Plus, I like having my own space. We all moved to Substack to escape social media algorithms, but I’m not convinced the same thing won’t happen here. I just want to carve out my own little corner, even if no one sees it. I don’t expect anyone to hang out on my site, but I’ll keep people posted with notes here and on Instagram, and I’ll finally dust off that email list I put together ages ago and never used.

On Saturday I went to a neighborhood festival and saw two friends selling their ceramics. Watching them display pieces they’ve refined over years made me think about how we decide when our own work is ready to be taken seriously. A lot of my former classmates sell their pieces. And yet I still feel like a beginner. Sometimes, even if you don’t feel ready, you just have to put a price tag on it and see what happens.

You can read about it on the blog if you’re interested, but mostly I wanted to say: I’m trying to share more of the process, not just the polished results. Which feels fitting, given that I’m building a community where people can get meaningful feedback at all stages of the creative journey.

Speaking of which—here’s where things stand:

Taking the Time to Get This Right

If you’ve been waiting for news about the community I’ve been working on, first—thank you for your patience. I know I said it would be ready by now, and here I am, still building.

Here’s what’s happening: I’m making progress. Like, actual progress. The kind where I can see how it’s all slotting together and it’s getting me genuinely excited about opening the doors.

But I’m also taking my time. Because I want it to feel different. This isn’t another course where an expert talks and everyone else listens—though we’ll certainly hear from plenty of experts! What I’m building is more of a conversation: a space where illustrators at every stage can give and get honest, thoughtful feedback.

It’s not about handing down answers—it’s about drawing out what’s already strong in your work and helping it grow so that its presence is undeniable. We’ll celebrate what’s working, but we’ll also get real about what needs improvement. Because that’s where real progress happens.

So yes, it’s taking longer than I planned. But I’d rather get it done right than get it done fast.

Here’s what’s taking shape

A space for connection.
A place to meet other illustrators who are just as passionate about their craft as you are. Somewhere to share wins, swap stories, and work through the tough parts with people who truly get it.

Weekly check-ins and monthly deep dives.
I’m building a rhythm that keeps us engaged and accountable. Each week, we’ll connect and support each other’s progress. Each month, we’ll dig into a big topic—things like focusing your style, expanding your audience, working with clients, and avoiding burnout. The goal is to make space for all those important parts of our creative lives we usually push aside, like uh….getting that newsletter out and updating your website!

Monthly skill-building assignments.
For those who like a bit of structure, I’m designing optional assignments to help strengthen your technical skills and push your creative boundaries. They’ll be more than simple prompts—think of them as focused challenges to help you grow faster and with intention.

Resources that actually help.
I’m creating practical, down-to-earth guides on things like giving and receiving meaningful feedback, navigating contracts, building your portfolio, and honing your artistic voice. The kind of insight you can put to use right away.

I’m building this with a lot of care and intention. Every piece is designed to foster the kind of growth that happens when you’re surrounded by people who understand your craft, cheer you on, and push you to keep reaching higher.

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What’s next

I have a few more nails to hammer in before I can open the doors. When that happens, you’ll be among the first to know.

In the meantime, if you have questions about what the community will include or how it’ll work, just leave a comment or hit reply. I’m happy to share more details.

Thanks for sticking with me on this. I know it’s been a while, but I promise—it’ll be worth it.

The first time this happened in my illustration career was back in 2018. I was at the Bologna Book Fair and had a brand new kidlit portfolio (my first!) and a full list of appointments.

This is how almost every review worked:

Me: *shows portfolio*

Reviewer: *looks through portfolio, finds something interesting, offers business card* ~OR~ *doesn’t find anything interesting, and doesn’t offer business card*

I walked a way with a lot of business cards, so I think I did pretty well. But did I gain any insight? Not really. Not until I met with an agent who spent a full fifteen minutes really talking to me about my portfolio. We’ll call her Cleo because I’m not 100% sure about her name and she’s not with that agency anymore anyway.

She was incredible! I got so much insight in such a short amount of time. She told me what was working and what wasn’t working, not just in each illustration but in the portfolio as a whole. She told me what she wanted to see more of and gave examples of other illustrators who were going in a direction she thought I could explore.

When I got home, I redid my portfolio, and soon after, I got an agent and landed my first book deal.

I struggled with whether or not to share any images, because at this point, even the After version is super old. My current work is executed with traditional materials, and I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. But I still like the compositions and thought it would be helpful to give some concrete specifics. I’m planning to take another stab at them, but if I waited to do that first, I’d never get this post out!

When I created the Befores, I was just starting to pursue illustration following a career in graphic design. I’d been working digitally for ages, and had done a ton of vector stuff in Adobe Illustrator. But I knew I wanted to bring texture into my kidlit work, so I had several hand-painted pieces in my portfolio, including the images here. I can say with hindsight that although the pieces showed some pretty good composition skills and a half decent understanding of light and color, the execution was very rough. I recall being influenced by illustrators with an organic, textured style (Katie Harnett comes to mind), and I just couldn’t execute on it. What’s more, I couldn’t see why I wasn’t nailing it. I was just too green.

Fortunately, Cleo could see where I was struggling, but also that my work had good bones. She suggested I lean into my strengths, tone down the texture, tighten up the shapes, and bring in colorful line to add the variation I’d been trying to achieve with brush strokes. The result was less organic than I was originally going for, but it was a much more marketable approach for me at the time and with my particular skill set.

Moments of clarity like the one I got from Cleo are so meaningful. Unfortunately, they’ve been few and far between. I can honestly say I wish I’d had more direction in the early stages of my career. I didn’t trust myself to commit to one style. And why would I? I still had a lot to learn and I knew it.

And I don’t know about you, but my brain lies to me all the time. Social media muddies the waters even more. There’s a big difference between making something good, and making something likeable. I know artists with a hundred thousand followers and no jobs. And many more who are busy with less than a thousand. Food for thought!

It’s taken a long time, but learning to trust myself has been a huge part of my creative journey. I know I’m much further along in my career, but good feedback is still just as important. I got some feedback recently from another agent that was just as meaningful as my review with Cleo, but this time, rather than telling me what to do, she validated a lot of what I was already thinking. It helped me realize I’m on the right track, that I can trust my intuition, and that I’m experienced and insightful enough at this point that I can set my own path, even when the world seems to be pulling me in a thousand different directions at once.

I hope to foster that kind of trust and clarity in this community, so others can skip ahead and not spend as much time as I did wondering what to focus on and chasing the wrong leads. (Or at least create sellable work while they chase them!) I have some ideas about how we might do that, and I’m always open to suggestions!

Now for some brief community updates:

I’ve chosen a platform.

I’m going with Mighty Networks. The main reason is it can do what we need it to, plus it has some really nice community features which will help in organizing critique groups. One thing it can do is show members near you. I’m part of a small community that uses MN, and met an artist in my city because of it. We’re so isolated as illustrators; anything that fosters real connection is a bonus!

I’ve decided not to go with Discord because I suspect trying to organize it for our purposes would be pure chaos. We’d have to thread everything, and those threads would clutter up the navigation. There are things I really like about Discord, but we’d have to jump through too many hoops to organize the conversation around multiple images, and I think the feedback could suffer as a result. Plus, Discord is going public, and they’ve already said that means more ads, so you know the enshittification is coming.

I’m not opening it to free subscribers...yet.

I’ve waffled on this one a lot, because the whole point of creating a community is to—well—foster community. But for now I think this substack will have to serve as the place for those who want to share in the feedback community’s discoveries but don’t have the bandwidth to invest at the moment. There might be a way to open it up down the road, but for now I’d rather take it slow.

Also, as a working artist, I need to be judicious about investing time away from my own work. Opening the platform to everyone will mean a lot more for me to moderate.

That said, regardless of whether or not there is a free section, I do want to create paths to the full community for serious artists who might not have access to the necessary funds. I want it to be affordable, but I recognize that that means different things to different people, and economies can vary wildly. So that’s something I’ll be thinking about and will plan to introduce after the initial growing pains.

Thanks to everyone who filled out the poll! That was really helpful, even if I did mess up one of the questions. It feels good to know there are so many ways to bring value to the community!

I’ll be spending the next couple of weeks building out the platform, and I’ll open the doors for a soft launch in September! I’ll keep you posted. Let me know if you have any questions!

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There are a lot of things I’m mulling over as I create this feedback community, and it’d be so helpful if you could weigh in. I’d love to get your opinion on these questions:

Are you okay using a new platform?

We might not have much choice here, but I’d like to gauge your feelings on this as I look into community options. The last thing I want is to ask people to download yet another app, but I also don’t want to use something that doesn’t quite work only to have to migrate to something else down the road.

Who should get access to the forum?

I tend to approach things with a the more the merrier view. But I also get the appeal of a small private community. So what I’m currently trying to decide is do I make the forum for paid members only, or do I make it open to all subscribers, with special features for paid members, like priority feedback, featured promotion, and private channels.

Keeping it private could mean there’s very little conversation in the early days. Making it open to subscribers would make it livelier. More illustrators means more people to provide feedback and to weigh in on issues. Paid members who are more selective about sharing works in progress can always do so in private channels.

For the record, it would still be invite-only so we can limit the number of illustrators if it starts to feel like too many.

Do you want your work shared?

It’s probably safe to assume most of you will be happy to have your work shared with credit, but it might be a different story if we’re talking about sharing the life cycle of a piece including works in progress. I wouldn’t share anything without prior approval, and it should be pretty easy to set up the community in a way that lets you pick and choose what you’re comfortable sharing. But for now I’d like to see what your preferences are.

Do you want paintovers?

