One of the reasons I’m so enamored with picture books is that there are stories for absolutely every moment of life.
Silly stories for when you need a good belly laugh. Non-fiction stories that explore our fascinating world. Poetic stories that linger in a feeling and help you better understand it.
Jackie Azúa Kramer is a picture book author who doesn’t shy away from exploring human experiences. In books both light-hearted and deep, Jackie lyrically traverses the landscape of childhood, leaning into familiar topics in fresh and profound ways.
Jackie’s latest picture book, THE BOY AND THE GORILLA, illustrated by Cindy Derby (Candlewick), which publishes Oct. 13, is an emotional, love-filled story about a boy who is coping with the loss of his mother. Written with great tenderness and honesty, and awash in the fluid feelings of grief, THE BOY AND THE GORILLA is a truly unforgettable story.
THE BOY AND THE GORILLA is written as a conversation between a boy and a gorilla. But the book begins in silence. The first two spreads are completely wordless compositions of the mother’s funeral, a poignant extension of the deafening sound of loss. The first words spoken are by the gorilla, an imagined manifestation of the new, immovable truth that the boy is about to confront.
In the same way that the gorilla fills the page, looming large, so does the sparse, raw dialogue. (My mom died. I know.) As a reader, you sit with these words - these questions, answers and statements - wrestling with them and meditating on them. The boy’s worries are very real and very big.
Gorgeous and solemn, the art in THE BOY AND THE GORILLA reflects that grief doesn’t have crisp, clean edges. It’s a series of heavy feelings and shapes that press down on you, and that you lean into, as you find your way. Each spread of THE BOY AND THE GORILLA moves the reader through a different dimension of pain, toward an unknown future.
I was never fully ready to turn the pages of THE BOY AND THE GORILLA - to move through the book and to the next layer of feeling. Instead, I found myself lingering in each moment, holding my breath, holding on. The pacing of this story made the page turn a metaphor for grief, such a completely brilliant use of the picture book form. In the end, the gorilla helps the boy to discover that a very real companion is there, too, ready and waiting to comfort and love him. It’s incredibly powerful and still pulses in my heart right now, as I share this review with you.
Where did this story come from? And how did the universal feeling of grief get onto the page with such accuracy and impact? I had to chat with Jackie to find out. Luckily, I got the chance! I hope you enjoy this Author Spotlight with Jackie Azúa Kramer:
3 Questions with Jackie Azúa Kramer
This story has such a deep and emotional focus and tone. What inspired this manuscript?
I want to start by saying—thank you, Anitra, for inviting me as a guest author. And, thank you for your thoughtful questions. I dug deep in my writer’s journey on The Boy and the Gorilla.
So, in 2012 Hurricane Sandy ripped through New York, bringing with it record breaking storm surges and flooding that devastated many communities including my own in Long Island. I had known this lovely family for a few years mostly through my daughter’s funny recounting of events while babysitting these two adorable, little sisters. And, from a time, I had them over for a very messy tea party. It was their father who was killed by a falling tree while attempting to drive his family to a safer location during the hurricane.
I wished I could do something, anything to help those innocent children. But what? I thought, Hey, you’re a writer. Imagine their feelings and questions and write that story. Easier said than done--it took a few years to write.
The presence of the gorilla, and some additional artistic elements (such as the red bird), carry great weight in the narrative. How did you approach art notes for this story?
Great question! Actually, there are a few questions wrapped in that one. So, bear with me. As picture book writers most of us learn and understand to keep our art notes to a very minimum, if any. However, The Boy and the Gorilla manuscript was about 300 words, and the rest all art notes. The story is told completely in dialogue; no narrative text at all. So, the only way to explain what I imagined in setting, characters, tone and pacing, was to write what I called ‘visual interpretations’. In other words, when I created the dummy for the book, I knew exactly what each spread and page turn would look like. I wrote the manuscript with art notes like scenes in a movie.
