Love, Art, Pain, and Everything In Between

My Journey to Becoming an Established Children’s Book Illustrator

My story begins like many other creative’s, in that I always knew I wanted to pursue art from the moment I put pencil to paper. As a young girl I would spend hours alone in my dad’s office study, scribbling away elaborate scenes of people in marketplaces set thousands of years ago. My sisters and I grew up in a very religious household, so were exposed to old biblical films, which I suppose occasionally inspired my drawings. I would sketch people haggling for fruit, caring for their babies, or dancing together in the street. I’d even include little urban animals running through the legs of passers-by, trying catch the food that had fallen from carts. When you zoned in on each character, they all had a place they were going, with a story to tell. It felt like a special power to be able to conjure up these characters and their back stories from my own mind, and I’d lose myself for hours in fantasy worlds I had created.

When the paper wasn’t there, my pen would turn to the walls and doors. As a low-income family, our house wasn’t particularly well-decorated, and by that point, my mum had given up on trying to make it look nice (sorry mum — I get the frustration now!). Whilst going through an androgynous and slightly rebellious phase as a child, I took to attacking my bedroom door with drawings and stickers of thick, hairy spiders, gruelling monsters, and google-eyed creatures crawling up the panels. It was a warning for people not to enter. I even drew a letter box halfway up the door with two beady eyes looking out, watching for intruders. My drawings became my friends, and my creativity knew no bounds. Growing up in a strictly religious household, it’s surprising my parents allowed me to bring these menacing monsters into our home. I suppose they probably had more pressing concerns at the time.

At Christmas, instead of buying presents for our parents, my sisters and I would each start creating a book of colourings and drawings around September every year. We would present them to our parents before we’d even open our own presents on Christmas day. We were so excited to see their reactions as they thumbed through pages of made up word-searches, and endless drawings of snowmen, nativity, and winter wonderland scenes. Parts of my childhood were rickety to say the least, but I am immensely lucky that both my parents have creative flares and have always encouraged my sisters and me to express ourselves in this way. I firmly believe that if I hadn’t had that around me as a child, I wouldn’t be where I am today with my illustration work. 

My time at Primary School confirmed that maths, science, and generally anything logistical would fall on very blind eyes and deaf ears with me. On the other hand, it only further confirmed that creativity was an area where I was intended to thrive. I’m sure if you could peek inside my brain during my Art, English, and Music class, the right hemisphere of my brain would have been lit up like a Christmas tree. However, out of all my creative classes, it was clear that art was my true calling. This passion continued into High School and Sixth Form, where my GCSEs and A Levels encouraged me to explore various forms of art. I created projects with themes of contemporary realism, The Renaissance Era, comic book illustration, animal, and human studies, and even photography. I was always challenged with every project, and I adored each one. Although I found high school very hard at times, battling with turbulent relationships, a difficult home life, and a seemingly constant identity crisis, I found that art class was my home. I will be forever grateful to the most incredible art teachers at Formby High, Mrs Clarke, and Mr Collins. They provided a memorable and wonderful experience whilst I was there, and I’ve carried their support with me all this time. In 2013, during my sixth form years, I faced many of the same personal struggles I had in high school, yet my art kept me grounded. I managed to achieve an A* in art, which reflects how I had learned to channel my emotions and focus into my work. They do say “Great art comes from great pain”. However, I must stress that it’s not always the case…

After sixth form, I applied to several fine art courses at various universities, encouraged by my teachers. I quickly learnt from the interview feedback that I was more suited to illustration as opposed to fine art, and that I could benefit from taking part in a foundation course to develop this further. So I took the advice, and chose to attend Liverpool Community College, a place where I could figure out which artistic route to venture down. I thoroughly enjoyed this course as it allowed me complete freedom to create whatever I wanted. Whether it was sculpting, ink work, sewing, or illustration, I was able to fully explore my creativity, and my curiosity and playfulness were completely ignited during this time. However, whilst unfortunately being in an unstable relationship at the time, my focuses drifted elsewhere towards the end of the course. To my own disappointment, my attendance became poor and I only came away with very average grades. Something I wasn’t quite used to happening before, especially as I’d usually thrived in my art through the bad times. I specifically remember passing by my very lovely art tutor, Linda, in the hallway after receiving my grade. She sighed at me and said with a seemingly heavy heart,

“Well, Rachael, you’ll always have your drawing skills.”