If you haven’t seen these, paintovers are when someone takes an image of your art and draws over it to show a different way to approach or fix something you’re struggling with. It’s particularly helpful for more advanced techniques. For example, I’ve used it to help friends tackle a difficult perspective, add depth to a piece that’s feeling a little flat, and fix lighting that isn’t working.

Do you want private critique groups?

This might be way down the road, but if this community grows, I can see some people feeling uncomfortable getting feedback in front of a large group. I’d solve this by creating smaller groups so you can get feedback in a more intimate setting. I get that people can self organize, but if you’re shy about asking people to form a group, it might be nice for me to arrange it.

Do you want assignments?

I wasn’t initially considering assignments, because I don’t see this as a course. But the more I think about it, the more I can see a benefit. I really get the value of deadlines and of developing a cohort of people working together and holding each other accountable.

Something I feel very strongly about is that the assignments should be modular. They need to fit your goals and your style. Your portfolios need to look self-directed. I don’t want anyone looking at your portfolio and recognizing the same anthropomorphic cookie they’ve seen in a dozen other portfolios. Plus, some of you will be more interested in building out your product line than creating a portfolio, and the assignments should fit that.

Do you want to explore different techniques?

This is kind of an add-on to the assignments question, although it could live independently. Something I think could be interesting is doing a monthly deep dive into a skill you could incorporate into your work. This could be a focus on something like rhythm, repetition, lost edges, value grouping, gamut blocking, manipulating focus, or experimenting with different compositions.

Do you want to explore different illustration markets?

Here’s another add-on to the assignments question. Would you want assignments to apply to a specific market, e.g. children’s books, greeting cards, packaging, editorial, etc., or would you prefer that be modular, too? I expect many of you have already figured out which markets interest you, while some are still exploring.

Are you interested in being a guest mentor?

This isn’t a poll, but if you’re an experienced illustrator, art director or someone otherwise involved in the illustration business who’s comfortable giving feedback, send me a DM. It’s a nice way to give back to the community and to raise your profile at the same time since guest mentors will get featured in a number of ways.

I’m sure I’ll figure out some other things to get your input on, but that’s it for now.

Thanks!

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Heyo!

I’m still working on getting this feedback community off the ground. I got a little derailed by work and family stuff including a trip back home when my Dad was back in the hospital. He’s still doing well overall, it’s just that acute pancreatitis sucks and his case is one of the worst. We were told he’d probably be in and out of the hospital for months, but he’s still making a lot of progress.

If you missed it, this is the feedback community I’m talking about:

Not sure how many of you saw it, but I ran a teensy feedback test in my chat a few weeks back. I wanted to see if Substack’s built-in community features would work well for providing feedback. Thanks so much to the readers who shared work! For those of you who missed it, you can scroll up in the Picture Practice chat to check it out.

It was such a small test that I don’t want to make too many assumptions, but one thing I think is pretty certain is that Substack’s chat is not an ideal place for conversations around feedback. We need a more robust platform with different channels so we can organize by topic and have multiple asynchronous conversations. That was my hypothesis, but what’s a hypothesis if you don’t test it?

So here’s what I’m thinking: I want to pair Substack and Instagram with some kind of community forum that is made for conversations. The forum will be the place for sharing work, feedback, and having conversations around improving our art and creating career opportunities. I was planning to use Discord, but mentioned Discourse, which looks a bit more scalable so I’m looking into that. I’ve nixed a few other options, but I’m open to suggestions if there’s a platform you particularly like.

The community will be organized like this (to start):

• The forum is where we’ll share work and feedback, and have conversations around improving our art and creating career opportunities

• Substack is where I’ll feature artists and guest mentors, and share what we’re learning in the group

• Instagram is where I’ll share your work to a dedicated account to help amplify your reach

The frequency of the latter two are very much tbd. I believe in giving back, so building a framework that helps promote your work feels really worthwhile to me. At the same time, I’m a working artist so I need to make sure I dedicate enough time to my own practice. It’s all about finding the right balance!

So now that we’ve talked about software, let’s talk about framework.

I had a vision of a place where we would present reasonably polished work, get feedback, and then revise it. I’d share a few before and afters here on Substack and Instagram (for those who want the promotion) and talk about the feedback each artist received and how they responded to it. It would make a very neat and tidy story for promotional purposes, but is it realistic?

Once you’ve taken something to final, how often do you really want to go back into it? TBH, I don’t even want to do it when a client is paying me to! 😆

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my career as an art director and then illustrator, it’s that feedback should come early and often. It should be baked into the process. So there’s not really a shiny before and after to share. But there is a story of how a piece of art evolved over time, and I think that can be really helpful to see.

There’s still a lot to figure out. Fortunately I don’t need to figure it all out by myself, so I’m putting together a poll so you can weigh in on what appeals to you. I’ll send it out next Monday, so keep an eye out for it. Thanks!

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You guys, I’ve had this idea in my head for a while now and it absolutely won’t go away. It’s something I really want to exist, so I’m gonna make it exist! And I’m telling you about it first.

It’s a program designed to give illustrators affordable, high-quality, career-supporting feedback.

Feedback is so crucial to leveling up. I’ve been able to channel constructive feedback into great leaps forward in my portfolio, and I’ve gotten to work on really cool projects as a result.

But I also dropped a ton of money on it through courses and conferences. And honestly the ratio of feedback-to-expense in these situations is ridiculous. For example, here’s money I’ve actually spent:

• $350+ per course with an industry pro where feedback wasn’t guaranteed. I got some but a lot of students didn’t.

• $50 for a conference, plus over $1000 in travel expenses where feedback wasn’t guaranteed. I did get really useful feedback from one agent, though.

• $800 for a conference, plus ~$500 in travel expenses, where I didn’t get any feedback. It could have for an $100+ but the slots were filled up.

Of course that’s not even including art school!

Ways to get feedback I haven’t paid for:

• $1000-$5000 for a small group/mentorship program where high-quality feedback is guaranteed

• $150+ for a portfolio review (this can be a great deal!)

Don’t get me wrong, it’s all worth it if you can swing it, because good feedback is priceless. And the people who give it have worked hard building their skills and careers and 100% deserve to be compensated for their time. But it’s so far out of reach—especially in the early days of building an illustration career—that it can feel a bit like gate-keeping.

And while there are free ways to get feedback, they require time investments and a good deal of luck, e.g., cold-emailing a professional and hoping they get back to you.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about how to make high-quality feedback more accessible, and I’m gonna test it right here on Substack. I’m creating a program that will allow serious and aspiring illustrators to get direct feedback from me and guest industry pros as well as members of the community. I plan to foster meaningful criticism to help us all push beyond the homogeneity of social media-fed art styles to something truly special.

When and how much?

My plan is to go live in early August. At the same time, I’m so excited about it, I kinda want to start right away! Would any of you be interested in a beta program? Would you want to work out the kinks with me, or would you rather come in once it’s all ready to go?

Pricing

I’ve done the math, and in order to make this work, I have to raise my subscription price. Right now it’s set at $50 USD/year, but to give the kind of support I want to deliver, I’ll need to keep the group reasonably small.

My plan is to have an introductory rate of $100 USD/year for the early birds, and after that it’ll go up to $150/year. Monthly subscriptions are available, too.

I know I haven’t even talked about what this program will include, but I wanted to talk about the price change up front, so that my readers can get grandfathered-in at the current rate (if that appeals to you).

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It’s my hope to eventually offer scholarships and pricing-parity for illustrators in different economic environments, but for now, getting grandfathered-in is the most affordable way to go.

Over the next several weeks I’ll share what I’m working on and let you know what the program will include. I’ve been working hard on building out the framework, and I think it’s gonna be such a win-win for this community!

This new adventure will have me sharing more art from the community and less of my own. I’m going to dust off my very neglected blog and start a new mailing list separate from Substack. If you want to join, you can sign up over on my website at jennifermpotter.com. I’d love to have you on board!

This week I illustrated a new piece, and I <gasp!> did it twice. I’m not typically a do-over kind of gal. Usually if I run into composition problems, I’ll scan the piece in and make adjustments in Procreate…because there’s often stuff I want to preserve, bits and pieces that are working, and plenty of stuff I don’t want to have to draw again. But when something’s not quite gelling, moving to a space where everything is possible can create more confusion in a Should I move this here? Or how about over here? Oooh maybe here! kind of way. So I wanted to see what would happen if I nixed all that trial and error and started from scratch.

Wanna see how it went? I’ll share the ins and outs of what I thought was working, what I thought definitely wasn’t working, and how starting over panned out.

Round 1: FIGHT!

Here’s the concept: A little girl is reading to her stuffed animals. Unbeknownst to her, a crew of real animals have gathered at the window behind her to listen to the story.

I started out with thumbnails. Very chicken-scratchy, I know.

In the top two, I explore whether or not I want to do an angled view or a straight-on view. I opted for an angled view, which is usually a bit more interesting to me.

In the middle thumbnails I’m starting to explore light. On the left, I’m thinking about how the window will be darker than the room, and on the right, I’m trying to decide if I want to include a visible light source (I don’t).

In the bottom two, I’m digging into light a bit more and starting to think about color.

Here I’ve jumped into line art. I’m working with watercolor pencils, and they don’t erase well, so I started with a pale yellow which can wash away pretty easily. Then I overlaid that with pink which is easier to see, but also pretty easy to dilute on the page. This second layer helped me refine my sketchier lines.

I didn’t nail the girl at first, so I went back and did a few trials in my sketchbook before laying in the pink.

Here I’m laying down values, aka the scariest phase! Honestly I think this is where things started to go awry. I wanted to create a separation between warm and cool areas of the image, but I think I was a little heavy-handed with the yellow.

