by Tamara Ellis Smith & Nancy Whitesides

Nancy: Hello, Tara. Thank you! We are thrilled to be here to interview each other about our new book, GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT, releasing with Chronicle Books this Tuesday.

Tam, I’ve read about your fascinating childhood. Will you talk about it, and your eventual journey to becoming a writer? 

Tam: Thank you from me too, Tara! I love your blog and it’s exciting to be here.

Okay, onto Nancy’s question! As a kid, I spent a lot of time—like A LOT of time—pretending. My best friend and I played Little Women. I was Jo and she was Beth. I haven’t thought about that in a long time! We played in this great span of woods for hours. I guess it was kind of a mash-up of Little House in the Big Woods and Little Women!

Imaginary play relaxed me. I felt the same way about reading. And once I was able to write, pens and paper felt even better.

I loved what you’ve shared of your childhood and how important imaginary play was for you. You’ve written this beautiful, lyrical story, GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT. Please tell us about it.

Thank you for saying that Nancy, but my words are only half of why it’s beautiful and lyrical. You and your illustrations are the other half.

You and I have talked about this a lot—GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT is the story of our hearts. My son’s friend died, and my friend died, and GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT came pouring out of me.

Much later, as I was revising the story, my father went into the hospital for a surgery to mend his heart. But the surgery failed and six weeks later he died.

Grief absolutely became an elephant for me then. I breathed differently because of its weight. Megan Devine, a writer and grief advocate I really respect, said, “Loss and grief change our landscape. The terrain is forever different and there is no normal to return to. There is only the inner task of making a new and accurate map.”

GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT is part of that map. I often talk about how I write to explore questions I have—and isn’t that just like making a map? My biggest hope is that GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT can help kids make the map they need for their journeys too.

Thank you for sharing your grief experience, Tam. I appreciate you sharing even though it must be painful to talk about it. I also appreciate the quote you shared from Megan Devine. Please talk about your writing process and routine. 

I’m a slow writer. And because of the way my life is structured, I have to write before my kids and my other job. That means getting up at 5:15 AM and writing for about an hour. I love it. One of my favorite moments of the day is watching the world get light. Being up then feels magical. Like I’m a part of the team that brings on the day.

I’ve read about successful authors waking up early to have their writing time.

I write for a long time, revise a million times, and then hopefully make a book at the end. I once took a picture of all the drafts of my first novel lined up on my street. The line was endless!

Please talk about your writing hero.

So many writers are heroes, putting their essential truths into the world, even as stories and people and perspectives are being banned across the country. But I’ll name the writer who inspired me to become one. In college I was in a play written by someone I had never heard of—María Irene Fornés. She was a playwright, a director, a feminist. She was someone courageous enough to write in a way that made sense to her. Her word choices, the structures she created—she followed her own organic logic. She made me realize I didn’t have to write like the mainstream writers I knew; that I could write about the things that were important to me in my own way.

You are definitely doing something right, Tam. I know this from reading your work and your letters to me. You are a stupendous writer. If I can only use the word stupendous for one person it would be for you.

Thank you! Now I’ll jump in!

Nancy, will you describe living in the Philippines? You’re a self-taught artist and I wonder what parts of each landscape and culture and energy inform the way you see things and how you create your art?

Living in the Philippines, I remember being a sickly child and teenager, but I still loved to explore nature, climb trees, even swim in the river. I also remember when I was probably three or four, I drew a rudimentary face, and then soon afterwards drew about a hundred little faces all over the walls, as far as my arm could reach.  My poor mom.

Your poor mom!

Knowing and living with two cultures informs my art, and I try to draw with curiosity and an open mind. 

I incorporate environments I love if the story permits it. An example in our book is the double spread with the overview of the home, the distant hills and sky, and all the animals. This point of view is important to me because I’d seen it quite often as a child when I’d climbed to the very top of my favorite tall tree. I’d seen this landscape and loved looking at it. I wanted to set GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT in this beautiful world and share this with the children reading our book.

Nancy, I didn’t know that the landscape in that double spread came from your experience. Learning that kind of detail instantly makes that page, and the whole book, so much richer.

Every single time I look at our book, I am overwhelmed with the beauty of your artwork. You’ve told me some parts of your process, like how you wanted to express both a sense of grief and a sense of love in the eyes of the elephant (which you totally succeeded in doing!), but would you talk more about your illustration process?

Thank you so much, Tam. Your words helped inspire me! My illustration process begins with rereading your manuscript over and over while I imagine this world. 

Next, I draw sketches, thumbnails, storyboard and a dummy. Lastly, final art—adding paint, color, and digital media. 

These are more or less the technical steps. The more difficult part is adding depth and emotion, and working to make the physical image come close to what was imagined.  

Finally, I value the feedback our editor and art director gave me. Sometimes I thought, “Oh, that looks good.” But no, it sure didn’t. It was nowhere near where it needed to be. 

I had the same experience!

Okay, last question. Can you tell us one thing that totally surprised you as you worked on GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT?

One surprise is how you and I are matched so well including how your words and my art created this beautiful book we love, and how we have similar life experiences. I appreciate you even more.  

I was also surprised by how emotional I became while working on our book. I realized even more how much love I have for the person I lost. Grief and love truly are tied together. 

Absolute truth.

Thank you so much for having us here, Tara! GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT comes out on October 24 with Chronicle Books. We’re working on some activity pages and a few other surprises, so check out our websites or Instagram to learn more!

Congratulations on this lovely bok, Tamara and Nancy!

Blog readers, Tamara and Nancy are giving away a copy of GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT (US addresses only). Just leave one comment below to enter and a random winner will be selected at the end of the month.

The winner of the last giveaway, FIX AND STITCH, is Becki Kidd. Congrats, Becki, and expect an email from me shortly.

Tamara Ellis Smith lives in Vermont with her family. When she’s not writing books for children, she can often be found trail running on a river trail with her friends and dogs. She also hangs out on Instagram @tamaraellissmith and Pinterest @tamaras0259, and her website is tamaraellissmith.com. 

Nancy Whitesides is an author and self-taught illustrator born in Manila, and later moved to the US. Nancy’s art is imbued with colors and emotions, and often features nature and animals. Her work for GRIEF IS AN ELEPHANT was chosen for the prestigious Original Art Show at the Society of Illustrators in New York. Nancy also illustrated SMALL THINGS MENDED, written by Casey W. Robinson, forthcoming from Rocky Pond Books Spring 2024. See more of Nancy’s work at her website nancywhitesides.com and on Instagram @nancyillustrator.