DEVELOPING THEME: Touch Blue (Post #3)

Dear Allyson,

I’m so glad you brought up the connection between subplot and theme. I had the opportunity to hear Cynthia Lord speak about theme a few years ago at the Western Washington SCBWI Conference, and I have often referenced my notes from her session when I need to work on theme.

In her presentation, Lord differentiated between subject and theme by saying that theme is what you have to say about a subject. She often phrases theme as a statement or question. For example, one of the subjects of her Newbery-honor book Rules is disability, and the theme she explores is “What is normal?”

She also explained that while themes may arise in a first draft, she doesn’t focus on them until subsequent drafts. Then, she looks for ways to enhance theme, which ultimately enriches the reading experience.

What process does she use to develop theme?

Subjects

First, she defines the subjects of her novel. Each story can have a variety of subjects. Some of the subjects of Touch Blue are friendship, belonging, luck, community, and family. These are the “big picture concerns” of the story, and in her SCBWI presentation, Lord urged writers to take the time to dig deep past the obvious possible subjects to unearth possibly more interesting subjects as well.

Aspects of Subject

Next, Lord spends time exploring different aspects and complexities of a given subject. As you noted, Allyson, belonging is a theme of Touch Blue. Here are some of the different aspects of belonging that I found in the book:

·      Everyone knows you

·      People say hi to you

·      You know who to go to for help or assistance

·      You know the history of the place or group

In fact, Aaron initially finds these first two aspects disturbing. On page 17, he says, “How come all these people already know about me?”

Thematic Question

Once you have explored various aspects of a subject, Lord says, you can develop a thematic statement or question. Ideally this question should not be easily answered but rather something that you can spend an entire novel exploring. I don’t know what Lord had in mind for the subject of belonging, but one question she might have pondered is “What happens when a new person joins a tight-knit community?”

The Shadow Side

While exploring a theme, Lord also looks at that shadow side of a subject. This could be the opposite of the subject or its absence. In the case of belonging, shadow aspects might include:

·      People don’t accept you (Eben is mean to Aaron)

·      People judge you (Mrs. Coombs’ comments on Aaron’s appearance)

·      They know all about your business

·      They gossip about you

·      You can never get away.

One prime example of the shadow side is when the postmaster ask Aaron where he’s from, and Aaron hesitates before answering, “You mean right before here?” (p. 37).

Connecting Theme to Character

In her SCBWI presentation, Lord described how writers embed theme not only in plot but in character as well. As you noted, Allyson, in your discussion of subplots, Tess is the insider and Aaron is the outsider. Their interactions and experiences play off each other, providing readers with multiple views of the issue of belonging.

Using Setting and Objects

The other way writers can deepen theme, according to Lord, is by using setting and objects. The island community of Bethsaida provides a perfect microcosm for exploring theme. There are tourists and year-round families, long-simmering rivalries and an influx of newcomers.

Music provides another example of belonging. Aaron experiences acceptance through his music. When he plays at the Fourth of July picnic, he connects with the islanders. Unfortunately, the cruel note (“Go home! Oops, you can’t. Right, orphan?”) that he finds inside his music book also reminds him that he doesn’t belong.

Theme truly deepens a reader’s experience with a book, but it often seems a bit daunting when starting on a project. I really appreciated learning Lord’s process for developing theme through the revision process. Touch Blue provides a great resource for exploring aspects of subject and theme.

StorySleuths Tip #100: In revision, develop theme by exploring a question about one of your books subjects. Don’t forget to consider the shadow side of your theme. Plot, character, setting, and objects all provide opportunities to deepen theme.

INTERVIEW WITH GRACE LIN: Where the Mountain Meets the Moon Post #7

After reading and examining Where the Mountain Meets the Moon last month, we StorySleuths had some questions about writing process and writing techniques that we couldn’t answer from the text itself. So we asked author Grace Lin if she would answer our questions for us, and she graciously agreed. We’re grateful for her responses, which we are posting below, as they gave us insight into the special considerations and challenges she faced in writing Where the Mountain Meets the Moon.

1. Were all of the stories based on traditional folktales or did you write some from scratch?

The stories were a hybrid. A lot of them were based on traditional tales that I tweaked here and there, embellishing myths that were little more than a line. For example, at Chinese New Year, it is common to find pictures of two plump children dressed in red decorating doorways. These children are called Da-A-Fu. Why? I researched and only found a very short summary of them: they were two spirits transformed as children sent to destroy a green monster that was terrorizing a village. There were no details of how or why or what village, but it was enough to spark my imagination. So with that, I created the twin characters of A-Fu and Da-Fu in Where the Mountain Meets the Moon who destroy the Green Tiger.