I also painted the foreground animals individually instead of grouping them together within a shape of light like I should have. The contrast of each animal silhouetted against the darker ground makes them stand out, but they’re not meant to be the focus of this piece.

I kept things light because of the additive nature of watercolor, so none of this seemed like a big deal at this stage, but it didn’t do me any favors.

Love that texture, though! I’ve spent so much time in Procreate trying to fake the organic chaos that happens instantly with water and pigment.

Here I redefine my lines so I can keep layering without loosing my guides.

At this point I’ve laid in a lot of color, and I can start to see that things aren’t working. There are some magic moments, I love the rabbit in the background and the weight of the raccoon plushie in the foreground.

But the piece is feeling flat. The bear and deer in the background take up so much space but they’re just standing there. They’re obviously listening, but they’re too static.

And the yellow in the foreground is too saturated. Since that’s supposed to represent the lightest area of the room, it’s forced me to saturate everything else to try to balance it out.

This is where I started to consider if I wanted to scan it in and keep going. I could solve the problem with the yellow in Procreate, but the composition feels off, too. It’s looking more like a head-on view instead of the angled view I’d intended. And the kid wasn’t particularly engaging either.

I like this guy though:

Naturally I didn’t want to start over. I’d invested a solid chunk of time, and since I was still pretty solidly in the ugly phase, I had a sense I could improve on what was there if I kept going. But I’m trying to level up and that means breaking my weaker patterns. So after waffling a bit, I decided it wouldn’t kill me to start from scratch. Sigh.

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Round 2: FIGHT!

I went back to thumbnails again. I wanted to clarify my vantage point, and to take another stab at the animals in the background.1 I decided to change the deer to a moose, mostly to simplify the antler situation. And I wanted to get the bear more engaged. I also decided to draw in the window this time, rather than using the ol’ “fix it in post2” technique.

So here I am, back at it, bear hugs, window panes, and all.

This time I laid down my first lines very lightly in graphite. Then I went around the page erasing graphite lines and replacing them with watercolor pencil. This is why my lines look much more confident in this round. Well, that and how many times have I drawn this comp now?

I feel much better about this version. The angles and scale feel much better.

The scary part again! This time I decided to warm up the whole image and lean on pure dark vs light for my base texture. I grouped all of the light and shadow into two pretty distinct zones, which makes the whole composition simpler, despite having the same number of elements.

I went back over my lines, but because I left space unpainted this time, I only had to go over the lines in the shadows. As I look at it now, I realize I could’ve omitted some of those, too. Some of the shadows are so nice and would benefit from lost edges3. Definitely something to explore next time.

Getting there! At this point I started to wish I’d made the quilt simpler. But I’m loving the texture in the top/shadow portion of the piece.

Here I laid down a wash to mellow out the quilt. Then I added in some darker squares to bring some of the geometry back. I wasn’t sure about it, but I think it ended up working okay. I also added stripes to the girl’s sweater to balance out the raccoon’s tail. I think it drew too much attention without a bit of pattern spread throughout the piece.

VICTORY!

Here’s the final piece after scanning and touch ups. I know it looks pretty different but I think a lot of that can be attributed to the difference between a quality scan and a quick snap with my phone.

Here’s what I did digitally: I adjusted the light levels. I added a couple of color overlays with the Soft Light blend mode (some cyan in the foreground and magenta in the back). I lightened the quilt in front of the plushies a little. I tweaked the girl’s face, and I darkened the animals and sky in the window area a bit.

That’s way less digital work than I would’ve done if I’d worked from the first image. And while I can’t say for certain, I think I would’ve spent more time trying to fix the first image than I did by doing a whole new one. And it probably still wouldn’t be all that great. Getting it mostly right before scanning makes it much easier to use a light touch when I’m doing clean-up.

And now my background bun has a bestie:

I realized these two popped up in an older piece, also in the background.

I’m gonna have to do more with them!

On My Radar

While I was in the hospital with my dad, quietly started posting to Substack. I’m sure she needs no introduction, but just in case, she’s one of the best illustrators I know, and a really awesome human to boot. Plus every publishing person I know loves her work, so go subscribe. You might learn something!

Serendipiting

Serendipiting: the art of life happening, sprinkling in magic as needed. Picture books, illustration, story building, a little rebellion, hope and color. Let's make things together.

By Devon Holzwarth

I stumbled upon this podcast a couple of days ago and really enjoyed it. Matthew Forsythe is one of my favorite author/illustrators, and he spends a good deal of time talking about story craft in this interview.

On My Mind

For those of you wondering, my dad’s still improving. He’s still got a long way to go but his physical therapist seems to think he’s way ahead of the curve considering what he went through. He can walk down the block. And the last time he went to church he was able to use a cane instead of a wheelchair. And he even sat in on bass with the church band (although he might have overdone it a little). He’s thinking he may be ready to drive in a month.

I’m so happy about his progress! Whether you’re sick or not, having little goals to focus on means everything when your whole world has been yanked out from under you. Mindset is so important! His pancreas hasn’t fully healed yet, and I’m not sure it ever will, but he’s slowly getting his strength back, and I find that very encouraging.

Until next time!

This year started off with a lot of creative energy and hope for me. I set out my goals early in January and started work on them right away. I felt so productive! And then my world changed.

On February 2nd, my dad was here helping me fix my dishwasher, getting up and down off the floor, moving things, tightening things. On February 3rd, he went to the hospital for a low-risk outpatient procedure, and that night he went to the emergency room with severe pain in his abdomen. He was set up in a hospital room and I arrived the following day, just in time to see him go into respiratory failure, followed by atrial fibrillation. He was moved to IMCU and stayed there for the next six weeks. He couldn’t get enough oxygen so they put him on a ventilator. He couldn’t eat, so they put in a feeding tube. Eventually he couldn’t get out of bed.

Some of you will remember that my dad was sick last fall. We were in the hospital for a week then, and I thought that was bad. That’s what I was expecting this time around. I guess the last time the procedure aggravated his pancreas a little. This time it aggravated his pancreas a lot.

The pancreas is something I haven’t thought too much about. I know it’s responsible for insulin production, and I know I eat entirely too many sweets, but other than that it’s just there. Like an appendix or a spleen.

But oh boy you do not want to piss it off. One of the doctors said, "We have three rules. Eat when you can, sleep when you can, and don’t fuck with the pancreas.”

Well, my dad’s pancreas got fucked with. And it came very close to killing him. I won’t go into detail, but it was really brutal. One of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. Certainly the hardest thing my dad has been through. And we’ve been through some stuff.

He’s okay now. He was discharged from the hospital, went to an in-patient rehab facility for three weeks, and is now home. He’s still very much recovering and probably will be for another year.

It’s so insane how quickly things can change. I know watching your parents age (if you’re lucky enough to have them around) is one of the more challenging parts of getting older yourself. You expect them to lose strength and mobility eventually, but it’s still hard to prepare yourself for it. Still, I thought it would be later. My dad was exceptionally healthy. He walked a couple of miles a day and was on zero medications. Now he can barely walk across the room and takes a dozen pills a day.

It’s tough, but he’s got a good attitude and is putting in the work and is improving a little each day. And he’s got a good support network. I think he’ll get it all back. It’s just gonna take time.

As for me, I dropped everything that was droppable. I took my iPad to the hospital so I could keep up with my client deadlines, but all other projects got pushed to the wayside. I’m now in the process of trying to dust them off and reignite the same fired-up energy I had in January.

Showing up here is the first step. I’ll have more art-related stuff to share in the near future but I didn’t feel I could jump back in like nothing happened.

I want to close this with a shout out to healthcare workers. I encountered so many over the last few months and the vast majority were seriously amazing. By the end, I had my favorites, but that list was long. I’ll never forget them and how much they helped support us through this intensely difficult time with kindness, compassion, and humor.

I promptly set aside a bunch to give away to friends and family, but of course I reserved a couple for myself. After all, I am duty-bound to assemble my own puzzle, right? What better way to learn what works and doesn’t work?

I promptly opened the compostable bag the pieces came in and…wow…that’s a lot of pieces. Not sure when I last did a 1000 piece puzzle, but it’s been a while.

Not gonna lie, I came at this with a bit too much bravado. I assumed I knew the image so intimately that I’d have the puzzle together in no time. Dare I say…an hour? Maybe two? Cue the hysterical laughter.

I dove right in assembling a few elements that I knew worked together, but it wasn’t too long before I gave in and went with the classic edge-first approach.

I also thought I wouldn’t have to reference the illustration on the box but, yeah…I definitely did. To be fair, it’s been a year since I worked on this illustration. I’m just gonna go ahead and blame that.

I quickly learned that I find long straight lines and small areas of tiny patterns the most satisfying elements to assemble. Probably obvious in retrospect, but there’s no substitute for hands-on experience. I’m already thinking about how I’ll continue to leverage those elements in my next puzzle.

In Part 1, I referenced illustrating in zones and this is what I was talking about. When working on the illustration, I didn’t think there was that much blue plaid. But when working on the puzzle, it feels like more, especially at the beginning when I had dozens of similar pieces in front of me. Fortunately I use shadow and perspective in my work, so I had different shades of blue and different scales and angles of plaid to guide me. The chair spindles helped, too. Without those clues, I’d have had to rely on trial and error rather than logic to determine which piece goes where, and that’s less fun for me.

Another example is this window. As with the chair spindles, the dark trim around the panes helped provide structure and kept the background from feeling too nebulous.

Lines and pattern aren’t the only way to provide clues. The blue of the cabinets is significantly darker on the left than on the right. The angles on the trim provide another clue. Thanks to the perspective, I could tell right angles went on the left and acute and obtuse angles went on the right.

