THIS DOOR IS CLOSED
- Brian Gehrlein
- 13 hours ago
- 6 min read

To all facing a closed door. To all who knock.
I've enjoyed hearing responses to The Almost Book over the years. Ever since posting it, I've been curious to share similar content. So here's another...
The original draft for this story was written in July of 2021 in the middle of the night on my iPhone when I couldn’t sleep (you know you do it too!). I had been feeling frustrated with not finding a home for my second book (what would eventually become This is Not a Sleepy Bear Book). After completing a draft, the manuscript sat in a folder for an entire year—to incubate, forget about, rediscover, and see it with new eyes. Then it became three books using a similar metaphor which didn't really go anywhere. It was an homage to my author journey. A story to remind myself of the power of persistence and never giving up. It was me nurturing my own heart by remembering where I’ve been—600 rejections before finding my first agent!
What's interesting is that I was telling myself this story to gain emotional fortitude, not to give up after already having my debut, The Book of Rules (a "big five" at-auction book deal), out in the world. Some of you are probably thinking, Brian! How could you feel this way after already achieving something like this!? The often unspoken truth is that the goalposts always move. That next horizon, goal, or mountain top pops up, sometimes whether you know it or not. I was afraid I only had one book in me and that lightning wouldn't strike again. So I wrote about a closed door and a main character desperate for it to open. Sound familiar?
However, after a while (and through the help of my then agent Jennifer Mattson), I realized this book was really for grown-ups. It was for me and others like me who found themselves on the other side of a door—especially those in the pre-published or querying trenches. Not kids. Major red flag—irredeemable picture book red flag. Ultimately, I want my picture books to speak to kids and their unique experiences. This metaphor doesn’t work for them. For that reason, this concept, while inspirational for adults and helpful to me at the time, is not one that I care to revise or force to be relevant for children. So I’m letting it go and giving it to you.
For those who read The Almost Book, you'll notice that this one is more polished as a picture book manuscript. I've got page turns and pacing sketched out over 32-pages (I almost exclusively use the 40-page self-ended format in my manuscripts). I’ve left it just as I had it—paginated with art notes so you can take a little peek into the way I navigate those things. The manuscripts I’ve sold and submitted look identical to this in form.
I hope it adds a little gas to your tank or gives you that little nudge to keep on knocking…
If nobody has told you today, it’s a beautiful day to knock on a door.
Best of luck out there, kidlit fam.
THIS DOOR IS CLOSED
By Brian Gehrlein
[1]
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[2-3]
End papers
[4-5]
Copyright, dedication, title page
[6-7]
(Art Note: A little girl stands in front of a massive door. Maybe there are other doors to the sides and in the background.)
I’m supposed to be in there. There, on the other side. It’s where I belong.
[8-9]
But this door will not open. It will not let me in. This door is closed.
[10-11]
No matter how much I knock, or whatever I do, it doesn’t want to open. I’ve tried every way there is to knock.
[12-13]
Loud. Soft. Fast. Slow. This way. That way. These ways. Those ways. Even silly sideways! Nothing seems to work.
And still, I go on knocking. Still, I go on waiting. I belong in there.
[14-15]
While I knock and wait, I watch doors open for others. It’s bittersweet.
But mostly it makes me happy to see so much light. And it reminds me that doors are meant to open—one way or another. So, mine will too…right?
[16-17]
Maybe you’re ticklish, door. Nope. How about a good, solid kick? Ouch. When I close my eyes and count to three, you will OPEN! One, two, three! Ugh.
When I first started knocking, this was exciting. There was joy. Not anymore.
[18-19]
Oh, why won’t you open for me? Am I doing something wrong? Do you not like me? Do you not like people like me? Is it the way I’m knocking? Does nobody hear it?
“IS ANYBODY THERE?!”
[20-21]
I’m waiting and knocking and waiting and knocking.
“Door, please open up?”
I’m touching and tapping and slumping and slapping.
“Oh, please won’t you open up?”
And I’m standing and lying and pounding and praying!
“Still…not even now?”
This door is closed, and I’m out here all alone. Unseen. Unheard. Forgotten.
[22-23]
No. It’s not time to be sad. It’s time to get mad! I’m yelling and shaking and crying and quaking!
“You opened for them! So why not for me? If you don’t open right now, I’ll never knock again!”
[24-25]
(Art Note: The door’s silence is deafening. It towers over her, bigger now, unmoved from her tender heart’s plea. Darkness, like smoke, creeps in.)
[26-27]
“Maybe I don’t belong in there after all. Maybe I belong out here.”
I sink into the cold floor.
[28-29]
And then out of the deep, a vision appears…
I’m smiling and knocking, knowing somehow this is it. Suddenly the door bursts open and I’m filled with a wild joy! Light floods in and wraps every part of me in its warmth. It lifts and twirls me around as if to say welcome home! Welcome, to the place where you belong.
[30-31]
The vision fades and I’m back on the cold, hard ground. But I remember the joy—the warmth.
My finger begins to tap on the door. And then I knock. I stand and knock! I knock tall with pride, knowing doors only open to those who knock!
[32-33]
I knock and knock and knock as the hope and joy of just trying overflows!
“Open up, door! I belong in there and I’ll never stop knocking again!”
[34-35]
(Art Note: Spectacular door opening moment! Light pours from the door, surrounding her)
This door is… open?
[36-37]
And it's far brighter than I ever imagined.
[38-39]
End papers
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Writing Exercise & Reflection: They say "write what you know." I wrote this out of fear and pain and frustration. Those emotions were real, even if they were rooted in impatience, insecurity, or ingratitude for what I already had. While the concept and metaphor of knocking on a door to get somewhere or achieve something might not be relevant for kids as it is for adults, the instinct to write from an authentic experience or emotion was powerful for me. It doesn't matter that I'm not pursuing it for publication. Not everything I write needs to be published or even shared with an agent or even shared with another human, for that matter. Some stuff is just pure self-expression or to make sense of how I'm feeling or processing life. Sometimes writing is therapy—and far cheaper, too!
So...what needs to get off YOUR chest or be expressed today? How can that be turned into a picture book? Does it need to be a picture book? Would it speak to kids' experiences? Would kids care? If not the thing that needs to get off your chest today, is there something you experienced as a kid that you can tap into with emotional authority? What emotional wells do you deeply know? For me, it's being new and longing to belong and be known, as I moved around a lot as a kid. Maybe one of these days I'll be brave enough to write about that. Pulling from personal experience is risky but deeply satisfying. Writing This Door is Closed showed me that. Something I didn't share about this story and the timeline of my author journey is that I finished this and shared it with my agent just a few months before Little, Brown Books for Young Readers made their offer for This is Not a Sleepy Bear Book.
You just never know when that door might swing open...

Brian Gehrlein writes for children and sometimes for grown-ups like you. He runs a picture book story coaching service and is always looking to connect with other kidlit creators. Brian thanks you for stopping by.
Now go knock on a door or write a picture book or read to a kid!

