Thursday, October 29, 2026

Annie Herzig: Executing the craft of narrative illustration at the highest levels while staying true to your six-year-old self

Hello good people of SCBWI!

Next up in our illustrator insights series, we have Annie Herzig, an illustrator, author and all-around creative based out of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado!

Annie Herzig

What are some illustration choices you make by instinct now that took you a long time to build, and what frustrated you as you learned it? 

I think I am instinctually drawn to line (pun intended). I absolutely love it when I can express something with just a few simple lines. I took an online course many years ago about children’s illustration—kind of my first foray into kidlit—and the person who ran it made a bold statement of warning people against using black outlines in their illustration. I know now that it was just their own strong opinion, and not some kind of rule or preference of publishers, but it rubbed off on me for years and I found myself getting permission again and again from my critique mates (and myself) to use black/dark line in my work. Now I wouldn’t recommend that course to anyone. Art is so subjective as it is, without teaching people a hard and fast rule like that. 

Can you describe a page turn you've designed that you're really happy with, and walk us through how you came up with it? 


Here is a page turn from my book, Wonder & Awe, that I was quite proud of. I loved building up the tension through the energy-filled spot illustrations, and then bringing it all to a halt right before the page is turned. And the biggest, most joyful embrace follows, with magical footprints in the snow leading our eye right to the moment. 


I knew I wanted that embrace to be a full spread. And originally I had all of the spots of the girl getting dressed and running outside covering the full spread before it, but it didn’t make for a great page turn, it was too sudden. So I condensed the spots to the left page, and added a full bleed image on the right. Adding a needed a beat in between the action, a screeching halt and intake of breath when we see her snow friend has returned after a long separation. It added some weight to the emotional moment.

Where do you think your most interesting ideas come from? Do you have any rituals or habits that keep you connected to those sources, and what happens when you forget?

I keep a dream journal under my pillow. When I can, I lay there half-asleep, with one eye open, and scrawl illegible words and messy drawings attempting to document my other life. The life that feels so real and often makes no sense, yet sometimes makes MORE sense than this one. And sometimes they lead to very fun story and/or illustration ideas.


When you’re feeling at your best or your worst—about your work or a specific project—what does that look like and how do your work habits help you?

When I’m feeling at my worst about my work, or a specific project, I tend to avoid it. I’ll put in more time on admin, scrolling, cleaning the house, or watching shows and doing a puzzle. As avoidance seems like a negative thing, it actually helps me sometimes, to just remove myself and come back later with fresh eyes. It also helps me to simply have art play time. To paint instinctively, and BIG, or get my hands dirty in clay, or to get together with illustrator friends and play drawing games. Those explorations pay dividends later on. It’s all part of the process.


What are some things you used to believe about developing a style that you no longer believe?

Once upon a time I thought all of my work had to look exactly the same. That the noses and ears and hands, etc all had to be drawn the same way project to project. That I had to use the same kind of color palettes in every piece. Now I know that’s not true, and that style is essentially ME. Style is MY individual interpretation of the subject at a given moment in time. Specific media doesn’t matter, technique doesn’t matter, the exact way I draw a nose doesn’t matter. Exploring different techniques and media are great and can help to get closer to myself, and thus my style. But my style is me. Your style is you.

How has your work changed in the last 5 years and what caused those changes?

My work has definitely changed in the last five years. I am always striving to be looser and looser, and I think that is starting to show itself more. I hate the feeling of tightening up on a piece. I love happy little accidents—and yes, I did watch Bob Ross every Sunday growing up, and I am proud of it. I have also made returns to the things that instinctually feel better, like expressive line, globs of paint, big messy blocks of graphite, or hard-to-control paint sticks—basically anything 6-year-old Annie would have a blast with.


What is something you struggle with that you use to your advantage?

I like to joke with my illustrator friends that I’m lazy. They get all up in arms and do beautiful work of lifting me up, encouraging me, stroking my ego, assuring me I am NOT lazy! And I laugh because I love their fierce, instant, and heartfelt rebuttal. No, I know I’m not lazy, I actually work very hard, BUT I can be impatient with my own work. I love a surprising result from a quick brush stroke. I love the energy of working fast. If someone suggests I keep hacking away at something that’s not working (“try this and try that”) I tend to say I’m too lazy to try it. But in reality I guess it’s just following an instinct, and realizing I’ve lost my patience with a piece and with myself. I’d rather walk away and start fresh later.


What kinds of agent and art director feedback are most helpful to you? 

The feedback that helps me most involves a “what-if conversation,” as I like to call it with my critique group. Basically tossing ideas on the table for making a story or piece stronger. “What if your character LIVED in that big hat, instead of just wearing it?” Crazy ideas I may not have thought of in my silo. This kind of constructive collaboration is what really brings kidlit to life for me. I am soooooo much better in my work because of my author/illustrator friends and publishing teams that I work with. Without them, I can be so bored by my own ideas after awhile. I LOVE it when I can find that kind of relationship with an editor or art director.


Have you ever taken something out of your portfolio that you really liked but knew wasn't helping your overall portfolio? How did you decide?

I’ve removed any and all digitally-created work from my portfolio, even though I do still love some pieces. I did jump on that train for a minute, but as it turns out, I am not someone whose work shines when made digitally. I like the happy little accidents too much. Working digitally, I have no restraint on an iPad and will refine and tighten until the last minute something is due. I’ve also removed pieces that I had a blast making but just didn’t have enough narrative. I’d say narrative is the single most important thing to showcase in an illustration portfolio.

You can find more about Annie at her website!



Bear Howe is an author/illustrator and multidisciplinary artist living in Michigan, USA. Their art practice includes fine art, illustration and staying curious, exploring themes of belonging, awe, mystery, discovery and liberation. 

Where you can find Bear:

On Substack at BecomeingArt and @bearhoweart on social media

Their website has their Portfolio

Teaching kids art classes at Young Illustrators Studio




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