Although You’re No Longer a Kid

Reading Picture Books Even Though You Are No Longer a Little Kid
Getting on the Bus
Candice Ransom

I have checked out from the library Loren Long’s pic­ture book The Yel­low Bus so many times, the library ought to give it to me. The Yel­low Bus came out in 2024. I am 72 and am still check­ing it out from our library. Why? Why does a children’s pic­ture book have so much pull on me, a senior? Because I’ve nev­er stopped read­ing and lov­ing pic­ture books.

I read them for dif­fer­ent rea­sons. One, I’m a children’s book writer and I read pic­ture books to study the form. In fact, that’s how I learned to write pic­ture books. In the sum­mer of 1981, I decid­ed I want­ed to write more than mid­dle grade and young adult nov­els. I had sto­ries in my head that required a short­er format.

Each week that sum­mer, I went to the pub­lic library and checked out twen­ty-five pic­ture books. I sat down with them at home and read all twen­ty-five. Then I re-read them, this time divid­ing them into two piles. One stack were the books I knew I could nev­er write — zany, sil­ly, high­ly imag­i­na­tive. That’s just not my mind­set. The sec­ond stack con­tained qui­et, atmos­pher­ic, lyri­cal pic­ture books. Those I could do. Next, I gath­ered the sec­ond stack and typed out some of the sto­ries to sep­a­rate the text from the art. That allowed me to see the skele­ton of the manuscript.

By the end of the sum­mer, I had checked out, read, stud­ied, and in many cas­es typed out the texts of five hun­dred pic­ture books. That sum­mer served as my con­fer­ence on writ­ing pic­ture books, my series of webi­na­rs, my MFA. My edu­ca­tion. It worked. After near­ly 190 pub­lished children’s books, includ­ing pic­ture books, I still type out the texts of cer­tain pic­ture books.

Anoth­er rea­son I read pic­ture books as an adult is because I am an instruc­tor of an MFA grad­u­ate pro­gram in writ­ing children’s books at Hollins Uni­ver­si­ty. I read pic­ture books to stay cur­rent in the field. I owe it to my stu­dents to read what they might be read­ing and if they aren’t keep­ing up with pic­ture books, I can guide them to the best.

The last rea­son is more per­son­al. I read pic­ture books for myself. After a long day of writ­ing for chil­dren, I take pic­ture books to bed. Hours of writ­ing often leaves a writer won­der­ing if she’s on the right path, if she’s uncer­tain about a project that might like­ly be scrapped and start­ed over the next day. A pic­ture book is a whole thing, a fin­ished sto­ry. They are easy to read, with a bonus of pic­tures. What’s not to love?

Connecting to Your Inner Kid

Gre­go­ry Wal­ters, like me, has no chil­dren. How­ev­er, unlike me, he was a for­mer ele­men­tary school teacher and then prin­ci­pal who has read aloud “hun­dreds, if not thou­sands” of pic­ture books to stu­dents. When Wal­ters retired, he decid­ed to catch up on all those impor­tant adult books he’s missed. All that heavy read­ing with weighty agen­das sent him back to pic­ture books.

Typ­i­cal­ly 32 pages and under a thou­sand words, pic­ture books offer a quick read and a longer gaze,” Wal­ters remarks. “They have evolved, becom­ing more var­ied in terms of art and sub­ject mat­ter since I was a child  …” Many adults who have read to their own chil­dren or remem­ber from their child­hoods some of the books Wal­ters loved — Curi­ous George, Dr. Suess, and P.D. Eastman’s Are You My Moth­er?

As a grown-up, Wal­ters appre­ci­ates new clas­sics like Drag­ons Love Tacos right along­side Blue­ber­ries for Sal. “The art in works of Loren Long, Elisha Coop­er, Marie-Louise Gay and Chris Van Alls­burg daz­zles me,” he says, echo­ing my own feel­ing that we adults val­ue the vast styles and rich­ness of fine illus­tra­tions. Best of all, he believes, “Some­times a pic­ture book night beats any­thing on Net­flix.” Amen.

