Interview with Karen Cushman: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post # 7)

We StorySleuths are delighted that Karen Cushman, in addition to being a gifted and prolific writer, is an articulate speaker about her own writing process. Having heard her present at the SCBWI Western Washington SCBWI May meeting, we—along with many others—hope that at some point she will write a book about writing for children. In the meantime, we asked her to respond to some questions about writing Alchemy and Meggy Swann, and she graciously agreed.

1. In your May presentation, you described your writing process as “getting the character from here to there.” You mentioned that on occasion you go back and add action to liven the story up, and we are wondering if you can think of an example where you added action to the story of Meggy to “liven it up.”

The scene in the print shop where the fine gentleman talks to Meggy about the baron and her ballad was at first a short, straightforward give-and-take, but there was no tension or drama in it. Adding more confrontational dialogue and a few actions and gestures heightened the sense of danger and Meggy's anxiety and made the scene much more lively.

2. In the webcast about your writing that was recorded at TOPS school in Seattle in May [NOTE to StorySleuths readers—unfortunately the interview is no longer available online], you mentioned that you find the names of your characters in many sources, including your imagination. One source you mentioned is a book about a queen’s expenses and the names of the trades people recorded there. As a “Meg myself, I’m wondering if Meggy had any special connotations for you? I also wonder if her surname intentionally echoes the image of the ugly ducking who becomes a beautiful swan?

Here's the first answer I wrote to this question: "I wish had thought of the duckling to swan metaphor. I might have made more of it. But I didn't. I played around with ideas for the main characters name to see what sounded and fit her best. She was Bessie Blount at first and progressed through many alterations until I hit upon Meggy Swann. I

liked the sound of it, and Meggy was born." But then I found this comment in an interview I gave about a year ago: "She was Bessie Blunt and then Meggy Blunt and then as I wrote about her, the idea of an ugly duckling growing to be a swan led me to Swann." So there you are. You cannot trust a fiction writer. We make up stories even when we're trying to tell the truth. So which is truth and which the story? Ah, that's another question.

3. You have done a fantastic job of creating characters that are memorable and distinct. Did you have a clear picture of Meggy before you started writing, or did she evolve as the story unfolded?

Meggy definitely grew and changed as the story unfolded. Somewhere about a year into it, I titled a draft "Feisty Meggy," and it was there that I began to make her less meek and pliable and more like the Meggy we know.



And her wabbling came about because she had to have a big, serious, important reason to want to be transformed. I began to research types of disabilities. I had to know exactly what was wrong with Meggy, even though she didn't. I decided she had bilateral hip dysplasia, looked into the effects of that, and practiced walking the way she might have in order to describe it as accurately as I could.

4. What changes and revisions in the text did your editor suggest? Were there changes that your editor suggested that you both decided, after considering them, not to make in the final text?

Dinah thought there should be more focus on romantic feelings between Meggy and Roger. "After all," she said, "Juliet was only 13." Ah, said I, but Juliet is fiction. And I quoted extensively from academic sources that estimated the average age of marriage in the Elizabethan era at 26 for men and 23 for women. Men, after all, had to be able to support a wife and family. And celibacy was the only truly effective means of birth control. So Dinah, with a sigh, gave in.



But she prevailed in her suggestion that I cut some of the description. I wanted to use rollicking, roiling words to describe every house, person, business, piece of flotsam or jetsam in the crazy, chaotic city. She convinced me that enough was enough.



And see also the answer to question 7.

5. There are such rich details in Alchemy and Meggy Swann that set the character very firmly in Elizabethan London. We are curious about the kind of research you did to accomplish this. Did the story change in any way as a direct result of the research you did?

In one of the books I was reading about Elizabethan England, I found references to the vagabond laws. I did more research on them and discovered that even players might be considered vagabonds or outlaws if they did not have some noble patron. And so Grimm and Merryman's troubles were born.



And in another book I found the term "dancing house." More research. I decided to add such a place to the narrative and that led eventually to Meggy's desire to dance and, at the very end, Meggy dancing.



