Randy Ribay is the author of severalYA novels including Patron Saints of Nothing and Everything We Never Had. He’s a two-time National Book Award nominee, a co-winner of the Michael L. Printz Medal, and a recipient of the Asian/Pacific Award for Litera­ture. Zeke Peña is the Caldecott Honor–winning author-illustrator of Sundust and the illustrator of Isabel Quintero’s My Papi Has a Motorcycle, for which he received Ezra Jack Keats and Pura Belpré Honors for illustration. We asked Ribay and Peña to discuss their new picture book, Hold, a celebration of the father-child bond and remembering what’s important—even when we’re in a rush.

Randy Ribay: Zeke! As I’ve told you before, My Papi Has a Motorcycle was one of the books my son and I read over and over again, so it was amazing to have you as the illustrator for Hold.

What makes you say yes to taking on any project? And what made you say yes to this project, specifically?

Zeke Peña: Randy! To be on a family’s bookshelf and in the rotation is everything, so thanks for sharing our book with your little person. Patron Saints of Nothing really grabbed me and gave me space to reminisce about my younger self. Your book made me cry, so I was like, “That guy... yeah I gotta work with that guy.” Thanks for trusting me with Hold, which is such a special story.

When I consider a project, I have one test and it’s a vibe test. If I read something and images come into my mind, then I know I have something to offer because it resonates with me. If not, I’m probably not the right person for it. Your manuscript for Hold gave me all the mental images and it made me laugh. So, I said yes because I am a new father and your story gave me the space to put all the joy and worry somewhere.

A similar question, how do you decide what story is the one to tell right now? And was there a particular moment when the story idea clicked for you, or was it many moments during your experience as a parent?

Ribay: For me, it comes down to ideas that stick. Just like in the story, one day my son suddenly understood what the word “hold” meant, and over the course of the next few weeks he began asking to hold everything he loved, including intangible things. One of those times, I thought, “There’s a story here.”

As a writer, that kind of thought occurs to me frequently. Most of the time, though, I completely forget about it. If my mind keeps going back to the idea—like it did with this one—then I trust my subconscious is telling me there’s something worth exploring more deeply. After I had that idea, I then spent several months thinking about how it might work as a picture book.

Peña: I feel like so much of the writing and storytelling process has to do with listening. A common question I get is, ”Do the words or images come first?” And I always say, “The answer is yes.” This book was unique for me because the words on the page are sparse, but what you provided in the manuscript was some excellent art direction and scene descriptions. You provided such a strong visual foundation for me and I feel like I just decided where the camera was and tried to blend that a little bit with my own experience as a dad.

Given that you work on the story in your head for a while, what is it like for you having those scenes in there and how was it reflecting on your new role as a parent?

Ribay: The kid’s story came easily, but it took me a bit to figure out the dad’s angle. Eventually, I realized it had to be a journey of setting aside the pressure to get out the door on time so he could lean into the joy of the moment. That’s definitely something that parenting taught/continues to teach me. There are so many times where it feels like we absolutely have to do the thing—but kids don’t have that sense of obligation yet. In my own parenting, I’ve realized how important it is to let my son stop and smell the flowers or chase the butterfly sometimes. Does that resonate with your experience as a father?

Peña: I have a hard time stressing about doing the thing, so this resonates a lot for me. During the first year of parenting, everything felt really big and important, so I put a lot of pressure on myself to make sure it went well. But as you mentioned, our little people don’t have that sense of obligation. Being a dad has really encouraged me—sometimes unwillingly—to grow in areas like patience. The opening scene of the book where they are trying to get out the door captures the sentiment perfectly: scrambling to pack everything but not being able to find anything, and then a very unexpected distraction. We get older and forget about the joy of chasing a butterfly or throwing some rocks in a creek. The story you’ve written in Hold helps us see there is another choice in a special moment that we might have otherwise missed.

I have one last question for you: Parents have to hold extra things like broken toys, soggy unwanted snacks, etc. Mine is stale veggie straws in my pocket or dried up cereal stuck to my sock. What is the most common thing you find randomly around the house or in your pocket?

Ribay: Thankfully, nothing as gross as yours. My son’s really into stuffies lately, so we have approximately one million of them. They take up 90% of his bed and are often scattered throughout our house. Whenever we go out, he insists on bringing a few, which I often end up carrying or cramming into my pocket.

Hold by Randy Ribay, illus. by Zeke Peña. Kokila, $18.99 Apr. 21; ISBN 978-0-5938-5698-7