspiration and authenticity.

I knew that this was Ms. Deedy’s debut picture book and how important it was to her to reflect her Cuban heritage. She graciously provided me with photos of her grandparent’s home and items that were meaningful to her family. Her photos reminded me of my immigrant grandparents and great aunt and uncle’s home, down to the picture frames and family knickknacks. I also spent considerable time researching Cuban communities, the proper way to make empanadas, the correct shoes for each of the family members, buildings, interiors, etc. The text does not suggest any pets for the family but I enjoyed imagining what it would be like to know these characters and create environments for them. When the author was specific about things that her family used I made sure to incorporate them in the art.

BB: True, this is your debut, Lauren. But while writing picture books is new to you, the concept certainly isn’t since your mom is Carmen Agra Deedy. Did you always intend to write some yourself or did it come as a surprise to you?

Lauren: Neither? I never really saw myself as writing picture books, but I also didn’t have anything against the idea. 

But I quite literally grew up in children’s book publishing. Anyone who worked at Peachtree Publishers during the early 1990s surely remembers me roaming the halls with my teddy bear, Boo. My bear and I sat in at many editorial meetings and even went to ALA together.

So when I started having ideas for children’s books—probably a side effect of my nieces and nephew getting older, and of working in a pre-school for a few years—taking up the genre felt natural.

BB: I get that. You know, part of what I like so much about this story is how you have all this pertinent information about families sending things to relatives in Cuba, but the story for kids itself is such a fun search for the right shoes. That balance between the content and the storytelling is a hard thing to master. How much does this book resemble your earliest drafts?

Lauren: The answer to that question is simultaneously: ‘A lot’ and ‘Not at all.’

The basic structure of Leo was remarkably stable from the start. I knew that this was going to be a story about a child trying to find shoes for a relative in Cuba, that he would go from family member to family member looking for a match, and that in the end the match would be him. That never changed.

What did change a lot was everything else. The art of the children’s book is very much the art of reduction and crystallization. Taking big ideas and lots of words and turning them into a concise 32 pages. That is what much of Leo’s editorial process revolved around. Not only finding the right words and story, but refining and boiling them down to their essences. I’m very grateful to my editor, Dianne, for her help in that process. She’s a master of it and a huge help to someone like me, who tends to be wordy.

I’m also grateful to my mother and husband for their advice during the editorial process—I think they both read most of my drafts—and to family who contributed memories or ideas.

BB: Let’s talk a little bit about that art. Here’s a question about your use of color. In this book, I noticed that green and orange were prevalent in the art. Susan, what causes you to consider and select one thematic shade in a book over another? How do you determine the look of the colors for a book?

Susan: I know this will sound artsy but its true! Every book I illustrate eventually reveals what palette it needs to be. Our story takes place in Florida and I wanted to capture the lushness of a tropical, vibrant, international community. I spent time working in Florida so I was familiar with that landscape. Originally I started with a pastel palette but it felt too dated to me. When I think of Florida I remember countless shades of green and vivid orange sunsets. You’ll notice that our Cuban family’s clothing is rendered in shades of green with leafy, floral patterns. William’s red and white baseball shirt and blue jeans echo the colors of the Cuban flag and his American home. As I was painting the artwork it was really fun to let go and try to push the rich colors.

BB: Lauren, Susan Gal just poured her heart and soul into the images on these pages. Were you aware of her work going into this book? How do you feel about the final product?

Lauren: When my editor first suggested Ms. Gal, I was not familiar with her work. But once I saw it, it was (artistic) love at first sight. Ms. Gal is an incredible talent, and I still can’t believe my luck in being able to work with her for my first book.

What’s great about Ms. Gal is not only is she a fantastic artist, but she’s also very receptive to working as a team. In order to accurately portray Cuban homes and culture, I sent Ms. Gal family photos, household photos, general cultural information…you name it. And she used it all!