The Gorilla character came to mind as a I learned about how some children are affected by loss. What if a little boy lost his mother and both the boy and his father are grieving, but separately and unaware of each other’s pain.
Maybe the boy was afraid to ask questions fearing he’d make his father sad. Maybe the father’s afraid to talk about the boy’s mother fearing he’d upset his son. Their unspoken feelings become the metaphorical idiom of the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. What if that large gorilla comes to life in the little boy’s mind? By creating the character of a kind, honest and supportive gorilla, the boy has someone he could share his feelings with and ask questions about death.
One of the many things I love about being a picture book writer, is the magic that happens between the time your story leaves your hands and into the illustrators.
Cindy Derby, the illustrator, did a magnificent job of interpreting my thoughts into beautiful and moving images. I believe, Oscar, a gorilla at the San Francisco Zoo was Cindy’s model. And, the little red bird is an example of the magic that happens in creative collaborations. I didn’t write a word about the sweet and mysterious bird in the story. That was all Cindy, and now I can’t imagine the story without it. I’ve shared the story with adults and children and they all ask about the meaning or significance of the Gorilla and the red bird. I LOVE that because the story leaves room for the reader’s imagination to decide.
Your voice is poetic, unique and powerful. What do you see as the thematic hallmarks of your work, and how have you honed this, and your writing voice, over time?
Oh gosh! Thank you, Anitra! The word, hone, perfectly characterizes what it took to get the voice just right in The Boy and the Gorilla. For that matter, all of my stories. Practice! Practice! Practice! The lyrical quality of poetry is a writing style that I find perfect for picture books. I’m so flattered you picked up on the power of voice. In this business, one is best served if you can find that voice that makes your stories unique.
One of the ways that I’ve honed that voice, beyond reading and learning from other great picture books, has developed from my love of theatre and movies. If I absorbed anything from those genres, it’s the sweeping, dynamic and dramatic flow of great story-telling. I literally see my stories first like a moving image or scenes in a play before I write anything.
As for thematic hallmarks—hmm. I won’t deny it; all my main characters have a bit of me in them. As a kid, I was filled with wonder, curiosity and questions about everything! I remember feeling like a bit of an odd duck as a result. My characters seem to start out alone on some kind of journey.
But ALWAYS seeking and needing to make a connection/s with someone or something. I believe the need for humans to be understood, accepted and loved is a universal feeling. The Green Umbrella (NorthSouth, 2017) is a good example of that universality.
I also have the utmost respect for young readers, and I strive not to talk down to them. I’m inspired and emotionally moved by what’s happening in the world today. So, with The Boy and the Gorilla and in some of my other upcoming books--I Wish You Knew (Roaring Brook, 2021) and We Are One (Two Lions, Amazon, TBD) and Manolo and the Unicorn (Cameron Kids, TBD) which I co-wrote with my son, I write about loss; deportation; universal connections and gender norms. However, I always keep in mind a child’s point of view, imaginative play, and that anything is possible.
THE BOY AND THE GORILLA publishes Oct. 13, 2020. It is available for pre-order now through your favorite indie bookstore.
Thank you for the wonderful interview, Jackie!
Jackie Azúa Kramer is the author of THE GREEN UMBRELLA (NorthSouth), IF YOU WANT TO FALL ASLEEP (Clavis), THAT’S FOR BABIES (Clavis), and many more to come! Visit Jackie’s website at jackieazuakramer.com, and be sure to follow her on Twitter at @jackiekramer422 and Instagram at @jackie_azua_kramer.
One lucky blog reader will win THE BOY AND THE GORILLA, signed by Jackie! Here's how to enter:
*** Win THE BOY AND THE GORILLA ***
Simply...
1. "Like" this post (click the heart below)
2. Follow me (@anitraschulte) on Twitter
3. Retweet my pinned contest tweet by 10/9/20
(Submit a blog comment below and get a BONUS ENTRY!)
GOOD LUCK!
