Celebrating 25 years of Stellaluna
The illustrations from the beloved children’s picture book about a lost bat raised by birds are on exhibit.
ONCE upon a time, there was a mother fruit bat who had a newborn baby she loved very much, and she named her Stellaluna.
So begins the internationally acclaimed 1993 children’s book Stellaluna.
Generations of toddlers have grown up reading the beautifully illustrated tale of the little lost bat raised by birds. But very few readers know the story behind the picture book or its nature-loving creator, Janell Cannon of Carlsbad, California.
Back in 1993, Cannon was an overworked graphic artist living in a Carlsbad garage when she put the finishing touches on her first book and sent a hopeful letter to a prospective agent. She figured that if nothing came of her query, she’d at least have a lovely collection of bat paintings for herself.
But something did come of it. San Diego’s now-defunct publishing house Harcourt Brace Jovanovich snapped up the book and turned it into a runaway bestseller.
Over the years, the book has sold millions of copies, it’s been translated into 30 languages and it’s been ranked by the US National Education Association and School Library Journal among the top 100 children’s books of all time.
“I feel stratospherically fortunate,” Cannon says in a recent interview. “To be able to have that book continue on is a miracle.”
On Aug 7, publisher Houghton Mifflin Harcourt will issue a 25th anniversary hardbound edition of Stellaluna with freshly reprinted artwork, bonus crafts, and activities.
To mark the occasion, Carlsbad is celebrating its hometown celebrity with a seven-week exhibition that opened July 1 at the city-run William D. Cannon Art Gallery. (The author has no relation to the gallery’s namesake.)
All of the book’s original hand-painted illustrations are on display in the gallery side by side with the book’s text pages, so visitors can walk clockwise around the gallery and read the entire book. There are also additional painting studies she did on bat wings and bodies.
Cannon herself will be in the gallery every Friday afternoon from 1pm to 3pm painting at an easel in a corner and greeting visitors. She’ll also take part in several community events, including a book-signing on Aug 18.
Cannon worked for the city of Carlsbad for 12 years before leaving in 1994.
She’s excited about the exhibit because Carlsbad is where Stellaluna was born and because she loves the city and its employees.
Karen McGuire, curator of exhibits at Cannon Gallery, says the public is very excited about the show. Calls have been pouring in and many impatient visitors were knocking on the glass doors during installation this past week.
“Janell’s work is stunning,” McGuire says. “It’s professional and beautiful and warm and it holds up throughout the years. That’s why a whole new generation of readers will be able to enjoy it.”
Cannon, 60, grew up in Minnesota, where her nature-loving family enjoyed nightly visits by swooping bats. She was born with the artistic gene. Her parents were artists and three of her siblings went on to careers in graphic design, architectural drafting and craftsmanship.
She started painting in Year Six, when she found a set of acrylics tucked in her Christmas stocking. She painted on any surface she could find, from glass to wood chips, and she painted portraits from pictures in the National Geographic magazine. By secondary school, she was selling commissioned paintings to her teachers.
Her mum, who had raised her children mostly alone on a clerical salary, tried to discourage her daughter’s artistic dreams and sent her to typing and accounting classes. But she couldn’t be swayed.
After finishing secondary school, Cannon and her sister caught a bus west. They worked a summer together in Yellowstone National Park, then parted ways. Her sister went to college and Cannon headed to Southern California where she struggled for years, working odd jobs and selling the occasional painting.
Entirely self-taught, Cannon gradually built a portfolio as a freelance artist and graphic designer.
In 1982, she landed a job at Carlsbad’s Georgina Cole Library, designing murals, newsletters and children’s library programmes.
Cannon decided as a young woman not to have children herself, but she always felt a vivid connection to her childhood and she was a keen and fascinated observer of children at the library.
One day in 1991, she noticed that the only three books with bat characters had been removed from circulation because they were worn out.
“I saw there was a vacancy on the shelves for books about bats so I thought maybe I could write my own,” she says.
Over the next two years, she exhaustively studied and painted bats, inspired by a National Geographic photo essay on the African epauletted fruit bat. The tiny brown creatures were both strange and beautiful, qualities she knew would appeal to both boys and girls, and she found she could paint them very well.
For her book, she did all of the paintings first, working with waxbased pencils and airbrushed acrylic paints.
Then she wrote the words, a story of tolerance inspired by a vacation in Thailand, where she experienced being the only Westerner among crowds of Thai villagers.
“I felt like I belonged there, but I was different,” she says. “There was that acknowledgment of difference and sameness. I wanted kids to take that in and walk around in the world with it.”
When Stellaluna was published, Cannon says, “it was a 180° change for me.”
She was thrilled and grateful, but also overwhelmed by having to juggle book promotion responsibilities and her full-time city job. A year later, she left her job and has focused on books and art-making ever since.
Cannon went on to publish five more books. As in Stellaluna ,she wanted to tell stories about other misunderstood creatures, like Verdi, a courteous baby python; Pinduli, a young hyena with low self-esteem; and Crickwing, a bullied cockroach.
Most were well-received except a pair of books on fictional catlike characters called Fuzzheads, which dealt with more serious societal issues. One review in The New York Times was so witheringly negative, Cannon says all she could do was laugh about it.
She still has one unpublished book, a tale told from a dog’s perspective with some comics panels. Her publisher turned it down so she’s looking to publish it herself.
These days she donates her artwork and talents to nonprofits like bat conservation groups, the Amazon Conservation Team and the local branch of the Audubon Society, America’s oldest conservation organisation. Most recently, she did illustrations for a Spanish-language book by a Colombian author about a family that fled into the jungle during the violent South American rubber boom in the late 19th century.
She does all her painting now on a computer because it’s easier on her eyes, using programs like Corel Painter, Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator.
The success of Stellaluna allowed Cannon to buy a home on half a hectare of land 20 years ago. There, she has allowed plants to grow free and has cut paths through high grass to make trails for rabbits and birds. With a game camera and a journal, she keeps meticulous records of her property’s flora and fauna.
It’s a singular life, but it’s not lonely. And though she doesn’t keep office hours, she’s busy all the time.
“The concept of being bored is alien to me,” Cannon says. “Life itself is a phenomenon. Every day is icing on the cake for me.”