An interview with Leah Is A Dragonfly Now author, Sarah McLean.
Why did you decide to write Leah Is A Dragonfly Now?
Funny enough, it was only after the movie had come out that it dawned on me that one of the instructions I had given the animators was to make it “feel like a children’s picture book”. It was at that point I decided I should probably turn it into an actual picture book. But as for telling this story in particular, it was so amazing and unbelievable and sweet and hopeful that it made me want to share it with people. I kept thinking, “I have to do something with this.”
How was it adapting the movie to the book? Usually it’s the other way around.
Yeah, right? I guess I have my own way of doing things, and at that point in my life I was so used to making movies that it never occurred to me do anything else other than make it into a movie. Writing a book was not something I had ever thought about, ever. So, to answer your question, it was harder than I thought! I went in thinking it would be easy because I already had the story in text form, and I had the illustrations, so I just needed to combine them. Nope. Because the story really does cross age levels, it was a multi-year process of figuring out what reading level to focus on. A lot of back and forth. A lot. And even after I finally settled on middle grade (which was where I had originally started), there was still the issue of telling the story cohesively through pictures and text.
As you mentioned, this is all based on a true story, which is fascinating. Were there any struggles or challenges you faced? Did the story change at all?
I’d say the main struggle was finding what the crux of the story was. After the fist time I heard it I had Celine re-tell it a couple more times and recorded it. She gave me a 20-plus minute story that needed to be whittled down, ideally to 8-10 minutes, which also ended up being pretty much the perfect length for a 32 page picture book. There was some tinkering in the order of events from how the story was told to me, mainly for clarity’s sake, and then of course you always have to edit out the extraneous stuff that doesn’t serve the overall message. Other than that, the story is exactly as it happened… as told to me.
Going back to the struggle of what age to focus on, why did you decide to write this book with older children in mind?
In doing a lot of research about grief books I learned two things: there actually aren’t a lot of them out there, although that has been changing in the time it took me to adapt Leah, and of those books, hardly any were geared towards older kids. They were mostly very simple ways to slightly acknowledge someone not being around anymore that catered to 4, 5 and 6 year olds. Writing with 7, 8, 9, 10, even 11 and 12 year olds in mind allowed me to be a bit more sophisticated in the storytelling, and with word choice, like using the word “died” or using symbolism when it comes to Leah becoming a dragonfly. And at that age, I think they’re already more likely to have questions about death and grief, which hopefully this book helps foster that discussion with adults, and it can also help them learn other things, like if they don’t quite yet under symbolism. In getting feedback during the writing process, I will say, I’ve learned that kids are very, very smart.
How has telling this story changed your life?
Honestly in ways I never imagined. I thought I was just making a cute, little movie to honor my friend. All this time later, I’ve made an award-winning movie and published my first book to countless wonderful reviews. Personally, I’ve become so much more open about my life, the loss I’ve suffered, my emotions - this journey has given me a different perspective on so many things. I’m more conscious of my surroundings and appreciating the little things. People come up to me regularly and tell me that they’ve seen a dragonfly or share their own story with me. That’s been a wild thing, to now be the person to carry on Leah’s dragonfly legacy. I can certainly say I never thought I’d be giving her this much of a legacy.
People come up to you and share their stories? First of all, that’s pretty cool, but it also must be a burden, I would imagine?
Yes and no. It’s sweet that they feel comfortable coming up to me and sharing something rather personal. But it’s always done with such excitement that you can’t not feel some sort of warmth or gratitude for having heard it. I get so wrapped up in their excitement and how animated they are in telling the story, I completely lose focus on what the actual story is. It’s a joy to see people care so much and reconnect with a part of themselves they might have lost. So, I guess dragonflies are my thing now, that people associate with me, and I’m okay with that.
What is one thing you hope people take away after reading this book, or watching the movie?
I hope they find comfort in it. I want people to feel taken care of and know that things will be okay. It may take time, but things will be okay. And to always notice the signs that remind them they are never alone. In this world it can often feel like we are alone, but if we look closely, we’ll see that we’re not. I’d also love for this story to be used as a tool for teachers, counselors, and parents to tackle big, sometimes heavy and scary, topics in a way that’s accessible to kids. I’d love for it to help everyone find the beauty within the sorrow and to spark a discussion that might otherwise be hard to face.
And if people reading this want to share their story with you, how can they do that?
I would love that, and I always love to share and repost the stories, with permission. I don’t want to share someone’s personal story who doesn’t want it made public, especially if it’s too raw or painful. Tagging me at Instagram, @leahthedragonflybook, or emailing leahthedragonflybook at gmail dot com are the best. Visuals representations are always welcomed, too!