6. Was there is a particular element of writing craft that you struggled with, and if so, how did you overcome it?



Plot. Always plot. I read about writing graphs and narrative arcs and such tools for enlivening a plot. They never seem to fit the story I am trying to tell. I seem to wallow in character and setting and struggle with a plot, with telling versus withholding, with hero versus adversary. I don't think I ever really overcome it. I take my characters and put them into a setting, lay out the trajectory of the story, and go.

7. As writers ourselves we often find ourselves going down a path in the story only to find out that it is not a place that enriches the story as we had hoped and so we cut it. Were there any scenes you wrote that you really loved, but they just didn't fit into the story?

I cut, not without a few tears, the first two chapters, which dealt with Meggy at her village home, the ride into London with her kindly Uncle Ott, and her first impressions of the town. Like this, when they begin to cross the bridge into London: [quote]

What woke her was the stink, a sour stew of fish, sewage, horses, and sweat. Short of Hell, she wondered, what kind of place would smell like this?

Or was it the cursing coming from her uncle on the wagon seat beside her...The wheels as they turned churned the mud and cow droppings on the bridge into a great mucky sludge.

No, it was the muck that woke her, she thought. Certes it was the muck, a wad of which flew up and hit her cheek. Yes, definitely the muck. She wiped her face with her skirt and looked around at the people, animals, and wagons crowded about me. “Is this London then, Uncle?” she asked.

“Ah, no, Meggy, my heart’s love, my lily-faced poppet,” said my uncle. “’Tis but the bridge, the gateway to the wonders that are London.”

“Somewhat unwholesome wonders belike, Uncle,” she said as the turning wheels splashed more muck onto her.[end quote]

Dinah convinced me this all was backstory and the story really started with Meggy in the little house in London bemoaning her fate,

8. Could you share one Writing Tip that you learned in the process of writing Alchemy and Meggy Swann?

Bring action to description. Don't just paint a picture of a scene but put someone doing something into it. Early on, for example, I had many paragraphs describing peddlers on the crowded streets of London. It was great description but lifeless. When I lessened the number of peddlers and had them move and shout and interact with Meggy, they came to life.

Thank you, Karen. For more information about Karen and her books, visit her website.

StorySleuths Tip # 91: With thanks to Karen Cushman: “Bring action to description. Don’t just paint a picture of a scene but put someone doing something into it.”

TRANSITIONS: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post # 6 of 6)

Dear Heather and Meg,


In my own writing I am working on transitions—how do I smoothly cut from one scene to another within a chapter? How do I keep my transitions from bogging down the pacing? Here, I will point out a couple of techniques I noticed in reading Alchemy and Meggy Swann.

#1 Passage of time sets up a transition

On page 12, Meggy has been left by Roger to spend her first night in the skinny house at Crooked Lane. The encounter between Roger and Meggy ends when she, “pulled her cloak over her head and settled back into her nightmares.

The very next paragraph opens with, “Morning came at last, as it ever does.” From here Meggy goes on to experience her second day in London. By having Meggy fall asleep, then wake up, Cushman sets up for a transition from one scene to the next. She does this same thing again on page 34, where one scene ends with, “She slept again, feeling not quite so alone. And thus ended Meggy’s second day in the house at the Sign of the Sun.” The next scene begins with, “She woke to soft rain.” This quick switch from night to day prepares the reader for a change in scene while keeping the story moving forward.

#2 Change in location sets up a transition

When writing a first draft, when I want my character to move to a new location for a new scene, I find that I often show the physical movement from Point A to Point B. This movement serves to interrupt the story's pacing, slowing things down. Cushman demonstrates that the movement is not necessary—just put the character on scene in whatever the next location is. Here, on page 89, Meggy is at Master Allyn’s print shop. The scene ends with, “Meggy bade them farewell, left them to their troubles, and went home to her own.”

A less experienced writer might feel a need to show Meggy hobbling for home, perhaps tossing in a little inner dialogue or conversations with strangers along the way. Instead, Cushman’s next sentence is on scene in the next location:

Her father was seated at the table, a jug of ale before him. He looked up at her, his eyes as flat and black and cold as bits of coal in his pale face.

