The Shape of a Creative Year
Creative years are rarely linear. They don’t unfold neatly from one finished project to the next, and they’re almost never defined by constant momentum. More often creative years move in cycles, from intensity to stillness, doubt to confidence, visibility to retreat. This year reminded me that a consistent creative practice asks for patience, and a willingness to show up even when no one’s watching. Today’s post is a seasonal reflection of my illustration practice this year, including the projects I was grateful to work on, as well as embracing the lulls and continuing the work of showing up. I hope you enjoy it.
Winter: Riding the Creative Wave
At the beginning of this year, I was already deep into my second children’s book, Thank You Teacher. The spreads had been approved by the art director before the holidays, so January was spent quietly finishing the internal illustrations. Most of this work happened over the first few weeks of the year, just as my first book, Dancing in the Rain had started the year before. It’s a familiar rhythm by now, and being busy during the winter months is something I’ve come to accept as part of my creative seasons.
Alongside this book project, I was balancing teaching at a school, studying for a dance teacher qualification, and transitioning into a new city role at an arts charity a couple of days a week. This role was one that had landed in my lap, and while the demands of responsibility pushed me to balance days intentionally, it was an opportunity that suited me well and that I wanted to dedicate some time to. Creative work therefore existed in pockets. This year, that didn’t look like long, uninterrupted days in the studio. It looked like an hour here, an afternoon there. I often left my paint palette out overnight, so I could roll out of bed and continue where I’d left off the night before. But I continued to show up. I leaned heavily on intuition, learning when to follow the inspiration wave as it arrived, and when to let myself do nothing at all. Both I realised, were necessary.
Meaningful creative work is rarely glamorous. It lives in the mundane, ordinary afternoons or late-night camp-outs at the drawing table, where you choose to sit down whether the conditions are perfect or not. I used to feel frustrated by the stop-start nature of creative energy. Now, I’ve learned to embrace it. With that shift, I’ve become better at recognising when to ride the wave, and when to allow myself to do nothing at all. The life of an illustrator in reality is built through repetition. By becoming someone who instinctively reaches for their sketchbook when a spare moment appears. By putting systems in place so that when inspiration arrives, action feels natural rather than something to procrastinate over. I was reminded of Julia Cameron’s advice in The Artist’s Way: you don’t salute the desk like a sergeant, ready to pump out work on command. You ride the wave of inspiration. And when it comes, your only job is to act.
Spring: Working Without Witness
Having submitted my finished spreads to Hachette, spring became a season of quiet transition. I showed my face on video for the first time for an interview and online feature with Children’s Book North, and settled more fully into my city role, all the while gently phasing out teaching. Saying goodbye to the children I’d taught for the last three years was unexpectedly emotional. I gifted them hand-painted sketchbooks, and in return received letters and handmade cards that affirmed something I’ve always hoped to pass on: that art is valuable not because it’s perfect, but because it’s practised. Because you show up again and again, and because individual ideas matter. I had the wonderful opportunity to see Thank You, Teacher on the shelves of bookshops in my hometown - something I will never, ever get tired of. And began working on a project with Bury Art Museum, which was a full-circle collaboration involving children from my old primary school and lecturer from my old university. Their stories were illustrated, printed, and gifted back to the community. It took a couple of months, from sketches to final, and I didn’t make much noise about it, which felt right for this project. Without the pressure to document each step, my sketches emerged naturally, and I felt a lot of freedom in creating compositions that didn’t feel performative.
This season reminded me how powerful it can be to work without the pressure to announce every step. I’ve often been asked how to resist the pull of social media, and while I don’t claim to have mastered it, keeping a little distance has served me well. Too much time on there can blur your instincts, pulling you toward what you should be doing rather than what feels true for you. These days, illustration and social media are not separate outlets for me. The work always comes first however, and I allow that to be filtered into posts and portfolios later. This transitional time revealed to me that not everything needs to be shared. Working quietly and nurturing a project with your creative energy can produce something just as meaningful.
