How Faith and Family Stories Shaped My Book About Kindness in Crisis
On Writing My First Children's Book
By Ann Suk Wang, author of The House Before Falling Into the Sea (Dial Books, 2024).
Authors often start with the advice to "write what you know." I would add: "Write what you’re passionate about." When I begin a project, it has to start with who I am and who I hope to become. That’s exactly how my debut picture book began: The House Before Falling Into the Sea (HBFITS). It’s a story set during the Korean War, about loving your neighbors and sharing kindness in community.
It’s a story that’s been warmly received by educators and children’s book enthusiasts. Sharing our differences—our colorful backgrounds—is a thing to be celebrated, for the most part. HBFITS has been honored as a “Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selection Book,” and among other things, has received three coveted “starred reviews” from Kirkus, The Horn Book, and Booklist—all leading journals in the children’s book industry.
This September, it was featured in “Calling Caldecott” as “Caldecott-worthy” (the “Oscars” of Picture Books.) It’s all really mind-blowing. My younger self could never have fathomed that this would be beneficial: for this Korean American immigrant to press into their otherness to find authenticity.
Growing up, I was not passionate about my ethnicity. In fact, I wanted to blend in; the more “American,” the better. My parents spoke to me in Korean, and I responded in English, believing that “out with the old and in with the new” was the best way forward. I missed out on becoming more truly bilingual. I regret that now. But college marked the beginning of a shift in my thinking.
My mother’s stories were shared with me in bits and pieces over decades. I stored them away (if only in my head at first), trying to figure out what in them made me, me; and, eventually, I tried to determine what pieces of her stories could also be interesting for others to read.
As a journalist and children’s book author, I’ve discovered a profound joy in simplifying intricate topics while simultaneously making them entertaining, enlightening, or simply beautiful. With a jumbled mountain of memories in hand, I sought guidance from God, asking what I should do with them. This journey led me down a path of introspection, where I not only reflected on my family’s stories but also considered how they had shaped my faith. As the Psalmist wisely proclaims, “Search me, O God, and know my heart…” (Ps. 139:2).
Allow me to transport you back in time.
My Story of Friendship with God
Although my parents didn’t go to church, they sent me hoping that some good morals would stick. They dropped me off at the most church-looking church near our house in Glendale, CA—perhaps thinking they’d also get some free babysitting out of it? My cousin came with me, making this a weekly ritual. Thanks to my Sunday school teacher, I began a relationship with my best friend, Jesus. Over time, many others contributed to my spiritual growth. The concept of “community” was particularly instrumental in helping me grasp the essence of Christianity and Christ. I frequently recall the passage from Matthew 18:20, which states, “For where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there among them.”
During those early elementary years, I started journaling all my raw emotions. I poured my heart out—my prayers, frustrations, and joys, all found their way onto the pages of voluminous diaries, even beyond the college years. I transformed those emotions into songs, poems, and prose, conversing with God about the greatest heights, the deepest lows, and the in-betweens. Writing served as a catalyst for me to make sense of the overwhelming mishmash of feelings and thoughts. But, when clarity arrived, those “Aha!” moments felt like an adrenaline rush (and honestly, they still do). I’ve always been astounded, but not entirely surprised, by how God employs writing to work through the intricate puzzles and challenges that haunt my mind—but I digress.
Talking to God through the pages of my mess, while learning in community, eventually led me to a place of surrender. As an only child, I desperately wanted a BFF, a “best friend forever.” In time, I realized that no sibling could compare to the spiritual relationship I was offered with God—a true best friend, literally, forever. Of course, I needed both people and God. I sought out relationships that went beyond blood.
So, The House Before Falling Into the Sea is a story about loving your neighbors, showing kindness in community, going through tough times together, and faith in a God who champions all of that. True stories are the raw material I use to understand the world and my place in it. And my mother’s stories, for this book in particular, helped me understand what "kindness" and "loving your neighbor" could look like.
The Story of the Book
In HBFITS, the protagonist (based on my mom, who was seven years old when the war broke out in 1950) shares her home with displaced Koreans—refugees forced south to Busan, the last stronghold of a democratic Korea. People from all over the country, seeking freedom from authoritarianism, fled there.
I’ve often wondered what motivated my mom’s parents to help. I'll never know whether it was a sense of duty or a more selfless act—but it doesn’t matter. They took action. And to me, their actions reflected what Jesus would have done—helping those who were hurting instead of turning them away.
