How would you end this story? • Francesca Sanna (guest blogger)

The Picture Book Den welcomes guest blogger, Francesca Sanna. Her first picture book, The Journey, received wide acclaim and is endorsed by Amnesty International UK for reminding us that we all have the right to a safe place to live. Francesca's many awards include the 2017 Klaus Flugge Prize, which is presented to the year's most promising and exciting newcomer to children’s picture book illustration. 

In this blog post, Francesca talks about the debate surrounding the ending to The Journey.

My first book, The Journey, is the story of a family and of the journey they undertake when they realise their home is not a safe place anymore. As I briefly tried to explain in a note at the end of the book, it was inspired by many stories of many people I spoke with, from many different countries and backgrounds. A part of the research was even focused on historical documents about immigration in the early 1900. I didn’t want The Journey to be a specific story; I wanted it to convey the idea that everyone has to right to have a safe place to live. For this reason, in the book I try to give as little information as possible about where, or when, the story is set. 

The Journey by Francesca Sanna, Flying Eye Books 2016

A few months ago, during a reading with Year Two children in a school in London, a boy asked me, “How do you end a book that is inspired by a real story if that story is still going on?”

Questions are always a challenge, and I love the process of thinking about them and trying to come up with good answers – though I often fail – but I found this one particularly interesting. 
It made me think about another question I get asked quite often, mostly from adults: “Why does The Journey not have a proper ending?” The story I wrote does in fact have an ending, but it is a quite open one. The journey of the family we follow through the pages is not concluded in the usual way. Instead, the book ends leaving the family on their way to a new home, without showing any arrival, and this element has caused much discussion. Someone during a conference even told me I had cheated as I had gone against one of the main rules in children’s literature: a children’s book needs a happy ending. 

Journeying on the ferry, from The Journey by Francesca Sanna

A couple of years before I finished the book, I decided to do some research around the topic of immigration and in particular of refugees, because of what was happening (and sadly still is happening) in Italy, my home country, and in the rest of Europe.
 I was quite frustrated by having the same discussion over and over with people I knew, and by reading the comment sections of many posts on social media. In Italy the public opinion was – and still is – increasingly becoming more intolerant and turning against newcomers. When I first moved to study and work in other European countries (Germany first and then Switzerland) I saw that the same discussion and attitude was spreading there too. 

Border guard, from The Journey by Francesca Sann

I finished the illustrations for The Journey in May 2015, right before one of the worst moments of the refugee crisis in Europe. After that I was encouraged many times to change the ending of the story and to make the family finally arrive at their new home. I considered the idea and even tried some rough sketches of an ‘arrival’.

Finally, with the help of my publisher Flying Eye, I decided not to. Leaving the story open and the journey unfinished was, in my opinion, the best way to start a discussion on this topic with the children through a proper tool, a book, that gave to this discussion all the time and space needed. In this way I could give an ending to a story that still does not have one, leaving it open. 

Keep moving, from The Journey by Francesca Sanna

After the book was published, The Journey had its own journey. I had the wonderful opportunity to meet an incredible community of librarians, teachers, activists, and most importantly readers. I went around schools in different countries (Spain, Austria, UK, Italy, Germany and Switzerland) and saw the reaction to the book I wrote, discussing it with children and teachers.

Stories of escape, from The Journey by Francesca Sanna

The reactions to my open-and-maybe-not-so-happy ending were varied, as were the general responses to the book in every class and every school.
 Sometimes, when I read the story, I would finish reading the last lines and then I would have to say “and this was the last page of the book”. Normally this moment is followed by surprised gazes and a few whispered “What???”. Some of the children like the idea of different possible ways of ending the story on their own, while some hate the concept of a journey that does not reach the destination.

Migrating birds. Final image from The Journey by Francesca Sanna

Back at the beginning, my idea of a blank ending was more a symbolic idea, to leave to parents or teachers the space for a discussion with their children about what happens next. Later I took it more literally with workshops where children completed the story however they wanted. I'd read the story,  discussing some pages and the choices I made when writing and illustrating the story. Then I'd answer all their question until finally I'd ask them one question: how would you end the story?

