Olivia is not a real child — the photograph is AI-generated, so no family’s picture is on this page. The book is real: it was made here, the same way yours will be.

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Illustrated Your child painted into the story, with their own face Photo child, drawn world Your child looks real, the story world around them is illustrated Photo-real Child and story world both look like a real photograph

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Picking up where we left off…

Olivia and the Wonderfully Peculiar Day

Cover

The photograph of Olivia the book was drawn from — The photo we uploaded

Page 1 of Olivia’s storybook — The afternoon on the riverbank felt long and dull, and Olivia’s open book had no pictures worth counting. Then a white rabbit in a waistcoat hurried past. “Late, late, terribly late!” he muttered, and Olivia sat up with a question bubbling inside her.

Page one of the book that came back

Olivia, aged 4the child in the photo
Alice in Wonderlandchosen from the story library
10 pageseach one drawn for this book
One photonothing else was uploaded

How this book was drawn

Picture styleIllustrated
Illustration strengthMedium
Illustration lookLuminous drawing

Every page of Olivia’s book

The same face from the first page to the last, painted in one style. These are the pages exactly as they came out.

The afternoon on the riverbank felt long and dull, and Olivia’s open book had no pictures worth counting. Then a white rabbit in a waistcoat hurried past. “Late, late, terribly late!” he muttered, and Olivia sat up with a question bubbling inside her.
Olivia followed the hurried rabbit in his waistcoat straight into a rabbit hole. Down she tumbled, slowly as a drifting feather, past floating cupboards and teaspoons. “What a peculiar staircase!” Olivia said, while the rabbit fluttered below her into Wonderland.
Olivia landed softly in a long hall where every door was locked. On a glass table lay one golden key, bright as a little sun. Olivia tried it carefully: it fitted only the smallest door, much too small for her.
A bite of cake made Olivia grow tall enough to peek over the trees. “Oh, hello, treetops!” she whispered. Then a sip from a curious bottle made Olivia teacup-small, and she slipped under the little door into a garden smelling of sunshine.
By an enormous mushroom, Olivia was her usual size again. A blue caterpillar smoked a pipe and asked, “Who exactly are you?” Olivia put her hands behind her back. “I’m Olivia, and I’m four—even when I’m a very different size.”
Olivia asked a striped cat which way she should go. “That way leads somewhere, and this way does too,” he said, perfectly truthfully and not helpfully at all. Olivia raised both hands in puzzlement as he faded away, leaving his grin until last.
Under the trees, Olivia joined the Mad Hatter and the March Hare at a tea party that never ended. “Another cup!” cried the Hatter, although every cup was full. Olivia giggled and poured pretend tea into an empty acorn shell.
Olivia found three playing-card gardeners painting white roses red, very fast. “Before the Queen notices!” one whispered, knocking over the paint pot. Olivia raised her hands to warn them about the spreading puddle, and they carefully shuffled around it without spilling another drop.
At croquet, the Queen shouted, “Everyone must let me win!” Olivia held her flamingo gently and stood straight. “Please don’t shout; everyone deserves a turn,” Olivia said firmly. When the Queen’s ball rolled past its hoop, the Queen blinked, then agreed to try again politely.
The White Rabbit hurried past Olivia once more, searching for his gloves. Olivia spotted them beside a flowerpot, and his whiskers brightened. He led her straight to the little door and the long climb up the rabbit hole. Olivia emerged into sunshine, ready to tell her wonderfully peculiar story.