2. At first it seems like the stories are independent stand-alones but clearly they are tightly interwoven--seemingly unimportant details become significant, minor characters reappear in larger roles--what process did you use to weave it all together?

Not a very organized one! Every time I wrote a story I would think, does this have a purpose with the rest of the plot? If there were at least 2 threads that could tie it to the larger story then I kept it. If there weren’t, I cut it. It was really just a lot of obsessive thinking.

3. We were so taken by the ending. We always hear that refrain that the ending should be a surprise, and yet inevitable. When Minli got to the old man and he would only answer one question -- wow! Of course! It was just perfect. We wonder at what point you knew what the ending would be.

I knew the ending about the questions before I wrote the book. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon is very loosely based on a folktale called "Olive Lake," though I changed it quite a bit. In the folktale, the main character is only allowed to ask the God of the West a limited amount of questions, so the structure was already there! All the additional ending elements--Fruitless Mountain turning fruitful, etc, I had planned before I started writing as well--I like to have kind of an end goal so I know where I am going when I write.

However, one also has to be flexible as they write too! For me, all the storylines with the Book of Fortune and the Secret of Happiness came pretty late and those, I think, are the real heart of the ending.

4. What was your revision process like?

I actually enjoy revision. It's writing the first draft, that initial output, that kills me! And my editor, Alvina Ling, is not only my editor but a great friend so I really trust her opinions on my writing...and she understands when my writing is quite rough.

But I don't really have a clear organized process. I write the first draft the best I can, send it to Alvina and wait for her response. Usually she has a really good idea of what to do with it and then I get to work. I like the retooling of the story; I feel like revision is when the story really starts to sing. After my first draft of Where the Mountain Meets the Moon she told me I needed at least 10 more chapters and I should show the parents' side of the story. I cringed at the 10 more chapters but showing the parents' side was an idea of genius!

5. What was the most challenging aspect of writing this book?

This was a very emotionally challenging book for me. I think the best way to explain why would be just to direct you to the speech I read at the Josette Frank Award.

6. Could you share one writing tip that you learned in the process of writing Where the Mountain Meets the Moon?

With Where the Mountain Meets the Moon there were so many story lines that I was afraid that things might get lost on the reader. So after each major change my editor had other people in house read it and I had other friends read it to make sure things were clear. I really learned the value of a fresh reader! Sometimes it's important to have someone who knows nothing about the story, someone who is not even a writer, read the story, just to make sure it hangs together--though I would suggest using them only towards the end—when you are fine-tuning, not at early draft stage!

Many thanks, Grace, for your writing and for your articulate explanations of how you researched, structured and created Where the Mountain Meets the Moon. We are looking forward to reading your books that are currently in the works—especially the two companion books to Where the Mountain Meets the Moon—Return to Sky and Needle at Sea Bottom!

StorySleuths’ Tip # 75: With thanks to Grace Lin: “Sometimes it's important to have someone who knows nothing about the story, someone who is not even a writer, read the story, just to make sure it hangs together--though I would suggest using them only towards the end—when you are fine-tuning, not at early draft stage!”

DEVELOPING THEME: Where the Mountain Meets the Moon #5

Dear Meg and Allyson,

When I wrote my previous posting on how Grace Lin develops Minli’s desire and motivation early in Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, I thought a lot about the connection between character yearning and theme.

Elizabeth Lyon, author of one of my favorite books on craft, Manuscript Makeover: Revision Techniques No Fiction Writer Can Afford to Ignore, says “Theme is your novel’s message.” She elaborates:

Less simply put, theme is the abstract equivalent of the protagonist’s universal need fashioned into a statement of what he or she has come to learn. The theme states the personal growth or character change that completes the inner story arc. It has not been separate from the plot but has entwined with it. (pp. 212-213)

Minli’s character growth and the lesson she learns as a result of her journey in Where the Mountain Meets the Moon illustrate Lyon’s point. Let’s look at how theme emerges in the novel.

Want vs. Need

Minli’s goal—what she wants—is to find the Old Man of the Moon to ask him how to change her family’s fortune. This desire drives Minli’s actions, and each step she takes on her journey moves her closer to accomplishing her goal. In other words, this desire is the external conflict that propels the plot forward.

However, as she travels, she also experiences emotional responses that, over time, reveal a conflicting internal need. As much as Minli wants to accomplish her goal, she also misses her parents back home. For example, one night, she can’t fall asleep:

With pangs of guilt, she thought about how Ba and Ma pushed her to go home early from the field, how her rice bowl was always the first filled, how every night when she went to sleep in her warm bed she knew they were there… (p. 159)

While she naturally misses the comforts of home and the security of her parents’ company, she also develops a new appreciation for them. Her encounters with the people she meets on her journey force her to think in new ways. The same night she thinks about her parents, she reflects on the orphaned buffalo boy she met in the City of Bright Moonlight.