Another example takes place on page 141, where Meggy is home alone, confronted with just how sorry her lot in life is:

She blubbered and sniveled. Finally, damp and exhausted, she wiped her nose, tied her linen cap on tighter, and hurried from the house. There was one thing she could remedy.

The next paragraph opens:

She pounded the bear’s iron paw against the Grimms’ front door, but no one answered.

Here again, Cushman doesn’t waste time showing the character moving from Point A to Point B, instead she simply puts the character on location and keeps the story flowing.

StorySleuths’ Tip # 90: To change scenes mid chapter consider a quick shift in time or location to move the story forward without slowing down the pacing.

PLAYING WITH LANGUAGE: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post # 5 of 6)

Dear Heather and Allyson,

What you said about details and about every word counting, Heather, got me thinking about the specific words that Cushman selected in writing Alchemy and Meggy Swann to (1) convey the historical time/setting, and (2) develop the characters.

Some of the unusual words, like “gallimaufry” (p. 4), “fishwife” (p. 4), and “kirtle” (p. 60), were in use in Elizabethan times but are not in common use today, while others, like “dampnified” (p. 4), “annoyous” (p. 10), and “tipsify” (p. 59), seem to have been created out of familiar words. They convey a feeling for another time by sounding old, even though they aren’t “real” words. They sound as if they could be real, though, because we recognize the root of the word, but the added syllables or suffixes are decoys Cushman has used to create the illusion of past usage.

Cushman also uses familiar words in unusual combinations to convey a feeling for the past and to delineate characters, such as Meggy’s repeated exclamation, “ye toads and vipers,” which opens the story and introduces Meggy:

“Ye toads and vipers,” the girl said, as her granny often had, “ye toads and vipers,” and she snuffled a great snuffle that echoed in the empty room. (p. 1) 

Cushman uses the phrase “ye toads and vipers” to individualize Meggy while also filling in part of her backstory--noting that “the girl” had learned the phrase from her granny establishes the connection between them at the outset. And each time “ye toads and vipers” is echoed throughout the novel we get a familiar jolt of recognition.

During a presentation that Karen Cushman made to the Western Washington Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators in May, when asked how she came up with some of the unique words that she used to push the story back to Elizabethan times, Cushman said that the Historical Thesaurus of the Oxford English Dictionary was a rich resource, as were Shakespeare’s plays, “especially for the insults.” Also, she said, “I sometimes made the structure of the sentence a bit odd” to give the story a sense of both familiarity and distance.

Cushman’s message was to be creative and stretch the limits—but not too far. I can imagine her chortling over some wonderful constructions as she wrote Alchemy and Meggy Swann. One of my favorites is this enraged outburst Meggy addressed to Roger when he turned his back on her and began walking away during one of their altercations:

“Go then, you writhled, beetle-brained knave!” she shouted. “You churl, you slug, you stony-hearted villain! May onions grow in your ears!” (p. 124)

Storysleuths’ Tip # 89: Tackle the challenge of language like a giant jigsaw puzzle, searching in reference materials (and your own imagination) to find pieces that fit together to delineate characters and clarify setting, while avoiding overloading the text with arcane, awkward words and phrases.

EVERY DETAIL MATTERS: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post #4 of 6)

Dear Meg and Allyson,

How many times have you heard an editor or writing teacher say that every detail in a novel counts? That every scene, action, description, sentence, word must contribute in some way, whether advancing the plot, deepening character, or establishing setting?

I’ve attended enough SCBWI meetings and writing conferences to have absorbed this writing edict, and yet sometimes, when I hear it proclaimed, I think, “Really? Every word? Every description? What if something extraneous slips through?”

Well, I had the opportunity this last month to compare a book where every detail matters to a book where some scenes seem, well, unnecessary.

Let’s start with the latter. I won’t name names. Suffice it to say that I picked up the latest mystery novel of a well-known author who has made a career writing fiction and non-fiction all set in a particular place, which I was planning to visit on vacation.