Several of the objects in the interiors are even taken directly from photos of my abuelito’s home—dolls, picture frames, maps, etc. The result is that even though Ms. Gal is from a different cultural background, she still created very recognizably Cuban-American illustrations. That only happens with an illustrator who’s willing to do the work and do it well.

Needless to say, I’m absolutely thrilled with the final product!

BB: Susan, I won’t give it away, but you have a very nice little wordless postscript to the story at the very end that I appreciated. Was it your idea to include it or someone else’s?

Susan: Ah! Thank you for noticing our little postscript! Let’s see if I can answer this without any spoilers.

The story doesn’t tell us what happens after the boxes are sent to Cuba. I put myself in the shoes of the reader and felt they would want to see the results of William and his family’s efforts. Our editor Dianne Hess and art director Marijka Kostiw agreed. Together we came up with a visually satisfying solution that felt just right. That’s what I love so much about illustrating picture books; the opportunity to tell a story with both words and pictures.

BB: That’s awesome. Okay, that just leaves my final question: What are you two working on next?

Lauren: I have a few different irons in the fire, but the only project that’s far enough in the process to mention now is a book about the Three King’s Day bread (roscón de reyes). It’s called Don’t Eat the Baby! No release date yet, but hopefully I’ll have more for you before long!

Susan: Thank you for asking, Betsy! I am fortunate to have two books publishing in 2025. My other illustrated book is titled No More Chairs, published by Little Brown. It’s based on a true story by retired teacher Dan Gill. That book debuts in July.

I’m currently teamed up again with author Chana Stiefel for another book with Scholastic. Authors and illustrators traditionally do not collaborate, but we became friends after creating The Tower of Life and we are very excited to work together. We may be breaking the rules but our process has been really rewarding and we bring out the best in each other’s work.

Thank you for inviting me to talk about New Shoes for Leo. I loved answering your thoughtful and intriguing questions!

And thank YOU, Lauren and Susan, for taking all that time to answer my questions today. As I mentioned earlier, New Shoes for Leo is out March 4th. Thank you too to Victoria Velez and the team at Scholastic who coordinated this interview.

The Rare Three-Man Interview: Ben Clanton, Andy Chou Musser, and Corey R. Tabor Talk Metamorphosis with Papilio

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I am excited.

I am very excited.

I am so friggin’ downright excited, I don’t even know what to do with myself.

Recently you may have seen that I wrote a post called And Now Some Books I’m REALLY Excited for in 2025! There was one book in particular that I mentioned that is pertinent today. It’s the kind of book that feels like a dare: Can three friends (who also happen to be picture book author/illustrators) collaborate on a single work of informational fiction wherein each person takes a different part of a caterpillar-to-butterfly’s life cycle? Or, put another way (by their publisher):

“Introducing Papilio Polyxenes, the Black Swallowtail Butterfly! She’s an adorable and hilarious caterpillar who is ready to join the world and become a butterfly! But growing up is a complicated work in progress, and Papilio encounters some hiccups as she learns to fly, fall, and feed. While avoiding foes and making friends, she transforms from caterpillar, to chrysalis, to butterfly…and most importantly, learns to believe in herself along the way.

Told in three parts, mega-bestselling author-illustrator Ben Clanton, Caldecott Honoree Corey R. Tabor, and rising star Andy Chou Musser have come together to create an expressive character who exudes all of the emotions that accompany life’s big firsts and the experiences that help us to discover our inner strength.”

Today, the whole reason I’m excited is that I get to talk to these three and get the real skinny on this book once and for all!

This is gonna be good . . .

Betsy Bird: Thank you so much for answering my questions today! I know you talk a little bit about this in the back of this book, but I’d love if you could tell us how precisely a picture book with three creators telling a single story came to be. From what I understand, the three of you were walking in an Arboretum. Why were you there? And why did you want to work together on something like this?

