Interview by Carol Wright | Photographer: Vyonne Mirara
Gwendolyn Wallace used to come up with elaborate stories using her stuffed animals as a kid, which ended up being a precursor to her career as a children’s book author. Wallace talked to NYOTA about her book The Light She Feels Inside which was published this month, representation in media, and embracing the natural ebb and flow of her creativity.
As a child did you take to reading very quickly? Were you a kid that often fantasized and made up stories?
I called my mom to answer this question! I don’t remember learning to read, and I was curious what insights she had about my imagination as a child. She said I did take to reading and writing very quickly (especially spelling phonetically), but what she remembers most were the stories I made up. “Your characters were always surprisingly well-defined. Even the side characters had distinct personalities,” she said, reminding me of my two imaginary friends–Mean Twin and Nice Twin–as well as a character aptly named Guy at the Grocery Store, who appeared in every tale I told with his own continuing storyline.
My memories of storytelling mostly revolve around my stuffed animals. I remember spending my days coming up with elaborate stories which they would then act out, and even making sets and props for each scene. I’d rope my parents in as my co-directors and puppet masters, making sure they moved each animal in a way that aligned with their character. Getting through one story could take hours. I was always waking my parents up when they would nod off mid-line with a stern, “Pay attention.” They put up with a lot, raising me, but I’m so grateful they wholeheartedly encouraged my storytelling. I was a very anxious child—the children’s book character I most related to was Wemberly of Wemberly Worried—but my parents intentionally raised me to follow all my creative impulses as far as they would go. That mindset still guides me today.
What led you to working on children’s books? Do you feel that it’s easier to reach a wider audience with the topics you cover through children’s books?
I’ve always loved working with kids, even when I was still a kid. In middle school, I asked if I could volunteer in the kindergarten classroom. My first job at 16 was as a summer camp counselor. But I started writing my first picture book, which ended up becoming The Light She Feels Inside, in 2020 after I finished observing a kindergarten classroom as part of an undergraduate class on early childhood education. I was amazed by the observations the students made about our world as they tried to find their place in it. I also read a lot of picture books during those months. At some point I thought to myself, I want to be a part of the children’s literature world, and I think I have something to contribute to it. That’s how it started.
I don’t know if it’s so much about a wider audience, as it is a different one. To be honest, my writing for adults and children tackles very similar issues and themes. I am fascinated by the stories people tell about the relationship between their bodies and their environments, and how histories of race and gender influence those stories. Every topic can be explained to children in an age-appropriate way. I truly believe children have just as much to teach us as we have to teach them, and I want to help create a world where we see them as our collective responsibility, as collaborators rather than property. So that’s the world I write towards. It is an honor to write for children.
Tell our readers about The Light She Feels Inside. What is the book about?
The Light She Feels Inside follows a young Black girl named Maya who is struggling to hold all her feelings about the world she sees around her. But she is introduced to a kind librarian who shows her how Black women throughout history have used their big feelings to create change. It touches on a lot of themes that are important to me like mental health, community care, Black history, and the beauty of public libraries.
I grew up thinking, like many children, that there were good emotions (happiness, excitement, curiosity) and bad emotions (sadness, anger, disappointment). Black children are especially told to hide those “bad feelings.” I wanted to write a book that resisted that, allowing kids to understand that love and anger come from the same place. Those emotions are what have always driven people to make change. It was important to me that this book could be a kind of guide to equip children with the skills to both navigate this world and create new ones. It’s not fair for children to feel like they’re too small to make a difference, or that their voice doesn’t matter until they get to a certain age. If we’re trying to build a better world, who better to help us than the group of people with the best imagination ever? Hope is an art we can all practice. It’s really a book about that.
Representation is important in all forms of media, but especially picture books where young kids have the chance to see someone that looks like them. Is it important for you to be able to provide representation for young readers?
I’m a Black woman, and Black women’s histories, like so many other histories, are often just an asterisk or an aside to what people see as more important histories (if they’re not erased or distorted entirely). The great responsibility of being a children’s literature author is that we can shape the beginning of people’s understanding of their world. Right now, especially as we see books about oppressed peoples being banned, there’s a huge emphasis on representation. But I think that my goal is so much more than showing kids people who look like them, though that’s important. Seeing yourself in stories goes so far beyond sight.
I want children, especially those who don’t get as much love from the world, to feel so incredibly loved and held by my books. I want to tell the kinds of stories only Black women can tell. It’s a beautiful thing to be able to make a child feel like their life and their world isn’t marginal to everyone else’s, especially because that’s how I felt as a child. It’s amazing to speak across generations and say, “Look! Isn’t our history amazing? What do you think is interesting about our shared experiences?” Those kinds of connections with stories save lives. I’ve read books that saved my life. I don’t always feel like representation is a strong enough word for that. I’m not sure I’ve found the right words.
Who are some authors you look to for inspiration?
This is such a hard question! All my writing builds on the foundation of so many writers, educators, artists, and activists, particularly Black women and Black gender-nonconforming people. I am so grateful to have joined the company of amazing children’s literature authors who are writing in our present moment. Some people who are inspiring me right now are June Jordan, Faith Ringgold, Jamaica Kincaid, Jacqueline Woodson, Akwaeke Emezi, and Ja’Tovia Gary.
It’s just striking me now that all these people work in more than one genre or medium. Experimenting with different art forms is very important to my practice of being a human, and I’ve made it a goal of mine to take some more creative risks. Each of these artists makes me want to take a different risk.
What advice do you have for aspiring authors?
Figure out what kind of writer you are, and then don’t apologize for it. I’ve always felt a lot of pressure to decide that I’m a certain predetermined type of writer, and I still have to consciously resist the idea that there are right and wrong ways to write. I’m trying to give myself more grace as a storyteller by embracing the natural ebb and flow of my creativity throughout the year. It wastes valuable energy to worry if your process is conducive to award-winning work or if you follow the same daily schedule as your favorite writers or if other writers would laugh at the way you structure drafts. I’ve been stuck in those self-deprecating loops and it’s exhausting. It’s important to understand what works for you and why, but once you understand yourself (not that it’s a process that ever ends), embrace the ways you think rather than resist them. Find a rhythm, a time of day, a type of music, a noise level, and an outlining process that feels most compatible with your life and run with it. No need to make things harder on yourself; creating is hard enough.