The buffalo boy didn’t have [what Minli had]. Instead, he had a dirt floor, a pile of grass for his bed, a muddy buffalo, and a secretive friend. Yet her turned away her copper coin and laughed in the sun. Minli couldn’t quite understand it, and, somehow, felt ashamed. (p. 159)

Minli’s emotional reaction to the separation from her parents reveals what Elizabeth Lyon might call a “hole in the soul” (p. 207). And the encounter with the buffalo boy leaves Minli in a state of confusion, wondering how he can be so happy when he has even less than she does.

The internal need propels character growth. Minli’s confusion about the buffalo boy’s apparent happiness illustrates a step in her emotional change in the middle of her journey.

Two Sides of the Same Coin

In addition to using character growth to develop aspects of the theme, Lin also uses the cast of characters to build thematic echoes. For example, at the beginning of the book, Minli and Ma both suffer from discontentment and frustration with their life of poverty. Neither likes to work so hard all the time.

However, Ma’s discontentment is deep-rooted, and she is pessimistic that her fortune will ever change. Minli, on the other hand, is driven by curiosity as well as faith in the stories her father tells. Ma and Minli show two characters with the same problem but different outlooks.

Elizabeth Lyon says,

To produce unity and coherence, as well as one theme, don’t give each point of view character a yearning divergent with the protagonist’s yearning. Craft yearnings that are supportive and parallel, or opposite but related (p. 210).

The Moment of Epiphany

The theme becomes clear when Minli at last meets the Old Man of the Moon. She can ask just one question, and she must choose between her own question (how to change her family’s fortune) and Dragon’s question (why can’t he fly?). She catches sight of the word written on the borrowed line. It says, “Thankfulness.” That word tells her everything she needs to know. She poses the question about why Dragon cannot fly.

Ma reaches her moment of epiphany at the same time, as revealed in the story she tells in the very next chapter. Her realization is more explicit than Minli’s. Ma says, “For all the time that she had been longing for treasures, she had already the one most precious” (p. 254).

By showing two characters reaching the same conclusion, Lin allows readers first the opportunity to infer the book’s theme independently while then reinforcing it afterwards in a more explicit way.

Returning to Lyon’s explanation of theme earlier, where theme “states the personal growth or character change that completes the inner story arc,” we can see the change in Minli: she recognizes the fortune she always had in her own family, and that recognition leads to gratitude. Translated into a more abstract statement, the theme might be “Be grateful” or “The love of family is more valuable than material wealth.”

StorySleuths Tip #72: Theme emerges from character change or growth. Use emotional reactions, reflections, parallel stories, and secondary characters to build toward a moment of understanding or epiphany. 

THEME: Charles & Emma

When we read Claire Rudolf Murphy’s passionate recommendation for Charles and Emma on The Storyteller’s Inkpot, a blog produced by faculty members of Hamline University’s MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults, we were curious to learn more so we invited Claire to join our conversation about the book here.


Dear Heather,

Since I raved about Charles and Emma a few weeks ago on our Hamline blog, The Storyteller’s Inkpot, you invited me to write a post for your blog this month. This book did indeed knock my socks off. I even called it sexy. Sexy in that it grabs you from the first page with Charles Darwin’s thoughts of marriage and keeps you focused, turning pages. Many of us adults have been in that marriage quandary. Teen readers may be wondering if they ever will.

Hundreds of books have been written about Darwin, including his own The Origin of Species, published in 1859, twenty-one years after his wedding. But none have ever focused on Darwin's relationship with his devout Christian wife Emma. And that is what makes this book high concept nonfiction. It reads like a great novel. Indeed they do marry. But the promise revealed in the first chapter is carried all the way through: How can you love someone who doesn't believe like you do?

So Heather, when you asked me to post more reflections on this book, I am now several weeks removed from my first study of it. I so admire the way all three of you have discussed and dissected craft in this and other books and included tips for writers of all ages. My discussion is more wide-ranging, but mainly it focuses on theme, the heart of the book and where it came from.

What has stayed with me is how relevant this book’s theme still is today. We still live in a culture of believers and nonbelievers, evolutionists and creationists. If Charles and Emma figured out how to live and love peacefully, then can’t we all respect our differences? It’s gotten so ugly, even violent nowadays.

Heiligman found her theme for Darwin’s life by exploring his relationship with something she cared passionately about - religion. A religious studies' major in college, she’s been thinking and studying about religion and spirituality for decades.

