Chirri & Chirra. A Boy and a Jaguar. The Girl and the Wolf. Harold and the Purple Crayon. When it comes to making the perfect picture-book pairing, authors are limited only by the scope of their imaginations. From the mind of internationally acclaimed author/illustrator Beatrice Alemagna comes the next essential duo in children’s literature: a child and their scab.

Pepper & Me (Hippo Park/Astra Books for Young Readers, Jan. 16) is the unforgettable tale of the bond between a red-haired child and the ensuing scab that forms after a frightful fall. At first, the child is not a fan of the “hideous” red-brown scab, whose presence persists through summer. But Pepper, as the child will come to call it, becomes a kind of commiserative companion whose eventual loss is keenly felt.

“Alemagna deftly captures feelings of loss over something inconsequential to adults but of outsized importance to a child,” writes our critic in an admiring review of Pepper & Me. “Off-kilter compositions create an uneasiness that offsets the sweet childlike scenes, allowing for complicated emotional responses. A uniquely moving story about an unlikely subject.”

The book began with a bang, says Alemagna, who corresponded with Kirkus via email: “I was playing ball with my two girls and fell down on the ground!” writes the Italian-born author, who lives with her daughters near Paris. “A very strong memory from my childhood flooded back. We can never hide from inspiration!”

Alemagna is the author or illustrator of more than 40 remarkable books for young readers around the world. The subjects and subplots of these tales include a girl born as clear as a windowpane, a mysterious man from a seaweed forest, a questing young lion in Paris, and various ephemera. Her work has won major awards in France, Italy, Germany, England, and Sweden. Stateside honors include the Mildred L. Batchelder Award for The Wonderful Fluffy Little Squishy and a gold medal from the Society of Illustrators for On a Magical Do-Nothing Day.

A self-taught artist, she was inspired to become a “painter and writer of novels” at age 8—“whatever the cost.” She creates all her illustrations by hand, never on the computer. Her emotionally evocative signature style features layers of texture and high-contrast colors. She has said that the most important part of a project is to find “something strange, something a little bit weird or surprising. It’s important for me to discover [something new] every time.”

The moment early on in Pepper & Me, when the child trips on a cobblestone and is injured—I have had many such moments. (And many scabs, as a result.) Did you draw on the memories of any specific childhood injuries to make this book?

I didn’t really re-create one specific moment from my own childhood, no. The fall I wanted to represent is a symbolic one for me. It contains all the falls I took: while jumping rope; running on the playground and slipping; flying off a high swing; and all of the unfortunate landings from my bicycle. I remember that for me, falling felt like fate was always playing a joke on me. It made me feel all of my childhood fragility and clumsiness. I cried all the time! But more from anger than pain.

In that scene, the fear of the fall is palpable. And in a scene that follows, where the father dresses the child’s wound, I feel the woe of being injured but also the relief of being tended to. What I am getting at is: Reading this book is very emotional (wonderfully so). What role does emotion play in your creative process? Are you conjuring the emotions you’re trying to convey while you’re making your art? 

Yes, for sure. Emotions play a fundamental role in my work, both transporting and enriching it. Parts of me from my childhood still feel alive and remain vivid in my memories. These parts of me are present in the stories I tell and what I show. I experience and relive them as I work. Sometimes you can see me making faces as I draw, or even crying, while I’m at my work table.

I love the words as much as the images. (My favorite line: “It looked like a big hamburger.”) What came first, the images or the words?

Generally, it comes in a flash and an idea will stun me. I might begin to sweat or my heartbeat will speed up. Then the text will follow immediately: a text that I work and rework dozens or even a hundred times. What is fundamental for me is extreme simplicity, but it must never be banal or simplistic. In my books, every word is weighed and carefully selected for its role. If it’s just used to “look pretty,” it will most likely get deleted. Next come the images. Born in the form of sketches in a large sketchbook, they eventually transform into the final [artwork]. But [the images will] also suggest other ideas for the text. Then the words change again. By the end, images and words move forward together, like in a harmonious waltz. 

How did you create the artwork for Pepper & Me? What tools did you use?

I wanted to make the images very simple and almost childlike in technique. I wanted [this technique] to be seen immediately and to be completely evident, with strong, simple lines. That’s why there’s no painting or collage in Pepper & Me. Everything is bare: simple colored pencil and lines that sometimes disappear, almost like with memories, which are never complete and leave empty areas in our heads.You use many gorgeous grays throughout the book, and many exciting bright colors, too. How did you develop this particular color scheme? 

For me, the use of color comes naturally. I really like to combine a dull or gray palette with the vibrant strength of neon colors. In my opinion, this is how children see life: with a lot of contrasts. This is because they’re still so young and, I would say, “naked” in how they see and understand life.

What does the place where you make your art look like? Where is it located? 

I work in a studio in the attic of a big house at the edge of a garden at the Chatêau of Fontainebleau, just an hour south of Paris. It’s a magical place, full of objects and images that inspire me, and with a window that my daughters and I have named the “rainbow window,” because we see them—immense rainbows—when we’re there. 

You write on your website that your childhood heroes included Pippi Longstocking, Marcovaldo, Karlsson-on-the-Roof, and Meffi. What qualities did you admire in these characters? 

Their incredible freedom to be themselves, no matter what—free to do stupid things and evolve, [along] with all of their faults.

What advice would you give a young person who wants to become a picture-book artist?

I think you have to observe life. Be there to listen to it. Study it carefully and have a deep desire to restore it with poetry and sincerity. 

Editor at large Megan Labrise is the host of the Fully Booked podcast.