Lantern questions for the creative process
When writing a manuscript or sketching out a new illustration, it can be easy to focus on answering questions like, what happens next in the story? What expression makes sense for this character in this scene? Are all the threads tied up by the end? Did I effectively show every plot beat?
It’s important to ask these process-based questions as you create! But as you develop a story or piece of artwork, there are also sets of more intangible, yet very worthwhile, questions to pose yourself in order to move beyond mechanics of craft toward the heart of what you’re creating.
I've noticed that the most compelling stories often come from creators who have clarity about their intentions. Asking the right self-directed questions can transform your work, clarify your intentions, and sharpen the focus of the final product. They can be the first invisible strings that connect your creative decisions, moving ever-closer to powerful work that resonates in precisely the ways you hope it will.
Lantern Questions to Illuminate the Developmental Path
For Connection:
Who exactly am I creating this for? (Not simply "children ages 8-12" but what kind of child, with what interests and needs? This isn’t meant to be restrictive—but instead, instructive).
What emotional truth do I want readers to recognize in themselves?
What conversation do I hope this work starts: between reader and text, between readers, or between readers and the wider world?
For Craft:
What single feeling do I want readers to carry away from this piece?
If my reader remembers just one image or moment, which should it be?
What's the invisible thread binding all elements of this story together?
What am I saying that hasn't been said before, or hasn't been said before in this way?
For Courage:
What scares me about telling this story, and should that fear be heeded or challenged?
What part of myself am I putting on the page that I haven't before?
Am I writing toward comfort or toward truth?
For Completion:
What will readers know by the end that they didn't know at the beginning?
How do I want readers to be changed, however slightly, by this experience?
What would make me feel this work is complete, regardless of external validation?
The Question Behind the Story
I'm reminded of something Kate DiCamillo once shared about her writing process. For each book, she discovers a question she's trying to answer—not for her readers, but for herself. Because of Winn-Dixie emerged from wondering about loneliness and connection. The Tale of Despereaux explored the nature of forgiveness.
These fundamental questions aren't always evident to readers, but they provide the gravitational center that gives the story its emotional coherence—it’s through line.
From Asking to Answering
The beauty of these questions isn't in having full answers immediately. Rather, they serve as companions throughout your creative journey, helping you make thousands of small decisions with greater intentionality.
When you're deciding between two possible endings, returning to "what do I want readers to feel?" can illuminate which choice better serves your deeper purpose. When you're uncertain about including a specific scene, asking "what do I want readers to know?" helps clarify whether that information is essential.
As a creative exercise, I invite you to select one work-in-progress (or an idea for something new) and spend fifteen minutes with these questions:
What question am I trying to answer for myself through this work?
What feeling do I most want to evoke?
What do I want readers to understand by the end?
What's one thing I want readers to wonder about after they've finished?
Write your answers somewhere visible as you work. Notice how they might shift your creative decisions, large and small.
Are there other questions that guide your creative work? Do they change project to project? Have you discovered any surprising questions emerge once the process has begun? Let me know!
Glimmers to share
Independent Bookstore Day was April 26th, and I love how this day serves as a reminder that a bookstore is more than a retail space—it’s a living, breathing part of a community’s ecosystem. Each indie shop is its own little cathedral of taste and tenderness, curated by people who believe in stories as lifelines and local connection as powerful act.
I took part in the Brooklyn Bookstore Crawl, which meant a week of walking, driving, and subway-ing across Brooklyn to visit bookstores of all sorts: some comforting favorites, some familiar standbys, and some brand new-to-me shops.
By the end of the week, I’d visited 18/26 of the bookstores—not bad! Though a few of these, I visited more than once (or twice or thrice) during the week.
I picked up so many good stories, I expanded my sticker collection, I took photos of books written by friends and CAT Agency creators, and I collected memories and moments from each bookstore that will stay with me like fireflies on summer nights.