Some editors would say, “Steer away from such a controversial topic. We don’t want to turn off readers.” But don’t we all respect a fair debate, a meeting of the minds or not? That’s what Heiligman presents for us readers – a way to disagree and still get along. She confronts the elephant in the room, and readers like me are cheering her on.

Modern politics and religion have lost this polite discourse, and we are the poorer for it. It’s often said that a writer’s perspective on history is influenced more by the culture of her day, than by the historical setting she is writing about.

What about the rest of your readers? Did it hit you the same way? Wow – Heiligman takes on this hot topic subject that we’re still going at today and likely will until the end of human time.

Maybe one aspect that makes this tricky subject readable is that Darwin didn’t ram his beliefs down his wife’s throat. He waited twenty years to publish it, for fear of its reception in Christian England, and what it would do to his family. Christian Emma supported non-believer Charles every step of the way, in spite of worrying that they would not be together in heaven. But in the end, it wasn’t the big issue of religion that challenged them the most, but rather illness and death and the small challenges of daily life.

By waiting and revising over that many years, Darwin’s book became stronger, and so did their relationship. What a lesson for us all. Give it time – whether a book, a loved one, a cause we believe in.

Not only was Heiligman a religious studies major, she met her scientist husband in college. In her acknowledgements she notes that she never would have written this book without the years of discussions between them about the intersection between religion and science. She couldn’t have written that high concept nonfiction book without her own life experiences.

I believe that is what we are asked to do as writers: tap deeply into what we know about people and life at such a deep level that it rings true for readers, whether fiction or nonfiction. Maybe not for twenty years, but time enough for the story to season and grow.

Claire

Claire Rudolf Murphy is the author of seventeen books of fiction and nonfiction for children and young adults, including Children of Alcatraz: Growing Up on the Rock; Daughters of the Desert: Remarkable Women of the Christian, Jewish and Muslim Traditions; Children of the Gold Rush and the upcoming picture book Susan B., Mama and B. She has an M.F.A. in creative writing from the University of Alaska in Fairbanks and is a member of the Hamline University MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults faculty. You can learn more about her books at http://clairerudolfmurphy.com/.

StorySleuths Tip #58: Tap deeply into what we know about people and life at such a deep level that it rings true for readers, whether fiction or nonfiction.

EPIGRAPHS AND LITERARY REFERENCES: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate

Hi Allyson and Heather,

I love epigraphs and literary references in the context of a novel. Maybe it’s the bargain hunter in me—I feel like I’m getting added value—being introduced to the thinking, vision, or insight of one writer through the eyes of another one.

Epigraphs

Most often, if there’s an epigraph, there’s only one, at the beginning of a book. So I was thrilled to find epigraphs at the beginning of every single chapter of The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate. All the epigraphs are from Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species and reading them inspired me not only reserve a copy of Darwin’s book at the library, but also got me wondering why Jacqueline Kelly selected each epigraph and how the epigraphs functioned in the structure of the novel.

According to Wikipedia, “in literature, an epigraph is a phrase, quotation or poem that is set at the beginning of a document or component. The epigraph may serve as a preface, as a summary, as a counter-example, or to link the work to a wider literary canon either to invite comparison or to enlist a conventional context.” As might be expected, the Wikipedia examples are not from books for children. However, on occasion epigraphs are included in books for children, and when they are, I take notice.

For example, our first StorySleuths book, which we investigated way back in October, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, includes this epigraph: “There is another world, but it is in this one. W.B. Yeats.” It “links the work to a wider literary canon” and “invites comparison” of Junior’s worlds in and beyond the rez. Awesome, isn’t it?

Turning to the epigraphs in The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, I discovered that they serve many functions, including those listed below.

1. Foreshadowing. The Chapter 1 epigraph refers to a “young naturalist” (p. 1), foreshadowing Callie’s initiation into the ranks of “naturalist.” Grandfather says, “You’re a regular naturalist in the making” and Callie wonders, “What, exactly, was a naturalist? I wasn’t sure, but I decided to spend the rest of my summer being one.” (p. 8)

2. Comparison. The Chapter 2 epigraph includes the statement, “the child often reverts in certain characters to its grandfather” (p. 22)—Callie, like her Granddaddy, observes the wildlife around her.

3. Humor. The Chapter 5 epigraph notes Natural Selection is “immeasurably superior to man’s feeble efforts” (p. 54), a reference to Granddaddy’s “feeble efforts” to distill “drinkable liquor.”

4. Contrast. Chapter 7’s epigraph notes that sometimes someone with a “monstrous character” may emerge from a race of the “same species” (p. 73)—Callie notes that Harry’s “young woman” was “a hag, a stooping harpy….” (p. 74) and a member of the Independent Church, which was not “acceptable” (p. 75), so Grandfather dispatches her with a “good talk” in the library (p. 92).

