Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with us about Grumpy Gnome! This heartwarming tale of a cantankerous 433-year-old gnome being dragged out of retirement by persistent ducks has captured our hearts. The beautiful illustrations by Alejandro Segura Barón bring your story to life in such a magical way, and there’s so much depth beneath the cozy, humorous surface. We’re excited to learn more about the journey behind this wonderful book.
TBE: Let’s start with that wonderfully specific detail—the gnome is 433 years old! I have to know: how did you land on that exact age? And tell us, was it challenging to write a character who’s both ancient and incredibly cranky, almost like a toddler refusing to help?
Peter Wiholm: Ha ha, yes – I guess that is a very specific age. But I had to pick a number, right? It would have been too coincidental and unbelievable if he had been an even 300 or 400 years old. The “33” part might have been a subconscious reference to my younger days when I remember thinking that I should have my life on track by age 33. It was basically 30 plus a three year grace period that I figured I deserved. Little did I know that at 49 I still would not have things figured out. But now I have a book published! So that’s something. As for the ancient/cranky combination I think it makes perfect sense. Just think of all the things that annoy you right now. Can you imagine having a few more centuries to add to that list? It’s amazing that the gnome doesn’t just pop in ear plugs and ignores the ducks when they start quacking. But I guess that would have made the book really short.
TBE: I absolutely love the ducks! Ethel, Gary, Brenda, Carlos, and Sven are so persistent, constantly quacking “House Gnome! House Gnome!” until he finally caves. They’re hilarious but also essential to the story. Where did this gaggle of nosy ducks come from? Do you have experience with particularly pushy birds in Vancouver?
Peter Wiholm: Oh, there are plenty of birds in Vancouver that couldn’t care less about our feelings. The crows even refuse to migrate just so they can stay and taunt us throughout the cold season. Ducks are loud but also goofy and daft in a way that makes it hard to get mad at them, even when they poop all over the place. So I think that’s why they’re the perfect neighbours for the gnome. They can push all his buttons but still somehow get away with it.
TBE: There’s such a bittersweet moment when the gnome reflects on why he left the farm—people stopped believing in gnomes, and inventions replaced “honest work.” Reading this in 2025, it feels remarkably relevant. Were you thinking about our relationship with technology and tradition when you wrote this, or did that theme emerge naturally?
Peter Wiholm: I do think it’s something that is on a lot of people’s minds right now and I’m happy if it resonates for that reason, but I didn’t include it to make any kind of statement. Message-driven books are all fine and good, but I’ve never been drawn to those types of stories.
I just want to give each character their own perspective and then run with that. The gnome blames modernization for all that ails him. Do I personally think that’s fair? Not necessarily. But can I empathize with feeling left in the dust by out-of-control technological innovation where the creators only ask themselves “how” and never “why”? Oh, for sure! The important thing is that the gnome’s attitude makes sense to us as readers given who he is and what he’s been through. It has to ring true, otherwise the reader – even a very young one – will tune out.
TBE: The father in your story really struck me—he’s a delivery driver trying so hard to give his daughter a better life, apologizing that he can’t afford to buy her toys. That’s not typical fairy tale territory. What made you want to ground this magical story in such real, economic struggles? How do you think that changes the story for young readers?
Peter Wiholm: I hope it makes it more relatable. We often forget that kids live in the real world too, and all the complicated human relationships that come with it. Tons of kids deal with the consequences of separated parents or food insecurity or a Dad or Mom who sometimes falls short. If we can acknowledge that and weave a fantastical story around it then I think it will be easier for those kids to go along for the ride. And the kids who have perfect lives and perfect homes and perfect families? Well, I’m not too concerned about them since they don’t actually exist.
TBE: Okay, I laughed out loud when the gnome sees the inflatable Santa and calls it a “crazy, bearded clown in fuzzy, red pyjamas”! And he thinks a phone is a cookie that needs cooling! How much fun did you have coming up with all these misunderstandings? Did you make a list of modern things that would completely baffle someone from the 1800s?
