Britt Sayler's The Semicolon: Punctuating the Need for Children’s Mental Health Advocacy
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Photo credit: Andrea Gray, Trio Photography
Trigger warning: This blog post discusses mental health, depression, and suicide. If it’s the right time for you, we invite you to read and engage with this story.
There’s never been more social openness about the importance of mental health than there is today. The past decade-plus has seen productive conversations around this often-stigmatized topic enter the mainstream.
But while the adults have been talking, FriesenPress author Britt Sayler points out that children’s mental health — specifically childhood depression — has received comparatively little attention. After learning about the prevalence of depression in young children, Britt was compelled to act, setting out on a journey to create a resource for the youngest among us who may be struggling.
The Semicolon is what emerged from that journey: a beautifully illustrated picture book exploring the difficult topics of loss and childhood depression with care and compassion. Tracing the emotional path of a child who has lost a parent, Britt offers beacons of hope that light up the darkness and offer encouragement to readers of all ages.
In advance of Bell’s Let’s Talk Day, we spoke with Britt to learn about what drives her on this mission, how the medium of picture books lends itself to such a serious topic, and the inspiring feedback she’s received from readers.
Thanks for speaking with us, Britt. The release of The Semicolon was years in the making, so let’s start at the beginning. Where did the idea to write this book come from?
First, getting into writing picture books was not a natural fit for me. I started writing novels at quite a young age and have been writing adult fiction for most of my life. I fell into picture books because I tend to go where the story takes me. By the time I got the idea for The Semicolon, I’d been experimenting with picture books for a couple of years. Picture books are their own special beast in terms of craft, so there was quite a learning curve with that.
The Semicolon itself was inspired by an article about mental health advocates’ semicolon tattoos [namely Amy Bleuel of Project Semicolon], who use the semicolon as a symbol of hope and resilience in anti-suicide initiatives. Having experienced my own mental health challenges and realizing how many children are going to grow up to struggle with mental health, I thought, “Wow, I want to share this beautiful symbol with kids in a picture book.”
Despite rejections from agents and publishers, you persevered and self-published The Semicolon with FriesenPress. Why is this message and this cause so important to you to see through and self-publish?
There is this persistent myth that young children cannot get depressed, despite a body of research to the contrary. That a significant (and growing) number of children in the age range of picture book readers can and are experiencing depression is alarming — and severely under-recognized. So, there is this gap between reality and our perceptions of childhood and children’s health, which I felt was important to address.
In terms of the broader social context, countless children today will grow up to experience depression. I cannot stand the idea of so many passionate, potentially transformative individuals struggling or burning out, and potentially losing hope altogether. I wanted to offer a small reprieve that kids could grow up with and come back to over time as they need it.
Finally, the semicolon symbolism is really beautiful and resonates with me. I thought it was a great idea and I wanted to share it with children in a way that was accessible so they, hopefully, could find meaning with it throughout their lives.
You mentioned that you typically write adult fiction. What are some of the differences in writing a picture book versus a novel? Does your process or approach differ at all?
Absolutely. First I’ll say that, as a format, I love picture books. They’re so compelling, they’re engaging, and they’re very accessible. One of the things I like about The Semicolon is that it can be useful for adults as well as children because it’s not intimidating. If an adult is struggling with their mental health but not ready to dive into, say, a memoir of someone else’s recovery, they might be able to start with a picture book. It’s a gentle way to nudge open doors to deeper conversations.
Approaching it as a writer, in terms of craft, picture books are deceptively simple. They are one of the hardest formats [to write], hands down, because you have very limited space — usually less than a thousand words to tell the story. The Semicolon is not even 700 words. But you still need a story arc. And each page has to tell its own story.
Then you have the interplay between the art and the writing. This is where a lot of picture book writers who don’t illustrate, or who are just starting out, struggle: they don’t leave room for the art to tell the story. When I started The Semicolon, leaving that space was really important for me, because even though I’m not an artist, I love art and wanted to have illustrations that would stay with you. Most art notes in the manuscript were vague, like, “Illustration to imply the narrator’s father has died.” I had no specific idea of what that would look like. Dorota (the illustrator) did a terrific job of interpreting the text and bringing her own vision to the story. So stepping back and leaving that space for the illustrator is so important in writing picture books, but not something you would think about for a novel, for example.
What do you enjoy about writing picture books?
I like how much you can leave not just to the artwork but also the reader’s imagination. You can use very few words and still convey a story with a lot of nuance and different layers within it. You don’t need to specify every detail. I think that’s the element that I enjoy the most.