Luckily, my grades were still strong enough to secure a place on the Graphic Design and Illustration course at Liverpool John Moore’s University. However, I initially found the first year incredibly overwhelming. I was juggling the freedom of living away from home for the first time, managing an ongoing unstable relationship, experiencing the opportunity to party endlessly, and then mourning a friend passing away during the summer following first year. And I was supposed to create amazing art throughout all of this? The fact is, I didn’t. I created the worst art I’d ever made in my life and received very average grades again… and it was the first time I didn’t really care. Life was trying its best to wear me down, except this time I let it.

​It was just before second year of Uni when I ended the relationship and unexpectedly came across a new, wonderful one. The one I’m still in now, 9 years later. Funnily enough, the moment I realised relationships didn’t have to be all about drama and turmoil 24/7, I learnt that it was possible for other things in your life to thrive. Life became peaceful for the first time ever. As I was falling in love properly for the first time, I was falling back in love with my art again too. My passion was reignited, and I had a familiar fire back in my heart. This continued through to third year, where I took my Uni work much more seriously and thrived as a result. I ended the year proudly achieving a First BA honours degree, and it felt good to be back on my game. By this time at 22 years old, I had unfortunately lost two of my friends in death, soon to be followed by a third friend a few years later. Death felt immensely prominent in my life, and I was compelled to write about it in my dissertation. The concept delved into the portrayal of death in picture books, examining how these narratives can aid children in navigating the complexities of loss in real life. Despite a rather sombre topic, I loved writing every single word, perhaps as a form of therapy. I’m happy to say I received a First for this too. I would like to write more on the topic of death one day, in terms of how we learn from it and how it shapes us as people, and I’m very sure I will.

In my third year of Uni, I started an Instagram account for my artwork. At first, it was a place to dump all of my developmental work for fun, and to see where the account would go. There was no plan of action or notion to turn anything into a business, I was simply winging it. During this time, I also found myself reluctantly moving back home to live with my dad to save money. I use the word "reluctantly" as I was an inspired and eager 22-year-old, who couldn’t wait to travel the world and break out of her hometown and experience everything!!! (Little did she know how much her plans would change by 29 years old). The reality was I had no money, and I kind of needed money to do all of that. So, I saved my Uni loan and grants, and continued to work in bar and retail jobs that quite frankly, I hated. Mostly because I spent my 10-hour shifts sweeping floors and folding clothes when all I wanted to do was draw and create things that were meaningful to me. This became a very dark time for me, and I was soon able to identify the experience as 'Post-Graduate Depression.' Something that desperately needs to be talked about more with young people.

Somehow, between shifts and emotionally low episodes, I found time to create and post as much art as I could. I started to gain more traction on my Instagram page, and as my like counts grew, so did my following. I had noticed people were starting to ask to buy my work too. Buy my work? People actually wanted to own my work, and I could make money from that?! After this realisation, it didn’t take long before I set up an online print store and personal commission business. And it took off! 

I remember being congratulated by a co-worker on our shift for the success she’d seen on my Instagram.

“It’s so amazing to see, Rach. Maybe you could go full time one day?” 

“Yes, that’s certainly the plan!” I said, hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe give it a year or two and you might be able to.” She replied.

My stomach dropped. A year or two might not seem like a long time to some, but to 22-year-old Rach it seemed like a lifetime. I left the job the same week and started my professional illustration career imminently, with no idea of what lay ahead.

Now this is a very, very important point to make. In no way shape or form would I have been able to go full time if I had been paying out for rent or a mortgage, or bills, or a family. I was very fortunate to live at home for free with no other commitments whilst earning very little income from my business. But I had to start somewhere. I have my dad and my partner to thank for this time in my life, because they both gave me the support and, more importantly, the space I needed to become all consumed by my craft and to push myself to my creative limits. While it wasn’t always the healthiest time in my life, I often look back at younger Rach with tremendous gratitude. What a fabulous little go-getter she was. I appreciate the sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the months and months of research and trial and error, and the ability to constantly bounce back, as this was all crucial in getting me to where I am today as a children’s book illustrator. A year later, after significantly growing my online presence, selling prints and commissions to customers globally, collaborating with companies such as Teen Vogue, Vans Girls, In The Moment Magazine, and having my work reposted by huge designer brands such as Rodarte, the most well-known publishing house in the country eventually reached out to me. Penguin Random House.