5. Emphasis. “The crust of the earth is a vast museum” (p. 94), the epigraph for Chapter 8, emphasizes the importance of each living, and previously living, thing that Callie encounters—the stuffed armadillo, the trilobite fossil, the bottled cuttlefish, the microscopic river creatures, and especially the discovery of the hairy vetch with the odd dependent leaf. Best of all, Callie discovers “another member of my own odd species living at the other end of the hall. There was a living treasure under our roof, and none of my brothers could see him” (p. 102). Callie is discovering that her world is a vast museum stuffed with treasures.

6. Allusion. Chapter 9’s epigraph refers to the “caterpillar or cocoon stage,” (p. 112) of Callie’s woolly caterpillar “pet” Petey, but also alludes to her developing past the “grub stage” of “human children” (p. 115), as she herself is metamorphosizing.

7. Thematic resonance. Taken together, the 28 epigraphs initiating the chapters anchor the story in the theme of Callie’s evolution. Her relationships with Granddaddy and other members of her family, her awareness of the natural world around her, and her own self-knowledge evolve throughout the book, and her growth and change are echoed in the theory of evolution that Darwin had published in what was her fairly recent past.

Literary References

Although quotations from The Origin of Species are the predominant literary references in The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, other literary references enrich the text as well. One of my favorites is the quotation from Plato that Granddaddy shares with Callie when she responds with surprise to her first glimpse of microscopic creatures: “all science begins with astonishment” (p. 105). Callie refers to a familiar story when she describes her struggles with her knitting:

“I fancied that a malevolent Rumplestiltskin crept into my room at night and undid my best work, turning the gold of my efforts into pathetic dross on a wheel perversely spinning backward.” (p. 213)

As The Origin of Species was the literary touchstone for The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, A Wrinkle in Time was the literary touchstone for November’s StorySleuths selection, When You Reach Me. Rebecca Stead clarified the central focus of Madeleine L’Engle’s book in an Amazon.com interview, saying "What I love about L’Engle’s book now is how it deals with so much fragile inner-human stuff at the same time that it takes on life’s big questions. There’s something fearless about this book."

Other literary references in books I love include lines in Wordsworth’s poem, Ode: Intimations of Immortality: “Trailing clouds of glory do we come…” (p. 38) in The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson, and the literary touchstone of the story of Little Red Riding Hood in Number the Stars by Lois Lowry.

What epigraphs and literary references in children’s books inspire you?

In Take Joy: A Writer’s Guide to Loving the Craft, Jane Yolen says, “Be prepared for serendipity.” She continues:

How does a writer organize luck? In a variety of ways. Perhaps a file of articles or quotations. Perhaps a stack of books from a secondhand shop on various fascinating subjects.” (p. 75)

As Rebecca Stead was inspired by A Wrinkle in Time and Jacqueline Kelly mined The Origin of Species and Katherine Paterson nourished Gilly through the power of Wordsworth’s images and Annemarie keeps telling herself the story of Little Red Riding Hood, I consider what epigraph(s) and/or literary references might illuminate the story of my WIP.

StorySleuths Tip # 53—Add serendipity to your story—consider including epigraph(s) and/or literary references to offer your readers added value and to give resonance to your theme.

THE EVOLUTION OF CALPURNIA TATE: Writing about Nature

Dear Meg and Allyson,

What a beautiful, early spring day here in the Pacific Northwest! Indulge me for a moment as I share the view outside my window: a blue, blue sky that reminds me of summer; the lacy, pale pink blossoms of a cherry tree; on the fence, two crows bickering like an old married couple; and an eagle soaring high and alone above it all.

A perfect day for a hike or picnic.

Alas, I’m inside, typing at my computer. The irony is that my topic for today is how Jacqueline Kelly incorporates nature into her middle grade novel, The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate.

The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate

The story begins in the middle of a heat wave in Fentress, Texas. “By 1899, we had learned to tame the darkness but not the Texas heat,” eleven-year-old Calpurnia narrates (p. 1).

The triple-digit weather is so hot that it forces worms into hiding, so that Calpurnia’s brothers can’t find bait for fishing. It brings out fireflies every night for a “spectacular show.” Trails of ants invade the kitchen in search of water. And a new form of grasshopper appears:

huge bright yellow ones, twice as big [as the usual green ones], and torpid, so waxy and fat that they bowed down the grasses when they landed (p. 11).

Calpurnia wonders about these yellow grasshoppers. Where did they come from? Were they an entirely new species? These questions lead her into a new relationship with her grandfather, who shares her affinity for the natural world.

