Five years ago, I sat in a living room with a little friend named Levi and told him about a story I had written. At the time, it was called Nora Goes Nuts. I read the story to him from printed sheets of paper. It was one of the earliest drafts, and one thing I will never forget is how he giggled at the sound-effect words and repeated phrases, especially: “She ran as fast as a cookie could possibly run.”
By the end of the story, Levi knew every repeated word and sound effect. There was a spark in that story. I knew it. I just didn’t really believe in myself yet.
“Why Don’t You Write a Children’s Book?”
A couple of years later, I visited a friend and their newborn baby. Somewhere in the conversation, I casually mentioned the stories I had been writing during the pandemic and shared Nora Goes Nuts again. I will never forget the mom laughing hysterically. Then she asked me, “Devans, why don’t you write a children’s book? This is so good.” And I actually brushed it off. Again, I wasn’t quite ready to believe in the writer I was becoming.
Fast-forward a few years, and I met an incredible person named Joe through a Bible study group. He told me he had a friend from Jamaica who was a really good illustrator. Well, you know how that went. I connected with Brandon D. Gunning, and after 11 months of collaborating, illustrating, editing, revising, and all of those wonderful things that happen behind the scenes, Nora Escapes the Bakery arrived.
A real book.
Nora had officially escaped my stack of printed pages.
Now I Had to Get Her Out There
But I didn’t want to stop at publishing the book. I was determined to get my first children’s book into the hands of kids who might laugh the way Levi did all those years ago.
So I started reaching out. I contacted just about every news station in Baltimore, major media outlets, schools connected to the tutoring program I had been part of, hospitals, and organizations serving children. And with a little gusto, I even contacted the National Institutes of Health.
That wasn’t a random cold email. I was extremely intentional about it. In Nora Escapes the Bakery, Nora experiences one of the highest moments of her life: she flies through the sky on a kite and proudly declares that she is the first cookie who learned how to fly. But she also experiences one of her lowest moments.
She gets hurt.
For a child, and honestly for many of us, an injury or illness can completely change the way the world feels. There can be doctors, tests, therapies, exhaustion, and things happening to your body that you might not completely understand. That is difficult for anyone, especially a child.
So I began wondering whether children’s hospitals, clinical centers, and organizations supporting families through medical care might connect with Nora’s story. I reached out to several. One of the organizations that responded was The Children’s Inn at NIH.
Wait... They Said Yes?
I have to be honest. I was floored. Even after publishing this book that I loved, I still carried some nervousness and a little lack of confidence.
But The Children’s Inn worked with me to find the right date. They even began telling the children and families that an author would be visiting.
An author. Me.
Because of ongoing construction, they hadn’t hosted an author visit in a while. The Inn is expanding to create additional space for children and families receiving care. I knew this was an opportunity I couldn’t take lightly.
So naturally, my next question became: What can I do to make this FUN?
Enter the Giant Box of Cookies
I have a terrible sweet tooth. And somewhere along the way, I became inspired by those enormous pink bakery boxes you see at Crumbl.
So I created wooden cookie shapes, glued googly eyes onto them…
I gathered pom-poms, 3-D stickers, markers, pipe cleaners, glitter glue, and enough craft supplies to make my house look like a tiny art store had exploded. Then I found a cardboard box and painted it pink so it looked like a gigantic cookie box.
Yes, I committed to the cause. 😂🍪
And of course, the experience could not be complete without actual cookies. Several readers have told me that reading about Nora and Preston makes them hungry or sends them looking for something sweet afterward. So I picked up soft cookies, wrapped them up, and prepared them for the children.
Nora Arrives at the Inn
When I arrived in Bethesda, the team at The Children’s Inn helped me get everything set up. I was incredibly thankful for that.
Then the children began pouring into the space, along with parents, family members, and volunteers. And we escaped the bakery.
I shared Nora’s highs and lows. How she soared through the sky. How she fell. How she moped and moved along the beach boardwalk after her injury. And how she eventually met Preston, the bubbly macadamia cookie who offered her kindness when she had a bad day and needed it most:
“Even with a few less crumbs, you’re still a cookie.”
After the story, we talked for a little while. Then came the crafts. And those children created some BEAUTIFUL cookies. Some made more than one.
I even had the opportunity to use a little Spanish, and I do mean a little 😂, while speaking with a mom from Argentina who translated parts of the story for her daughter as I read.
Before everyone rushed off to dinner, I gave each participating child a copy of Nora Escapes the Bakery and a fresh cookie to take with them.
Even With a Few Less Crumbs
There is a moment in Nora’s adventure when she needs someone to remind her that a difficult experience does not erase who she is. I’ve had days like that. I imagine many of the children at The Inn have too.
Receiving medical care is not easy. At one point, one child shared how difficult one of her therapies had been and how little strength she sometimes had afterward. She shared this while smiling as I handed her a copy of my book. How can you not be touched by a moment like that?
It reminded me why I had reached out in the first place. I was there because sometimes a story can sit beside us for a little while. It can make us laugh. It can help us imagine. It can remind us that one bad day does NOT get the final word.
Five Years Later
And then I thought about Levi. That little boy sitting in a living room five years ago, giggling while I read an unfinished story from pieces of printer paper.
One child laughing at the silly sounds of Nora. Five years later, I was sitting in The Children’s Inn at NIH watching children and adults follow Nora through her biggest risk, her mistakes, her fall, and her journey home with a new friend.
That is what a full-circle moment looks like to me. There are times when we don’t understand what our ideas are becoming while we’re still focused on the earliest versions of them. Sometimes all we have is a little spark, a story, a laugh, or someone saying, “You should write a children’s book.” And maybe we don’t believe them yet. But that doesn’t mean the story is finished.
It truly matters that we use what has been given to us. How we take the messiness of life and create something from it. How we use our talents to create experiences that offer someone else a little joy, comfort, laughter, or love.
When I left The Children’s Inn that afternoon, I said to myself, “The people who work and volunteer there love those kids.” You could feel it. And for a little while, I was invited into that love too. Me and Nora together.
And now the adventure continues. This weekend, I’m headed to Harrisonburg, Virginia, for another book festival. I don’t know exactly what little joys will come from that experience yet, but five years ago, I didn’t know where those printed pages would take me either.
So I think I’ll keep following the crumbs. 💜🍪📚