Now, part of the pleasure of this author’s books is the vicarious thrill of reading about beautiful settings, fabulous meals, and witty conversations, but I found myself wondering the purpose some of these scenes served. Why was the author spending so much time describing the gourmet five-course meal the protagonist ate alone during a layover? Would some detail show up later in the book? Would the character return to the restaurant later? Would he discover a clue there to help solve the crime? Alas, the answer was no. The restaurant scene had no function other than showing the character indulging in a good meal. The story would have functioned just as well without it.

I compare this to our July book, Karen Cushman’s Alchemy and Meggy Swann, where every detail seems to matter. Take, for example, the ballad sellers that appear on the streets of Elizabethan London. The first one appears on page 27:

“Come and buy,” a ballad seller called, “a new ballad of Robin Hood.”

This line is embedded within a long series of paragraphs describing Meggy’s first walk in London.

A ballad seller appears again on page 44.

“Come and buy a ballad newly made,” a passing balled seller called. “Mayhap ‘The Ballad of Good Wives’ or ‘The Lover and the Bird.’”

This time, the ballad seller is more than just one of many people on the busy street. The way he carries his papers in a backpack gives Meggy an idea about how to carry her goose, Louise, while also grasping her walking sticks.

Another ballad seller appears on page 74, and at this point, I’m beginning to think, “There were a lot of ballad sellers in London!” Soon, Meggy meets a ballad printer while on an errand for her father. And then Meggy runs into yet another ballad seller while standing outside the baron’s gate on page 130.

What a pleasant surprise (and yet not wholly unexpected) to learn, then, that the solution to Meggy’s problem relates to selling ballads! The way Cushman integrates details about ballad selling and printing, as well as Meggy’s skills with singing and language, make the climax of this story satisfying. The novel feels unified, a tightly woven tapestry where every strand counts.

Let me just conclude by saying that the ballad seller is not the only seemingly small detail that grows in importance in Alchemy and Meggy Swann. Look back at the book to references to the heads on the Tower Bridge and the issue about players needing noble patronage.

StorySleuths Tip #88: Make sure every detail matters. Look for ways to introduce important details early in the story and then re-introduce them throughout the book to create a unified effect.

ASKING QUESTIONS THROUGH INNER DIALOGUE: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post #3 of 6)

Dear Heather and Meg,

In Meg’s most recent post about Alchemy and Meggy Swann she points to one of Meggy’s problems being her loneliness—she is alone in part or all of many scenes. As a result, much of the dialogue that takes place is inner dialogue—Meggy pondering, noticing, fretting. In looking at how Karen Cushman uses this inner dialogue I became particularly interested in the way that Meggy is continually asking herself questions.

As the story gets underway, on page 2, Meggy has just arrived at what is to be her new home.

“Darkness comes late in high summer, but come it does. Meggy could see little of the room she sat in. Was there food here? A cooking pot? Wood for a fire? Would the peevish looking man—Master Peevish, she decided to call him—would he come down and give her a better welcome?”

Over the following pages Meggy asks herself questions all the time:

• What sort of place was this London? (p. 6)
• Was Master Peevish coming down? Was he sorry he had given her so poor a welcome? (p. 7)
• What was she to do to quiet her grumbling belly? (p. 13)
•Would Master Peevish come downstairs? Did he even recall she was there? Would the boy in the brown doublet come back? (p. 13)

This continues throughout the book, and I think the thing that drew my attention to it is the fact that these questions often appear in clusters. This question-asking accomplishes several things. First, it gives me, the reader, a direct line to, and constant reminder of, Meggy’s problems. Second, it creates suspense. Each of these questions demands an answer. Sometimes the answer comes right away. Sometimes Meggy wonders the same thing over a series of pages and scenes leaving both herself and the reader wondering whether or not her question will be answered and her problems solved.

