Gifted, generous and genuine are just a few of the outstanding qualities of Ebony Lynn Mudd. Her love and big heart shine in the beautiful stories she writes and in the way she invests in children’s literature friends. In books like Just Like Tina and the forthcoming, Junior Takes a Leap, Ebony weaves words into touching tales filled with joy and meaning. Through the non-profit she co-founded, PB Rising Stars, she has uplifted aspiring authors, built community and celebrated fellow creators. Ebony doesn’t just embrace opportunities to give back, she looks for them and gives each endeavor her trademark grace, sparkle and attention to detail.
We are proud to honor Ebony on Day 26.
About Ebony
Ebony Lynn Mudd is a storyteller and literary activist who creates joyful worlds that center underrepresented kids as the main characters. Her debut picture book, Just Like Tina: Inspired by the Life of Tina Turner, was exclusively announced by People Magazine and is the only picture book created in collaboration with Tina Turner’s Estate.
She is the author of forthcoming picture books, including Junior Takes a Leap (Scholastic), which celebrates the truth that Black boys dance, and Swim Like Them (Simon & Schuster), which reclaims the deep, powerful relationship between Black people and the water. Ebony is also a creative writing instructor, the creator of the YOUR ART IS THE PRIZE empowerment mindset for creators navigating the power dynamics of publishing, and the co-founder of PB Rising Stars, a free picture book mentorship program that has served over 130 picture book creators over five years.
Ebony’s literacy advocacy extends beyond the page. Following a viral video, she appeared on The Jennifer Hudson Show alongside her son, where they discussed literacy, representation, and raising readers who see themselves reflected on the page.
Ebony lives in North Carolina with her family and is always ready for the next classroom visit, conversation, or story that brings kids closer to themselves.
The Journey
I didn’t join the publishing world as a creator who always knew she wanted to be a writer.
I came as a dancer. A lover of the arts. And someone whose relationship to picture books started with bedtime reads with my son.
Before picture books, I told stories through movement. Dance taught me how emotion shows up in the body, how rhythm carries meaning, and how an audience feels and experiences a story before they can explain it.
Dance taught me how to communicate joy, resistance, freedom, and identity through storytelling. And when I became a dance teacher, I started noticing the real magic of this art.
I wasn’t just teaching my students different steps. I was teaching them stories.
I watched kids understand themselves differently when they moved.
I watched confidence shift when a child realized their body belonged in the room.
I watched boys light up when they discovered they were allowed to be expressive and that dancing was for them too.
I watched kids who were quiet in other spaces come alive in the arts, experiencing it as a place of permission, not performance.
Over time, I realized I had a lot I wanted to say to kids.
I wanted to say:
Hey, Black boys, you can dance too.
Hey, Black kids, you can swim too.
Hey, your joy isn’t extra. It’s essential.
Hey, the things you’ve been told aren’t for you actually are.
I fell in love with writing when I realized words could hold all of that. I loved that my writing could break those truths down in a way that invited kids in and made them feel safe.
And then it hit me that writing also meant I could reach kids all over the world with those messages. My books could travel farther than I ever could, communicating with kids I’d never even get the chance to meet.
Writing picture books became my bridge to stay in conversation with kids through a form they could return to again and again.
And once I understood that kind of reach, I didn’t want to wait until my own books were out in the world to start showing up.
Long before my own books were announced, I started showing up for literacy, for creators, and for this community. I co-founded a free picture book mentorship program in 2022, PB Rising Stars, because I saw how many talented creators were being locked out of access, feedback, and confidence. Over five years, we have served over 100 picture book creators, mostly from historically underrepresented backgrounds.
I started and taught picture book revision classes not as obedience to the industry, but as a way for creators to protect their voices inside it. I created a space where people could be in process without perfection. And I showed up publicly for books, for kids, and for other creators, even though my own stories weren’t on shelves yet.
I didn’t want to sit on the sidelines until I had my books in my hands. I felt like there was important work to do, even before the work had my name on it.
So now that I’m officially published, it doesn’t feel like a finish line. It’s just another way to stay in relationship with the purpose, the people, and the kids who have mattered to me from the very beginning.
The Process
I think about picture books the way I think about choreography.
Not in a metaphorical way. In a real way.
