Today I met the family who were at the cemetery on the day I wrote my next picture book. Connecting with people at the cemetery is always a unique experience, but today felt especially meaningful. I read them the manuscript for the very first time. The whole family sat together around their loved one’s headstone — camping chairs spread out, children sitting comfortably on the grass, two new puppies weaving even more love and warmth through the space. What struck me most was how natural it all...

I wonder what it is like to think about writing something other than grief, loss, and the pain I now suffer each day. Today I struggled to get out of bed. Some mornings I lie there thinking my heart is going to give way. I don’t know if that is the weight of the sadness, or the actual physical struggle it now has to survive. But eventually I got up. Today was one of those days where I didn’t want to face anything — not the world, not my list of jobs, not even the people I love. I sat on the...

It’s been a while since I’ve written here. Why? I think the answer is layered. For so long, my focus has been on the books. On getting the words out. On making something tangible from the grief that now lives inside me. Maybe it’s because your heart can only hold so much pain at once. And when so much of that space is already filled with grief — grief etched into ink, into pages, into stories — there doesn’t always feel like there’s room left to create. Although, as I write that, I wonder if...