Ed Briant is an author, illustrator, and sequential artist, living and working near Philadelphia. Eds mother had always wanted him to become a dentist. Eds father had his heart set on Ed becoming an accountant. Not wanting to disappoint either of his parents Ed chose to compromise, believing that a career as an illustrator would combine the thrill of oral examinations with the glamor of adding up long columns of figures. In the end being an illustrator proved to be more like being a fireman. The phone would ring, Ed would leap on his bike, and ride as fast as he could to the offices of The Times, or Vogue, or The Guardian. Once there he would be commanded to produce a minor work of art in barely more time than it took to scratch his head, make a mug of tea, and sharpen a pencil. One afternoon the phone rang and it was Glamor magazine in New York. This time Ed left his mug of tea untouched and his pencils unsharpened. He left his bike locked to the railings outside the British Museum and for once he took public transport. A few hours later Ed found himself scratching his head, making tea, and sharpening pencils in a tiny room on New Yorks West 11th Street. But even here the phone continued to ring. This time the callers were from Premiere, The New York Times, The Atlantic Monthly, The New Yorker, Pentagram, and many others. A decade and many hundreds of illustrations later Ed found himself yearning for something a little more long-term. What would it be like to spend more than an hour on a piece of art? Still in New York, Ed began frequenting dingy bars late into the night. Finally after many monthsand far too many CosmopolitansEd met up with Neal Porter of Roaring Brook Press. Plots were hatched, book deals were signed, and Ed embarked on a new career as an author-illustrator of picture books and comics. Now Ed can spend weeks on a single illustration. He can spend days merely scratching his head and making tea while he dreams up the perfect concept, but every now and again he still casts his mind back to his days as an illustrator-fireman. There really was a kind of thrill and glamor in the frenetic world of editorial illustration. Could he ever go back to it? Would he even have the energy now? After all, his bike is still chained up outside the British Museum.