The Semicolon is your first picture book; was there anything about writing or publishing this book that surprised you?
The aspect that probably surprised me most was layout and how intensive that process is. As a reader, you don’t always think about where the words are on the page, but that matters. I was very hands-on and wanted things a certain way, but I didn’t necessarily know what “that” was, so there was a lot of learning involved.
Layout takes a lot of work because it’s not just getting the right aesthetic in terms of font choice and placement on the page. It paces how the story is read. There should be some kind of flow to it. If you want to have a break between ideas, you can separate them on the page. You can also use layout to add some animation or a sense of movement to the words.
We’re speaking in advance of Bell Let’s Talk Day. What might you say to someone reading this who may be struggling? Or, a parent of a child who may be struggling?
With the caveat that I’m not a mental health professional, there are a couple of things that I would want to say.
The first is: there is help out there. Sometimes, it takes a couple or even several tries to find the right fit. Also, perspective is helpful — just because it may feel like you can’t possibly get better, that doesn’t mean it’s true. The process may not be smooth or effortless, but there are professionals and resources out there who are dedicated to helping you or your child.
Second: depression is not a personal failing, including as the parent if your child is depressed.
The third thing — and this goes well in the context of Bell Let's Talk Day — is that it can be hard to talk about mental health. One of my favorite illustrations in The Semicolon shows words flying everywhere around the main character because they have lost their ability to speak. With mental illness, it can be difficult to understand and identify what you’re feeling and put this into words. Children in particular often struggle to communicate their feelings because they are still building their vocabulary and self-awareness. So, there’s a responsibility on the part of adults to look for the signs of a problem and help children interpret this, because depression in children may not look the same as it does for adults.
What’s the feedback you’ve received from readers so far (and/or parents of readers)?
The feedback I’ve gotten so far has been so… “gratifying” is not even a strong enough word. It’s been so humbling and so touching.
People have sent me photos of the book with their semicolon tattoos to represent their own mental health struggles and survival. One person shared a photo on social media of the book with the medication they take to manage their mental health on a daily basis. People have written to me saying, “Thank you for writing this book. I was depressed as a child,” or, “My child struggled with depression and the doctors didn’t take it seriously [because of the misconception that children don’t get depressed].” Many people who have overcome mental health crises in their own lives seem to really get the book and have been very positive about it, which is terrific.
It’s a little bit different with children, because the book deals with a mature theme in an abstract way. I don’t expect children to get the full scope of it at first read. It’s really intended to plant a seed so deep that it might take a while to grow and reach the light. But so far, the feedback has been wonderful — especially from adults who wish they’d had something like this book when they were young.
What are you most proud of regarding this book and the writing journey you’re on?
I spent years seeking traditional representation for this book. A lot of authors can relate to the experience of being in the query trenches. It was really, really discouraging for me because I had a story that I not only passionately believed in, but that readers seemed to engage with and connect to as well. Even some literary agents who rejected me said they liked the story. It was incredibly frustrating and actually quite detrimental to my own mental health to have something I really believed in and yet keep failing over and over and over again, not fully understanding why and not being able to separate myself from the experience of failing with this book.
Self-publishing was just not a path that I had thought about. There’s a lot of stigma against self-publishing, but the quality of self-published work out there has grown by leaps and bounds in recent years. Making the decision to self-publish and owning that was so liberating for me. It was absolutely transformative because I stopped asking for other people to validate me as a writer, to give me that approval. I validated myself. Getting my book out there in the world and doing it on my terms is so much better than constantly asking, “Oh, will you please look at my writing? Will you take me on as a client?” It has let me stand on my own two feet as a writer in a way that I didn’t before. That’s really nice.
If folks reading this interview could take just one thing away from The Semicolon, what do you hope that would be?
There are so many layers in this book. I hope that people can really just take what they want or need to take from it — whatever is necessary for them. I don’t think I could pinpoint just one thing.
What’s next for Britt Sayler? Are you currently working on any projects you can tell us about?
I have a novel that I’ve been workshopping for a couple of years that I got derailed on during COVID. I’m ready to finish it and put it out there. It’s literary fiction, so obviously very different from The Semicolon.
I do have a possible follow-up in mind to The Semicolon, a companion picture book on anxiety, how to support people who struggle with anxiety. But right now, my focus is on The Semicolon and connecting the book to those who need it.
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The Semicolon available now.
Visit brittsaylerbooks.com to learn more.
Follow Britt Sayler on Instagram.
