Kantorovitz's own first child, a girl, died soon after her birth three months premature. A second daughter was also born three months early, but after spending three months in neonatal intensive care, "came home to lead a healthy life," Kantorovitz said in a recent interview. That daughter, Sam, will be a senior in college this fall.
Kantorovitz has illustrated 25 books to date. This is the fourth book that she has also written. (The earlier three were under the name she used throughout her marriage, Sylvie Wickstrom.)
Every story, she says, seems to call for a different approach to the artwork. With this book, she wanted to write from the brother's point of view and keep the artwork childlike, so that it would feel like a "story told and drawn by a child."
Q: What was it like, writing a story that was so personal for you?
A: Writing "The Very Tiny Baby" was one of the most intense things I have experienced, and this took me completely by surprise. As I was creating the first draft, I felt very emotional, the words poured out of me, I barely took breaks. I cried. What was going on?
Then something dawned on me: I was writing for myself! I was writing as the older sibling of a very premature younger brother. I was too young to remember anything, but our family story goes like this: When I was 2 1/2, my brother was born very premature and was not thriving at the hospital. He was sent home "to die," and my mother, in terror of germs, closeted herself with him in an empty white room and nursed him to life.
The story does not mention what happened to little-me. I am sure I was very well cared for, but what was I told? Was I told anything? What did I feel? Was I scared? Was I lonely? These questions are not part of the story. So I finally answered them through my story of Jacob.
Q: What is your feeling about facing up, in your writing, to kids' fears and darker thoughts? Your book depicts Jacob's jumbled feelings about this tiny baby who is absorbing everyone's attention and making everyone sad and worried for days and weeks on end. At one point, he feels resentful and actually wishes that the tiny baby would die; that page is mostly black, with just one small line at the bottom that says "I wish the baby would die."
A: The world of children is not as carefree as we'd like to think. Sometimes it can be confusing and scary. Children feel very strongly, and this intensity of emotions can itself be confusing, too. Books that depict a range of emotions may help some children recognize, understand, and accept their own feelings. It is always comforting to find out others feel the same as we do.
Children waiting for a new sibling feel a variety of emotions ranging from excitement and anticipation to anxiety, jealousy, anger, resentment.
These feelings may be heightened if a baby is born prematurely, because the danger is real and the parents are especially anxious.
I felt very strongly about the line that you mention, and I am thankful to my editor and the marketing department for letting me keep it in. Jacob is not a monster. He doesn't understand the implications of what he is saying. For him, the baby's death would mean a return to the life he knows, just him and his parents. He does know the thought is uncomfortable, shameful, terrible even. But at that moment, he doesn't fully understand why.
Another reason that line is important to me is that children are afraid of their "bad" thoughts. Will the thought come true? This can be terrifying. But Jacob's wish has no effect on the outcome. The baby comes home healthy and Jacob falls in love. Isn't that reassuring?
To me, the main theme of "The Very Tiny Baby" is emotional upheaval. It is a universal theme, whether there is a baby-to-be-born or not. In fact, I have seen many adult friends reading the book and tearing up. In recognition, perhaps?
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