Guest Post by Holly Thompson
My books tend to have a slow incubation time–perhaps because I tend to cultivate stories rooted deeply in place, stories for which I need to spend months and years researching.
This not-so-expedient method derives in part from my early plan to become a wildlife biologist. I spent years as a child and teen at local Audubon properties in Massachusetts–attending day and overnight camps; taking weekend and evening classes on flora and fauna; and working as an Audubon camp counselor for four summers. So in my senior year of high school I created my own wildlife biology internship–specifically to observe birds, insects, mammals and plants as spring rolled in. My supervisor was a naturalist, birder and watershed specialist, and instead of attending high school classes, I spent my days observing field, forest and wetland environments of the Ipswich River Wildlife Sanctuary. I was aiming to become a wildlife biologist.
![]() |
| Photo courtesy of Mass Audubon |
That spring I documented bird migrations; learned to identify birds by silhouette and song; managed wood duck houses–counting eggs from a canoe; banded birds for population studies; learned meadow management to protect pheasant and bobolink nests; and walked miles of trails in all weather, pausing to raise my binoculars and write observations in my notebook.
At the end of the three months, I wrote a report and gave a talk about my experience to the high school principal and teachers. That spring of wildlife observation and study–taking copious notes, researching, and reporting–plus my college major in biology, helped develop the close attention I pay to environments when I'm writing novels and picture books.
For all of my books, I spend months or years observing, listening to, and learning, the human and natural environments of my story. I often immerse myself in place. For my novel Ash I did on-site research in Kagoshima and Kyoto; for Orchards I apprenticed to a Shizuoka mikan farmer; for The Language Inside I made multiple study trips to Cambodia and Lowell, Massachusetts and consulted with the Angkor Dance Troupe; for Falling into the Dragon’s Mouth, I built a story of intensifying bullying grounded in the seaside town of Kamakura where I lived for many years.
| Holly Thompson with mikan farmer in Shizuoka |
Picture books, though shorter than novels, also often require years of observation, experience and research, until I have the ability to zoom in and zoom out from my idea to grow a story that invites illustration. Some books take years of learning. The Wakame Gatherers, illustrated by Kazumi Wilds followed many seasonal observations of local wakame seaweed cultivation in Kamakura. Listening to Trees: George Nakashima, Woodworker (2025 Crystal Kite winner!), illustrated by Toshiki Nakamura, took eight years of research and drafting from the day I received the go-ahead from George’s children to submitting the final manuscript in haibun form to my editor. One picture book I’m currently working on has taken three years so far, another, fifteen. I’ve learned to be patient as I grow stories.
In some way or another, all of my books draw on that immersive wildlife biology experience I had as a teen. That experience heightened my awareness of environments and taught me to rely on all my senses wherever I am–to make observations, sketch, take photos and notes; to patiently collect first-hand experiences over time; to conduct thorough research; to learn from specialists and receive feedback from mentors; and to patiently draft and rewrite.
“Observe, Experience, Research, Write” is how my stories begin and grow.
How about you?