Clockwise Upper Right: Andy, Ben, and Corey

Ben Clanton: Andy and I were in the midst of working on the first Ploof book and having such a blast teaming up that we found ourselves eager to do even more collaborative projects. We started discussing what else might be fun to try out. This conversation just happened to be taking place the day before we had a meet-up with Corey planned at Belle Epicurean Bakery and the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle. There wasn’t really any particular objective to the day. We just wanted to get together and discuss books and whatnot. But as Andy and I talked about what other collaborations could look like we naturally found ourselves going “What if Corey was part of this conversation?” which had the immediate response of “You just read my mind.”

Andy Chou Musser: Yes, absolutely! It felt like we were sharing the same brain wave. This collaboration felt natural for so many reasons: the three of us have been friends for over 10 years, we’ve been in a critique group together for almost as long, and we all happen to be the same age. It felt special that, in addition to having a shared enthusiasm for reading all kinds of kid’s books, our work shared sensibilities that seemed like they could work together.

Corey R. Tabor: It was such a nice surprise when Andy and Ben invited me to collaborate with them. Before then I don’t think I’d ever considered collaborating on a picture book (outside of illustrating someone else’s story). I think my initial, immediate response was, “That sounds really fun!” Which, in this line of work, is a very good reason to do something. It’s the second best decision I’ve ever made in the Washington Park Arboretum. (Fun fact: I also proposed to my wife in the Washington Park Arboretum.)

BB: And you could have done any topic in the world but you selected butterflies. Why? What is it about them that has such an allure for you?

Ben: We had a whole list of possible ideas in mind. But when Corey mentioned the stages of the butterfly I feel like there was a collective “oooh! YES!” sort of response. The life of a butterfly is such an incredible journey . . . one filled with awe and wonder, ups and downs, and lots of possibilities. That really resonated. We didn’t know what this collaboration would look like but the butterfly provided such a great place to, ahem, let our imaginations take flight!

Andy: Yes, it was such a perfect fit. When we were considering a topic, we kept asking ourselves: “Does this story really necessitate having three authors and illustrators?”  The life cycle of a butterfly is such a familiar yet compelling concept that had enough space to let all three of us do our own thing while still weaving our pieces back together into a complete story.

Corey: Absolutely! We realized that the three distinct stages of a butterfly’s life would let us tell three stories in our own distinct voices and styles. Papilio’s perspective changes as she grows and changes, so it made sense that the art and storytelling could change with her.

Andy: That process of growing and changing felt like it could be universally relatable for kids and  grown ups too. And that journey of self discovery goes hand and hand with our hope that readers will feel inspired to consider branching out and start creative collaborations of their own.

BB: So tell us a little bit about your process. Did you all ever brainstorm together or was there just a lot of backing and forthing via email and the like? And how long did the whole process take altogether?

Corey: Most of our collaborating happened over video calls. (I live about an hour away from Ben and Andy, so we don’t get to meet in person as often as we’d like.) We spent the calls brainstorming, sketching, going off on tangents about our favorite picture books, etc., then we’d spend a week or two (or more, depending on what other projects we had going) working on our own sections of the story before getting together again. We had a shared Google Doc file where we built our dummy, each of us plugging in our sketches as we finished them. Andy or Ben might have a better memory than me but I think we spent about a year and a half  working on the initial dummy, then another year after we signed on with Viking.

Ben: Our video call chats were one of my favorite parts of making this book! Especially all the wonderful tangents. We also texted quite a bit in between those calls. Plenty of tangents there too, of course, but in the end it was also really productive and helpful.

Making books often is a very isolated, secluded experience (which can be nice yet is sometimes lonely too) but with Papilio there was this wonderful mix of working together and apart.

Taking a look back at our shared drive we also had an initial brainstorming and outline document that we all contributed to. So neat to see all the various directions we had in mind! I had totally forgotten that I had a version of the caterpillar story in which Papilio is a distracted eater and another in which she is super picky. And Corey had a version of his section in mind in which Papilio’s chrysalis was this awesome apartment-like dwelling where she plays video games and musical instruments to pass the time.