Summer: When Life Is Full and Work Is Quiet
Summer arrived with warmth and community, and yet creatively, I felt a lull. On a muggy evening at the office, where I had now accepted a permanent position, I received an email from Factory International asking me to illustrate activity sheets for children visiting during Manchester International Festival. I remember sitting in the dusk-lit room, eating a halloumi salad before heading out to an arts event, feeling incredibly grateful for another exciting opportunity. We also gathered for our summer Drawn In event with Sketch and Cafe at Fairfield Social Club, I ran an illustration workshop at House of Books and Friends for little mess-makers, and attended a Pecha Kucha evening with cocktails and friends - just a few highlights of the season.
And yet, when the bustle softened, I began to notice a lull in creative projects and inspiration. I hadn’t made anything new for my portfolio since the project with Bury Museum, and client conversations had quietened. That dissonance, as all creatives know, can be unsettling. This is often where creatives reach a fork in the road. One path leads to frustration and self-blame. The other asks for responsibility. I chose the second. I reminded myself that staying open to opportunities is what matters. If you remain open to ideas and show up to doing the work anyway, you become a kind of lighthouse to opportunities. Not by forcing outcomes, but by making yourself available to them. It’s okay if sometimes life feels full and work feels quiet. Being social does not mean you’re failing creatively, and a creative lull does not cancel out the joy of living. During a quiet week on the Norfolk coast, as summer drew to a close, I set the intention to welcome in support and inspiration again. Not through force, but through curiosity and openness. Once the intention was set, it took only a few days for my path to emerge.
Autumn: Commitment
It was on the threshold of autumn, during a day out with friends, that the idea of an accountability club emerged. One friend suggested that a small group of us could meet weekly, not to hustle, but to stay honest with each other, and to finish the projects we’d been circling for too long, as well as offering each other thoughtful feedback. We each chose two goals. Mine were to finish a project I loved the idea of, but hadn’t touched in over a year, and to be more consistent in sharing my work online. When asked why I hadn’t finished the Coraline project I’d started last year, my answer was simple: I hadn’t made the time. So this season, I did.
With the support of this structure, I committed to completing four portfolio pieces. I experimented, scrapped ideas, returned to old sketches, listened to the audiobook, built mood boards, and slowly felt my creative spark begin to bubble up again. Turns out creativity is very simple if you nurture it well. The more you feed it and show up for it, the more it grows, and the more it rewards you. At the same time, my relationship with my online presence shifted. Instead of sharing as an afterthought, I began treating my feed as an extension of my practice. I felt more comfortable sharing processes, and using it as a space to tell the story of the work rather than just presenting the finished result. As Austin Kleon writes, showing your work isn’t about constant output, or being perfect, it’s about building a consistent, honest dialogue. With this steady commitment came excitement. I found myself waking in the night to scribble down notes and visual ideas - that familiar, electric feeling I’d missed over the summer months. Even now, as the year draws to a close, those ideas are still flowing. My job, as is for all illustrators, is to simply keep showing up, to water the roots, and ride the wave for as long as I can.
Looking ahead
As we draw a curtain on the year, I hope this post serves as a reminder that the coming year doesn’t need to be a fresh start. Value can be measured in the days you rested as well as those spent at the drawing table. Sometimes the most meaningful progress is simply in showing up, tending what you’ve already planted, and trusting that growth compounds over time. That, I’ve learned, is the real measure of a creative year.
I wish you all success and joy for the coming year ahead! Thank you for reading friends.
C x
Illustrator Interview with Children’s Book North Network: Catherine Booth
A little while ago, Children’s Book North kindly interviewed me about my illustration work, how I got started, what I’ve been working on recently, and things I’d love to see more of from the publishing and illustration industry in the North.
It was such a lovely chat and a great opportunity to reflect on my process and what I’m currently working towards.
If you didn’t catch it when it was first published, here’s the full interview.
