We were lucky to catch up with Sam Vinson recently and have shared our conversation below.

Sam, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Let’s jump right into how you came up with the idea?

This is in two parts, one about children’s literature and one about The Hippopotamus Thesaurus:

The idea to write children’s literature came first.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a special place they can go. Whether it be the Baudelaire Mansion, Mount Olympus, The Hogsmeade Tavern, Whoville, or The End of the Sidewalk, these places exist in our minds forever.

As we grow older, we begin to discover less and less fantastical places between pages, though the value and significance of these locations remain as vibrant as ever in our young minds. We pull on them, summon courage from them, reference them unconsciously, even use them as tools, like pretending it’s an I-Spy game to find car keys.

When did we stop exploring? Who made the reading range for children’s literature expire as we assumed the responsibilities of adults?

There are very few things we know we all agree on. Between every line of ethnicity, culture, socioeconomics, politics and even religion, we can all agree on one thing: children’s literature made a positive impact in our lives.

If that is something we all agree to (which I wholeheartedly believe we do), the pursuit of creating these books becomes not just a creative pursuit, but vocation. Every child, everywhere, deserves to create their own worlds in pages and pictures. Every child, everywhere, deserves to have these places, stories, ideas, affirmations, lessons, humor and other treasures that they will pull from for the rest of their lives.

This is why I embarked on my path, my quest, to explore the world and share what I find through pictures and words. I owe it to every author, those cherished friends on the book covers I love, to give back what was given to me: a perspective of curiosity, confidence, exploration and kindness. In a very real way, I’m just doing what everyone told me to do all along: do what you love, do what makes you happy, and everything will follow.

The thing that followed was the idea to write The Hippopotamus Thesaurus.

There are many ways to say the same thing, and there are many instances in which there is the perfect word. Like putting the last box into the moving van with a millimeter to space or the perfect tool for the tiniest screw, the satisfaction of finding the right word is beyond thrilling.

The perfect word also has a lot of power to convey expertise, credibility, and to spark curiosity from listeners. The perfect word can be a segue to stories and conversations that “good” or “amazing” would never provoke.

How do we find those perfect words? We must collect them. My whole life I’ve had a library of labeled boxes in my mind, dusty and waiting for their names to be written in lights.

The Hippopotamus Thesaurus serves two purposes: to share my love of words and language but most importantly, to ignite interest in young readers to not just read, but to explore literature in all of its contexts and applications.

There can, and should be, silliness and humor in every part of our lives. Sometimes the right word becomes the perfect word when laughter and joy is attached to it the moment it leaves your mouth. Sometimes words are meant to be tried out, to be opportunities for bravery and vulnerability, that we don’t always need to “know what we’re talking about”. Words are explorer’s ice picks and backpacks, the wings on paper airplanes, helicopter seeds from oak trees and parachutes made of dandelion tufts. Words are meant to travel, to traverse zones of understanding and context, to be on a never-ending adventure to find deeper meaning.

The Hippopotamus Thesaurus is the beginning of a treasure map, the first set of clues for all of us to find just one seed to plant in our garden that can grow into something that bungles its way into conversation. The Hippopotamus Thesaurus is a friend to give us confidence to use big, silly words without getting the collywobbles and to turn the most stubborn snollygosters into rambunctious flibbertigibbets.

Sam, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

My path to this point where I have found myself, where I am able to create valuable work for hungry minds, was not a straight line. There are many nooks and crannies, mountains and mole hills along my roadmap, but I do know where it started.

My journey began with teachers. Whether it was elementary school, university, a stint of home-school, post-grad mentors or colleagues, the notable landmarks I am able to backtrack from were all made possible by the passion of the people who took the time to give me an opportunity to learn.

This sense of gratitude has been a constant for me, which is why my priority of giving back in the ways I received has been a driving force. That has translated into interest and commitment to young minds, and to lead every action with the perspective I once had: that someone really is interested and invested in my well-being and growth.

My teenage years I spent with a backpack full of spray paint, jumping fences and dodging floodlights. My community was made of rebels and ethical miscreants, hellbent on transcribing our message, our story, for the world to see and maybe, just maybe, change their perspective. In high school I was uprooted from the wild west of Santa Fe to a more conventional, suburban environment in Colorado Springs. With no train yards or unkempt underpasses, I channeled my street art into a clothing company and learned how hard it is to operate a silk screen press and to manage inventory and expenses.

