I’ve always loved playing with words—playing with the rhythm of them, listening to how they sound when I string them together in my head or read them aloud. It’s one of the reasons I prefer revising over writing that tough first draft. Another reason is that I have trouble finding the “heart” in my stories…or at least that’s the story I’ve been telling myself for a really long time. Here’s an example…
A few weeks ago, I was on a Zoom call with two other picture book authors, brainstorming ideas for a proposal for an upcoming conference. One of the authors wondered if we should speak about finding heart in our stories, and my reply went something like this: “I really like that idea, except that it’s debatable whether my story has heart. It’s pretty analytical.” Well, I’ve had some time now to process that conversation…especially my response. If that same author said the same thing to me today, I would respond very differently.
When I was writing my debut picture book, Ernő Rubik and His Magic Cube (illustrated by the amazing Kara Kramer), I followed my heart. I could tell how passionate Ernő Rubik was about puzzles and, later, about finding a way to connect many small cubes to make a big cube that twisted and turned without falling apart. His process was quite analytical, but it resonated with me, and so did his passion. Before my editor acquired the manuscript, she told me she recognized my enthusiasm for the story. Full disclosure here…I’m a newly published author and still a little obsessed with following reviews of my book. So, someone I don’t know recently wrote this on Goodreads: “The author’s enthusiasm for Mr. Rubik’s cube, and his design process, was contagious.” Wait. What? Someone else recognized it, too? Could my OWN passion for the story be its “heart”?Not everyone who saw my manuscript before it
was acquired thought it had enough “heart.” But I’ve come to the conclusion
that, just as people have different ways of seeing and processing the world,
people have different ways of perceiving “heart” in a story. Maybe that just
means your story will resonate with some people more than others. And that’s
ok. Follow your heart, write stories you are passionate about, and your
enthusiasm will reach the right readers for your work!
About the author
Kerry Aradhya loves puzzling over words and
immersing herself in the creative process. She is the author of Ernő Rubik and His Magic Cube (Peachtree,
2024) and more than a dozen poems in magazines such as Babybug, Ladybug, and Highlights
High Five. When not writing for children, Kerry works as a science editor,
dances as much as possible (which unfortunately isn’t that much these days),
and volunteers with the nonprofit Society of Young Inklings. She lives in the
San Francisco Bay Area with her family and their cute but naughty pooch named
Sofie.

