In this guest blog, author Yangsook Choi shares with us about her new children's book, A Letter To My Best Friend and her heartening story of fostering a child with dysgraphia who inspired one of the main characters.
A LETTER TO MY BEST FRIEND follows Jihun, a quiet immigrant boy with little English writing skills, and Piper, a perky girl with dysgraphia. Both struggle to write "right." When given a class assignment to write a letter, they have no choice but to face their fears and painstakingly craft messages, one letter at a time, in their own unique ways. The outcome proves remarkable, unexpectedly paving the way for new friendships.
At its core, the story is about acceptance and belonging formed through genuine connections that transcend learning differences. It speaks to all children facing difficult hurdles at school as they struggle to be understood and connect with others.
I’m a former reluctant writer myself who’s now passionate about creating stories for children. But I still find the writing process stressful—not only in English but even in my native Korean. To this day, writing feels like wearing a helmet that prickles my brain with thousands of tiny needles. This personal experience made it easy for me to create the main character, Jihun. Piper, however, is equally important in my mind. While the book doesn't explicitly mention dysgraphia, Piper's letter in the story reveals her writing fears, hidden beneath her zestful exterior.
The real-life inspiration for Piper was an 11-year-old orphan I fostered for a year during the pandemic. She had endured unimaginable hardships in her early years. Along with various special needs, she had dysgraphia, often writing letters backward. While text-based learning posed obstacles to her, I recognized her exceptional aptitude for auditory learning. Her greatest difficulty, however, was forming friendships. She struggled to connect her emotions with her thoughts, making it challenging to bond with classmates in her new school. Unable to communicate effectively, her desire for connection often manifested as emotionally volatile behavior.
To help her, we would sit together and doodle our emotions and thoughts back and forth. I broke down the process with basic images, step by step, ensuring she could easily follow along. For example, I’d sketch a cartoon volcano to represent anger or rain clouds for sadness. Little by little, this process inspired her to illustrate her feelings and eventually articulate them in writing.
During the Covid lockdown, I encouraged her to write handwritten letters and express herself to classmates she yearned to connect with. Despite the difficulty writing posed for her, she didn't shy away from this task; it was an act of survival that made her vulnerable enough to craft letter after letter with painstaking effort. Through that process, I saw another facet of her strength—she poured her heart into each envelope, proving that truly impactful writing comes from the heart.
Her imperfect "survival letters" made an impact, fostering new friendships. By year's end, she had made two good friends. This experience inspired me to uplift readers who struggle with writing. My hope is that readers will see their own strength and uniqueness within these pages and dive into the boundless ocean of self-expression. Their personal story can become the most significant story for the most crucial audience—themselves.