Emerging from the Shadows
Rediscovering My Voice in the Online World
26th Sept 2024
Hello there. This is a first for me. It’s taken a great deal of courage, planning, and ruminating to get to this point. And here it is: I have decided to start writing a bi-weekly blog.
Firstly, I have to preface this by stating that I have very little experience with writing. Some of you reading this may know me best as the children’s book illustrator, perhaps as the new illustrator of the very well-known children’s author, Jacqueline Wilson (still pinching myself over that one). However, I’ve been toying with the idea of writing for years. It became evident to me that I quite enjoyed writing during creative writing projects and essays during my educational years. Writing always seemed to come to me so easily; actually, as easy as I found drawing. As soon as I began, I would feel the rush that so many writers out there know so well, and I would find it difficult to stop. Whether the writing was good each time was by the by; I still loved doing it. Unfortunately, it was an endeavour I never pursued in my later years after school. My art would always sit up front in the shop window all bright and shiny, whilst my writing sat solemnly on the back shelf, catching dust. This was eventually joined by my guitar playing, my singing, and regrettably during my teenage years, my reading. I’m sad about them all, but especially that last one. Like many, my teens were as tough as anything, and I definitely lost my way for a long time. Priorities got muddled, and boys, smart phones, and partying became a heavy distraction. So there sat my sad collection of unpursued potential endeavours, and writing would wait years to be picked up again.
Occasionally, I would reach back for it during my late teens, writing my own songs to sing along to whilst playing my dilapidated ten-year-old guitar. However, I only used this songwriting as a form of therapy after going through a hard time, and when I threw out the guitar the singing and songwriting stopped. A little later I dabbled in a bit of poetry after being inspired by Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey. I poured over those pages for weeks, fixating on her style and probably emanating it rather too closely when writing my own. You often do when you’re first inspired by creatives you’re intensely moved by.
Extract from Rupi Kaur's Milk and Honey
Eventually, my illustration career took off (that’s for another blog post) and by my hard work and luck, I finally found myself working in the children’s book industry. Surrounded by agents, projects, books, manuscripts, publishers, and authors; one would think this would be the very fire that would send me running into the back of my figurative shop, clambering at the dusty shelf to retrieve my old, dusty writing endeavour. It certainly peaked some kind of feeling inside of me; but the feeling was quickly identified as nerves. Who did I think I was trying to write after all this time? Who was I to ever call myself a writer? I’d never even tried writing a book, an article, or even a blog in my life! I was far too inexperienced to think I could ever even try walking amongst the successful giants within the industry. Stick to your illustration, Rachael. You know drawing, and that is all you know.
Now, I look back and think to myself ‘Stop booing yourself off the stage before anyone has a chance to see you perform!’. But self-deprecating words can be so powerful, because for five years my negative mindset has held me back, I’ve barely allowed myself to entertain the idea of writing since starting out in the industry. Sure, I’ve typed out a few synopsises and plots, bashed out plenty of descriptive paragraphs, and entered numerous diary entries just for myself (especially in Covid lock down- sheesh!) but it wouldn’t take long before I’d snap the diary shut, or click ‘X’ on my word document, shutting out all my writing and refraining from even looking at it for months on end. I wouldn’t really call that proper writing.
So, why start now? Well before answering that, let’s go back to 2018, when I was a great deal more present online. I would interact constantly with my followers and show up in my stories to chat to them most days. I’d have that young 20-something year old ignorance to confidently show my face and connect with people on a more personal level, which resulted in socialising with my followers more, as well as successes in my shop and commission business. Now, I’m aware that I’m perhaps rather more elusive online these days. The reality is, I got scared and overwhelmed. As I worked with more high-profile clients and bagged bigger book titles, I started to feel silly about chit chatting online. Showing up talking on my Instagram stories began to feel like one of those bad dreams where you’re suddenly stood in your school hall in only your knickers, and everyone is pointing at you laughing. I felt embarrassed, young, and inexperienced, and I battled constantly with imposter syndrome. So, with projects and deadlines consuming my days, I submerged myself into my illustration work. And as Instagram algorithms warped, and the landscape of social media mutated into another life form, I watched anxiously in the shadows, quieter than I’d ever been before.
