Beyond the Book: Coloring Finley’s World
The first Finley coloring book exists because of a conversation with a friend.
I had finished the first Finley book, and possibly the second, when she told me how much her child enjoyed reading it and kept asking for more.
Then she mentioned something else. Her kid loved to color.
Would I ever consider turning Finley into a coloring page?
The funny thing is, making coloring pages wasn't remotely new territory for me.
Apparently I've been making coloring books for years
Long before Finley had her own books, I spent more than 15 years teaching science. Even teaching high school and AP-level sciences, I always believed there was room for a good brain break. After testing, during stations, or when a concept lent itself to something more visual, I would make coloring pages and other activities for my students. And this was before you could simply ask an app to magically turn something into a coloring sheet.
Mine involved sketchbooks, photocopiers, vector images, and a fair amount of tinkering. It was also a process I already knew from designing shirts for school clubs and sports. Sketch the artwork. Clean it up. Vectorize it. Prepare it so someone could turn it into a one- or two-color print.
Over the years, I even made little coloring books as gifts for friends' children. Sometimes they were stapled together. If I was feeling particularly fancy, they got the deluxe Staples spiral binding treatment. So when my friend suggested a Finley coloring page, the idea didn't feel like starting something completely new. It felt like revisiting something I'd been doing for years and giving it a new character.
A coloring book that still tells a story
I didn't want to simply collect random pictures of Finley and call it a coloring book. The first story, Finley Goes to the Park, already gave me a little world to work with. So the coloring book became a companion to that adventure. The pages follow the feeling of Finley's day at the park while giving kids room to make the world their own. I wanted enough background detail to keep an older child happily occupied without making every page overwhelming for someone younger.
That balance became part of the fun. And when I finally saw the pages together, it clicked. A Finley story didn't necessarily have to end when the book closed. A child could color it. Play with it. Add to it. There could be other ways into her world.
And then I bought a sticker maker
Because apparently one new creative rabbit hole at a time would be far too sensible. Around that same period, I kept seeing viral TikTok videos about a sticker maker. As someone who already owned a Cricut and knew the traditional multi-step sticker-making process, I was intrigued. To be fair, I had a perfectly practical reason for buying one. I work in real estate, and I wanted an easier way to make logos and labels for open-house materials and client drop-by gifts. Very responsible. Entirely business-related.
Naturally, it wasn't long before I started wondering what would happen if I imported some of my Finley artwork instead. Images from the children's books and coloring book started becoming stickers. And once again, something I already knew how to make found its way into Finley's growing universe.
One story can become a lot of things
That's probably the lesson I've learned from Finley more than anything. I don't necessarily sit down and decide, Today I am going to build an entire product collection.
Usually one idea leads to another. A photograph became an illustration. An illustration became a children's book. A children's book inspired a coloring book. A sticker maker purchased for real estate somehow ended up making Finley stickers.
And now I have plans for coloring companions to the other published stories, along with plenty of other ideas for ways kids can explore, create, and play alongside Finley.
Apparently her adventures don't have to stay between two covers.
They're becoming a little world of their own.