While perspective and lighting helped me keep things distinct, you don’t have to use them if they don’t work naturally for your style. Varying pattern, hue, and texture can all provide waypoints for future puzzlers.

It’s all about balance. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want things to be too easy. Why even bother with a 1000 piece puzzle if that’s the goal? But I’m the kind of person who can’t look away from a challenge so if it’s particularly tricky, it’ll just suck away all my time and I’ll find myself wanting to burn it all down finish just so I can get my life back.

I gotta say it was really fun and felt balanced to me, which is all due to eeBoo being so experienced and generous with their guidance. I don’t think it would’ve turned out nearly as fun if I was left to my own devices! But I’ve got so much more insight now!

And of all the things I’ve learned I’d say the most important is to check and double-check when you hear a tile fall on the floor. Especially if your household includes tiny goblins with no self-control.

Key Takeaways

If you’re interested in illustrating puzzles, here are some things to consider. Naturally they will vary by publisher:

• Puzzles aren’t just about the image itself. It’s also about the process of assembling the image.

• Illustrate in zones. If you ensure the green you use in the grass at the bottom left is distinct from the green in the trees on the top right, your puzzle will be less challenging (or frustrating depending on what level of difficulty the customer is looking for).

• Puzzles generally have a lot of detail. That means that even though it’s one image, it’ll take a lot longer than most other projects. And you’ll have to do lot more photo research if that’s your thing!

• Puzzles are usually big, so you’ll need to illustrate at a fairly large scale which can slow down your process further. If you’re working with a slower computer, you’ll notice more lag with a large file. If you work in Procreate, you may find yourself running out of layers. If you work traditionally, you’ll (likely) have to scan in sections and do more touch up than usual.

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On My Radar

Since I’m writing about puzzles, I thought I’d share one of the best puzzle video games I’ve played recently, in case you’re a fan, too. It’s called: Lorelei and the Laser Eyes.

This game is weird in the best way. It feels like a cross between a Fellini and Argento film, but it’s also firmly grounded in the computer/burgeoning video game age. In any case it’s very imaginative and loaded with opportunities to challenge the little grey cells and feel like a smarty-pants.

My husband and I played it together last month and were both really impressed by the breadth and quality of the puzzles, so if that’s your thing, you’re welcome!

As you can imagine, I was thrilled when eeBoo contacted me back in 2023 about doing a puzzle with them. I see their puzzles everywhere and I’m always drawn to the gorgeous art. I know quite a few illustrators who work with them, so I always look to see if I recognize anyone. And now I might get to find my art right alongside them one day!

eeBoo asked me if I could illustrate a puzzle for their popular Kitchens series. It just came out, so I thought I’d share the process. This wasn’t my first puzzle, but it was the first time I got to work with a team that was so experienced and knowledgeable about designing puzzles, so I learned a lot while working on it.

Round 1

eeBoo gave me some initial direction, and here’s the rough I came back with.

Can you see my mistake?

Anyone who’s done a puzzle before will spot it right off the bat. That top border is a puzzle nightmare!

Y’all know that I do a lot with lighting, and my thought was that the subtle variation in shade would ensure no one mistook one piece for another, but eeBoo encouraged me to think about the customer’s experience when putting the puzzle together. A whole border of similar pieces could come across as tedious. They encouraged me to create something with discrete colors and shapes that connected more obviously. They encouraged me to design in zones.

Round 2

I took out the crown molding and replaced it with a much bigger, more varied border. I also ran the leaves of the hanging plant along the top of the window and left side of the border to create a zone of connected leaves.

I also added in some rough color. Here you can see my natural instinct to distinguish the inside and outside via different exposures. I also kept the cabinetry light to help distinguish the foreground from the midground.

This was a good start, but eeBoo’s style is pretty bright, and they asked me to bump up the saturation, inside and out. There were also a few spots that needed more detail, and they wanted to break up the large picture window with a shelf so we could add another zone and more objects.

Round 3

Brighter colors, more detail. eeBoo approved the changes, so it was time to light everything.

Round 4

I tightened up the paint and added light and shadow. Only .0000043 people are going to care about (or even notice) this, but it’s a little weird for me to have direct light shining through the window on the surfaces, and not have the window be completely blown out. It’s also strange to include a bright hanging lamp in that situation.

But I know I can be too literal, and sometimes you need to make sacrifices based on what’s right for the product. Would an overexposed background be as striking or as fun to put together as a vibrant, colorful one? Probably not.

Finished Product

Here’s the mockup eeBoo made for their site. I’m really happy with how it came out! It definitely (appropriately) feels a little more decorative than my typical kidlit style, but I can still imagine how fun it would be to pore over a spread like this, so it doesn’t stray too far. Plus, it looks good in their catalog and sits nicely along with their other products, which is important. I hope they get a lot of orders! Let me know if you see it any shops!

Next week I’ll talk about the actual product and share my key takeaways. See you then!

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On My Radar

Delulu is the Solulu

Last week I shared a post entitled Do it Anyway which was inspired by my friend Louise’s experience choosing the concept of delulu as her word of the year for 2024. Louise has written a post about her experience first-hand and talks about the benefits in depth:

Louve Draws

My year of delulu, part 1?

I felt compelled to write since my good friend Jennifer Potter keeps writing about me which I truthfully am equal parts embarrassed and honored by (embarrassed because we got Substack in a similar ti…

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2 years ago · 1 comment · Louve Draws

Is Flashes the answer?

There’s an Instagram-like client for Bluesky currently in development called Flashes. I like the idea, but I’m not sure it will be the answer to all my prayers.

I was an early adopter of Bluesky. I got on the waiting list before it was launched because I like the idea of a decentralized, open-source social media platform. For that reason, I still support it, but I’ve never really been able to get into it. It’s too much like Twitter, meaning there’s too much text.

Which is a silly thing to say as I type over here on this very text-heavy platform, but it’s different. Substack is slower, more meaningful. When it comes to feed full of lots of little things all vying for my attention, I guess I prefer it to be more visual. I can make quicker decisions about what’s worth my attention.

Flashes will repackage Bluesky so it looks more visual, which might be all it takes for me to get into it. Then again, it may be less about the look, and more about the content. People participate on Bluesky (and Twitter) differently than Instagram. The conversation is more active, more fast-paced. Every time I take a peek it feels like I’ve missed the moment. There’s a timeliness to it that seems to require consistent presence, and I just don’t want to be that present on social media these days. I have too much I want to accomplish offline. Give me the digest please.

But if others like me find that a new client allows them to engage in a different way, then maybe it’ll work. Maybe it will actually replace Instagram. I’m certainly open.

On My Mind

Last year my friend Louise, aka , introduced me to the concept of delulu. It was her word for the year.

The term, which originated in the k-pop community and has a decidedly Anna Delvey ring, is derived from the word delusion and has come to mean something akin to fake it ‘til you make it.

Its advocates range from those who follow the “laws of attraction” model—vibrate at a high enough frequency (whatever that means) and the universe will grant all your wishes—to those who subscribe to a practical, action-oriented model. Louise is very much in the latter camp, and it was a joy to see how much she accomplished in 2024 by setting aside her doubts and taking action.

Case in point: Not only did Louise surpass her goals for the number of art markets she wanted to sell at in 2024, but she also established a whole new market in her city. She was nervous about it, and I’m sure some part of her tried to convince herself that she wasn’t yet qualified to develop a market, promote it, find vendors, and then manage the entire thing. But it was her “year of delulu,” so she set aside her doubts and did it anyway.

It went well, and the people who own the venue where it took place have already asked if she’d add an additional market this year. If she wasn’t qualified before, she certainly is now!

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It seems like everyone is benefitting from adopting a word or theme for the year, and after seeing Louise’s success I decided to jump on ye olde bandwagon. I considered going delulu, too. After all it’s a little freeing, a little rebellious to acknowledge that you may be deluding yourself and go after your dreams anyway. It’s a good counter to the trap we often find ourselves in where we don’t apply to the job/grant/residency/whatever because we’re (god forbid) only 90% qualified.

But I’ve arrived at another option. It’s the anyway part that really resonates with me. Because my brain is noisy, very noisy. And if there’s one thing I can count on, it’s that it will show up to the goals party with zero snacks and plenty of reasons why it’d rather be doing literally anything else.

I know I’m not alone. Have you ever thought, I can do anything as long as there’s a deadline and people counting on me? And yet transferring that energy to your own goals is sooo hard sometimes.

Well not this year. This is my year. Because my motto is Do It Anyway. There will be noise. There will be chaos. There will be a thousand attempts to redirect my attention to the next shiny thing. But I know what I plan to accomplish this year, and it doesn’t matter which excuses my brain throws at me.

I’m going to do it anyway.

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On My Desk

My first puzzle with eeBoo is out!

Making puzzles is pretty fascinating. I’m working on a post to share some of the things I learned while making this one, so if that’s something you’re interested in adding to your repertoire, keep an eye out.

Every year my dear friend Tanja Stephani sends me the most wonderful calendar of art she made throughout the year. It’s such a joy to receive, and although part of me wants to be surprised, I can’t help but go through and pick my favorite months out ahead of time.

This year, I’ll be looking forward to May, August, September, and November most of all. Since I’ve set November as a deadline for most of my 2025 goals, I know those festive felines (center, top) will mean crunch time!

And doesn’t May (bottom, right) make you want to draw nothing but cats with fully bellies and tiny heads now? So charming!

There was a point when we were paid in promotion. I think I got 2000 followers the first year we did it! These days it’s closer to 200 (which I recognize is nothing to sniff at). But that’s how Instagram is now, and that’s not why I do it. To be honest, I’m not totally sure why I do it.

