Lessons from The Wild Robot: Why You Should Keep Writing When it Feels Like the End of the World

Because you are more than you were programmed to be.

This month has been the longest year.

While there has still been a lot to celebrate for me in my agent life, from the public stuff like Tiana Smith’s Mr. Nice Spy and Robin Stevenson’s Kid Musicians, to the bits I can’t quite talk about yet (let’s go already publishing contracts), it is hard not to focus on the weight pushing down on so many of us. The election, the fear, the people gearing up to be in charge who can’t stop with the terrifying rhetoric surrounding marginalized folks and you know, banning the actual books we work on.

How do you not spiral, when looking into the spiral?

Earlier this month, I sent an email to the editor of The Wild Robot by Peter Brown, Alvina Ling. I had to tell her this story. The book’s movie had just hit iTunes, so of course I scooped it up immediately, hoping it would be another book-to-film adaptation my kiddo would love.

I had no idea how much he’d love it.

After what had to have been the third or fourth viewing, he wanted to go to the park near our home. It’s your typical small city park, maybe the size of half a block, the sort of place where you can count all the trees on two hands. We walked over there, as we often do, and then he did something that completely shocked me. He shouted something new.

“I AM A WILD ROBOT!”

And ran around the park, acting out the movement of the robot in the film. Shouting out the names of the animals. This is a park in the middle of Philadelphia, so we don’t have the deer or bears or rabbits. Squirrels? Sure. But he rattled all of them off regardless.

It was more new words from him than I’d seen in, I don’t know, all year, maybe?

Why is this such a big deal? As a lot of folks who follow me know, my son is autistic and still largely nonverbal. He’s seven. Words happen now and again, but they’re not easy. Sentences are very rare.

But every now and again, he has a big break.

I’ve been thinking about the movie and books a lot. I was lucky enough to meet Peter and his editor at Book Expo America, the last one, I think, back in… maybe 2019? I’d rambled a little bit about how I was saving his books for my kiddo, who was only two at the time. I’d been slowly building a Middle Grade shelf, excited to share stories with him someday.

I don’t think I knew my kiddo was neurodiverse then. I just knew that when he was ready, I wanted to have the book for him.

There’s a quote from Roz, in The Wild Robot, where she says…

Sometimes, to survive, you must become more than you were programmed to be.

I think about that quote a lot these days. Especially having watched that movie five times now in the last three weeks, maybe. I’ve cried each time.

I’m programmed to love books and writing. I’ve been working in publishing for fifteen years now, went to college and graduate school with the plan to one day be a writer (and for a brief, misguided moment, be an actor and/or ska musician). That’s… what, twenty-three years of a (mostly) single pursuit? Of programming myself?

I’m not sure if I programmed myself to fight during all of that.

I’d grown up thinking it was best to hide things that felt “off”, like feelings or questions. You didn’t challenge authority. Hell, I was a Boy Scout. I had a very neurotypical way of thinking, which continued into adulthood, when I became a parent.

And now, again, I think of the tail-end of that quote.

Become more than you were programmed to be.

I’ve done the work to be that for my kid. To be more. I do that work every single day, even in the books I choose to work on (keep an eye out for Everything But Typical next year).

And I try to do that with my words and my writing. In every cozy story of mine, like With or Without You or You Can Go Your Own Way, there are messages about resistance. Both of those stories are about gentrification, being a person of color, wrestling with expectations, and in one of the books, life in the aftermath of COVID.

I often heard from readers, about the messages tucked away. How they meant something.

And in the coming years, we’re going to need words that mean something all the more.

We chase after words, we chase after joy, in the wake of things feeling terrible, in the wake of feeling lost like Roz did in The Wild Robot, because in the end, it is worth it.

I promise, there is a kid like mine out there, who will pick up what you’re writing and have his world changed. There’s a parent out there that will turn to that story again and again, to figure out what magic was tucked inside. There’s a whole classroom that is eager to cling to that hope you’ve written for them.

Sometimes, to survive, you must become more than you were programmed to be.

Show up. For your readers, for your publishing community, and of course, for yourself.

Now go. Write good things.

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Other quick updates?

Next month Alison Stine’s (already!) award winning novel, Dust, publishes. I hope you’ll preorder it. Also follow Alison on here at

The Village Witch

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Tawny Lara and Lisa Smith’s Sobriety Deck publishes with Clarkson Potter. I think it’ll make a real difference for a lot of people.

In leaving places like Twitter behind, I’ve been reminding folks that I’ve got that community Discord for writers in the Philadelphia region. If that’s you and you want an invite, don’t be afraid to ask.

I’m bringing my Counts as Writing account back, this time on Instagram. Join in the very silly fun.

I went all in on BlueSky, and have been using it actively. There’s also an agent starter pack, for those of you looking to follow folks in the industry.