t’s probably no surprise that my first book was about a migratory bird (The Christmas Stork). I’ve crossed back and forth over the Atlantic ocean so many times, that I don’t count anymore. So much of one’s self goes into writing and illustrating: things remembered or forgotten. It is a personal journey, and here is how mine has been so far:

Born in the U.S. to American parents with French Canadian ancestors, I spent a lot of time trying to get people to pronounce my French name the right way (Jeanne Belanger). Ironically, in Paris where I live with my French husband and two sons, I sometimes have to insist that people pronounce my name the French way.

I was raised in Michigan and as a child I loved the changing seasons and their rituals: swimming and lakeside picnics, spring lilacs, and painted eggs, the fire of fall colors and back-to-school, Christmas trees and ice skating. I hoped that I would not turn into one of those grown-ups who hated snow.

My brothers and sister used to tease me for sitting and staring out of windows. I was always daydreaming. I dreamed of having a bay window with a seat to read on or to crawl into a Jessie Willcox Smith illustration. I wanted red hair like the heroines in the books I read. I imagined magic places and treasure boxes, flying with birds and strolling on castle grounds. My own life paled by comparison to my dreams, fueled by books. But in the real world I did do interesting things and see magic places. My mother took me to art museums, gardens and the Cranbrook Academy of Art, which I loved. My father worked as a materials engineer at Chrysler and brought home fabrics, modeling materials and magazines. I hoarded them, cut them up and created art work, school projects, doll houses and clothes.

Later, I found my wings and traveled to Europe and North Africa. I studied Fine Art and Textile Design at the University of Michigan and at the Ecole des Arts Décoratifs in Paris, then designed colors and materials for cars, Jeeps and buses in the U.S. for American Motors Corporation and in France for Renault. One of the fabrics I designed can still be seen on the Paris city buses.

After my automotive career, I did freelance illustrating and designing of Advent calendars, CD covers, posters and periodicals. One day when my sons were very young, I came across a handmade book I made when I was 12. It is an illustration of the poem, “Travel” from a favorite childhood book: Robert Louis Stevenson’s, A Child’s Garden of Verses. And then I started dreaming again. I dreamed of and worked at creating my own books that would be published and that would open windows to new worlds. And so each time I sit at my drawing board, the journey begins. Again.