I first met Anne Ursu through Readerville, the online writing community, and like most of her friends, adored her instantly. We email occasionally, I've played her tapes of my son singing when he was two, and I follow her life on Facebook as religiously as I read her amazing books. She began her career writing for adults, with Spilling Clarence, a novel I happily blurbed, following it with The Disapparition of James, and then moved on to writing for kids. And what she writes is stunning. The Cronus Chronicles dipped into Greek mythology. Breadcrumbs, a haunting retelling of The Snow Queen, received starred reviews from Booklist, Publisher's Weekly, School Library Journal and more, and it was a selection for NPR's Backseat Book Club, and well as a Junior Library Guild Selection. Her latest novel, The Real Boy, about how we find our place in the world, is on the long list for the 2013 National Book Award.
I'm so honored to host Anne here!
You’ve had a dazzling career, beginning with your
acclaimed adult novels and the moving into your even more acclaimed children’s literature. So how does one get from one point
to the other? What made you want to write for children? How is it different? Do
you miss writing for adults and will you write for adults again--(though one
could say that your books ARE also for adults.)
I had such a profound relationship
with books when I was a kid. My mom said I used to disappear into my room on
Friday night with a stack of library books and come out Monday morning with
them all read. When you're a kid, you absorb books in a way adults just don't,
you really absorb them into part of your own being the way you do with
important experiences. And so I've carried all those books I absorbed with me,
and the thought of kids books always made me really happy. As I was working on
my adult books, I became good friends with someone who was writing middle grade
fiction. And I thought, "Wow, you can DO that?"
I got a little discouraged with adult
fiction and all the rules surrounding it. It seemed like women writers
especially were expected to write very straightforward books and if you tried
to play around with form or ideas there was something suspect about the work,
and then no one really listened. My second book involved a family who took
their little boy to a circus and a clown accidentally made him disappear; the
book then follows the family. I was trying to write about the absurdity of
loss, and it seemed like using that heightened situation was the most resonant
way of getting at it. After the book came out, I was at an author festival
sitting at a table while people examine your books and smile wanly at you, and
this woman came up to me and asked what the book was about. I told her, and her
nostril visibly twitched. "Oh," she said, "I don't like that
magic stuff."
And I think that was my problem: I
loved that magic stuff. To me stories
were all about magic of one kind or another. And meanwhile I was reading my
writer friend's brilliantly imaginative very smart stuff, and then I picked up
Harry Potter, and then it was all over.
I fell in love with fantasy for young readers--it was so smart and
inventive and playful, and meanwhile these books were engaging with really fundamental
ideas about the human experience.
The great thing about middle grade is
it's just you and the reader. No one
else is paying attention. And these readers are so open-minded and
open-hearted; they don't have preconceived ideas of what stories should do or
how they should work. So you have that much more freedom.
I'd been thinking for a while about
trying to write a fantasy that got at the experience of having Asperger's in
some way. My son's experience of the world is completely strange to me; I can't
comprehend what it is like to be him. Really, I had all these elaborate ideas
about making the experience of the fantasy world feel like having Asperger's,
but in the end it became writing about this boy who doesn't feel like he's made
the same way as everyone else. And while he is a child that would be diagnosed
as on the spectrum today, I think everyone can relate to that feeling.
I was very scared about the idea of
trying to write an Asperger's character. I didn't want to get it wrong. And
there are so many stereotypes out there--I think a lot of popular depictions of
autism are more stereotype than character. People with autism can be very
empathetic, very sensitive, very imaginative, but you would never know it by
the way they are portrayed.
As I was writing, though, all that
seemed to matter was Oscar; he was who he was. You can't worry and write; you
just have to let your characters be who they are going to be.
I tend to fly pretty blind when
writing--I start with the characters and a few loose ideas and see what
happens. Generally, the story reveals
itself--narrative has it's own imperatives--and once I got going it seemed
clear what would have to happen: The world had become corrupt, and no one was
going to be able to step outside the system and see what needed to happen
except for the children. As adults we sometimes have this idea that stories for
kids are supposed to end prettily, happily ever after. But I think the real job
of middle grade isn't to tell kids that the world is all okay, but that they
are okay, that they have the ability and power to change things for the better.
I love writing fantasy because you
get to take someone's internal life and build this entire world around it,
taking the internal and manifesting it externally. Oscar thinks he's very safe
in his small life, and so of course the book has to pull him out of the cellar
and throw him into the big world. I tried to reflect his issues in those of the
world at large--so as he struggles with his own imperfection, the adults are
striving for perfection, and the events of the book come to question both of
these concepts. And everything that Oscar faces has to challenge him
specifically, his specific monsters need to come to literal life. And by facing
them, that's how he grows and changes so he can be okay.
This is a question I’m still trying to figure out; I don’t feel like I’m managing
yet. The Real Boy is the only thing I’ve
written in the last three years. When I was working on it I learned how to
create time to write (mostly at night), but I’ve spent most of the last three years not writing. The real problem
for me is accessing that creative space in my brain, the one that takes
flickers of thoughts and spins them into a story idea. My brain is so filled
with other things--I just don't think my mind has room. I've tried to build in
more structure, but it just doesn't work; it's not realistic. I just saw the
author Rainbow Rowell speak, and she said, "Your kids' entire job is to
keep you from writing." Mine's really good at his job.
I'm really interested in the way fantastic elements affect a
story for the reader, how you can create meaning through the use of magic and
the surreal. I'm trying to put together a lecture about it. I think I have two
missions in life--to convince people that fantasy is a valid form of literary
fiction, and to run around yelling AND ALSO THERE'S MIDDLE GRADE.
I wanted to recommend a few middle grade books for adults if they
are interested in exploring the literature further:
When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead
Holes by Louis Sachar
The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate
The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo
Seven Stories Up by Laurel Snyder
The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom by Christopher Healy
The Center of Everything by Linda Urban
Nightingale's Nest by Nikii Loftin
Iron-Hearted Violet by Kelly Barnhill
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