As Calpurnia spends time with her grandfather, she learns about observation, nature, and science. Her new passion for science brings her into direct conflict with her parents’ and society’s expectations for a young girl of means. What will the future hold for Calpurnia?

Kindred Spirits

Reading about Calpurnia’s adventures in Texas reminded me of another spirited girl, Anne Shirley from L. M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables books. I adored this series as a child, in part because of Anne’s overwhelming enthusiasm for the landscape around her home on Prince Edward Island, in Canada.

Here, at the beginning of the story, Anne drives through the Avenue toward her new home.

The ‘Avenue,’ so called by the Newbridge people, was a stretch of road four or five hundred yards long, completely arched over with huge, wide-spreading apple trees…. Overhead was one long canopy of snowy, fragrant bloom. Below the boughs the air was full of a purple twilight and far ahead a glimpse of painted sunset sky shone like a great rose window at the end of a cathedral aisle. Its beauty seemed to strike the child dumb. She leaned back in the buggy, her thin hands clasped before her, her face lifted rapturously to the white splendor above (p. 24-25).

When Anne recovers from the beauty of the blooming trees, she immediately scorns the Avenue’s prosaic name, calling it instead “The White Way of Delight.”

Many people believe that children (as well as adults) skim over descriptions of nature and landscape in books, preferring to read action and dialogue. But I loved reading about the trees and flowers in Anne of Green Gables when I was a child, in part, I suppose, because Anne’s enthusiasm and love for nature was so infectious.

Writing about nature

Because people do tend to gloss over long descriptive passages in novels, writing about nature can be tricky. How do authors like Jacqueline Kelly and L. M. Montgomery maintain the reader’s interest?

1. Nature appears through the viewpoint character’s eyes. Calpurnia observes the animals and plants that live around her house, such as the possum that sleeps in a hole near her room. She even observes the ridges along the top of the mouth of a sleeping dog. In the novel, nature is up-close, and something as common as the family dog inspires curiosity and amazement.
2. Interactions with nature provide opportunities to reveal emotion. Anne Shirley feels awe in the presence of natural beauty. Likewise, using a microscope for the first time, Calpurnia is shocked to discover “a teeming, swirling world of enormous, wriggling creatures” in pond water.
3. Nature connects to the novel on a thematic level. By observing nature, Calpurnia develops deeper awareness of her world. Granddaddy looks at the entries in her nature journal and remarks, “It’s amazing what you can see when you just sit quietly and look” (p. 35).
4. Descriptions of nature enrich the language itself. In The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, Kelly develops nature-oriented metaphors. For example, the men who shave their beards to combat the heat “ looked as naked as blind salamanders” (p. 3). When Calpurnia overhears her mother’s plan to train her as a proper young lady, she feels like a “coyote with her paw in the trap” (p. 220). In addition to revealing Calpurnia’s character, these metaphors build a sense of story unity.

Donald Maas in The Fire in Fiction says,

It is impossible to powerfully capture a place via objective description—at least, to capture it in a way that readers will not skim. Only through the eyes and heart of a character does a place truly come alive (p. 113).

Fentrees, Texas comes to life through Calpurnia’s unique point of view.

Nature as a subject

I’d like to veer away from specific writing techniques for a moment to consider the importance of nature and science as subjects of The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate. Did you know there’s a movement of people who believe that children today suffer from Nature-Deficit Disorder?

I don’t presume to guess Jacqueline Kelly’s opinion about children’s connection to nature. However, I do believe that books like The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate and Anne of Green Gables provide inspiring examples of how to interact with and respond to nature. While neither has an overt “message” about the importance of nature or the environment, they feature characters who interact with nature on an intimate, engaged level, with emotions that range from curiosity to awe.

Like the big questions in Marcelo in the Real World, nature matters in The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate. Phillip Gerard, author of Writing a Book That Makes a Difference, says, “The writer owes the reader a large experience—one that will increase his imaginative grasp. One way to deliver this is to recognize the obvious: Subject matter matters” (p. 34).

StorySleuths Tip #52: Bring the natural world to life by revealing it through the character’s perceptions and emotions.

BIG QUESTIONS: Marcelo in the Real World

In her blog post about her first reading of the manuscript that became Marcelo in the Real World, editor Cheryl Klein described what impressed her in one of the scenes in which Marcelo and Rabbi Heschel are talking together:

It was the ambition of it, the way it reached for the Big Questions and caught them. It was the reality and humanity of it—that I could genuinely believe this anguished young man in the button-up shirt and this older woman in the neon-green-framed glasses lived and thought and felt up somewhere near Boston. And it was the way the religious issues chimed within my own heart, my own complex internal stew of Big Questions and small actions and deep longing.