Peter Wiholm: Well the cell phone was given since we are all more or less surgically attached to them these days. The Christmas stuff was less given, but the story was set at winter time and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity of having the gnome confront a character that basically looks like a gaudy version of himself. Even the truck would be new to the gnome since they had not yet come into common usage when he left the farm over a hundred years ago. So that was another comedy cow ready to be milked.
TBE: The relationship between the father and daughter is so tender, especially when she tells him, “When something magical happens, we should just be very grateful” while he’s still trying to rationalize everything. That line gave me goosebumps. Can you walk us through how you developed their different perspectives on belief and magic?
Peter Wiholm: I think adults always tend to rationalize things, especially when in their parental role. Maybe because they’ve been taught that is the way a responsible parent should act. Or maybe it’s because they’re so used to explaining to their kids that the reasons there are no monsters under the bed is that there are no monsters, period. But at the same time they get on YouTube and watch conspiracy videos about alien sightings or ghostly apparitions.
So there’s still room for the possibility of the unknown in their minds, and that creates an interesting internal struggle. Kids are more straightforward. Santa and the Easter Bunny? Of course! Gnomes and trolls? Sure, why not? The world is full of amazing possibilities. so let’s not rule anything out! Maybe there is a lesson in there for all us oldies with minds full of clutter and memories full of disappointments.
TBE: Working with Alejandro Segura Barón on the illustrations must have been an incredible experience. When you first saw his artwork, were there any surprises? Any scenes where you thought, “Yes! That’s even better than I imagined!”
Peter Wiholm: Oh, there were plenty of moments when I was totally awestruck by Alejandro’s work! It shouldn’t be legal to be so talented, because it’s not fair to the rest of us. He just intuitively gets things, and the channel between his brain and the hand he uses for drawing is a clean, straight highway, not a crooked overgrown path as it is for us mere mortals.
Most of all though I was happy that our communication was so smooth, and that the respect we had for each other’s work was so profound. I would send him pretty extensive instructions for each page, detailing where I envisioned everything would go, what colours and expressions I was looking for, what depth and perspective were needed etc. He would then create sketches that were often vastly better than most professional illustrators’ finished work. He would come up with details and nuances that just made me go “YES!”. Then I would suggest some changes, and we’d go back and forth like that through the various stages of the process.
In the end we were both really pleased with the results because we had been pulling in the same direction all along. That’s not always given when it comes to creative collaborations, but it definitely happened here.
TBE: The gnome is such a delightful contradictory character—constantly grumbling “I suppose I could stay a little bit longer” while secretly getting more invested in this family. We all know someone like that! What is it about reluctant heroes that appeals to you as a storyteller?
Peter Wiholm: I guess I just love that dynamic between the crusty shell and the warm heart underneath! People who are like that often have their internal struggle on full display and it’s so obvious to all the rest of us what is happening even though the person in question thinks they’re being very discreet about it. That makes it really funny, and super endearing at the same time. We all love seeing each other’s vulnerabilities because they’re humanizing and relatable. At the same time we’re all trying to hide our own vulnerabilities and pretend like we’re so well-balanced. Only humans could come up with such a delightfully dysfunctional social system.
TBE: I love how subtle the ending is. The girl finds the wooden figure in the snow, and that’s enough for her to know she got “the best gift.” You could have had the gnome appear or left a note, but you didn’t. Was it tempting to make the magic more explicit, or did you always know you wanted that quiet, confident ending?
Peter Wiholm: I was sure from the start that I didn’t want the gnome to ever be seen by the humans, or for him to communicate directly or explicitly with them. Not only is that in keeping with Scandinavian folklore where there’s always a separation between the humans and the mystical world, but I also thought it would have broken the sense of wonder and made all the secrecy that came before the end feel redundant if the gnome and the people suddenly came face to face.