“They buy a house and have a beautiful life!” An ending by Saphir, 7 years old

Drawing from a reading at the City Library of Geneva (Switzerland)
with children from Year 1 to Year 4

Further information
Amnesty International useful classroom resources on The Journey pdf 
The Klaus Flugge Prize
Francesca Sanna website

Are Pictures A Writer's Business? Pippa Goodhart

I teach courses on writing picture books, and quite often students tell me that they have been told by other teachers that there is a ‘rule’ that an author mustn’t include any notes about design or illustration along with their texts.  To me, that’s wrong.  Very wrong.  The joy of picture books is the playing of the words, the pictures, and the book itself, together to perform a story.  If the originator of the story, usually the author, isn’t thinking about aspects of the book beyond the words from the story's inception, the result is going to be more limited than it should be. 

There’s a reason why many of the very best picture books of all time (Rosie’s Walk, Elmer The Elephant, Goodnight Gorilla, This Is Not My Hat, Handa’s Big Surprise, and many more) have been written and illustrated by the same person.  By thinking of the pictures and words together, those author-illustrators have honed the two to work together in powerful ways.  It’s no surprise that most of those books have very short texts.  Creators who illustrate as well as write, trust the illustrations to show most of the story, and they then use the text to tease the reader into reacting to the pictures, or they use the text to bring the pictures to life with dialogue.  They know that children ‘read’ pictures, even when they can’t all ‘read’ texts yet. 

Publishers usually have both editors and designers, but, traditionally, it’s the editor who is the first gate keeper for a publisher, deciding which texts to let in to further discussions which might then include designers.  A recent publishing experience has made me wonder whether publishers should always work along that set path towards a book.

I had a picture book story idea about a rabbit who wants some space for himself, away from the noise and activity of the other rabbits around him.  So Jack, the rabbit, runs to an empty space, where he draws a red line to define ‘his’ space in which he can read his book in peace.  Of course he then finds that being alone in a space can become lonely, and he wants to re-join his friends, but is now stuck because he’s made the rule about nobody crossing the line.  You can read the book if you want to find out how that problem gets resolved!  But my point here is that I felt that story was one which could be mostly shown in pictures, and then need very little text.  In fact, I thought it would be better with very little text.  So I wrote the text, adding notes about what the pictures needed to show.  Here’s an early version on which my artistic sister had made comments and sketches.

And I drew amateur sketches too, just to help me work out quite how the book might work.

I sent my text with its illustration and design ideas to a couple of big publishers who had published me in the past.  They didn’t want it.  I don’t know if the preponderance of illustration notes put them off.  I hope not, and I suspect they just didn’t feel that story was for them.  But then I read about a new children’s book publisher that was emerging from an existing publisher of beautiful adult comic books.  That was Flying Eye, just starting up within Nobrow.  So I sent my story to Sam Arthur of Flying Eye.  He, and his partner in the business, are both from a design background.  Suddenly it was the design idea (coming from an author!) that was of real interest.  This felt so different from the way I'd worked with other publishers! 

Rebecca Crane illustrated My Very Own Space very beautifully, and Flying Eye have published it equally beautifully, with felty thick paper within a hardback cover with gloss highlights and a fabric trimmed spine.  All of Flying Eye’s picture books are beautifully conceived and produced, and they are winning major prizes (perhaps most notably Shackleton's Journey by William Grill winning the Kate Greenaway Medal).  So I wonder if other publishers should include designers alongside editors as first filters on story proposals that come in? 

Boast alert!  Last week My Very Own Space was the Observer’s Book of the Week - hooray!  

So, yes, do dare to add notes about potential illustrations or design … but do it wisely, explaining story content and presentation rather than stepping onto the illustrator’s toes by detailing visual things that have no direct relevance to the story.