There are Big Questions, all right, threaded throughout the novel. Big Questions like:

• “How do we go about living when there is so much suffering?” (p. 166)
• “Am I supposed to put my father ahead of everything?”(p. 211)
• “What if doing God’s will hurts the people we love?” (p. 279)
• “Only how is it possible to live without being either numb to [pain] or overwhelmed by it?” (p. 302)

So many questions, that Jasmine asks, “Do you always ask so many questions?” (p. 260)

I became fascinated by the way Stork, through Marcelo, asks the Big Questions, questions lurking in us all, yet the story never becomes weighted down by them. Initially Marcelo resists the Real World, yet he is thrown into it by his father’s demand that he work at the law office. Marcelo confronts the challenges he faces from a foundation anchored in religion. “My special interest is God,” he tells Jasmine on his first day working in the mailroom. “Religion. What humankind has said and thought about God. I like to read and think about that.” (p. 57)

In an interview of Francisco X. Stork posted by Martin Wilson just a few days ago, Stork discusses religion in the novel. Wilson asked:

Martin Wilson: Ideas of faith and religion run through the novel. But it’s a unique, personal kind of faith that Marcelo has. Is your faith very important to you? Were you trying to say something about religion in this novel?

FXS: Yes, my faith is very important to me. It’s what gives meaning to my life. One of the things I wanted to say about religion in the novel is that religion needs to be looked at the way Marcelo looks at it. He is interested in all religions. He is a Catholic who visits with a rabbi every week who names his dog after a Buddhist prayer. Marcelo has an innate sense of the universality of all religions.

In his book The Fire in Fiction: Passion, Purpose and Techniques to Make Your Novel Great, Donald Maass says:

Originality can come only from what you bring of yourself to your story. In other words, originality is not a function of your novel; it is a quality of you.

Later, he adds,

Where so many manuscripts go wrong is that, if they do not outright imitate, they at least do not go far enough in mining the author's experience for what is distinctive and personal. So many manuscripts feel safe. They do not force me to see the world through a different lens. (p. 133)

Marcelo thinks about right and wrong, good and evil, love and hate, beauty and ugliness, trust, justice, friendship, and God—“large talk,” as opposed to “small talk” (p. 75). We look at these issues through the lens of Marcelo, and the issues are clarified. Marcelo realizes: “I can do justice for Ixtel” (p. 278). Righting wrong: that’s power.

Maass says, “Having something to say, or something you wish us to experience, is what gives your novel its power. Identify it. Make it loud. Do not be afraid of what's burning in your heart. When it comes through on the page, you will be a true storyteller.” (p. 249)

Maass suggests some exercises to help us writers focus on what’s burning in our hearts:

• What in the world of your story makes you angry? What are we not seeing? What is the most important question? What puzzle has no answer? What is dangerous in this world? What causes pain?
• Where in the world of your story is there unexpected grace? What is beautiful? Who is an unrecognized hero? What needs to be saved?
• Passion is expansive. It sweeps us up, carries us away. What is your passion? Get it into your story, especially through your characters. What angers you can anger them. What lifts them up will inspire us in turn. Ordinary people don't need to be bland. They can be poets, prophets and saints. Their world is a microcosm. Why else are you writing about it? (p. 250)


I’ll give the last word to Stork, from an interview posted by Teenreads.com:

TRC: Toward the end, Rabbi Heschel gives this advice to Marcelo: “Trust the sense you have that you are traveling the right direction because, when it comes down to it, that and the ability to tell the difference between a dried-up fig and a pomegranate is all you have.” A poignant quote. What does it mean to you personally?

FXS: What it means to me personally is that I have to trust I am able to hear the “right note” if I care to listen. And then I have to trust that the “right note” is right enough for me to follow. The sense of “the right note” was placed in us for a reason, and we should make it work for us. But we are not alone. Others can help us, traditions, wise or holy persons who have traveled this path before us, all can guide us. But in the end, the ultimate test of whether the note was right is the fruit of your action. Did you increase love and lessen suffering? If you did, your note was the right note.

StorySleuths Tip # 49: Write your passion. In the words of Donald Maass, from the exercise above, “Passion is expansive. It sweeps us up, carries us away. What is your passion? Get it into your story, especially through your characters.”

UNIFYING ELEMENT: Marcelo in the Real World

Hi Allyson and Heather,

I love books that have a unifying element, like The Secret Garden, in which Mary’s growth is mirrored in the rescue and tending of the neglected garden. Stork’s choice of music as the unifying element of Marcelo in the Real World echoes Marcelo’s challenges, struggles, and growth.