In this Northern Highlight, we interview Catherine Booth, an illustrator based in Manchester. Catherine co-hosts Drawn In, Manchester’s meet-up for illustrators.
Where are you based, and how would you sum up the place in three words?
I’m based in Manchester. In three words: friendly, buzzing, home. It’s where I grew up, and over the years, it’s become a place I love fiercely. The skies are often heavy and grey, but I’ve come to find comfort in that. I’m grateful that Manchester has such a vibrant creative scene too. There’s countless bars and cafés with the perfect balance of working energy and matcha lattes to keep me satisfied.
If you could be transported to anywhere in the North or Scotland right now, where would it be?
There’s a small village tucked between County Durham and the Lake District called Mickleton – that’s where I’d go. I first discovered it during lockdown, when the world was quiet and I escaped for some rest and reflection. I’ve stayed there a couple of times since then. When I'm there, my routine usually starts early in the morning, before the sun rises and I can draw while being serenaded by the cows and crows. I often walk along the river and bake bread while I’m there. If I ever need to retreat from the city’s buzz, that’s where I’d want to be.
What is special to you about creating children’s books, and what’s your favourite part of the process?
The research phase of the process has always been the part I love most. I tend to begin by gathering a hefty amount of books, and giving myself the excuse to explore museums and galleries, armed with my sketchbook and mechanical pencils. I love immersing myself in texture, history, and anything that helps evoke a strong sense of place. Creating a book often feels like world-building. I become the architect, the costume designer, and set-maker all at once. The research phase is always where I feel the most freedom and flow. It’s also the part of the process with the least amount of decision-making, which suits me just fine!
Tell us about the most recent book you’ve worked on.
This winter, I illustrated a short black-and-white children’s book titled Thank You, Teacher, published by Hachette. It was the first time I created an entire book in graphite, aside from the cover, and as an illustrator who loves colour and paint, I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge! I worked on it during the slow weeks of January and finished in just over a month. As someone who’s also been an art teacher for the past three years, illustrating children felt especially close to home, and I was able to add little references to their charm, curiosity, and mischief into the characters. It was a comforting project that kept me grounded during those slow weeks after Christmas.
What recent children’s or YA book by a Northern or Scottish creative have you enjoyed?
It has to be King Winter’s Birthday illustrated by Emily Sutton. I’ve admired Emily’s work for years, and this book, like all of hers, is exquisitely illustrated. I’m a sucker for winter books, full of magic, snow, and Nordic influences. Emily’s traditional line work and her sensitivity to colour and texture turns each page into a work of art. Her illustrations fill me with joy every time.
What literary events have you attended or been involved with recently?
I co-host Drawn In, Manchester’s meet-up for illustrators, and recently we hosted a talk with my agent, Mark, from The Plum Agency. The event included live portfolio reviews, held in the beautiful House of Books and Friends, which was a fantastic opportunity for our audience to hear real-time feedback from a well-established agent. With a focus on children’s book publishing, Mark generously shared his vast knowledge and experience working as an agent and representing illustrators in children’s publishing.
What would you like to see from children’s publishing in the North or Scotland?
At Drawn In, we’re working toward a more inclusive and accessible creative space, where stories are shared more widely, and new voices feel empowered to enter the industry. Speaking from personal experience, publishing can often feel mysterious or out of reach for many. I’d love to use our platform to lift the veil and highlight illustrators who have found ways to overcome those barriers, and carved their own unique path within the industry. By sharing stories of persistence and creative resilience, we can help dismantle the myth that the industry is only for a select few and instead foster a strong, supportive network that helps aspiring creatives find their own way in.
What advice would you give to aspiring creatives in the North or Scotland?
Most of the projects I’ve worked on came from a mix of persistence, timing, and sharing my work regularly. After graduating, I spent years working hard with little to show for it. But in 2023, things began to shift. Commissions started arriving because I had built a consistent body of work, so there was something for people to connect with when they found me. That’s where I’d tell others to begin: create what you love, build your portfolio, and share it often.