They had invited me to a meeting in London where I could showcase my portfolio to the children’s book Puffin team. It was the first time my career began to feel REAL. I felt incredibly unprepared, and my imposter syndrome warning signal started to flash bright red and continued to do so for the foreseeable. I was met by the lovely designer, Stephanie Jones, who immediately made me feel calm and welcomed, and we went on to have an exciting and eye-opening meeting with the Puffin team. I use the term ‘eye-opening’ as during the meeting it dawned on me that I didn’t have a clue what they wanted to see. Their questions and comments made me realise what was expected from a portfolio — and boy did I take notes! The meeting went well, but I realise now that I was unprepared. In hindsight, I wish I had brought a wider variety of work to showcase. Despite this, I was aware that I had caught their attention, and now, years later, I have collaborated with Puffin on several amazing titles. It’s a powerful reminder that when you cast a stone into the water, you can never fully anticipate how far the ripples will spread. It wasn’t long after the Puffin meeting before my amazing agency, Pickled Ink, reached out to represent me for children's book work too. My hard work had finally paid off! I was getting noticed by an industry I knew was almost impossible to break into, and my thirst for pursuing my craft further was only growing more by the day. 

The next two years consisted of working on constant book projects (thanks to my super hard-working agent, Charlie Bowden), and I also finally managed to fit in a 3-month travelling trip around Southeast Asia with my lovely partner. It was probably the best time of my life so far, but ironically I don’t think I knew it at the time. Especially as the following year brought us the most turbulent, and darkest time the modern world has ever seen with the Covid lockdowns. My lockdowns were bleak, and hilarious, and terrible, and wonderful and overwhelming. All the positive moments came as a result of my younger sister moving back home. It was one of the most confusing but special times of my life, and I couldn’t have got through it without her. Dancing and laughing on a moonlit beach, sipping wine from glasses we took from Dad’s kitchen, will forever be etched in my memory.

​Lockdown brought plenty of awful and great things, but I was fortunate to work with many fantastic authors on some amazing book projects during that time. I remember on one random lockdown day, an unsuspecting moment caught me off guard. It was a phone call from my agent.

“Rachael, something has come my way today. I’m just wondering… do you like Jacqueline Wilson?”

My breath instantly vanished from my body. Jacqueline Wilson?! The author whose books myself, and every millennial girl in the UK, adored? The very same author I chose for my school presentation on my role model? Whose illustrator inspired me as a child? My eyes darted to the section of my bookshelf displaying her collection, which I had treasured for 17 years.

“Erm - YES!!!” I managed to gush out. 

“Would you like me to put you forward-,”

“YES YES YES!!!” I shouted. 

The opportunity was for me to go up against several other illustrators to take on the reigns from the iconic illustrator, Nick Sharratt, and to become Dame Jacqueline Wilson’s new illustrator. That’s just a silly sentence right there! Little Rachael Dean from a small, unknown, northern village, being considered as the new illustrator for one of the most famous children’s authors in the country? Say whaaaattt??!!! 

When I tell you I worked hard for this, I mean I worked hard! I spent weeks researching styles, colour palettes, character designs, and rereading her old books. I mean, realistically, I didn’t actually believe I would get the job. I simply thought I’d at least show Puffin who I was and what I could create. Perhaps I wouldn’t be suitable for Jacqueline Wilson, but who knows — maybe another author instead? Months passed by, and after I had submitted the first collection of work to be reviewed by the Puffin team, I received the news that I had got through to the second stage of the process. A tiny glimmer of hope sparked in me. Wait… could this actually happen?

After working just as hard on the second collection of work and sending it off, it was simply a waiting game. Then, on a dark night during a dreary January lockdown, I was in the kitchen making gyozas when I received the phone call. I had been chosen by Puffin and Jacqueline Wilson herself, to become her new illustrator. It’s safe to say it was one of the best moments of my life so far. My younger sister managed to capture a video of the very moment I found out, but it consists of far too much jumping and squealing. I simply shan’t torture you all by sharing that online.

I have now been working with Jacqueline Wilson for four years, and have 7 (soon to be 8) published titles with her to date. We’ve taken part in numerous events on stage together, connecting with children who remind me of a younger version of myself. I have the wonderful privilege of talking to her directly about our shared projects, and she is just as lovely, wise, and sharp-thinking as you would imagine her to be. Working on her books is a honour, and I can’t believe that I get to read and illustrate them as my job. It’s a beautiful reflection from when I was a child, reading them 20 years ago and scribbling my own illustrations in the end pages. I don’t think you can convince me that manifestation doesn’t exist! Along with this, I now have 30 published books with many acclaimed authors such as Katya Balen, Louisa May Alcott, and Nicola Baker, and my work has been shortlisted for awards such as the Carnegie medal for illustration. Nearly six years into the industry, and the red flashing imposter syndrome signal is certainly still there but now slightly beginning to fade. I'm finally starting to feel like I’m meant to be exactly where I am, and when I look back at all the hard work, the pain, and the love I’ve experienced around everything it took to get here, I know it was all worth it in the end.

Yours,                       

Rachael x