At the outset, Dr. Malone is intent on understanding what Marcelo’s mental music, or “internal music”--IM for short--is like, as compared to what Tony, another doctor, calls the “real stuff”-- music “that is piped in through the speaker in the machine” (p. 2). Marcelo describes IM as “coming from inside the brain.” (p. 3) It’s an integral part of him.

As Marcelo learns more and more about the “real world,” he finds it harder and harder to access the IM:

I don’t know why it is harder to reach the place of the IM. It is impossible to listen to the IM at work even on the rare occasions without anything to do. It is like the IM is afraid to be heard for fear that it will be ridiculed. (pp. 93-94)

When Marcelo has successfully navigated the real world of the law office and friendship with Jasmine, she asks him to tell her about his internal music. He says, “…now it is harder to find it. It is almost all gone, I would say.” (p. 255) What he has found instead are the sounds of the real world, “all the sounds the lake makes. And also the sounds of Jasmine trying to fish.” (p. 255)

And later, when he is driving with Aurora to see Rabbi Heschel, he realizes “The IM has stopped. It will never come back.” He feels lost, with no “way of knowing what to do about Ixtel, about my father, about Jasmine.” (p. 268) But when he is with the rabbi he hears the music of the real world. “We both look up toward the sound of a robin’s double whistle: Pheee-Pheeeu. Pheee-Pheeeu. Pheee-Pheeeu” (p. 271) Music is a metaphor for Marcelo’s growing connection with the real world.

Stork uses musical references throughout the novel not only to reflect Marcelo’s growth, but to define the characters in relation to one another. The music of Marcelo’s world is very different from that of his father’s--when Marcelo is with his father at the gym, Marcelo notes, “there is a white speaker above us blasting popular music.” (p. 97). Marcelo refers to the music as “strident,” reflecting his disconnect with his father—he would rather lift weights, but Arturo wants to have a “chat about how things are going.” (p. 97).

Stork also uses music references to clarify setting. For example, when Marcelo arrives in Lawrence to visit Ixtel he

begins to see more and more signs in Spanish—storefronts, restaurants. The beat of Latin music fills the air. (p. 192)

Musical instruments add tone to the settings. In Jasmine’s studio apartment, “At the end of the bed, on the side closest to where we stand, is an electric keyboard that I can tell has all eighty-eight keys of a regular piano” (p. 144). In Robert Seely’s house Marcelo notices a “red battery-operated keyboard that contains only eight keys” (p. 202). The piano in Jasmine’s childhood home is the only acoustic piano in the book: “Jasmine comes out to the living room where I am standing by an upright mahogany piano.” (p. 225) It has a “mellow sound,” and it is “in tune,” foreshadowing Marcelo’s decision to go to Vermont after he graduates, where he can play “his counterpoint.” (p. 311)

Even music-related props serve a function in the story. Take headphones, for example. Sometimes headphones define characters--in his tree house Marcelo says: “On the desk I have a CD player, headphones, and my laptop” (p. 26). Other times they link characters together--as Marcelo scans the mail room, even before Jasmine has spoken to him, he notices the larger wooden desk in the room “has a white CD player with headphones connected to it” (p. 48). And headphones even serve to differentiate characters—“Sometimes I wonder what Belinda was like and whether Jasmine would put her headphones on if Belinda were working here instead of me” (p. 75).

Music illuminates the theme of the book. When Marcelo asks Jasmine, “How do I know the next note is the right one?” she responds: “The right note sounds right and the wrong note sounds wrong.” (p. 169) Marcelo remembers this conversation when he’s sitting with Jerry Garcia, wondering what he will say when the lawyer asks him why he has come.

"The right note sounds right and the wrong note sounds wrong,” I remember Jasmine saying. And so I listen carefully now and try to detect what I hear inside, trying to listen for the note. (p. 187)

At the lake, when Marcelo has made a decision with regard to Ixtel, he says, “I hear the right note. I recognize the wrong note.” (p. 253) And at the end of the story, when Jasmine says that he has to make sure he comes to Vermont for the right reason, Marcelo replies:

“It has to be the right note.”
“Yes, in the overall piece.”
“But how do I know the next note is the right one?”
"The right note sounds right,” she says, laughing. (p. 312)

Marcelo says that Aurora used to watch him sort the daily mail, and that she sometimes could not figure out his logic.

It must have been hard [for her] to find the one unifying element amongst many possible ones. (p. 152)

Stork selected music as the unifying element of his novel. It’s an apt choice, as Marcelo comes to understand and appreciate the melodies of the real world and grows into a harmonious relationship with Jasmine towards an ending that still resonates after the final chord.

StorySleuths Tip #46: Choose a unifying element that is integral to the story, then use references to that unifying element to clarify characters, setting and theme.