I suppose it’s just nice to be part of something that so many people connect with. I really love the Love Fest aspect of it (see Part 1 for the glossary of art challenge terms). And I definitely get Challenge Grin when I read people’s comments. And occasionally I’ll see a Challenge Discovery hit the algorithm jackpot. That’s really cool! They’ll go from virtually unknown to suddenly everywhere. I love seeing people level up! I’ve even seen a few agents and book deals come out of it. Knowing I’ve had an eensy weensy hand in supporting an artist’s career is a really nice feeling, something I want to really tune into. Because Folktale Week is a rollercoaster!

For every Challenge Discovery, there are countless artists grinding away without much fanfare. Occasionally I’ll get a message from one who says something like “I’ve followed all the rules, but I don’t think anyone is seeing my work.” Assuming they’re polite about it—and they usually are—I’ll engage right away and often share, too. But the truth is, it’s just too hard to keep up with all the art. And of course Instagram is making it harder to surface new work every year. It’s really frustrating. I want to see and engage with everyone, but I’ve had to let go of that responsibility. All I can do is my best.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. I think I just wanted to talk about that feeling of wanting to support everyone and not being able to.

I got a rejection a couple of weeks ago. It was a thoughtful and warm-hearted one, and I got the impression the sender was feeling the same as me, speaking from that genuine desire to support everyone while knowing you need to prioritize what’s sustainable for yourself. It was such a nice letter, I’m not even bummed.

Rejection comes with the career, so maybe I’m just used it by now, but I wonder if running a challenge is a good way of helping you cope with rejection when you find yourself on the other end of the equation.

Could this be a hidden benefit?

If any of you are thinking about running a challenge and want to know what we did to make Folktale Week special, let me know. I think timing was a factor, as there weren’t any group challenges in the Illustration world at the time (that I know of), and it was much easier to get seen on Instagram back then, but there was also some real strategy that went into it.

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And now for some more of my Folktale Week favorites! I’m only scratching the surface; there were so many excellent pieces! But I had to draw the line somewhere or I’d be here all day!

As with Part 1, all images are linked, so feel free to check out the rest of these participants’ pieces and show them some love.

Did you discover any new artists this Folktale Week? Did you connect with any new followers?

Until next time!

But first, I’ll share a glossary of terms. The sheer volume of activity during Folktale Week brings a set of unique phenomena which makes it necessary to update your vocabulary!

Art Blindness

The Condition of somehow missing exceptional work despite spending hours on your phone searching for art. See Art Tsunami

Art Overwhelm

A condition brought on by the sense that so many artists are doing incredible work you might as well pack it in

Art Tsunami

The overwhelming volume of awe-inspiring art that comes out of a popular challenge. Often leads to Art Overwhelm

Challenge Bump

A sudden uptick in challenge-related follows

Challenge Discovery

Becoming acquainted with an artist who was previously unknown to you but is now seemingly ubiquitous

Challenge Grin

A facial condition of involuntary smiling, generally brought about by exposure to Challenge Love Fest

Challenge Love Fest

The phenomena of kindness and reciprocity that happens when artists enthusiastically engage with fellow challenge participants

Challenge Thumb:

A lingering pain in the thumb (or fingers) that comes from spending way too much time liking, commenting, and sharing art

Support Deficiency Syndrome

A sense that you want to promote every artist, but there are so many and you are one person (likely suffering from Challenge Thumb and Art Overwhelm)

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And now for some Folktale Week favorites! All images are linked, so feel free to check out the rest of these participants’ pieces and show them some love.

Let me know if any of these artists are new to you. Making new discoveries is the best!

Stay tuned for Part 2!

Allow me to cut to the chase:

Here are the rules:

Starting Nov 18, share your art by interpreting each daily prompt in any way you wish in any medium you want. We invite artists of all genres and all levels to join the fun!

When you’re ready to post:

1) Tag @folktaleweek in your image. This way, everyone can see your work under the ‘tagged posts’ section.

2) Use the custom hashtags for each prompt. Just add the prompt name after #folktaleweek for each piece so we can find your lovely (or chilling!) art! Use #folktaleweek2024 and #folktaleweek as well.

3) Add the list of hosts to your image caption. We want to celebrate your stories and art and follow along with your tales!

Folktale Week 2024 and all its magic is brought to you by these talented artists below!

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Let the enchantment begin!

I hope y’all will join us! I’d love to see how we might bring some of the Folktale Week energy to Substack. Or vice versa!

First up, thanks to everyone who reached out about my Dad. He’s doing really well. Thanks for the support! 💕

I’ve been working on some personal pieces lately, and for once, I had the presence of mine to document the process a bit.

I knew I wanted to include these new pieces in my portfolio, so I did a little planning up front. I try to add new work every year, and if I don’t plan, I usually find myself scrambling to add something-anything, but that’s not always the most cohesive approach. So much of the work I do can’t be shown for well over a year, so my available stuff ends up being something I made for a random challenge, or possibly a one-off for a competition.

That’s where the planning comes in.

I like to make a list of things I want to include, just to get the pistons firing. This time around my list was too long and open-ended. I think it’s better to focus on a few things you really want to showcase. The first time I did it, I think I had light, perspective, action, and maybe a few other things, and I believe that was a better approach.

We’re often given a long list of what to include in our portfolios, but you can’t practically put everything in there. At some point you have to let go and trust the agent/art director/whoever to read between the lines.

After making my list, I sat down and did a whole bunch of thumbnails. I noted which ones I wanted to take to final by adding dashed lines underneath. I think I have about a dozen thumbnails. Who knows when/if I will get to them all. My goal for this summer was to do at least four. I’m happy to report I succeeded.

I drew the line art in Procreate and printed it out on Strathmore 400 Series Colored Pencil Paper. I like the paper a lot, because I use watercolor pencils and it holds up to my water brush. What I don’t like is that it only comes in books, so I have to punch each page out along the perforations. I suppose I prefer that to gummed blocks. Seriously, those things are evil. If you are the type of person who somehow manages to extricate your precious art without tearing it to shreds, then you are surely a witch and I need to know what spell you use.

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All that is to say, I’m currently accepting suggestions for 80-ish pound paper that prints nicely, takes water, and doesn’t require making a pact with something nefarious in order to remove.

Pro tip: I keep my set of Pan Pastels in my Ikea Alex cabinet, toward the top. I’ll often reach over and swipe a bit of pastel, so it kinda expands my desk space…

Which get's chaotic quickly. Who else here justifies buying the fancy yogurt in order to “organize your materials?”

I keep my pencil shavings in the mints tin. I got it in Amsterdam. It makes me feel very cosmopolitan.

Work in progress.

I have developed a (bad?) habit of dabbing my tools on the border of the art. I used to use a scrap of paper, but then I got this easel, and there’s not that much room for anything else. For some I’ve convinced myself it’d be weird to have my scrap paper at desk level. I should try it though.

The easel is called an Art Sphere. I got it because it lifts the art and allows me to draw more ergonomically. You cant see it, but it swivels on a wooden ball, which means it can rotate in any direction or be perfectly flat, when needed. Gotta protect our backs!

Also the chaos can now spread BENEATH the art!

It has just now occurred to me that I could take my checkbooks and office supplies out of the two draws and put art supplies there, too. Art supplies everywhere! It’ll be like that episode of Mr. Bean where he hides the steak tartare in everything. Water brushes in the vase! Erasers in the butter dish!

Here’s the piece almost done. Just needs to get scanned and moved back to good ‘ol Procreate for some touch up. The more I use traditional materials, the closer I get to a traditional-only process, but I’m not there yet. At least not with pastels. They’re just so delightfully messy!

Et voilà! here’s the finished piece!

On my Radar

It’s almost Folktale Week!

It’s almost that time! I’ll be announcing the prompts along with the other hosts on October 21st. Keep an eye out!

Hi friends. It’s been a weird time. My dad has been in and out of the hospital, which has been emotionally draining to say the least. I think he’s doing okay though. He’s going back in for surgery tomorrow and then hopefully it’s all uphill from there.

In the meantime I’ve been working on a few projects that simply will. not. end. This means lots of learning curves and new…uh…“opportunities” to implement practices to safeguard me from feature creep. This is stuff I really should have implemented ages ago, but it can be hard to stop and make changes when you’re already feeling behind. More on that at a later date, though.

I've been thinking a lot about how we value our work as creators. After all, we need our creations to hold value so we can sell them, but what happens when we're working in an industry that hasn't historically placed a high value on our work? Does our idea of value get distorted? Do we end up working extra hard just to make ends meet? Probably.

And I don’t know who put pixies in charge of the global economy, but with all the chaos pushing us to show up on multiple platforms and to develop multiple income streams, we feel more pressure than ever to provide value in all kinds of media, not just our own.

That’s a lot of energy!

Plus it’s really hard to disentangle the value of our creations from our value as artists and humans. I think when they get intertwined, it can make things harder than they need to be. We can get too fixated on perfection or—worst case scenario—we can give up creating entirely. Because what’s the point when there’s so much out their already and nothing is new? Where do we even fit in amidst the neverending tsunami of “content?”

These things creep into my mind. It can’t be helped. Shikata ga nai. But I know it’s just my brain trying to protect me from the pain of rejection, and what better way to do that than to get me to not make anything at all?

Oh dear sweet brain. It tries so hard to be helpful. It’s almost cute. Slimy, but cute.

I do a lot of mindset work to counteract the little gray cells. And as I pondered over this idea of value, I realized something:

Art is not a solo act.