There’s no perfect formula. At times, it will feel like nothing is happening. I’ve felt that too. Even the illustrators you look up to are still figuring things out. Keep going. Stay focused on what brings you joy. That energy will carry you much further than trying to do everything at once.
Thank you Children’s Book North!
A Summer Meet-Up with Drawn In
Hello sweetest gems!
I’m making a brief pit-stop here, on my corner of the internet, to share a little joy from our most recent Drawn In meet-up, Manchester’s social for illustrators, artists and sketchbook-lovers. Just look at this gorgeous lot!
This time we set up shop at Fairfield Social Club, a spot I’d visited earlier in the year for a Pecha Kucha night with my lovely friends Louise and Nathan. There’s something about those festoon lights and long shared tables that makes it a very welcoming, slightly magical hideout.
This time around, we were joined by the ever-lovely Jenny from Sketch and Cafe, who led part of the event with her signature playful drawing prompts and wholesome sketching session. Diving head-first into continuous line-drawings and collaborative illustrations is the perfect way to shake off the nerves, chat around the table and remember why we love to make art in the first place…to play of course!
I’m grateful to have been able to catch up with so many of my gorgeous illustration pals I’ve met over recent years too, some who’ve just moved studios and others in the midst of the hard slog of deadlines, others just exploring new creative paths. It really does fill my heart to spend time with them. It does much good for the inner-artist too. Our theme for this month’s meet-up was ‘Sketchbook Journeys', and I think its safe to say that for most illustrators sketchbooks can be a space of both frustration and joy, so to hear other people’s struggles, wonky perspectives, and abandoned projects felt strangely comforting, and made the event an open and non-judgemental space for people to share their failures as well as their wins, without pressure.
Once everyone had arrived and settled in with a drink, we began with sharing our sketchbooks with each other, which, as most vulnerable things do, tends to be the thing that connects us the most. We shared pages we were proud of and things we were hoping to work towards. There’s something very grounding about sharing your ‘ugly’ work with others - you realise very quickly that no one is the ‘perfect’ artist, and that most people, in their own creative way, are still figuring things out as they go.
Then, after Jenny led the loose drawing prompts to wake us all up and get out of overthinking, the event coasted with some space to do our own personal sketching. Between the chatting and the drinking all I had time to draw was this little lady in my Pith sketchbook. It was such a lovely event, and as we wrapped up for the night, many of us stayed, sketchbooks sprawled across the benches, and long chats into the evening. Summer in the city at its finest.
I’ve always been an advocate for socials like these, that’s why I love being a part of Drawn In so much. These moments of authentic connection are rare, and having gone through a time in my life where I didn’t know of any other illustrators I could chat to, to now make work alongside them and share goals with other likeminded creatives, is so valuable. And if you came along to the event, thank you for making this community what it is. We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!
Current Musings…
*This song has snuck it’s way into my playlist for Summer and I’m not mad about it. It makes me want to lay in the grass and watch the sun set over the city. Perfect for August.
*I’ve gotten back into reading on the morning commute, and currently I’m making my way through A History of the World in a Hundred Objects. I have to be in the right mood for non-fiction, but this book has been strangely comforting and makes me want to visit the British Museum again!
*Exciting workshop news! This August I’m running a child-friendly illustration workshop at the beautiful House of Books and Friends, hopefully creating a little joyful chaos! If you’re coming along I can’t wait to see you there.
*I was very kindly featured on Children’s Book North socials last month. It was my first time making ‘proper’ video content and my goodness I have a newfound respect for influencers! I spent an entire day filming 30 seconds of footage! It’s so far out of my comfort zone to be in front of a camera, but, as the lovely Yusra said in her Pecha Kucha talk, embrace the cringe! And I’m certainly trying.
Thank you for reading friends, as always. I hope your August sends you good thoughts and long sunny evenings with people you love.
