THE CLEVER SEED, Spring Edition, 2025
Welcome to the third edition of THE CLEVER SEED, a quarterly newsletter where I explore inspiration and creativity in everyday life. As a writer and illustrator of children’s books and former design researcher—I’m fascinated by why humans tell stories and what makes creative minds tick.
For this edition, I’d like to share my experience embarking on a book tour early this year during a time of great uncertainty.
“You must do something to make the world more beautiful.” - Barbara Cooney, from MISS RUMPHIUS
At the start of the year, I (perhaps like many of you), was grappling with a foreboding sense of the world falling to pieces. I was exhausted, struggling to find meaning in everyday things. Everything I’d valued about civic life in my country felt at a precipice, and I could not help but wonder what elements of our own lives might soon evaporate- education, health care, safety. An ugliness reared its head. Of course now, only a few months into this new administration it is clear that everything is on a precipice as we see America’s institutions crumble before our eyes.
Amidst all of this, people around me (neighbors, friends, parents in our school community), seemed to fall on two sides of a fence. On one side, some blocked out feelings of anxiety or despair in a sort of ‘pandemic-like’ PTSD response, returning to nature and retreating. Others suffered a sort of existential angst- questioning their own meaning and self-worth in a society that has shifted- and may no longer exist. After all, what is the point of showing up to work if work no longer has meaning? In the tech-saturated world of Silicon Valley, this existential crisis is strongly felt but, in my immediate circle, rarely discussed. Do we really need robots and AI to guide our humanity? Do we really want to devise more ways to suck people into our screens? What do we as humans, really need?
As a children’s book author and illustrator, I fell somewhere in between. I took long walks, retreating into the beauty of nature to calm my inner turmoil. I remembered doing the same walks in early 2020, right after my daughter was born. I would hold onto her soft, tiny hand and carry her past blooming pines and flora, wondering why on earth did I bring her into a world full of so much uncertainly and pain? All around me, native flowers blossomed at the start of spring- wild, sculptural plants with colors I never experienced growing up in Appalachia. Each tree or plant I passed marked a strange, hyperpersonal passage of time.
As I was about to embark on my book tour, I asked myself, what do I really want to say, right now? Given the opportunity to speak to hundreds of children and families, what can I say that will actually make a difference?
SOY SAUCE! is an illustrated journey about the making of soy sauce from three cultural perspectives- Korean, Chinese, and Japanese. The book itself centers around three children- Haru, Luan, and Yoo-mi, all who make soy sauce in their family’s traditional way. It is a charming look into the world of soy sauce’s history and culture, made for foodie children and parents alike. It is the first children’s picture book on this topic ever published in the United States, by Hachette Book Group.
But I didn’t want to just talk about the book to kids. I wanted to have a conversation about culture and identity in our world today, and talk about what SOY SAUCE! meant to me.
In sharing the book to kids, I opened up who I am, and the role soy sauce played in my own childhood: how it was part of my family memories (both the good and the bad), and how it ultimately shaped my cultural identity. I got to be a human, talking to other humans about how we are different, but at the same time, intimately connected.
Putting my personal story and vulnerability out there led to some beautiful things. I received warm hugs from kids, who resonated with my story growing up and feeling out of place in a mixed culture. I shared meaningful moments with dedicated librarians who show up rain or shine for their kids despite increased public school budget cuts. At two separate events, two different long-lost childhood friends surprised me in the audience making the fabric of my known universe feel more intertwined. I received countless handmade cards, drawings, and paintings by young hands inspired by soy sauce.
As a writer and illustrator, I might not be able to solve pressing problems in the world, but I can help people imagine new things. I can weave connections between seemingly disparate elements, and rebuild what feels fractured. And I can definitely double down on my dedication to making the world a kinder, more empathetic place for children to grow up in, and encourage them to be true to themselves. In the face of our unknown future, I can try to make the world more beautiful.
This newsletter is dedicated to my friend, Bo Lu.
I love this! I must go do something to make the world more beautiful now...
Beautiful reflections about uncertainty and beauty, Laura!