Andy: Yes! It was such a joy spending time with Papilio and seeing where the story took us. Writing the book took longer than I think any of us expected, but looking back all that time and space felt necessary to allow Papilio to emerge fully formed.

About a year into the process, we had a draft we thought was finished… but after getting feedback we realized it still wasn’t quite ready to take flight. Fittingly, that happened in the spring, and after overhauling the story through the summer we landed with a new draft that pretty closely resembles the final book.  There was so much extra fun stuff we wanted to add, both whimsical and non-fiction related, but in the end the book worked best when we trimmed a lot of that and focused on Papilio’s character and her journey.

BB: Part of what is so fascinating about this book is that your three writing and artistic styles really play off of one another so well. The transitions between the three of you are seamless. From your note at the end, you apparently passed the illustrations back and forth between the three of you. Logistically this is fascinating. Was that a smooth process or did you encounter any hiccups along the way?

Corey: I think there are six illustrations in the book that we illustrated collaboratively by passing the illustrations (as Photoshop files) back and forth between the three of us: the front cover, the back cover, the case cover, the two transitions between sections, and the illustration at the end of the book where Papilio and the mouse are flying off into the sunset. We did the rest of the illustrations solo. But we did give each other a lot of feedback (and encouragement) as we wrote and  illustrated our sections, and we definitely played off of each other’s stories and illustrations throughout. I’m sure there must have been hiccups along the way (there are always hiccups), but I’m not remembering any of them now, so they must have been little, baby hiccups.

Andy: Agreed, I remember the process being pretty hiccup free. I think we mainly encountered big questions that felt more like puzzles, and once we solved them things would flow easily again. For example, we weren’t sure how to make collaborative illustrations together, so we discussed lots of options before we even picked up a pencil or paintbrush. Then once we decided on our approach, in this case it was to layer our elements together collage style, we just jumped in and gave it a go.

Ben: One of the things that helped us avoid any major hiccups was establishing a shared color palette. Corey had done a sample piece of final art featuring the mouse in the field as the chrysalis soars across the spread. We all liked the mix of blues, greens, yellows, and pinks, so soon Andy and I were giving that palette a go too. A lot of the book went that way . . . one of us would do something that the other two liked and then we’d adjust, incorporate, and build off of that new element. For instance, Andy had a lot of dandelions at the wish stage in his section. I love dandelions! So when I saw how prominent they were in Andy’s story (which fits so well with Papilio’s wish to fly and reach the flower in that part of the book!)  I added them to my section as well but at the flower stage, which then was another opportunity to allude to one of our central themes, change.

Speaking of change . . . I think being open to that ourselves helped with the process. I really liked my first go at the caterpillar story, but it wasn’t quite working with what Corey and Andy had come up with. I had initially gone with a David Attenborough-esque voice which I felt really attached to, but the nonfiction feeling of that voice was a bit at odds with the more character-centered approach Corey and Andy had taken. So I put my caterpillar story into a chrysalis and let it emerge as something new.

Andy: Often, it felt like making the book was a game and we were collaboratively writing the rules as we were playing as a team, and an effective move was usually to be more playful and look for ways to set each other up for more interesting moves.

BB: When you first were coming up with the notion of the book, did you know from the get-go that you wanted Papilio to be a black swallowtail? Why did you select that particular (and striking) type of butterfly?

Ben: I believe that was Andy, yes?

Corey: Yeah, I remember spending a good chunk of one of our video calls admiring and deliberating over pictures of caterpillars and butterflies, before Andy found the perfect one.

Andy: There were so many fascinating species to choose from! Since I was custodian of the butterfly stage, I felt extra responsible to help pick one that would work well for all of us. In my mind, there were two qualifications for our candidate: to be fun to draw as a caterpillar, and to be somehow eye-catching as a butterfly. I was less worried about the chrysalis because Corey embraced the oddness of that stage, and all chrysalises look kind of odd to me.

