FAQs

1) Did you always want to be an author, or did you have a before-author life?

I’ve said I wanted to be an author since I was eight… but then I recently dug up a picture of me at an Author’s Tea event when I was five years old, stepping off stage after reading a two-sentence story this now tucked away in my mother’s closet.

And yes—I’ve had a full “before author” life and still have one now. I’ve been a teacher, museum specialist, educator, and now a copywriter. Turns out, I write and tell stories in all of my life’s experiences.

2) Where do you get your story ideas—dreams, real life, or secret author meetings?

Real life—especially the ridiculous parts. Never Take Your Rhino on a Plane was sparked by a real (and awful) plane experience. Devonte’s Shoes is a nod to the folks who raised me, my community back home. Because of Dads was a poem I’d written to honor my own father.

I don’t really “make up” stories as much as I notice what life hands me… then I shape it into something kids can carry.

3) Are any of your characters based on real people… and should your family be nervous?

Yes. And yes. 

I pull from family, friends, strangers—anyone who gives me a moment worth keeping. Bubble Trouble was inspired by my mom (legendary gum-chewer). And Granddad’s Roses was influenced by her, too—she used to be a hobby florist and once swooped in to help save prom night with a corsage for my niece, which you’ll see is central to that particular story.

Every day is material. Be kind to authors. We’re observant.

4) What’s the funniest thing a kid has ever said to you about one of your books?

I was at Books of Wonder in New York, and a six-year-old named Hailey stood in line for me to sign Never Take Your Rhino on a Plane. She looked me dead in the eyes and said:
“I like your book… you did a good job… but it’s not my favorite.”

Respectfully, Hailey taught a masterclass in honesty and review-writing that day.

5) How long does it take you to write a picture book—from first idea to final page?

It depends. Some stories take three weekends. Some take fourteen years. Stories open up when they’re ready—and sometimes you have to grow before the story does.

One book might help you learn page turns. Another might carry you through grief. Another might teach you the key to obsession-level research and you come out a wine connoisseur as a byproduct because you’ve studied so much French cuisine in the process. 

Writing is basically a rabbit hole… except you don’t turn into a rabbit. You just come out holding a book.

6) What do you do on days when you don’t feel creative (or when your brain is doing cartwheels)?

I refill. I rest. I walk. I go to the park. I read. I watch something mindless on purpose.

Creativity is about taking in as much as you put out. When I’m empty, I consume.

7) If you could give one piece of advice to a kid who wants to write a book, what would it be?

Tell the story. Even if it’s wacky. Even if it’s messy. Even if you don’t know the ending yet.

I started with a tiny idea once, too. Your job is to begin.

8) What’s one thing you wish grown-ups remembered about being a kid?

We didn’t call it “risk averse.” We called it Tuesday.

Kids try things. They leap, they test, they fail, they laugh, and they try again. I wish grown-ups bottled that energy and used it on the decisions that matter—because we’d be further, farther, better along. Really. 

9) If you could step into one of your books for a day, what would you do first—and what snack are you bringing?

Devonte’s Shoes. I’d step into that world and head straight to the cookout.

And I’m bringing red velvet cake—specifically from Villani’s Bakery in Charlotte, North Carolina. Not because I’m slightly boujee… but because I have standard, and I know good cake!

10) If you could have any animal as a sidekick while you write, what would it be—and would it actually help, or just demand snacks and applause?

An African Grey. A brilliant, chatty, feathered editor who actually talks back.

I’d test sentences, try jokes out loud, and let him roast my weak word choices. A living thesaurus with opinions.

Would it help? Absolutely. Would it demand snacks and applause? Also, absolutely. I’ve always wanted an African Grey (and one day I’ll get one).