Interview with Jeanette Bradley, Author of “Something Great”

Something Great is inherently about creation, possibility, and wonder. What was the inspiration behind a story so devoted to this sense of openness of childhood?

A few years ago, I was teaching a maker art class for young kids.  Most of the kids were excited about solving specific maker challenges, and had very defined, goal-oriented concepts they wanted to build to solve the challenge.  But there was one child who spent the class experimenting with a few pieces of recycling and some string, discovering what adults would call the properties of simple machines. When I asked him to tell me about his creation, he said “It’s just… a thing. LOOK WHAT IT CAN DO!”  I loved this kid’s completely open-ended and unlabeled exploration of the world.

As a child (or even as an adult!), have you ever created a “something great”? Or if not, have your children? How would you describe it and what was the process of its creation?

A meta answer to your question is yes, I created the book Something Great. A lot of people (including some reviewers) don’t get it. When I teach open-ended maker workshops along with readings of this book, some adults struggle with my process-oriented approach to creation. They want a sample product and step-by-step directions for the children to follow so that everyone will end up with something deemed “good” by adult standards. 

There are so many different types of representation in children’s books, and we need all of them! It is clear, of course, to the reader that Quinn uses they/them pronouns, but their identity is never discussed. What made you choose this type of representation and have Quinn simply be, rather than make their identity a significant part of the story? 

It was very important to me to create a book in which Quinn just got to be themselves and there was no negativity or challenging of Quinn’s identity. I would argue, though, that Quinn’s identity is a significant part of the story. At its heart, Something Great is a story with a main character who doesn’t see value in labels and resists answering the question “what’s it supposed to be?” On one level it is a story about making and inventing and discovering in a mindset where process is more important than product, and on another level it is a metaphorical exploration of the experience of being agender. 

You have been the illustrator for books others have written, and you have written and illustrated your own books. Does your approach to illustrating change depending on whether or not you have written the words? What is your process like for each? 

My creative process usually starts with an image. For my book Love, Mama, I had the image of a container ship in the middle of the ocean at night, with a small but very important package aboard. I wasn’t sure why the package was important or where it was going, but the image was compelling and emotional enough that I had to write that story to find out. (The original image did not make it into the final book, though.) 

When illustrating someone else’s writing, I read their work several times and think about what images come to mind. I start with the parts that grab me visually, then do research and exploratory sketches until the rest of it comes to life. 

What do you enjoy most about working with young students when you visit schools?

Quinn allows themselves to just explore the materials they have on hand and how they interact with the world. Young children all have this capacity, but over time we learn to critique ourselves and believe that we have to follow directions to a defined outcome instead of exploring and enjoying the process. I love working with kids who are still open and excited about exploring the world around them, without the inner critic telling them their work isn’t good enough. 

I love when kids just explore materials with no end goal. Once while I was teaching a painting class, one child mixed all his paints together, and then shouted in astonishment “I made brown!” He never actually painted the assignment in that class, just spent the entire hour mixing paints together. It was fantastic to see his excitement over his process of discovery. He will forever remember that red and yellow make orange, because he discovered it himself.