I went to undergrad at The University of Denver, and graduated with a double major in Business and Studio Art. I found a convergence of both through advertising and branding, and was able to be an indelible part of some incredible athletic wear, food and beverage, and outdoor lifestyle brands.

I currently am the Creative Director for a fine art publishing company and that has led to one of the most fulfilling ventures of my career, to be a part of pediatric healthcare environment design. Being a part of creating comforting and impactful spaces for children in moments of extreme uncertainty has been one of the most rewarding things I’ve been able to be a part of.

My venture into children’s literature began with the prompt I gave myself: “Sam, make yourself a book that you would have loved as a kid.” A writing exercise became an artistic challenge, which quickly became a vision. No matter the feasibility, execution or effort, I set out to make the BEST possible book I could for hungry, creative minds. Which led to the inevitable quest to make more.

That vision has translated into a reality, and this first physical representation of many to come is already a part of story time, ‘alone time’ of discovery, a reprieve from the chaos of the world, and most importantly, a tool used in classrooms to foster the brilliance of young minds.

In a roundabout way, my unwillingness to conform to medium, industry or financial feasibility has paved the way to my original vision, to pay forward what I have been given. To be brave enough to speak, to have the gift to be seen as teacher to others, for them to take seeds of what I give and become teachers themselves.

I can’t, and never will be able to, plan routes in the roadmap of creative pursuit. All I can do is approach every action with intent, curiosity, respect and kindness, and place dots in between.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

A story many creatives know, many have run from, and many work to forget is one word. Hunger.

Embarking, willfully, on a path that is fueled and supported by your ability to create is reckless. It comes with accepted risk and a promise that if followed through, can truly be a life’s work. It comes with the inevitability of sacrifice, many of which are not available in the inherited Terms & Conditions.

Hunger. Orthus, the two-headed brother of Cerberus. The beast that is fed by what is in your mind, and what is in your body. One can’t survive without the other, and many times there is not enough to share.

In my beginning, my first steps into the world of “creative”, I had a challenge. An Odyssey of sorts, I had three paths: food, shelter, journey. The deadlines, rent deposits, account receivables, groceries or art supplies could not exist in the same timeline.

I knew that the projects in the pipeline were enough to get to shore, and all I had to do was tread water. Tread water while making. I chose Journey. A few nights outside where if you just stay up late enough it’s a public nap, a few weeks of a rotating roster of couches and a bag full of “buy one get three “free” art supplies”, and that Iliad was complete. A calculated risk of self-belief and self-sacrifice, with the lesson that you never do it alone. When you follow a path you believe in, it’s impossible for others not to see it. It’s impossible for others not to support you.

I believe hunger is the most valuable shade of paint in my palette, a hue unlike others that can be woven into any material. It is a constant and forever will be, but never a measure of what I have. It is a testament that one hunger can support the other, as long as it needs to be able to share with the other.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

It’s a feeling that is not entirely unique to being an artist. If you like to cook, you’ve experienced it too. The pause when the world gets quiet when someone tries what you made. The vulnerability of waiting for their reaction, even though you already know it is delicious.

The most rewarding thing about being a creative is not self-satisfaction of knowing someone has enjoyed my work, but seeing them experience it. To see them experience it on their own, on their own terms, and to know something of value was received. Further, and more importantly, that they will take that value and carry it into their lives where it will continue to grow.

One of my best examples of this is a recent project I was involved with for Texas Children’s Hospital in Austin. We designed a wall alcove about 2 feet deep and 1 foot off the ground, a perfect little hidey hole for kids to jump into. The art in the alcove I designed was a busy, vibrant cave mural, with dozens of insects and animals all playing musical instruments. It was an I-Spy game with hidden elements and treasures that you would have to get into the alcove to be able to see.

The most rewarding part of this project was when I visited the hospital after install to get pictures. As we rounded the corner to the cave mural, we saw that the alcove was occupied by a little girl in a ballerina dress. We had to wait a while to be able to take a picture, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Having the rare opportunity to actually see the work you create in its intended application is one of the most rewarding things about pursuing a life as a creative.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.thehippopotamusthesaurus.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/samjvinson/
• Twitter: https://x.com/samjvinson

Image Credits

Sam Vinson