PICTURE BOOK REVIEW & AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR INTERVIEW : Tajin and the Twelve Thunders by Magaly Morales
ABOUT THE BOOK
Tajín is a fun-loving child full of energy and mischief. When his antics prove too rough for even the monkeys of the forest, he’s sent to the pyramid of Los Nichos.
There live the Twelve Thunders, who, with their sweeping capes, thunderous boots, and flashing swords, make the weather. For a time, the boy is on his best behavior while in their service . . . but all too soon, he yearns to join the Thunders in the sky.
Based on a popular Mexican myth, Tajín and the Twelve Thunders is the origin story of how the first hurricanes were created—with the help of one mischievous little boy.
AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR INTERVIEW
The story behind the story is really about a relationship that lasted for decades. Some stories enter your life and then quietly fade away. Tajín did the opposite. It stayed with me.
I grew up in Veracruz, the Mexican state where the ancient city of El Tajín still stands. Because of that, this wasn’t simply a folktale to me—it was part of the cultural landscape that surrounded me growing up. I first encountered the story as a child, but what fascinated me was not only the tale itself. It was the character. Tajín is impulsive, playful, unpredictable, and full of energy. Over the years, I realized that I recognized something of myself in him.
Long before I imagined this as a book, I found myself drawing him, thinking about him, and returning to the story again and again. Whenever I set the project aside, it eventually found its way back to me.
In many ways, this book is the result of listening to a story that refused to leave.
*Which comes first: words or illustrations?
For me, neither words nor illustrations come first. What comes first is a feeling.
I always begin by asking myself what is moving me, what I am experiencing, what I need, and what I want to express and why. Everything starts there.
Then the words begin to arrive. And almost at the same time, my imagination inevitably joins in. As the story takes shape in language, images start appearing on their own. They don’t ask permission—they simply arrive. It’s almost as if I were watching a vivid movie playing inside my head.
Because I work as both a writer and an illustrator, the two processes are deeply connected for me. The words inspire the images, and the images often suggest new words in return. They grow together until they become part of the same story.
*What drew you to the original folktale? What changes did you have to make for it to work as a picture book?
What first drew me to the folktale was its main character. Tajín is not a typical hero. He is impulsive, curious, mischievous, and overflowing with energy. I was fascinated by the fact that the story doesn’t try to erase those qualities. Instead, it explores what happens when that energy is left unchecked and how it can eventually be directed toward something meaningful.
One of the challenges in adapting the folktale into a picture book was that traditional myths are often told very differently from contemporary children’s stories. They can be episodic, symbolic, and sometimes leave important details unexplained because the original audience already understood the cultural context.
My goal was not to modernize the myth, but to make it accessible to young readers while preserving its spirit. I focused on creating a clearer emotional journey for Tajín and shaping the narrative in a way that would feel engaging and satisfying in a picture-book format.
At the same time, I wanted to retain the sense of mystery that is so important to traditional stories. Some questions remain unanswered, and I think that is part of their power. Folktales invite us to wonder rather than explain everything.
*Will you tell us a little about your writing and illustrating processes?
I have always believed that words carry a kind of magic, and that the way they are spoken can profoundly affect the person who hears them.
As I mentioned before, I always begin with a feeling. I pay close attention to what resonates inside me, to what feels true. I rely heavily on imagination, and words naturally lead me toward images and inner metaphors. From there, the language often seems to arrange itself. I may not always know whether something is technically “well written,” but I do know when it feels right and when something is still missing. I can usually sense the atmosphere I want to create and, at the very least, where a story should begin and where it should end.
Illustration works in a similar way for me. Images appear almost effortlessly. My imagination is constantly generating them, and they are always connected to the emotions behind the words. Whether I am writing a story or illustrating someone else’s, I am always searching for what lies beneath the text. I believe that illustrations tell a second story—one that runs alongside the written narrative.
I try to find the thread that carries that visual story from beginning to end. Once I understand what that thread is trying to say, everything else begins to flow naturally.
Composition is one of the aspects of illustration that fascinates me most. I want the arrangement of shapes and elements on each page to reflect what that particular moment in the story is feeling and expressing.
On a practical level, I always begin with tiny sketches that are usually quite ugly and almost impossible for anyone else to understand. But those rough thumbnails become the backbone of the entire book. From there, I simply focus on the next step, and then the next one.
People sometimes imagine that creating a book is an overwhelming task, but my approach is always to begin with what feels easiest. If I am uncertain about some colors, I start with what I already know—the sky, the grass, a character’s skin tone. Starting somewhere simple creates momentum.
There is so much that could be said about the creative process, but perhaps the most important thing I have learned is to find a personal connection to the work and to create from the place that requires the least resistance. When that connection is there, the work knows how to move forward.
*What risks have you taken with your writing that have paid off?
Many of the risks I have taken in my writing are really the same risk expressed in different ways: trusting my own voice.
I have written for as long as I can remember. Since I was young, writing has been a private space where I could explore ideas, emotions, and stories. Yet for many years, I did not have the confidence to share that part of myself publicly. I was known primarily as an illustrator, and stepping into the role of author felt vulnerable in a completely different way.
Writing Tajín and the Twelve Thunders required me to take that leap. It meant trusting that I had something meaningful to say and allowing others to see a more personal side of my creative process.
Over the years, I have also learned to trust intuition. I do not begin with formulas or trends. I begin with a feeling, an image, a question, or something that keeps calling to me. Following that instinct can feel risky because there is no guarantee that anyone else will connect with it.
I have taken risks by writing stories that mattered deeply to me without knowing whether they would seem commercially appealing. I have taken risks by leaving some questions unanswered, by valuing atmosphere and emotion as much as explanation, and by trusting readers to bring their own imagination to the story.
In the end, the risks that have paid off most have been the moments when I chose authenticity over certainty. Whenever I have created from a place of genuine curiosity, emotion, and personal connection, the work has felt more alive—not only to me, but often to readers as well.
REVIEW
Tajin and the Twelve Thunders revolves around an early myth about a young boy whose exuberance leads to a hurricane. Tajin's rough play leads his animal playmates to avoid him. Quetzalcoatl, a Mesoamerican deity called the Feathered Serpent, advices Tajin to go see the Twelve Thunders, the gods in charge of the weather, in order to learn how to be gentle. After convincing them to give him a chance, Tajin works hard doing chores around the place, until the day he picks up the instruments used by the gods to create the weather and lets loose. The storm he creates is a hurricane although not named as such in the text. The Twelve Thunders arrive to reclaim their boots and capes before banishing Tajin to the sea. This pourquoi tale from Pre-Columbian tradition provides an entertaining explanation for the existence of massive storms. The stunning digitally created art highlights Tajin's wild behavior beautifully. The bright colors highlight the art based on ancient Central American cultures from the area around Verzacruz, Mexico (as explained in the author's note in the back matter). Tajin makes for a likable character reminiscent of many children and their enthusiasm. In addition to being an entertaining story, it also provides a glimpse into another culture. Highly recommended.
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