When I’m drafting, I’m thinking about pacing the way I used to think about a dance routine. Where does the story rise? Where does it pause? Where does it surprise you? Where do you need to take a breath? Where can a page turn act like a beat drop?
I decide how I want a story to move through a reader’s body and mind first. I think about peaks and valleys, tension and release, when to let a page hold still so we can take in the joy, and when to let it dance so we can express it. Crafting movement from moment to moment in a story is a narrative tool I use intentionally.
Sound matters to me too. And rhythm. The way language hits your ear and shapes how the story feels as it unfolds. I want the read-aloud experience to feel like something is happening in the room with the kids, not just being explained to them. A picture book, at its best, is not just read. It’s experienced.
And revision is my favorite part of the process! It’s the best kind of creative puzzle.
Revision is where I go back and make sure the heart of my story is beating in a way that keeps it alive. Sometimes revision is where I find the real story. Sometimes it’s where I save it. I ask myself questions like: What is this story really saying to a child? Is that what I want it to say? Where does it ask them to lean in? Is that what I was going for? And where does it give them permission to be fully themselves? Because the story becomes theirs once the book is published, am I giving them space to claim it as their own?
With my picture book debut, Just Like Tina, revision helped me hold onto the thing I cared about the most. It was important to me to build a world that centered Tina Turner’s humanity in ways the world hasn’t always done. We all know Tina on stage. The powerhouse, the hair, the dresses, the Queen of Rock ’n’ Roll. That legacy deserves to be honored, and it lives in every spread of the book. But it was equally important to me that readers meet the human and heart behind the icon.
Tina Turner’s humanity is what created the music we love so much. Her courage, vulnerability, faith, and ability to be unapologetically herself are the roots of her brilliance. Once I knew that her humanity would be the driving force of the story, everything else fell into place. From there, I could build a main character like Shay, someone easy to love even in her flawed behavior. Someone figuring herself out in real time.
I also write with the classroom in mind. Not in a lesson-plan way, but in a “what conversation do I want to have with kids?” kind of way. I think about the questions I hope they ask, what I want them to feel brave enough to say out loud, and what feeling I want them to leave with after a storytime or an author visit. Then I build a story that can invite those moments.
My process is very intentional, but it’s not rigid. It’s about creating an experience for a reader and making sure that experience is honest. It’s about honoring joy and treating revision as a place of power.
The Inspiration
People ask what inspires my work, and I never have a buttoned up answer, because it isn’t one person or one book. It’s what I notice over time. Paying attention to the small but consistent gaps between how children experience the world and how their stories are often told.
I pay attention to what children are absorbing. What they repeat. What they are told is “for them” and what the world has quietly decided isn’t. And what they’re learning about other people before they’ve even met them.
All of those observations end up shaping my work more than any single book or person ever has.
I’m especially inspired by the idea of first entry points.
For many children, a picture book is not just a story. It’s a first introduction. A first impression. A first way of understanding something bigger than themselves. And that matters. The first story a child encounters about a person, a community, or a piece of history can shape their confidence, their curiosity, or their misunderstanding long before they realize it’s happening.
So I think often about what it means to be someone’s first doorway.
If a child’s first entry point into Black music history is a story like Just Like Tina, that moment
can be formative. It can shape how they understand legacy, creativity, resilience, humanity, even themselves. It can influence whether Black history feels distant or intimate, flat or alive, academic or relevant.
That responsibility isn’t lost on me.
When I sit down to write, I’m not chasing inspiration as a feeling. I’m responding to something I’ve noticed and don’t want to mishandle. If I’m going to be an entry point into a story, a history, or a legacy, I want that doorway to feel generous. I want it to leave room for curiosity instead of rushing kids to conclusions.
I write to offer kids a beginning that feels honest and expansive. One that invites them to keep learning, keep asking, and keep moving through the world with more care than they might have before.
That’s what inspires me.
Not being the final word, but being a meaningful first one.
The Buzz
- Featured guest on The Jennifer Hudson Show, where Ebony appeared with her son to discuss the importance of books and literacy following a viral video that resonated with families nationwide.
- Ebony’s debut picture book, Just Like Tina, was featured exclusively in People Magazine, celebrating the legacy of Tina Turner and unveiling the book’s cover.
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