It’s hard not to notice the stark contrast with today’s climate of fear and division, where many resist showing love to the “other.” I get it—there are nuances to helping, and none of us can do everything. I’m far from a perfect model of selflessness. But stories like HBFITS are as much for me as they are for others—a reminder that we all need help, hope, and a community to get through hardships. The proverb reflects in Ecclesiastes 4:11, “...two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone?”
In the book, I juxtapose the Korean art of natural stone collecting, suseok, with the people who enter the house. Not only have they been molded by the natural elements of travel and war, but the protagonist, Kyung, inadvertently views the visitors as objects, strange and hardened. She begins to soften when sharing one of her treasured stones with a friend, Sunhee. Together, they toss rocks into the sea, and perhaps on some level, Kyung also wants to toss some strangers out of her home. But as she gets to know them, there’s a softening, a humanization that comes with getting to know people. This is gently addressed at the end when her mother reminds her, “Our visitors are not stones we can toss to the sea. They are people, our neighbors, to help and to love.”
Perhaps our hardened hearts can also use some softening. I know mine can. It’s easy to let cynicism and apathy seep in and rule the day. In that way, sometimes, being pushed to be uncomfortable can reveal a better version of ourselves. Maybe, discomfort can be a good thing.
The Stories That Shaped Me
Although HBFITS is written for elementary-aged children, its impact extends far beyond that age group. A friend shared the book with her parents, both in their 80s, and they were deeply moved, reminiscing about their own experiences. This book can also serve as a gentle introduction to reflective discussions with family members, relatives, and other friends, which can often be awkward or challenging to initiate.
After the illustrator, Hanna Cha, agreed to this project, she researched her own family’s history and discovered that they were among the refugees who fled to Busan. It felt like God’s divine timing brought us together for this project, allowing HBFITS to truly become our book, a shared and common project. I am reminded of Jeremiah 29:11, which says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord…”
Moments like these make me realize that faith isn’t just an intellectual concept or a feeling of positivity. It’s about the stories and relationships that shape us—the people and lives that consistently show up in our lives, whether in ordinary moments like driving my family around town or extraordinary ones like creating art that resonates with others.
Moreover, I hold that advocating for justice is an integral part of my faith—being, at different times, God’s hand, foot, or heart reaches out to the people around me. And this kind of advocacy often begins small and starts young. A child befriending a hurting classmate, an adult stepping out of their comfort zone to sacrifice resources for someone in need, someone dedicating their life to feeding the hungry—that’s advocating for justice. And all of it is commendable, especially when it comes from a genuine conviction, moving us beyond ourselves toward the lives and stories of others. Not that I always choose uncomfortable generosity. I certainly don’t. But these reminders challenge me and chip away at my selfishness.
There was a time when I was often asked, “What will you do with what God has given you?” This question felt too big, too overwhelming. Where to start? So, I began with prayer, following Paul’s words, “Never stop praying” (1 Thess. 5:17). An image of a bridge formed in my mind—a bridge for those who don’t yet know the kindness and love of God. That image of the bridge still excites me and guides my storytelling.
I can tell stories that help bring people closer to the good things God has in store for us. HBFITS is my family’s story, but it’s also God’s story—yesterday and today. And with God’s help, even a children’s picture book with fewer than 900 words can draw readers of all ages one step closer to a hope-filled life.
Every time I sit down to write, it’s this mysterious mix of past lessons, flow, discipline, and a sprinkle of “magic” or spiritual inspiration. It humbles me and grows me as a writer and Christian. Sometimes I don’t believe I can get a story to the end satisfactorily. I simply show up again and again. And when I complete a project, I’m often awestruck and relieved.
This resilience in the Korean people to go from a poor, war-torn nation to a thriving world leader in technology (Samsung, semiconductors, building,) entertainment (K-pop, K-drama,) culture (Kimchi, KBBQ) in about 50 years is remarkable. And today, I’m proud this history runs through me.
I don’t know if future projects will catch an editor’s eye or become a published book. But I press on because this is life. I’m still working out who I am while making sense of the people around me and the world I live in—through stories. This is my small contribution, living out my faith and a more genuinely evolving version of myself, one word at a time.
Ann Suk Wang, born in Korea and a graduate from UCLA (BS) and Boston University (MS) in mass communication, is a former journalist. She’s an advocate for adopting children (and dogs) and is a mentor for teen girls. When Ann’s not writing, reading or listening to podcasts, she’s most likely jazz dancing, roller skating, praying with moms, tending her butterfly garden or enjoying desserts in California with a supportive husband, two energetic sons and a beloved canine son.
Gamsahabnida !Thank you Ann! Love your story and how you are using your gifting to share it with the world! Much needed perspective especially in our country today.