I came to pic­ture books at an odd age. I nev­er attend­ed nurs­ery school or went to kinder­garten, typ­i­cal­ly places where young chil­dren are exposed to the won­ders of pic­ture books. I had no pic­ture books at home. I nev­er saw the inside of a library until I start­ed first grade at Cen­tre­ville Ele­men­tary with its tiny school library. Kids first through third grade were rel­e­gat­ed to a sin­gle book­case of age-appro­pri­ate books. Fourth through sixth graders could browse through three walls of books. I’m sure my first and sec­ond grade teach­ers read pic­ture books to the class. Cer­tain­ly the school librar­i­an, the exot­ic Miss Sharp who wore her thick black hair in a bun and a slash of red lip­stick, must have held sto­ry hour.

After­ward we were free to browse and check out books from our restrict­ed book­case. I remem­ber tak­ing out Curi­ous George and Sam the Fire­fly by P.D. East­man. By third grade, though, I was chaf­ing to explore the big kids’ shelves. I remem­ber sneak-read­ing some of those books dur­ing our library peri­od, reluc­tant­ly putting them back behind the stacks so I could retrieve the same book the fol­low­ing week.

So, I sort of skipped pic­ture books. I read Good­night Moon and Harold and the Pur­ple Cray­on as an adult. The sum­mer I read five hun­dred pic­ture books, I felt as if I’d stum­bled into Ali Baba’s cave. Where had all these jew­els been hid­ing? Smart pic­ture book lovers keep their books in plain sight.

Jamie Canaves pre­serves his child­hood pic­ture books in his office. Even though he stores them there, he stopped read­ing pic­ture books, believ­ing he had “aged out of them.” In his thir­ties, he returned to read­ing young adult and mid­dle grade nov­els. At the begin­ning of 2022, he decid­ed to read one pic­ture book a week. He chose them by their cov­ers (I used to buy children’s books sim­ply for their cov­ers by illus­tra­tors Tri­na Schart Hyman and Fred Marcellino).

Yet Canaves soon found that parcel­ing out his pic­ture book selec­tions to only once a week was not enough. He grabbed pic­ture books at the library “when I need­ed a destress­er, or a pick-me-up, or just a quick escape.” If you don’t have chil­dren or grand­chil­dren and you feel you are too old to read pic­ture books, you are miss­ing their best attribute: they are sooth­ing. And heav­en knows, most of us adults need all the sooth­ing we can get.

I know from vis­it­ing ele­men­tary schools many of the kids appear anx­ious. I know from my twen­ty-some­thing great-nieces and ‑nephews they are very anx­ious about the world they are enter­ing as adults. In Beyond Anx­i­ety by soci­ol­o­gist Martha Beck, we can blame the arti­fi­cial world we’ve cre­at­ed as humans from the Indus­tri­al Age to the present. “We force our bod­ies to run on clock time,” Beck says, “rather than in accor­dance with the sea­sons, our states of health, or phys­i­cal sen­sa­tions like hunger, thirst, or fatigue.”

That world changed our brains. The now-dom­i­nant left hemi­spheres of our brains “likes things man-made.” The left hemisphere’s “pre­ferred tools: force, log­ic, and con­trol … It focus­es over­whelm­ing­ly on one sin­gle goal: max­i­miz­ing mate­r­i­al wealth.” 

To quote Beck, “This is why Amazon’s founder, Jeff Bezos, one of the wealth­i­est human beings in his­to­ry, wrote to his stock­hold­ers, ‘I con­stant­ly remind our employ­ees to be afraid, to wake up every morn­ing ter­ri­fied.’ Liv­ing in fear, he asserts, is the way to stay ahead.” Great for him, not so much for the rest of the anx­i­ety-rid­dled pop­u­la­tion. Anx­i­ety fuels our economy.

The anti­dote accord­ing to Beck: try to find our cre­ative selves or at the very least, step back from our cul­ture of “grab­bing stuff.”

Jamie Canaves dis­cov­ered pic­ture books are a stress reliev­er through the illus­tra­tions. “Unlock your cre­ative brain and let the images expand in your mind,” he advis­es. “Take the time to spot every detail. Appre­ci­ate the use of col­or, or lack of … Be curi­ous for a moment.”

It seems such a small thing, but pic­ture books allow us to release anx­i­ety and relax.