True, you may be the one doing all the work (and I mean ALL of it). You write the script. You rent the theater. You promote the hell out of the play and you raise the curtain on opening night. It’s you on the stage and only you. But without an audience, it’s not a performance. It’s just a dress rehearsal.

The audience has to show up. The audience has to pay attention. And the audience has to ultimately decide for themselves whether or not they liked the play. In other words, they have to work, too.

We’re so often advised to make art for ourselves, because the audience is largely out of our hands. If we focus solely on us, we get to ignore them entirely. The ones that like it will show up, and those who don’t won’t. End of story.

But that’s easier said than done when you have bills to pay. You need to make things of value, things worth investing in, because those tickets aren’t going to sell themselves.

The thing that occured to me, and what I’m trying to convey through this literally dramatic metaphor is: It’s not entirely up to you to decide what is worth investing in. Value is co-created. When’s the last time you made something you were really proud of and no one seemed particularly interested? Alternatively, when’s the last time you made something you were really insecure about, only to be surprised by how many people seemed to love it?

What would it mean to you and your practice, if you let value be a leap of faith? If you recognized that it wasn’t entirely up to you to prescribe value to your work and instead sat back and trusted your audience to do that?

Here’s a reminder of some of the many ways people will find value in your work:

• It makes them feel something

• It teaches them something

• It gives them something to aspire to

• It makes them feel good about themselves

• It brings them joy

• It brings them calm

• It makes them feel understood

• It makes them feel relevant

• It validates their beliefs

• It brings them a sense of community

• It brings them a sense of transcendence

• It introduces them to something they didn’t know before

• It makes their world seem bigger

• It makes their world seem smaller

On My Desk

Affinity

I’m in the process of learning Affinity. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s a suite of software by Serif Labs that rivals Adobe Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign. As a designer I’ve been using their software for nearly three decades, and I sort of thought I would forever, but my opinion of them has really soured of late. I honestly didn’t even fault them for going to a subscription model. I get wanting a steady revenue stream to cover overhead between releases. I would have prefered a pricing model that was more supportive of independent creators, but it wasn’t until I read about predatory cancellation fees that I really lost all faith in them as a company. And then there was the whole AI thing.

So when Affinity started making a serious play for Adobe’s market I took notice. Right now they have a free 6-month no-strings-attached trial, but I jumped on a 50% off sale a couple of weeks ago. Getting a universal license of Affinity for under $90 total is almost absurd when Creative Cloud is $60 a month.

Right now I’m learning Publisher, which is Affinity’s answer to InDesign. Things are organized a little differently, but coming from somewhat that is meticulous about style sheets and workflow, I’m impressed. Nothing seems to be missing.

I still have Creative Cloud, but I’m going to see if I can fully transition away from it before my subscription renews next year.

Folktale Week

It’s that time again. The gang and I are working on Folktale Week 2024! We’re doing things a bit leaner this year. We have a smaller crew, and we’re consciously working to make it as easy as possible. Last year almost killed me, but this year is slated to be especially stressful, particularly with multiple ongoing wars and upcoming US elections.

I have a pretty bad track record of overextending myself during Folktale Week, as do a few of the other hosts. It’s easy to do because we love the community and all the amazing art that comes out of the challenge. There’s just so much to share! But what started as a promotional party became a labor of love, emphasis on labor. Instagram’s baffling changes have made challenges like this even more high effort-low reward when compared to how it was when we started it six years ago.

But we’re determined to keep the hauntingly beautiful folk fest going! And yes, the prompts are ready to go! More to come!

“Share your work!”

That’s rule No. 1, right? Art is a relationship between the creator and the viewer. Does it count as art if no one sees it? Are you even an artist if you don’t post?!

Seems simple enough (apart from the general drudgery of whatever the heck social media has become), but what happens when you can’t share?

Hermit Mode

When I first got agented, I was fortunate enough to live close to a few of the agency’s artists. So I went on a lunch date with one, and picked her brain about how things worked. Something she said really surprised me. “I’m in a down period,” she said, “I just finished up a bunch of client work, but I can’t show anyone. And I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been able to share new work or really promote myself for months, so now that this is done, I have nothing coming in.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I was still pretty naive and thought that once you got an agent, that was it. The work would just keep coming. Forever. After all, it’s now someone else’s job to promote you, right? All you have to do is sit back and make art.

While agencies differ, even the best ones are going to have a harder time promoting you when there’s nothing new to share. Some projects can tie you up for months, and once you’re done, the art you make may not be shareable for a year or more.

Since that conversation I’ve been in that working-hard-with-nothing-to-show-for-it cycle a few times, and I’m in it again. I’ve spent the summer working on a few projects I’m really proud of, but I won’t be able to share any of them until next year at the earliest. And that means crickets for my instagram feed.

I know some of you are good about sharing anyway. Maybe you show the sneakiest sneak peek, or resurface older work, or show a photo of yourself with a note to say why you’re not sharing art right now. And some of you have the coveted daily sketch practice (which I’m working on, I promise!).

But me? I tend to drop the ball altogether until I have some space and then rush to make a bunch of new, shareable, hopefully portfolio-quality pieces, usually for an art challenge or a competition. Then I’ll post more frequently for a bit, until another Big Project comes along and I drop the ball again.

A Balancing Act

These days I’m trying to ease into a more balanced approach. I still have client work, but I’m officially scheduling in personal work, too, with deadlines and everything. I’m really excited, partly because I feel like I’ve leveled up this summer and I can’t wait to see how that is reflected in my self-directed work, and partly because I think it’s good for the soul to prioritize your own work. When you know your goals, and know how your work aligns with those goals, you get to give it care and meaning, and that’s a little like giving yourself more care, too.

So as I step out of one phase of work and into another, I’m feeling pretty energized. I’m excited to have new work to share soon, but I’m also excited to practice sharing simple, unfinished, and unpolished pieces. And perhaps I’ll hold some stuff back to share during the next Big Project. I’ve never been good at that, because I’m always worried the old work will be “off brand” aka style, but maybe this is my year!

How about you? How do you manage to share around client work? Or do you slip into hermit mode, too? Any advice? I’m all ears!

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On My Desk This Month

Speaking of things I can’t show, I’ve been steadily working on a book dummy. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, a dummy is a mockup of a book with the text and rough images placed in, so an editor can see how it reads. This is pretty much required for any author-illustrator unless you’ve been working with an editor long enough that you can get away with pitching your idea alone.

I wrote this particular manuscript over a year ago, but I shelved it while working on other projects. This spring I decided to really make time for it, and I’m thrilled to say it’s just about done! I can’t wait to start sending it out!

I got some good news this month. A piece I created for last fall’s Folktale Week was longlisted and then shortlisted for the World Illustration Awards in Children’s Publishing. Here’s the piece:

I’m happy to see a few familiar names on the list, and at least one other Folktale Week piece, too!

Also this month, Wicked Marigold by came out and it was selected as one of PEOPLE Magazine’s Most-Anticipated Summer Books. I was hired to illustrate the cover last year, so I got an advance copy of the manuscript, which I thoroughly enjoyed!

I highly recommend this book for the young readers on your list. It’s such a fun ride with just enough magic and hijinks to keep the kiddos (and me!) fully engaged. You can order it at Bookshop.org or anywhere good books are sold!

I already want a sequel, so hopefully Caroline and Candlewick will give us one!

Getting contacted by an agent can be one of the most exciting moments in your career. It’s incredibly validating. It can feel like you’ve finally gotten noticed by someone who matters in the industry…someone who can help you finally build the career you’ve always dreamed of. Suddenly all of your hard work has paid off.

But before you go signing on the dotted line, you’ve got some things to figure out.

What should you do? Should you pursue representation? Is this even the right agent for you? Can you afford to be picky? What if this is your only chance?

I got a question last week that was along these lines:

“Dear Jennifer, The Made Up Agency just contacted me. They want to set up a call to talk about representing me. Do you know anything about them?”

I get asked about various agencies a lot, but I hadn’t heard of this one. I know it can sometimes seem like there are only a handful of agencies, but there are a lot. And just because YOU haven’t heard of them, doesn’t mean they aren’t good. It’s easy to judge an agency by their social media presence alone, but I recommend taking a closer look. For one thing, I’d much rather sign with an agency that invests in building strong client relationships than posting on social media. A mix of both is probably good, but small, boutique agencies can be an excellent option.

Here’s how I take a closer look:

Step one: Look for someone I know

The first thing I do is check their clients for illustrators I know either personally or by reputation. My goal is to find someone (hopefully a few people) to reach out to. I want to know what their experience has been like. Are they happy with the agency? Are they getting work? Is the agency communicative and responsive? I know everyone’s experience will differ, just as every agency comes with unique pros and cons, but I want to know that they feel the agency is advocating for them.

If I don’t know any artists at the agency, I’ll still reach out to someone. I’ve found kidlit people to be the nicest people. Just remember to be friendly and keep it brief. Throwing out a compliment or two goes a long way, too!

And don’t take it personally if they don’t respond. Just move on to the next person. I’m pretty hit or miss myself. I try to respond to most requests as long as they’re quick and friendly. But anything impersonal, complicated, or time intensive can feel like too much to process.

Step two: Look for how illustrators are displayed on their website and across social media

I’m not just concerned with who the agency represents but how they represent them. Is the art to my liking? Is it displayed well? Would my work fit nicely into the group? Or is my art too different or too similar to their existing roster?

Do the artists each get attention? Are there so many artists that it would be easy to get lost in the mix? If so, do they regularly feature artists so that everyone gets a chance at the spotlight? Is it all in alphabetical order? Is your name Abby Abacus or Zander Zazmozigan?