Uluwatu, Bali May 2019
Yet, over the past year I have felt a shift in my feelings towards all of this, an awakening if you will. During a time in my life where I have had little independence whilst living at home with my partner’s parents, I have never wanted to smash through my own glass ceiling more. It started with a couple of pivotal moments over this past year. One of them was when my half-sister, who lives in London, was at a dinner party with friends and one friend who worked in publishing announced to the table something along the lines of,
‘Have you heard about this new illustrator that Jacqueline Wilson has now? Someone called ‘Rachael Dean’? Who is that?’
My sister chimed in to let her know that I was her sister, but I thought to myself that if her friend was to go online and do a quick google search of this ‘Rachael Dean’, she may be greeted with plenty of my artwork and a short bio explaining briefly who I am, but she probably wouldn’t find much else about me anywhere. She was right, who is Rachael Dean?
The second wakeup call was when I recently received an impressively written fan letter from a young girl called Eliza (see below- certain information has been hidden to protect privacy). In order to find out anything about me, she only had a very basic bio to read online, and when re-reading this myself I realised it really was just a breezy snapshot of who I am, and even the writing voice I had used wasn’t really a reflection of me at all.
There is so much more to my voice. I am not quiet, elusive, and mysterious. You would only have to ask anyone who truly knows me, and they’ll tell you how open and talkative I am. How much I could gab for hours about my obsession with the moon and UAPs, how much witchcraft terrifies and intrigues me, how poignant the concept of death has been in my life, the fact I have an irrational fear of barnacles. That I’m a cackler, and you’ll probably hear it from across the bar all night (sorry). How I change my favourite colour and clothing style according to my mood, how nothing is fun to me in this world unless it’s weird and hilarious. That I’m a painfully polite people pleaser on the surface, but a terribly messy wild child underneath. And how I have dreams to leave something meaningful behind in this little world after I depart.
There have been many more signs over the years, urging me to push out the boat more in multiple areas of my life, and to show people who I really am behind the work. However, the dinner party and the letter stuck with me the most for whatever reason. So now, it just so happens that I am naturally moving into a new chapter of my life, so what better time to step out of my comfort zone. After nearly three decades of living with parents (the joys of being a millennial with little money) my partner and I have eventually managed to save up enough to buy a house and have moved in together for the first time in 9 years of our relationship. After having little to no independence with our living circumstances for what seemed to be an eternity, we are now finally free. The feeling can only be described as living my entire 20’s in a state of limbo, waiting for my true life to begin. I have felt held back with work, personal growth, maturity, and life in general, and I believe that it’s affected my confidence in many areas.
Receiving the keys to our future home, November 2023
However, I know that it is essentially down to me to push myself out of my comfort zone in the end. So, here is the first terrifying step. Writing down a blog of my inner thoughts, my creative experiences, my life learnings, and sending it out into the world. I’m eager to use this as an exercise to not only ease myself back into writing, but to finally share who I am as the person behind the art. This will be an exercise in which I will be forced to harness self-discipline and stickability, to share the joys and struggles of experiencing life as it comes, and to humanise myself to those who may be curious. Putting my words out there will feel unnerving at times, but I’m hoping for the most part it’ll feel like a healthy release. Like finally letting go of holding onto a huge breath, or the feeling of the electricity shooting through your body after a good run. For those who read this, I hope you find relatability and comfort in my words. I have so many topics I’m excited to write about. Maybe some themes will be relatable to you, maybe some won’t. If so, feel free to skip a week and check in to see if the next blog post works for you.
Because don’t worry, I promise I’m not going anywhere any time soon.
Yours,
Rachael x
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