PaperTigers: Your life has been a tapestry of living in many cultures—in France, Spain, England, the United States, Nigeria, India. How has this helped you as a writer?

Katia: This is an interesting question. How does life in general help and/or affect us as writers? I would say every experience shapes us, and what we are shows up inevitably in what we write. I could not have written Amadi’s story if I had not lived in Nigeria. On the other hand, it must be said that a life spent traveling or living in vastly different countries (even if I also find similarities from one to another) has made me slightly jaded. I’m so used to witnessing diverse ways of living, eating, dressing, even driving a car on the road (!) that it takes more and more to surprise me. I notice that particularly when we have guests. Some of the things that amaze them, I have come to view as part of my daily routine or panorama.

PaperTigers: It’s been said that writing a picture book is as demanding as writing a poem. Each word must be precise, the use of language must be economical, and the images evocative. Longer forms of fiction can be more forgiving. Why did you choose this difficult form for Amadi’s story? And would you choose it again?

Katia:I love the picture book format. I love the conversation between the art and the words on the page, how they are meant to complement each other. I think that writers who are also artists are very lucky to be able to experience this medium in its full beauty, and difficulty. Amadi came to me that way : it was a turning point in the life of a young boy, related to a particular instance, and something that needed to be resolved quickly. And yes, I have three other picture book manuscripts that I hope will find a home. Children love pictures. They love being able to suspend the flow of a story to examine an image, notice details, talk about the expression on the face of a character, the background, etc.

PaperTigers:As a mother of two girls, why did you decide to write about a boy? Is there a “real-life” Amadi? How did you manage to enter the heart and mind of a small “Igbo man of Nigeria” and give him such complete life on the page?

Katia:There is no “real-life” Amadi, but there are lots of boys just like him. The problem of these boys dropping out of school to earn quick money in the street is very real. As for entering the heart and mind of Amadi, I think it’s the reverse. Amadi entered my own mind and started telling me his story. I just had to write it down. (more…)

I would like to draw your attention to this Family Reading page on The Horn Book’s website – there are lots of ideas and shared experiences to hearten and encourage reading with and to our children. I especially love Martha Parravano’s article “Reading Three Ways“ about reading with her two daughters; and I laughed aloud at the end. It reminded me of a holiday when Son Number One was still toddling. Rapunzel had been the perpetually chosen audio tape on the day’s drive up to the North of Scotland. A few days later:

Daddy: Where’s Mummy?
Son (cackling): The bird has flown, my pretty!

…I wish I’d actually been there to hear it!

Thinking back to that time when books had to be repeated ad infinitum, here’s a list, in no particular order, of only some of our family favorites from the very early years:

All the Hairy Maclary books by Lynley Dodd – in fact, all her books!
Owl Babies by Martin Waddell, ill. Patrick Benson;
Can’t You sleep, Baby Bear? – and the rest of the series, again by Martin Waddell, but ill. Barbara Firth
Each Peach Pear Plum and Peepo! by Janet and Allan Ahlberg
Mrs Armitage and the Big Wave by Quentin Blake
We’re Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen, ill. Helen Oxenbury
Little Beaver and the Echo by Amy MacDonald, ill. Sarah Fox-Davies
The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
Green Eggs and Ham by Dr Seuss
The Gruffalo and all the other books by Julia Donaldson, ill. Axel Scheffler
Mrs Goose’s Baby and Mr Davies and the Baby by Charlotte Voake

When I look at this list I realise that nearly all these books were given to us by friends whose own children had loved them – and we in turn have handed them on to our smaller friends…

So let me just leave you with a something the illustrator Howard Pyle once said:

“The stories of childhood leave an indelible impression, and their author always has a niche in the temple of memory from which the image is never cast out to be thrown on the rubbish heap of things that are outgrown and outlived.”