I’m a maker.

I like to make all kinds of things—stories, pictures, teeny-weeny-tiny stuff, pumpkin bread, people happy. (And all too often in the process of making those things, a sticky mess.)

I’m not all that fond of cleaning up. But I’m getting better about it. Except on Tuesdays. And certain other days, when I’m very, very busy. Or kind of tired. 

I like to write stories that make people laugh—and connect with something important about themselves or others. I get my ideas from memories of my own childhood or my kids’ childhoods, from snippets of overheard conversation, from things I see or read, from folks I meet and talk with. You could say I’m a bit of Nosy Parker. But in a nice way, right?

My artwork is mostly mixed-media bas-relief. Those are fancy terms for simple ideas: first, I make my art from all sorts of different stuff, some of it real art supplies, but much of it odds and ends I’ve scavenged from my house and yard or rescued from the neighbors’ trash; and second, my finished work sticks out from a flat background. Kind of like a sculpture, but squashed onto a board. And stuck on with lots of glue. I love paper, fabric, yarn, wire, clay, interesting natural objects. And of course, all kinds of glue. And other sticky things. One of my biggest challenges is making things stay together!

Increasingly I’m experimenting with full-fledged 3D media—using dolls or stuffed animals that I make and then pose in small theater-like sets that I also construct. They’re kind of like dioramas (which I have always enjoyed making). I like the look of the characters in the set, and this approach also lets me reuse the same characters and props for different images, so I don’t have to make multiples of everything. For example, for my book Mimi alone, I had to make 65 different little pigs. Wearing clothes. Not to mention 25 stuffed rabbits and 9 roly-poly bugs. Whew—made me tired!

 After I make my bas-reliefs or arrange scenes, my work is photographed (these days mostly by me), and then the 2D photos with words added appear in the final book, just as if they were flat paintings or drawings used as illustrations. Sometimes people who have seen my actual artwork are disappointed that my books aren’t like pop-up books, and for that I apologize—but it would take me many years or lots of money to reproduce the actual art for thousands of books!

I have always loved taking art classes and I’ve had a passion for making my pictures into books for as long as I can remember—but I didn’t go to art school. I’ve had to create my own school, using ideas and tutorials from books, the internet, and other generous artists, as well as my own trial-and-error experiments. It’s a lot of fun but sometimes too time-consuming. Or frustrating—until I figure it out.

I also write books and articles for grown-ups. I have a Ph.D. in clinical child and family psychology, and I like sharing advice about one of the most complicated jobs in the world: being a parent. For many years I was the Baby Games columnist for Nick, Jr. Magazine, which was a great job because it gave me excuses to play with lots of different babies to make sure my suggested activities worked and that little guys liked them.  

Nowadays, I work from my home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In the cold, gray weather, I work at the kitchen table. It’s my favorite workplace because my kitchen is bright and cheerful. And near the chocolate I have stashed in a high cupboard. My husband, Steve, who is a law professor, wishes I would work in my studio upstairs. “Hide some chocolate up there,” I say, “and we’ll see if I feel like switching.” In the summer, I often work outside in our kids’ old treehouse. Most summers I have to share it with a family of robins that returns to nest on a cupboard in there. Someday I will do a story about them!

 Have questions about me or my art that I haven’t answered? Shoot me an email—I’ll do my best to answer promptly and fully.

 TL;DR: My fingers are currently glued together.