But you’re right, it was a challenge to set up an ending as subtle as this one. Not only did I have to establish the wooden figure on several pages earlier in the story (including when he’s carving it on the very first page) and show clearly how he dropped it in the snow, but I also had to establish that the girl already believed in gnomes and therefore would have drawn the right conclusion when she found the figure.
I tried to do that by introducing the book “Trolls and Gnomes” in her bedroom, and having her speak about it with her dad in the car. Hopefully it was all both clear enough and subtle enough in the end. Regardless, I think we were all happy to see the gnome finally smiling on the very last page! After all that grumpiness we needed a joyous payoff.
TBE: You’ve worked in so many different mediums—screenplays, short films, documentaries, music videos. Now picture books! What surprised you most about writing for this format? Were there storytelling tricks you had to unlearn, or new ones you discovered?
Peter Wiholm: That is such a good question. It’s definitely true that each medium has its own tools and possibilities and limitations. If I were to compare it to other projects I’ve done I’d say that writing a picture book was kind of like writing the storyboard for a short film but with much fewer “shots” to work with. Each page had to represent so much more content than a storyboard panel does and this made it important to pick the exact right image and to pack it with enough detail and “story” that it felt like a sufficient match for the chunk of text that went with it.
Also, there was a finite number of pages at my disposal. Normally 32 is the magic number. That’s how many pages 95% of all picture books have. It’s divisible by 8 for printing reasons and it’s usually enough to tell a full story. However I just couldn’t squeeze this story in on 32 pages so I went with 40 pages which is the next number that is divisible by 8. If I could have had 42 pages instead of 40 there are certain compromises I wouldn’t have had to make, but oh well – such is life.
TBE: I noticed on the copyright page it says “This book was 100% human made. No artificial intelligence (AI) was used.” That’s a powerful statement, especially right now. What made you want to include that message, and what do you hope it signals to readers and other creators?
Peter Wiholm: I’m glad you noticed that statement! It’s very important to me that people understand that this book was not the product of some lazy jerk feeding prompts into a computer but rather a writer and an illustrator working hard to craft and polish their work in order to tell the story as well as possible. Even though there isn’t a ton of text in the book the writing process took quite a while.
In fact, the first draft was written in verse with line 1 rhyming with line 3 and line 2 rhyming with line 4. I eventually abandoned that version since I thought it made the text too opaque and gimmicky. And once I had written the prose version it took several passes before I had trimmed away all the unnecessary fat and been left with a more lean and precise text. The illustrations took around 9 months to complete and that was not the only way in which the process felt like gestating and finally birthing a baby. It was a labour of love, but still very much labour.
I sincerely hope that people can see the value in that. There is something unique and special about human creative output and no matter how refined the AIs get they’re never going to be able to fully replicate the subtleties of it. Either way it’s important that we keep flexing our brain muscles. If we leave everything to Mr Robot our minds will quickly atrophy and be rendered useless.
TBE: Your dedication to Evelina—”Mitt största hjärta och varmaste solsken” (my biggest heart and warmest sunshine)—is so beautiful. As a father yourself, how much of your relationship with your daughter found its way into the story? Did she inspire any particular moments between the dad and his “pumpkin”?
Peter Wiholm: My daughter is my most precious treasure! She makes everything fun and happy and joyous and worthwhile. Without her the incentive to write a picture book would have been gone, and she even contributed the hand-written text for the sign on the final page of the book (she is super proud of that and points it out to anyone who will listen). I wouldn’t say that the father-daughter dynamic in the book resembles our own though. I know that a lot of writers basically write about their own experiences even when it’s supposedly fiction, and that writing classes always teach you to “write about what you know”. That’s all valid and fine but it’s always felt foreign to me.
In my opinion, it’s the ability to imagine and conjure up new worlds and characters that are different from yourself that makes storytelling so wonderful and interesting. Otherwise it just feels like navel-gazing. Still, without my daughter I’m sure that this picture book would never have been written. She is a beacon of light who constantly inspires me to get my butt off the couch and into the writer’s chair.