With smudgy hands and a full heart,
C x
Book Birthday ~ Thank You, Teacher
Hello, sweetest ones! How are we all?
Somehow, it’s almost summer, and I find myself in subtle disbelief. Was it the unusually hot weather we’ve had that disrupted my usual routine, or the influx of projects I’ve been juggling? Who can say. Regardless, we’ve made it this far, and I hope the year so far has been kind to you.
Today is a special post, celebrating the recent publication of my new children’s book, Thank You, Teacher, published by Hachette. This project kept me company through the slow weeks of January and is my first book created entirely in pencil (excluding the cover)! It was both a challenge and a joy to create, and honestly, I absolutely loved it. Through those quiet months, the heart-warming sketches gave me much comfort, and I managed to complete the whole book fairly quickly. It was a fast turnaround, taking just over a month to finish. April’s newsletter lifted the curtain on my process for this book. So if you’d like to read more about it, you can do so here.
Last weekend, I headed down to a sun-soaked Manchester to see the first copies of Thank You, Teacher on the shelves of Waterstones and HOBAF. It truly was a pinch-me moment. Seeing something I’d created by hand, printed and stocked in bookshops I’ve loved for a long time, I wonder whether there’s a word to describe the feeling it gave me. My inner child was so happy. I’m incredibly grateful for the guidance and support I had from my wonderful art directors, Samuel and Rosie, and, as always, my agent Mark. To work with people who are truly fans of your work is as fulfilling as holding the finished product. And of course, being a teacher myself, it was a pleasure to work on a book that will be drawn in, written in, and gifted by small hands to their teachers. I value connection deeply in my work, and I felt that at the heart of this little book. I’ve been celebrating with long, drawn-out moments of gratitude this month, with bookshop visits, lots of unboxings, and the odd piña colada. It’s been wonderful.
Let’s catch up!
While I was finishing up the edits for Thank You, Teacher, my agency took some future projects I’m optimistic about to the Bologna Book Fair. I couldn’t attend myself this year, as I recently started a new arts administration job in the city centre. While this means I’m no longer a full-time freelancer, the role brings a helpful boost in income during a quieter season for book projects. I still get to dedicate a couple of days each week to my beloved creative practice however, and the community projects that I get to be involved in adds another dimension to my life as a creative in the northern arts community. This change in routine has also made me curious about how other freelancers balance their time and income. From conversations with friends in the same field, it seems to be a constant, shifting balance. I do love it though, and I have a feeling this summer will give me a little more space to settle into these new roles and provide me with time to enjoy making art just for me.
I’ve also been spending a lot of time with people I love. It’s deeply nourishing, and has become more and more apparent how much I value connection. This month, the Drawn In gang and I visited the colourful Caterpillar Press to brainstorm a future risograph workshop, which I’m sure will be a hit with the creative communities in Manchester and Stockport! It’s always a joy catching up with Nicola, Jordan, Louise, and Nathan, and hearing about their own projects and progress. I also went on a Sketch & Stretch retreat with my dear friend Amber, which was a dream. It was led by Emma Thorlby, and I got to meet the lovely Caroline Dowsett! I even went to my first Eurovision party, which was MAD. I did enjoy this one however, from Latvia. Alongside a few private painting events and mentoring a third-year illustration student, it’s been a busy, variety-filled season. I guess I really am living the life of an illustrator!
So, what’s next? I’m currently working on a sweet community project in partnership with Bury Art Museum. I’m collaborating with a lecturer from my old university, Manchester Metropolitan, and the stories I’ll be illustrating have been written by children, some from my old primary school, so this is a project that is incredibly close to home. I won’t be doing full-page illustrations for this one, which should, in theory, make the process a little quicker. I’ve really enjoyed the collaborative nature so far, and I’m excited to see how the illustrations develop.
Thank you, as always, dear friends, for being here, for reading, liking, and supporting in every way you do. It never goes unnoticed. I wish you all a creative season ahead. Let me know what you’re working on in the comments below!
See you around!
C x