Some writers find their voice in libraries, journaling, or creative writing programs. Mine was forged in conference rooms and Jira tickets.
Before I became a children’s book author, I spent years writing in the language of business. Documenting processes, drafting workflows, and mapping out user stories in agile development sprints. It might seem like a leap going from product backlogs and sprint goals to bedtime stories and Bigfoot metaphors. However, the truth is that those years of structured writing provided me with the perfect training ground.
Here’s how:
- Brevity with Purpose
In agile, every user story is boiled down to its essence:
As a [user], I want [goal] so that [reason].
This format taught me to write with clarity and purpose, and these skills are vital when every word counts in a children’s picture book. There’s no room for fluff. Like a user story, a picture book must move quickly, clearly, and intentionally, guiding the reader to turn the page.
- Audience Awareness
Business writing and children’s literature both require deep empathy for the reader. In one case, it’s a stakeholder who wants to understand how a system or process works, or an end user seeking to perform a specific task on your website. In the other, it’s a child who wants to understand the world—an entertaining, yet teaching moment.
Both require asking:
- Who is this for?
- What do they need?
- How do I make this easy to understand?
Whether explaining a data, code, or a character’s emotional arc, the goal is the same: speak their language.
- Structure and Flow
Process maps and user journeys are all about the flow of what happens first, then next, and why it matters. Writing a story, especially one for young readers, also hinges on this sequence. There’s a rhythm to the reveal. A cause-and-effect logic. A way to guide someone from curiosity to connection.
When writing children’s stories, I storyboard like I used to roadmap: sticky notes, flowcharts, and loops of revision. I’ve swapped tactical descriptions of a user experience (business) for emotions.
- Iteration and Feedback
The agile mindset thrives on iteration. So does good storytelling.
In business, I learned not to get attached to a draft or a particular user story or outcome. Feedback was expected, even welcomed. The same applies in children’s publishing. The first draft is rarely the final one. Test, tweak, refine. That’s true whether you’re optimizing a user flow or editing a manuscript for rhythm and heart.
- Emotional Precision
Oddly enough, one of the most transferable skills from user story writing was the practice of defining “value.” What does the user get from this? Why does it matter?
Children’s books are emotional user stories. They don’t just describe events, they also explore inner worlds. But like a product that solves a need, the best books offer emotional utility: reassurance, wonder, laughter, and connection.
Each page, every sentence, must serve the “why.”
- Identifying the Need for These Stories
Working alongside my husband, a psychiatrist, and hearing the stories of families navigating mental health challenges, I began to notice something missing: children’s books that spoke to emotional wellness in a way that felt real, relatable, and affirming.
Not clinical, nor sanitized. But honest, hopeful, and full of heart.
I’ve met kids who felt different and couldn’t quite put their finger on why. Parents who were doing their best with limited resources. Quiet children carrying big emotions. Outgoing kids are struggling to feel seen for who they really are. And honestly, children are not in charge of their feelings and cannot label or name the emotion.
And I realized I had the tools to respond.
So I started writing books for those kids who feel anxious, misunderstood, or don’t quite fit. Books that let them know:
You’re not alone.
There’s language for what you’re feeling.
There’s space for who you are.
That clarity of purpose, meeting a need, is something I learned in business. But the storytelling? That’s where the heart took over.
Final Thoughts
Now, instead of building products, I observe and create characters. Instead of business deliverables, I imagine storytime snuggles and quality time with their parents. But the discipline remains. My time in the business world didn’t just make me a more structured writer; it taught me to write for real people, with real needs, and to deliver something that works.
Whether it’s a child trying to understand how they fit in the world, their own emotions, or a parent seeking connection through a story, I approach my writing as I always have, with the user-first.
Value clear. Story strong.
