Heidi Stemple's ADRIFT

We are all trying to find our individual peace and sanity in the midst of this pandemic. Heidi Stemple writes books, of course. Her latest picture book speaks directly to this feeling of separation that we've all been experiencing. She stops by to talk about it. Welcome, Heidi!

Heidi E.Y. Stemple
ADRIFT, illustrated by Anastasia Suvorova
Crocodile/Interlink Books
©2021

A few months ago, my significant other said to me, “I don’t get how you can drive for hours with no music on.” I had never had to put into words how a creative brain works before, so explaining it to him was revealing, even to me. A writer’s brain, I told him, is never still. It’s always working things out. Plotting, untangling, creating new… I need the quiet to allow my thoughts the space to wander in and out of, around, and through a story. It never feels that I am in control of the process. It feels more like I am observing my own creativity—watching, listening, taking mental notes.

I feel pretty lucky that I grew up in a family that valued creative thinking. Even as kids, my parents (author Jane Yolen and computer professor/birder David Stemple) encouraged us to be out in nature observing then writing and drawing about those observations. We often created field guides of real and fantastical creatures living on our 15-acre farm. So, for me, creativity and creative thinking has just always been part of how I move through the world. I didn’t start out writing as a job, but I have always written. During the pandemic, especially the early parts, it’s my impression that writers could be categorized into one of two camps: those who felt completely creatively blocked, and those who wrote like covid magically opened some flood gates and words just flowed out. There are lots of factors as to which camp people fell into, but I fell pretty solidly into the latter. I wrote a ton. I wrote for myself and I wrote manuscripts, some of which are, now, on their way to publication. I think this is partly because of something I say to friends who find themselves in various difficult situations (divorces, sicknesses, teenagers, pandemics, to name a few) and are worried about trying to write. Something I truly believe: the work will save you. Creativity (in my case writing, but this translates to all types of creativity) can be a life raft. It can be an escape hatch or a hiding place. I’m not saying you should be writing the great American novel if that’s not your thing. I mean allow the fears and sadness out onto the page. For me, that’s my ideal therapy. One of the things I wrote early in the pandemic was ADRIFT. It is now a gorgeous picture book illustrated by Anastasia Suvarova and published by Crocodile/Interlink Books. But, in the beginning, I wrote it because I needed to feel less alone. I needed someone to hear my fear and share it. I needed hope. And because I was taught at an early age to be fearless about creativity, I didn’t think too much about it -- I just wrote. This is not to say the words on the pages of the book are the words that I wrote in the first draft. We all know that’s not true. But, when I first let the words fall from my brain into my fingers and onto the keys of my computer, I didn’t do so with expectations and a marketing plan. I just allowed it. There is a certain freedom and pureness to that type of creative thought that I don’t think you have if you get too bound up right away in thoughts of publication. But, if you are in the habit of this free creativity—if you cultivate it and remain open to it, even if you are writing for an assignment (as I am now for a new book) your creative brain will take over and not allow you to overthink. How can you use this in your own creative life? First, don’t worry if you aren’t writing. The muse is never gone. She is patiently waiting for you to be ready. Be open. Offer yourself grace. Shut off your inner editor and critic. Write something just for you. Write a list poem. Turn your grocery list into a song. Enlist your kids or your friends to write something with you—pass it back and forth forwarding the plot. Make a field guide of real or fantastical creatures outside your home. If you are reading this, you are likely like me. Creativity is what keeps you sane—what gets you out of bed and walking forward. Even in hard times. Even when things feel dark or scary. I talk about quitting writing as a job at least once a week. I mean, it’s not exactly a regular paycheck (having just sold my 40-42nd books, you’d think I could rely on some income, but no…I’ll keep my day job as a literary assistant, thank you very much) and the constant rejection can beat you down. But, my brain isn’t wired to not create. I’ve got stories brewing that will eventually beg to be on the page. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. For now, if you need me, I’ll be sitting in the quiet, listening to the characters in my head.