It’s worth noting that not all agencies display their clients’ art on their website or even social media. I personally think that’s a weird choice, but it’s not uncommon with agencies that have expanded into illustration from less visual industries. As I said above, I’d much rather sign with an agency that invests in building strong client relationships than their website.

Step 3: Look for the deals

Some sites will list companies they work with, but I want more than that. I want to see recent projects, preferably a lot of them. Social media is good for this, assuming the agency is active. But if not, Googling an artist + the agency + words like “project” or “art director” or “editor” will usually turn up some useful info.

Also, look at the projects the artists are currently working on. Check Instagram. See if they’re posting new products or book deals.

This is for literary agents only, but check Publisher’s Weekly. Search the agent’s name and see if it comes up in the rights reports. Unless the agent is new and building their list, they should have some deals under their belt. If they are new, look them up on LinkedIn. You want an agent that has been in publishing (or your preferred industry) long enough to have good contacts.

If after that, you’re still having a hard time finding anything concrete, you can do an ICANN lookup to see when the website was registered. If they’re very new, there may not be much out there yet. But that doesn’t have to be a deal breaker. A new agent with a lot of passion can be awesome to have in your corner!

Step 4: Look for red flags

Client to agent ratio

Divide the number of clients by the number of agents. Seriously, do the math. I can’t tell you how many is too many, but the fewer clients per agent, the more time they should have for you, or for building those relationships I keep talking about. You don’t want to lose jobs because an agent is buried in admin.

My last illustration agent had about 20 clients per agent, and I was very happy with the level of responsiveness. I think 30 can be okay, but I’ve heard more complaints as agents creep closer to 40.

I typically see fewer clients for literary agents. This is understandable because literary agents often act as a preliminary editor, so they spend time working with you to get your manuscript or book dummy in shape to submit. They also deal with fewer, larger projects over the course of a year, so they are able to dedicate more time. An illustration agency will need to manage a much wider scope of commissions.

Agency fees

Please note, I’m not advocating for the following fee structure. I’m just saying anything more would be a red flag for me.

• No up-front fees. You don’t pay an agent to represent you. You pay them to get you work.

• No more than 25% for book illustration.

• No more than 15% for any books you author or projects you initiate.

• No more than 35% for general illustration.

The above rates are on the high side of standard, but there are some higher. If the agent you’re interested in has high percentages, weigh the pros and cons carefully. You need to feel confident they’re worth that extra 5-10%, otherwise it’ll be that much harder to see a chunk taken out of your commission fee.

Termination Clause

It’s fairly standard to have some kind of termination clause in your contract. This means that if you leave your agency, any work you get *from the agency’s existing clients* within that time period has to go through them, so they still get their cut.

You want to make sure that time period isn’t too long (I believe six months is pretty common, give or take) and that it only applies to the agency’s clients. New clients should be your own, free and clear. You also want to be sure that the term client is well-defined. You don’t want to leave your agency and find out that all of Penguin Random House is off limits because you did a sample for one imprint.

Exclusivity

You should be able to keep your own existing clients. If not, negotiate on this. I know artists that didn’t negotiate up front and then lost a big chunk of their commissions when an old client reappeared. You may feel weird about making waves up front, but trust me, you’ve earned every client you’ve gotten so far. Protect that relationship!

Bonus insight from a Literary Agent!

of added some insight in the comments and kindly gave me permission to surface it in this post.

(1) a new agent should have guidance and mentorship from an experienced agent regardless of how long that new agent has been working in publishing. I was in publishing for a decade and knew a lot about the business before I became an agent, but I still had to learn about *agenting* specifically - so I joined an agency with a longstanding reputation and a lot of experience to help guide me.

(2) While I definitely agree that it's a good idea to do some sleuthing on the agent/agency yourself, you can also ask the agent questions (over email and/or a call) and shift some of that burden to them. Then your sleuthing can be mostly verifying that info, which is usually a little easier than finding it from scratch. And remember, an agent's job is to pitch your work and stories, so you can get info on how they do that by seeing how they pitch themselves! If their initial email to you was brief and full of typos and left you with more questions than answers, for example, that may be something to note...

Thanks so much Jessica!

It’s up to you!

Hopefully you’ve found this helpful, but I know it’s still a difficult decision to make. Choosing whether or not to sign with an agency, or even whether or not to negotiate terms can feel daunting.

What if it’s not the right fit? What if you scare them away by trying to negotiate? What if this is your only chance? What if what if what if….

To this I say, take a deep breath. This is NOT your only chance. If an agent has contacted you, it means they believe they can sell your work. And if one agent believes it, someone else will, too. And you’re only going to get better, right?

And if they get scared off by negotiating, then they are definitely not the right fit. You want an agent that’s not afraid to negotiate!

If you’re actively seeking representation or if that dream feels really far off, be sure to save this post so you can come back to it when you need to!

Friends, I have something to tell you. I have a lot of trouble writing here on Substack. Maybe some of you have the same problem? Since one of my missions is to normalize the challenges we creatives face, I thought I’d share what I’m wrestling with.

First, I come up with something to write about. Fortunately, I have no problem with that. Before I even begin to write, I start thinking about what to say, and it's all so deceptively eloquent. But daydreaming is not the same as writing.

When I actually sit down to write, things fall apart.

I might get the title. I might get the first sentence, or maybe part of the first sentence, and then nothing. Just...nothing. It's excruciating!

It's not that my mind goes blank; it's that it starts racing. I start seeing all these connections, all these places the text could go, and I don't know which one will make my point best.

It’s so much more challenging than illustration is for me. Is that just because I’ve been doing it longer? I hope so, since that would mean that I just have to keep practicing. But what if it’s not? What if never gets easier? What if this is…FOREVER?

I've set up a lot of tools and constraints to keep me on track, so eventually I cobble together some sort of draft.

But then it’s time to edit. Cue the screeching Psycho violins.

It’s a disaster! Somehow, I start to lose the thread entirely. I wonder if what I've said makes sense, or if it needs to be organized more, or if this part needs to go over there, or if that part needs to go here. Do I need another draft or should I scrap it entirely?

Soon, everything I’ve written becomes so hopelessly opaque; I can barely keep track of what I want to say. Is this even English?!

Exhausted, I exit out and start a new post, which feels like the equivalent of cleaning my room by shoving everything in the closet. That’s right. This Substack has a messy closet. Raise your hand if you know what I'm talking about.

It’s so weird. I can edit someone else’s text. I can even edit my own if it’s for something linear, like a picture book manuscript or a tutorial. But this? I don't know; it feels very different. And trying to organize my thoughts makes it feel…disorganized. Like I'm losing something. Stripping out the meaning. And I get more and more confused and more and more frustrated. Fast forward a few hours, and it's back to the closet of shame.

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This is NOT how I want things to go. I don’t want to get in my own way; I just want to talk and share things I find helpful, without all the fuss of whatever it is my brain is fussing over.

So I’m going to try something different.

What if it could be easier?

Elsa Billgren, a Swedish blogger I’ve followed off and on for <ahem> nearly two decades said “when I write the blog it almost always just flows in one flow, just like a conversation. I probably would never have been able to blog every day for so many years if I didn't feel that it just flowed forward.”

To be fair, what she actually said was, “Eller skriva av sig blir det ju egentligen men när jag skriver bloggen går det nästan alltid bara i ett flöde, precis som ett samtal. Jag skulle nog aldrig orkat blogga varje dag i så här många år om jag inte kände att det bara flödade fram.” But I don’t speak Swedish. I only speak Google Translate.

In any case, that sounds just lovely to me.

I’m a big believer in playing to our strengths. And maybe editing my own newsletter/blog/whatever-this-is isn’t one of mine. So what if I just skipped that part? Would it be so bad?

I’ll tell you one thing I’ve learned. Editing does NOT lead to perfection. I probably did three or four passes on my last post and I still ended up with a few typos. Honestly editing might even cause more typos. Because moving things around and changing tense or POV or whatever is a destructive process.

And what else could I do with that time? I could sketched more. I could put the final touches on my manuscript.

So yeah, that’s my plan. I’m hoping I’ll get more done by talking more and editing less. I’ll try to let it flow like a conversation and assume that we’re all lovely imperfect humans and not machines who value form over function.

Okay, I realize this post is mostly about writing and not illustration, but this idea of making things easier by cutting out what isn’t working is a big part of how I’m creating sustainability in my illustration career. Let’s all just flow forward!

Who’s with me? Is there anything you could be cutting out?

It’s a lot of fun, and I can’t help wishing I was back to hug all my illo buddies. But the FOMO might just make it seem more important than it is. So if you’re feeling left out, this post is for you.

Here’s what Bologna is great for:

Creating and strengthening friendships
Bologna is a great place to meet other illustrators. I met some of my all-time favorite people there. Nothing beats taking a friendship to the next level like sharing some solid floor time while waiting in a long-ass line to see a publisher for 5 minutes.

Getting light portfolio feedback
There are plenty of opportunities for portfolio feedback at Bologna, but be forewarned: much of it is pretty rudimentary. If the publisher is very popular and the line is super long, you might not get much more than “this is good,” or “it’s not for us.” But if you’re lucky, you’ll get a solid ten minutes with someone who will give you real insight into what isn’t working in your portfolio and how you can improve it. That kind of feedback is precious!

Being inspired
You will see an absurd amount of art while walking through the exhibit halls and through the city itself. Much of it will be new ideas you’ll want to explore. You may even be so inspired you decide to burn your portfolio with the hope that an illustrated phoenix will rise from its ashes.

Feeling validated
Being at a conference with your peers feels like a rite of passage. There’s a collective sense of belonging that lifts you from the realm of wannabe to dare I say…emerging talent? “Oh, you’ve been to Bologna? Then clearly you’re serious about this work.”

