A Roaring Success: Interview with Bob Shea

Your latest picture book is about a young dinosaur who triumphs over a pile of leaves, a bowl of spaghetti, and a few other everyday things—before eventually succumbing to sleepiness. You have a young son. Is this an autobiographical story?

Having a two-year-old was very inspirational. As a parent you realize that first of all, kids just never want to go to bed, and they are never exhausted. Plus, everything, like eating spaghetti, is a challenge.

We read your book to a four-year-old to see if she would understand the concept of “versus.” Not only did she get it, she asked to hear the story again the next day, which, her mom says, rarely happens. She kept saying, “Where’s the roar book?”

That’s great. That’s the reaction I’ve gotten when I’ve read it to kids. They get it right away. The story’s set up at the beginning, “Roar! I’m a dinosaur! Roar! Nothing can stop me!” And then the dinosaur takes on all these things. It’s a simple conceit. The roaring is such a big hit with kids, because you’re giving them permission to make noise and be silly.

I grew up in Stony Point, NY, right outside New York City. I had sort of a big imagination, and I was writing stories from a pretty young age.

What’s the earliest one you remember writing?

In third grade, I wrote a story called “The Bogeyman Stole My Cookies.” The title pretty much sums up the plot. The teacher let me act it out in front of the class. It opened to rave reviews.

When did you start drawing?

I didn’t start until I was in high school.

That’s a pretty late start for a future illustrator.

Typically, I’d copy an album cover. I tried to do a lot of airbrush illustration in high school and all of these things that I’ve long since gotten rid of so that no one will ever see them.

Such as?

Oh, my God. I don’t even want to tell you.

Aw, come on.

I was copying—I don’t know if you’ll know them—Yes albums.

Sure, I know that band. They were fairly big in the ’70s.

Like their album “Fragile.” I was copying all of these things inappropriately and they looked terrible—stuff like Jethro Tull.

It’s funny to think of you copying psychedelic covers, since your present-day style is so minimalist.

Graphic design history—and you’ll even notice this in Dinosaur—really is where I draw a lot of my illustration inspiration, like from the ’50s. I try to keep things interesting and moving and just popping along with minimal elements.

You and your wife, who’s also a graphic designer, work together. What’s your secret?

There are two things that we do to make it work out. We’re in separate spaces. I have a studio, and she works from home. And my assumption is that she is always correct—and she is. It’s not even like I’m giving up or anything.