We knew from the onset that any new butterfly book would be compared to “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” so I wanted to steer away from that visual territory. And what is more opposite than an almost completely black butterfly? I like that it subverts the general expectation of what a butterfly should look like, and from a technical standpoint a black butterfly meant that I could make the backgrounds colorful without the main character getting overshadowed.

BB: Okay, in the interest of not choosing favorites I won’t tell you which of Papilio’s little songs is my favorite, but one thing I have to ask is whether or not each of you wrote her little song on your own, or if one of you wrote the both of them.

Ben: I’m pretty sure Andy came up with both of them! But it can sometimes be hard to recall who came up with what. We had a session where we brainstormed all sorts of possibilities and those were the two we liked the best.

Andy: I think I wrote the first draft of the songs, and then we finished them together. As a hobby, I like making music… I sometimes record super silly songs (complete with bad drum loops and cheesy keyboards) for friends’ birthdays… so I was pretty stoked when we decided to write songs for the transition pages. And it didn’t hurt that Ben and Corey are musicians too: Ben played the trombone and is a great singer, and Corey plays drums and banjo (amongst other instruments).

Corey: I just searched our old dummies and here are two bonus tracks from the cutting room floor:
“Ring-a-ling! Time to take wing!”
“Waiting was a snore, I can’t wait to soar!”

BB: I shall expect the promotional music video presently. Now this one’s for Corey. Corey, you got the chrysalis stage. Now I need you to be honest here. Did you volunteer for that or was it foisted upon you? It’s exceedingly well done, but unlike caterpillars and butterflies I’d say it would be the most difficult to accomplish action-wise (though you find a very nice way of getting around that problem).

Corey: I really wanted to do the chrysalis stage! Andy and Ben are the nicest people, not exactly the foisting type. I love a good challenge (I’ll take creative limitations over a blank page any day) and I enjoyed trying to imagine what it might be like to be a chrysalis just hanging out for several weeks, waiting to be a butterfly. I’m actually pretty sure it was Ben or Andy who first had the idea that the chrysalis could be going on a chaotic adventure while Papilio chills, oblivious, inside.

Andy: At first, it felt like such a relief that Corey stepped up and took the hardest section. But then he wrote it really fast and with such a deft hand… that it made writing my section feel super intimidating! But I’m really happy he raised the bar. It was immensely inspiring to see him work his magic and made me want to aim for that level of “just rightness” (or perhaps “just write-ness?) in my work.

Ben: Ditto that! I think Corey’s chrysalis story hardly changed from what he first sketched up. It felt pretty fully realized right from the get-go . . . which is kind of ironic given the unformed nature of Corey’s subject.

Andy: Yes, everything is there in his first draft! It was so helpful to have Corey set the tone early on with such a solid foundation for us to build on. His section became this bridge in the middle of the book that allowed Ben and I to go in different directions with the comfort of knowing how our pieces would fit together.

BB: Finally, this book is just so delightful you just know that people are going to ask you for another. Any plans to create another? The water cycle, perhaps? *hint hint*

Ben: We’ve got all sorts of potential stories and ideas floating about currently. Water cycle actually did recently come up as one of the options that could be fun! Mutualistic symbiosis has also got our wheels turning. Plus cats and eggs and robots and oodles more. It’s fun to keep playing and experimenting! Not sure where we’ll land on a second collaboration just yet.

Andy: Agreed, we have lots of really promising ideas, and I’m itching to work together again! But we keep coming back to our original question of whether the story really necessitates having three authors and illustrators to make it, and we’re trying to be really intentional with our choice.

Corey: To be continued…

The nicest men in show business, folks. And how many of you had “Mutualistic symbiosis” on your bingo cards? Check that phrase off right now.

I’d like to thank these three incredibly, incalculably sweet fellas for speaking with me today, sharing every possible aspect of this fascinating process. Thanks too to Lathea Mondesir and the team at Penguin Random House. Papilio is on shelves everywhere March 4th so get your pre-orders in now!