All of that is worthwhile, and it’s certainly enough to justify going if you can swing it. But…

Here’s what Bologna is not so great for:

Getting book deals
It may seem like Bologna is very illustrator-focused, but we’re seeing it through a bubble. The hosts and exhibitors do a lot to support creators through things like showcases, panels, and portfolio reviews, but Bologna itself is mostly about licensing and selling existing titles to publishers and retailers. So while many publishers are thrilled to find potential collaborators, that’s not their primary focus.

Networking with publishers
Although there are hundreds of publishers exhibiting, most of the staff you see working the booths are part of the marketing and/or sales teams. Many publishers don’t have editors or art directors in attendance at all.

Your best bet for networking (assuming you don’t have an agent who can get you a meeting) is to wait in line with a kajillion other artists in the hopes of getting some brief facetime with the art directors and editors who do attend. If they like your work, you can hand them a postcard, in the hopes they remember you six months later. If they really like your work, they just may give you their business card so you can send them a reminder that you exist.

Being a good financial investment
This is going to vary depending on where you live, but as an American, Bologna is expensive. The fair itself is absurdly cheap when compared to the various illustration and kidlit conferences stateside, but you still have to get there and find a place to stay. If you can take the train down from Switzerland for the day, then by all means, GO NOW, but for the rest of us, it’s a pretty big investment.

And since many of the exhibitors are international publishers who don’t pay nearly as much as US publishers, it’s a big investment in predominantly low-paying jobs.

Managing overwhelm and imposter syndrome
While you’ll feel inspired, and somewhat validated as I mentioned above, you will also likely become super overwhelmed by the sheer Bolognaness of it all. Some part of you may want to pack it all in, because with so many amazing artists out there already, how will you possibly compete?

Does the world even need your art? It’s probably safe to assume most of us deal with this thought from time to time, but if you’re particularly sensitive to this kind of thinking, or if your reviews don’t go so well, you may come out feeling pretty defeated. Possibly even crying in the bathroom and looking up how much it’ll cost to change your flight so you can go home this second defeated.

So there you have it. Bologna is super inspiring, but it doesn’t need to be part of your career strategy. There’s a lot you can do that will give you a similar payoff without “requiring” a trip to Italy.

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How to fake your own Bologna

Make actual plans with actual illustrators
If you know of any illustrators near you, make a plan to meet up. If you don’t, you can meet some by joining a sketch group in your area, or by joining your local chapter of SCBWI. If those aren’t options, ask your followers if anyone knows nearby artists, or set up a sketch night with your peers over zoom. Hosting a not going to Bologna pity party seems like a very reasonable excuse to meet up!

Get feedback on your portfolio
A lot of professional illustrators, editors, and art directors offer paid portfolio reviews. And many who don’t will set one up if you ask. If money is an issue, you can always ask if they’ll give you some feedback, but make sure you’re considerate about it. Take the time to engage with their content and let them know why you’d like their specific input. Then, let them know you value their time by asking something super simple like, “what’s one area or skill you think I could focus on improving?”

Find new inspiration
Get off of Instagram. If you want to simulate the feeling of Bologna, you need to get out of your bubble and look to other sources for inspiration. Go to a museum. Go to a used bookstore with a good children’s book section. Try looking for different illustrators on Google and Pinterest by getting creative with your search technique. Try translating “children’s books” into a foreign language and see what happens. Or try “childrens illustration 1977.”

Get your art in front of art directors and editors
As far as connections go, Bologna isn’t much different than anywhere else. At the end of the day, it’s all about your postcard. At Bologna you get to drop off a postcard in person. But outside of Bologna, you can mail them, which is more special than you think. After all, what’s going to stand out more, one postcard in a pile of hundreds, or the only postcard to be hand-addressed and delivered via snail mail this month?

If you don’t have a mailing list yet, it’s time to build one!

Have some pasta, preferably with a spritz
Finally, with all the money you saved by not going to Bologna, you can at least splurge on a nice Italian dinner, right?

And who knows, there’s always next year!

Ciao!

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If you had ten seconds with your dream client, what would you do? Invite them to check out your portfolio? Pitch your big idea? Tell them how you’d be a perfect fit for their next project?

What if you could do all three, and for everyone who comes to your Instagram page?

Well you’re in luck! Because you can use those handy-dandy pinned posts to make the mother-of-all digital brochures! With a little planning, you can make a cohesive banner that invites anyone who comes to your profile to take a deeper dive. There’s a reason there are three pins after all!

Step 1. Decide on a goal (or three)

When planning anything businessy, it’s a good idea to start with your goals. Take some time to write them down and let them be your north star (or stars?) so you can focus on what’s important and not get too caught up in what isn’t.

Is your dream to sell your own prints and products? Is it to create patterns and decor for your favorite home brand? Maybe your goal is to connect with other creatives and build your audience.

Just write down what comes to mind and take some time to prioritize them. If you’re anything like me, you’ll want to do ALL THE THINGS, but it’s better to explore one or two avenues first. You can always switch things up down the road.

Step 2. Pick your dream connection(s)

People come to our profiles for different reasons. They can be agents looking for someone to represent, art directors looking for someone to work with, art lovers looking to brighten their day, or fellow creatives looking to make a connection.

You may instinctively decide you want to connect with everyone, but remember, your entire profile is a chance to connect. This is about making a deeper connection, one that aligns with your goals.

Imagine you’re at a party. You might be happy to meet everyone, but who do you really want to have a long conversation with in the kitchen while pretending not to eat all the hummus?

Choosing whom you most want to connect with will help you figure out what to include in your banner.

Step 3. Choose what to include

The sky’s the limit, really. I’m going to give you some suggestions, but it’s up to you to pick what feels right. Get creative and make the space your own!

A few options:

Artist Bio
Awards
Dream Project/Pitch
Headshot/Self Portrait
Portfolio
Products
Shop(s)
Substack/Patreon
Things You Love To Draw

Paid subscribers will find more options plus goal-based examples in the supporting materials.

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Step 4. Craft your message

Your message is how you will introduce yourself and express your goals to the people who generously give you their attention. But rather than simply stating your goals, it’s a chance to position yourself, offer value, and express how your goals might align.

It’s less about “I’m an illustrator, hire me” and more about “If you’re looking for a friendly pattern designer who’s passionate about moth memes1 and toast, I’m your gal! Let’s work together!”

There will be times in which your art speaks for itself. But your voice—your ability to make a meaningful connection with someone—is where the real magic happens. This message can appear in your post text, and bits of it can appear in the artwork, too.

Step 5: Make it Discoverable

It’s not enough to bury your message behind artwork. People need to be TOLD there’s more to see. In the UX (user experience) world this is called discoverability. Without it, visitors might see a pretty banner and assume that’s all there is. All your hard work would be mostly wasted.

So you need to include discoverability on the first slides of your pinned banner. This is the thing that says in flashing neon lights “TAP HERE, THERE’S MORE TO SEE!” Okay maybe it doesn’t say that specifically, but you want something that encourages visitors to interact.

Step 6. Choose your Call to Action

A Call to Action, or CTA for short, is the name for a bit of text that encourages visitors to take a specific action.

Your CTA lives within your posts. It should appear in the post text itself as well as on the last slide of your carousel(s).

What action do you want to encourage someone to take after they’ve flipped through your portfolio or read your message? If your goal is to build your network of clients, your CTA could invite them to stay up to date on new work by joining your email list. If your goal is to sell products, your CTA could invite them to visit your shop.

Paid subscribers will get examples of various Calls to Action in the accompanying worksheet.

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Step 7. Plan your project

This step will help you visualize your project before you get into the nitty-gritty with art. You have a lot of space to work with, and you get to decide how much you want to take up.

If you only have one goal or connection in mind, you may not want to lead your visitors through all three posts. You can make an eye catching banner and show them you respect their time by directing them to only one post with all the relevant info.

If you have multiple goals, you could give each pinned post a job, and direct your visitors to the right one based on the content or their unique interests.

Consider your message. What will you put in the post text and what will you put in the images? Remember, you can edit the post text at any time, but if you want to change the imagery, you’ll have to upload and pin a new post.

Step 8: Create your art

Now it’s time to get to work!

Hopefully by now you’ve got everything figured out and are ready to dive in. And check out my piece on Profile Pics if you haven’t already (below). Consider how the banner and your profile pic might fit together to make your profile page look really spectacular!

Setting up your Files

Paid Subscribers can download templates for both Procreate and Photoshop below. For those of you on the free tier, you’ll need to set your file to 1080x3240 pixels wide.

It’ll also be helpful to create three 1080x1080 sections so that you can easily export your art. In Photoshop you can use guides, but for Procreate it’s best to make 1080x1080 squares and place them in the appropriate spot. When it’s time to export, you can select the square or use guides to select the area, then copy & paste your art to a new file.

Extra Credit

The banner isn’t the only space for art. Every slide you include can be illustrated. You can keep these in the same document or create a new file at 1080x1080 pixels. Or if you want your content to swipe seamlessly, make your file 1080 pixels times the number of slides.

Updating Your Banner

Treat this banner as a living document. As your art and goals change, it should change, too. You can refresh it every year or even every season if you like.

Let’s Work Together

This is a kind of big project, so I’ll be working on it with paid subscribers over the next month (complete with a deadline for that much needed accountability). This is the first time I’m workshopping a project, so we’ll be figuring some things out together.

I cannot wait to see your banners, so please keep me posted! I was thrilled that some of you reported more engagement after your profile pic update! This banner will take that one step further by creating more opportunities over time!

Paid subscribers, please find your goodies below the paywall.

Good luck and have fun!

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