Some books begin with an idea you’ve been thinking about for a long time. Others seem to arrive almost fully formed. You Are a Supernova! was definitely the latter.

 

By the time I wrote this book, I had already written Zoey and Her Amazing Energy Bubble!, Holding On, Letting Go, and Cal and His Amazing Attention Pie! Each of those books came to me in its own way, but each was rooted in ideas and frameworks I had already been thinking about. I had theories I was exploring, concepts I wanted to explain differently, or ways of looking at familiar ideas that I thought children might benefit from seeing in a new way.

 

But You Are a Supernova! was completely different.

 

I wasn’t planning to write another book, but one day, the word supernova simply popped into my mind. I remember thinking, What is a supernova? I honestly didn’t really know. Then the word came to me again, and then a couple more times, so I looked it up. Eventually, one night, the words and rhythm just started coming together, and I quickly wrote them down. It felt less like I had decided to write the book and more like the book had decided it needed to exist!

 

Once I started exploring the idea of a supernova, I became fascinated by what it could mean as a metaphor for a child. We often tell children, “You’re a superstar!” or “You’re amazing!” Usually, though, we say those things because of something they’ve done. They got a good grade, learned something difficult, were kind to someone, or accomplished something they had been working toward. Those things are absolutely worth celebrating, but I started thinking about the fact that underneath all of those accomplishments is something even more fundamental—their existence. What if we could help a child understand that their life is already an extraordinary gift—not simply because of what they may accomplish, but because of the miracle of their existence and the potential they have been given to bring those things into existence? And even when they don’t reach their goals or accomplish something extraordinary, there is still something remarkable about simply being here—to experience, to feel, to wonder, to try, to connect, and to enjoy the life they’ve been given.

 

Each of us has been given a body to live in and experience the world through. We have a brain that allows us to think and imagine, senses that allow us to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell, a heart that connects us to other people, and a completely unique combination of qualities, interests, abilities, and ways of seeing the world. We don’t know yet what all of those things will become, and that’s part of the excitement. What will you discover? What will you learn? What will you create? Who will you love? What experiences will shape you? What will you do with this incredible life you’ve been given?

 

And yet, life doesn’t always unfold the way we imagine it will. Some of us will experience challenges within our bodies, while others will face difficult circumstances that we never expected. We don’t all get the same starting point, and we don’t all have the same journey. I think part of the beauty of being human is learning how to continue moving forward, even when life becomes difficult, and discovering what is possible within the circumstances we have been given.

 

That is something I wanted to capture through Theo and Grace. They are witnesses to each other throughout the story. They share experiences, notice one another, and see each other through the good moments and the harder ones. They don’t have to fix everything for each other. Sometimes, simply having someone there who sees you, experiences life alongside you, and reminds you of who you are can be incredibly meaningful.

 

The message I want to share with children is that there is great potential within them—the possibility of experiencing all sorts of things, discovering what they are capable of, and perhaps doing things they never imagined possible, even against the odds. I want children to understand that they don’t have to prove their worth before they begin living their lives, and I want them to be brave enough to dare greatly. They are already here, already uniquely themselves, and already carrying so much possibility. The question isn’t whether they are valuable enough. The question is—what will they do with the amazing gift of being here?

 

The more I thought about it, the more miraculous that seemed to me. Think about everything that had to happen for any one of us to exist. We began as a single cell, and somehow that eventually became a person with so many things that make us the same, yet within that sameness, each of us is one of a kind—from our fingertips to the patterns of our veins. The book begins with that idea of the incredible journey that brought us here and then moves into the idea that there is an entire little universe inside each of us. At the same time, we are part of a much larger universe—the very universe we came from.

 

And then there is the connection to the stars. I loved discovering more about supernovas and how the elements created through stellar processes are part of what makes planets and life possible. The idea that we are, in a very real sense, made of stardust is quite something. It almost sounds like something that was made up for a magical story, and yet it is very real. We aren’t inflating the message or creating a fantastical idea to make children feel special. We are simply pointing out something that is true—and I think the truth itself is pretty incredible.

 

Of course, children don’t always feel inspired or see life as miraculous. They make mistakes, they lose, they get angry, they feel sad, and they compare their lives to other people’s lives. They can look at someone else and think that person is better, smarter, more talented, or simply luckier. Grace and Theo experience those very ordinary parts of being a child throughout the story. I wanted the book to acknowledge those feelings rather than simply telling children to be positive. You can have a bad day. You can mess up. You can feel disappointed. You can wish something about yourself were different. None of those things change the fact that you are still a supernova.

 

That’s really what I wanted this book to offer: a reminder that you are already something extraordinary, even while you are still learning, growing, making mistakes, and figuring out who you are. That idea is also what led me to write the caregiver note at the end of the book. As adults, we spend so much time helping children learn how to function in the world, and those skills absolutely matter. But I think we also have to be careful not to accidentally teach children that their worth comes from how well they perform. We can encourage growth without making achievement the measure of someone’s value.

 

I think You Are a Supernova! is a very simple book with a very big idea. I hope it becomes a book that someone gives to a child because they love them. Maybe it’s a birthday gift, a bedtime story, or something a parent reaches for after a particularly hard day. Maybe it’s for the child who is frustrated because something isn’t coming easily, or the child who is comparing themselves to everyone around them, or simply a child who needs a little bit of wonder.

 

It would be such an honor to see You Are a Supernova! find its way onto bookshelves all over the world. I truly love the message behind this book, and because it came to me so unexpectedly, it feels especially meaningful to now watch it make its way out into the world. I would love your help and support in getting this message out into the universe that inspired it. If you know a child who could use this reminder—or simply want to share a little bit of wonder with someone you love—you can pick up a copy of You Are a Supernova! on Amazon. Every book shared helps this little story reach another child who may need that reminder.