Charlie Mackesy: 'I’d rather have spilt ink and spelling mistakes than AI'
The creator of The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse tells Big Issue he is still looking for hope and messiness. Plus your chance to win a signed print or magazine
Charlie Mackesy is at home. He’s just returned to rural Suffolk from a wedding in Scotland.
“It was one of the best weddings I think I’ve ever been to,” he says. “We danced. It was pretty wild but it was one of those ceilidhs where no one minded if you weren’t very good or you did your own thing. So it was hilarious.
“I’m still a bit knackered today,” he continues, clearly still energised from the event.
Mackesy is creator of The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, delicate sketches about vulnerability, kindness and belonging that have become a social media and publishing phenomenon.
His first book about the wholesome foursome was published late 2019 and its impact was supercharged by the succour it provided in the locked-down world of 2020 and beyond it had unknowingly wandered into.
The original book holds the record for the longest-running number one in The Sunday Times non-fiction bestsellers chart and has sold 10 million copies globally.
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The film adaptation won an Oscar for Best Animated Short Film and a Bafta for Best British Short Film. The book’s sequel, Always Remember, was released last year and topped the 2025 Christmas book chart.
Before Big Issue calls Mackesy, he posted on Instagram a picture of two of his characters sitting on a tree branch: “‘What do you think success is?’ asked the boy. ‘To love,’ said the mole.”
That picture hangs on Mackesy’s studio wall and he sees it every morning. He is hugely, irrefutably successful, but he doesn’t measure it in sales or bank account balances.
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“I’ve always felt that success in our culture is understood to be acquisition: a status, financial, houses and things actually, just things,” he says.
“To me the thing that matters most in existence are your relationships and your friendships and how people feel when they’re with you.
“Success is basically about love. In all its forms. It doesn’t have to be romantic, it can be about kindness and connection. Empathy is a big one.”
In no time at all, his social media post attracts thousands of likes, shares and responses. There are comments from a person who leads retreats for young boys and reports that Mackesy’s books have had a huge impact both on students and fellow teachers; an 86-year-old who writes that, despite being born during the Second World War, “my childhood was happy and carefree…I often sit and cry at the world we left behind”; another points out that the boy’s feet form the shape of a heart.
On every post there are similar outpourings of affection from thousands of people the work connects to.
“Even though it’s online, the people out there are real,” Mackesy says. “When I bump into them randomly, like I did last night on the train twice from Edinburgh, they tell me, ‘I was with my granny when she was dying, we read the book and it brought us closer together…’ I go to book signings and listen to people’s stories. Sometimes it’s three, four hours sitting at the table listening to things I’ll never forget. That to me is the is the best bit of all.”
Are the drawings you create feel like the beginnings of stories other people can complete?
“They don’t have to but I like it when they do. Going back to success, if a child can be inspired to read then write their own stories, think about how they feel about the world and dare to express it, if I can be part of that journey then I’m thrilled. Or if it brings people together or helps someone feel less alone. There are so many responses I’ll never hear but when I do hear them, it really moves me and always will.”
Many rivers to cross
More than the creator of The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, Northumberland-born Mackesy, who finds it “terrifying” to find himself in his sixties, is all of the above. There are autobiographical elements in each character.
He explains: “The fox takes time to trust. The mole is the bit of me that eats all the cake to make himself feel better. The horse, probably the wisest. The boy is always asking questions.”
Have the proportions of how each make up Mackesy’s personality changed over time?
“I’m definitely older. By that token you hope you’re a bit wiser. I don’t know whether I’m less mole-like. Before you called me I was quite nervous so I launched my way through some lemon drizzle cake, so the mole is still very present in me. I hope to think I’m a bit less prickly than I was, that the fox has softened, maybe. And the boy in me, the questions don’t go, they’re just a different set of questions.”
Mackesy’s work is a source of encouragement and inspiration for many but the person who sometimes needs that advice the most is Mackesy himself.
“I’ve always liked making work that’s hopeful,” he says. “Maybe because I’ve struggled in my life to find it. The internet and social media is flooded with anger and I don’t think we’re designed to cope with that level of constant negativity.
“We can be frightened of the magnitude of unkindness when we read the news but for every story we hear of violence, there’s a million stories of kindness we never hear about. Remember there is everyday kindness everywhere. And we can start with ourselves.
“Get into nature, eat well, sleep well, the basics are very important. Which I often forget. I’m terrible at all of that. I wrote the book for me as much as anybody else, to remind me. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and spiral. I spiral. I do struggle sometimes. I planted thousands of trees, trying to make some land wilder than it was, and the last two summers have been very difficult. I’ve watched ponds dry and trees wither, and it’s really affected me.
“When the big things feel out of control, focus on what you love right under your nose. That’s basically my theory. Small things can be huge. The smile. The text, ‘How are you getting on?’ Getting someone a cup of tea. Small acts of kindness can save a life.
“Don’t be ashamed of talking about what you’re going through. I genuinely think it’s truly strong to reveal your weakness. It’s so important, especially in men – I think women are probably better at it – the guys I know, we have been on a journey of daring to tell the truth about how hard it’s been. I have close friends who couldn’t speak of it and chose not to be here, and so I think I made the books in memory of them too.
“There’s a strange dynamic where the thing, ultimately, I think we want is to connect. And the way we often connect is through vulnerability. Someone saying, ‘Gosh, you as well?’
“But I’m no guru. I’ve never suggested that I’m on the other side of the river telling people how to cross. I’m on the same side of the river as everybody else, saying, ‘How are we going to do this?’”
The necessity of being messy
This week, Mackesy opens an exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery. It features original artworks from his book, the charming mix of fine art and philosophy, as well as an invitation for people to use pads of paper and crayons “to write on the walls and make it quite a messy space,” says Mackesy. “The gallery’s been lovely in allowing that.”
Being a “grubby artist”, as Mackesy describes himself on his Instagram bio, is more vital than ever.
“I think my posts will change and become messier,” he says. “The last thing I ever want is to do a drawing that someone could think was done by AI. I’d hate that. I’d rather have spilt ink and spelling mistakes. Anything that is human.
“I’m working on this third book where it’s all about that. I’ve got one page, just drawings crossed out and it’s OK. Mistakes are part of the journey. Whatever success is, it’s not a great teacher. The greatest teacher is failure. So don’t fear it. Don’t fear the best teacher you could ever have.”
Mackesy describes his home littered with unsold drawings that represent waypoints on the journey to where he is today. A place where, it seems, he’s finally able to take some of his own advice.
“Someone said at the wedding, you know, Charlie, you were present, fully there. And it made me really emotional for two reasons. One, that I really was present, I did love being with the people, but also that I hadn’t been before. That they noticed a difference. I often wonder what it’s like to be with me when I’m not present, when I’m distracted or anxious.
“But I have to forgive myself for it and know that I’m changing. I think we’re always changing. That’s what I’m writing about at the moment. It’s never too late to change your mind, just keep going. Try again. Try again. Try again. Write another article. Make another cake. Whatever it is you’re doing.
“It’s important to enjoy our imperfections and accept that every day is a stepping stone to the next. We learn from our mistakes. You know, just fail better tomorrow.”
Charlie Mackesy: The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, the Horse and… You is at Dulwich Picture Gallery from 3 November 2026–7 February 2027
Always Remember by Charlie Mackesy is out now (Ebury Press, £22).
You can buy it from the Big Issue shop on bookshop.org, which helps to support Big Issue and independent bookshops.
