Behind the Scenes: Creating The Lightbulb Boy

Meet the Real Clark

Let me introduce you to Clark—a boy in my class who wore glasses and had the most unusual passion I'd ever encountered. One day, he told me about his love for lightbulbs. Not just a casual interest, mind you. A proper, full-blown fascination. He explained how they work, which ones were his favourites, and then casually mentioned that he collects them. His garden is full of lightbulbs. Full of them. And here's the best bit: when the council comes to fix the street lamps, Clark collects the old lamps and bulbs they replace. I sat there listening to him, and my creative brain just lit up (pun absolutely intended). I could see it immediately—a whole story about a boy and his lightbulbs. It was too good not to write. Now, Clark isn't just about lightbulbs. In real life, he's a bit of a mischievous boy who likes to play pranks. The kind of kid who keeps you on your toes. But here's the thing: he's also genuinely lovely. Funny, with a brilliant sense of humour, and somehow despite—or maybe because of—his little troublemaking ways, a lot of the teachers have a real fondness for him. He's the sort of child who wants to help but somehow always ends up making things slightly worse. And that became the heart of the story.

Creating The Lightbulb Boy

I wanted to create a character that children could see themselves in—someone curious, creative, full of wonder, and yes, a little bit mischievous. The book reads a bit like a diary, following Clark's shenanigans and adventures. It shows how the adults around him—his parents, his teachers—have love for him but also recognise he's that cheeky boy who genuinely wants to help but accidentally creates chaos instead. It was the perfect story. I could see it so clearly.

The Late Night Sessions

So I did what any sensible person would do: I became completely obsessed with making this book. I stayed up until ridiculously late hours of the night, writing and designing. I was giving AI prompts to create the illustrations, trying to capture Clark's energy and that glowing lightbulb magic. My eyes were burning from staring at the screen, but I couldn't stop. The story was flowing, and I had to get it out.

The 6:30 AM Printing Disaster

At that time, I lived just around the corner from work. School didn't start until 8:15. But one morning, I showed up at 6:30 in the morning with a mission: print out the book myself and surprise Clark with a physical copy. It seemed like such a good idea in my sleep-deprived state. It was not a good idea. I tried to print it. The printer had other plans. The formatting went wonky. Pages came out wrong. It was a complete disaster. I failed miserably, standing there in the early morning light, surrounded by rejected printouts, wondering what I was doing with my life.

The Hermit Incident

I didn't give up, though. I tried a different approach: staying after work, using the school computer to format the book properly for printing. I was so focused, sitting there in a darkened classroom, glowing screen in front of me, completely in my own world. And that's when it happened. The headteacher came round with visitors for a tour of the school. They opened the door to find me sitting there in the dark like some sort of computer hermit. The embarrassment was real. There I was, caught mid-formatting, looking like I'd been living in that classroom. Not my finest moment.

The Digital Debut

Eventually, I had to accept defeat on the physical printing front and go with a digital copy. But when I showed it to Clark and his classmates? Their faces were worth every late night, every printing disaster, every embarrassing encounter. They loved it. Clark couldn't stop smiling. Seeing himself as the hero of a story—not just any story, but one that celebrated the quirky, wonderful thing that made him unique—that meant everything. I even showed it to the headteacher (who'd previously caught me in my hermit phase). And you know what? I think The Lightbulb Boy might have sparked something. Perhaps it's what led to us eventually creating The Magic Door as a whole school project.

The Design Process

Designing the book was genuinely a labour of love. I focused on:

• Typography: Choosing fonts that are easy for young readers but also fun and energetic, matching Clark's personality
• Layout: Creating clean, uncluttered pages that enhance the diary-like feel of the story
• Illustrations: Working with vibrant colours and AI prompts to capture that magical glow of lightbulbs and children's imagination

When Everyone Wanted Their Own Story

Here's what I didn't expect: once the students saw The Lightbulb Boy and witnessed how excited Clark and everyone got, they all wanted their own stories. Suddenly, I had a queue of children asking, "Can you write a book about me?" Some students even started giving me ideas for more Clark adventures. They'd come up to me with suggestions: "What if Clark tries to fix the school lights?" or "What if he builds a lightbulb rocket?" Their imaginations just took off. And to this day, there's one particularly creative and imaginative student who regularly asks me, "Have you finished writing a book about me yet?" Every time I see him, that's the question. It's become our running conversation, and honestly, it's one of the most flattering things that's ever happened to me as a writer. That's the magic of creating something personal—it makes everyone else want to see themselves in a story too.

The Final Product

After a couple of weeks of work—including late nights, early mornings, printing disasters, and one very awkward encounter with the headteacher—I created something I'm genuinely proud of. The Lightbulb Boy celebrates creativity, imagination, and the power of embracing what makes you different, no matter how unusual your passion might seem. It's a book about a mischievous boy who loves lightbulbs. And honestly? That's brilliant.

• Sandra Parker