Getting Back on the Bus
The Yellow Bus by Loren Long

The Yel­low Bus is an aston­ish­ing pic­ture book. I’ve read it mul­ti­ple times because I’m in a dif­fer­ent place each time I check it out from the library. I could buy this book for my col­lec­tion, but my inner child wants it from the library. The dust jack­et is encased in a cel­lo­phane wrap­per, pro­tect­ing it. I feel a sense of con­nect­ed­ness with the library book, a pass­ing down from oth­er chil­dren who have checked it out and read it or had it read to them. It begins:

There was once a bright yel­low bus

who spent her days driving.

Every morn­ing they climbed in …

pit­ter-pat­ter, pit­ter-pat­ter, gig­gle, giggle-patter.

A school bus fer­ries chil­dren to school, its usu­al job, one that fills the bus with joy. Years lat­er, it begins a new life car­ry­ing senior cit­i­zens to the library and oth­er places. Lat­er yet, the bus is aban­doned and is no longer filled with joy. There’s much more. As an adult, please give your­self the gift of read­ing this book. It’s about things we under­stand most, the pas­sage of time and the need to be useful.

The book itself is an incred­i­ble pro­duc­tion. Long’s text is brief, but the art con­tains a sto­ry as big as the uni­verse. The sto­ry behind the sto­ry is worth know­ing. He cre­at­ed the illus­tra­tions in acrylics and char­coal dust. The sto­ry behind the illus­tra­tions will make your jaw drop. Two pages of back mat­ter on the cre­ation of this book will fill you in. Sources at the end of this essay include an inter­view months before the book was pub­lished that gives more infor­ma­tion and a YouTube video that shows Long’s jour­ney with this beloved bus.

As soon as the book hit our library shelves, I checked it out. And then again when my hus­band was diag­nosed with Stage 4 can­cer. I read it to him, show­ing him how the art depict­ed time pass­ing and the stages of the yel­low bus’s lives. Months lat­er I read it to him when he had to quit work­ing at a job he enjoyed because he was 90, because he had can­cer and, main­ly, because Cor­po­rate decid­ed he was no longer needed.

I took the book out of the library again today. As I wrote this, my hus­band was 91 and near­ing the end of his jour­ney. I read him Loren Long’s won­der­ful pic­ture book once more before the yel­low bus came for him and he got on.

Sources

Beck, Martha. Beyond Anx­i­ety: Curios­i­ty, Cre­ativ­i­ty, and Find­ing Your Life’s Pur­pose. New York: Pen­guin Ran­dom House, 2025.

Bird, Bet­sy. “BB + LL: An Inter­view with Loren Long On His Upcom­ing Book, The Yel­low Bus.” School Library Jour­nal. 2 Nov. 2023.

Canaves, Jamie. “You’re Miss­ing Out As An Adult If You Don’t Read Pic­ture Books.” Book Riot. 2 June 2022.

Long, Loren. The Yel­low Bus. New York: Roar­ing Brook Press, 2024.

The Mak­ing of THE YELLOW BUS by Loren Long.” MacK­ids Books. YouTube.

Wal­ters, Gre­go­ry. “Why I Read Pic­ture Books … for Myself.” 7 Feb. 2025. Next Avenue.

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3 Comments
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David LaRochelle
1 month ago

What a beau­ti­ful essay. Your sum­mer of 500 pic­ture books is a mas­ter­class of writ­ing that any of us can enroll in. I’ve nev­er stopped read­ing pic­ture books, but I think I will increase my con­sump­tion, espe­cial­ly dur­ing these long days of sum­mer. And you’re right, THE YELLOW BUS is a marvel.

candice ransom
candice ransom
Reply to  David LaRochelle
1 month ago

Thank you, David. I wrote that essay while near­ing the end with my hus­band. I need­ed sleep back then, but I need­ed more to write about some­thing close to my heart. I tell all my grad­u­ate stu­dents about that sum­mer. Back then, there were no MFA pro­grams for chil­dren’s books, not even any books on how to write them. I sub­scribe to the DIY MFA for learn­ing any new for­mat or genre. After 45 years in the indus­try, I still do it myself.
Thanks for read­ing and commenting!

Anita
1 month ago

What a beau­ti­ful essay — on books and life. I also appre­ci­ate the reminder to savor the illus­tra­tions. I’m a “words” per­son but when my kid­dos were young, they helped me tune in to the illus­tra­tions in ways that I might nev­er have done on my own. That’s just part of the rea­son I still look for oppor­tu­ni­ties to read with bright young learners.