Further, questions asked by the protagonist allow both the reader and the protagonist to assess progress the character is making toward accomplishing her goals. Toward the end of the book, on page 155 as the story has nearly come to its conclusion Meggy wonders, “Was she so changed? Just when had that happened, and how?” These questions allow both Meggy and the reader to stop for a moment and ponder the answers, revisiting the path that led to the main character accomplishing her goals.

StorySleuths’ Tip # 87: Allowing the protagonist to ask questions can emphasize problems, create suspense and track the character’s progress toward realizing their goals.

CHARACTER TRANSFORMATION: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post #2 of 6)

Hi Allyson and Heather,

We’ve given 13 of our posts the “characters” label--we’ve examined antagonists, minor characters, contrasting characters, character development, character wants vs. needs, putting characters under pressure, and differentiating characters through dialogue, among other character-related topics. But no matter how many times and how many ways we look at character, it seems there’s always something new to learn about character from great writers.

One of the many qualities of Karen Cushman’s writing that intrigues me is the power and immediacy of her characters. I wondered: how does Cushman entice me to care so keenly about Meggy? In rereading Alchemy and Meggy Swann, I looked for clues that might help me portray vivid characters in my own writing.

In the same way that Cushman describes the setting of Elizabethan London using various ways (the five senses, contrast, lists, and language), she defines Meggy’s problems and strengths in various ways. Cushman uses repetition, dialogue, and the five senses to clarify Meggy’s problems, and she uses action, memories and dreams to clarify Meggy’s strengths.

FOR PROBLEMS

Repetition

Meggy’s first problem is that she is alone. Her opening exclamation is a response to her aloneness:

“Ye toads and vipers,” the girl said, as her granny often had, “Ye toads and vipers,” and she snuffled a great sniffle that echoed in the empty room. She was alone…” (p.1)

Farther down the page, “alone” is echoed:

She was alone, with no one to sustain or support her.

"Alone" is echoed again in the same paragraph:

Belike Louise was on her way back out of the town with the carter, leaving the girl here frightened and hungry and alone. (p. 1-2)

And it is reechoed again, at the end of the chapter:

The dark, the cold, the strange noises, the unfriendly man who had judged her, found her wanting, and left her alone— (p. 6)

The repetition of “alone” tolls like a bell, reminding us of Meggy’s aloneness.

Dialogue

Meggy has another problem: she’s hungry. Although we’re told that she’s hungry (“frightened and hungry and alone”), her hunger is emphasized as we listen to her interact with other characters through dialogue. She calls to Roger:

“You cannot abandon me here. What am I to do here? Who will tend to me? And fetch me things to eat?” (p. 11) 

She adds:

“You will have to fetch me food.” (p. 12) 

Hearing her desperate pleas for food in her own words emphasizes the intensity of her problem.


The five senses

By using the five senses to describe Meggy’s pain and sadness, Cushman engages readers directly—we see her tears:

…tears left shining tracks like spider threads on her cheeks (p. 2),  

touch and taste them:

…she could not dash the tears away. They felt sticky on her lips, and salty. (p. 3); 

hear her singing:

…she sang, but the sound of her trembly voice in the empty room was so mournful that she stopped and sat silent while darkness grew.” (p. 4) 

and smell what comforts her:

she breathed in the familiar smell of goose and grew sleepy. (p. 6).

The strong sensory images connect us viscerally to Meggy.

FOR STRENGTHS

Action

Meggy’s transformations from hunger to eating, from loneliness to neighborliness, from pain to strength, all begin with action. Driven by hunger, Meggy sets out to buy food.

A rumble from her belly finally sent Meggy reaching for her walking sticks. (p. 24) 

At the end of this venture she takes the initiative to introduce herself to the friendly cooper:

“Margret Swann, if it please you.” Then, surprising herself, she added, “Called Meggy, if you will.” (p. 31) 

Meggy’s actions continue to get her what she longs for—friendship:

“Nay, you have a friend” (p. 57), 

food:

She sat down at the table and feasted on chicken and apple cake (p. 60),

and strength:

"I will stand, Master Printer. I am not breakable, and I be stronger than I look." And to her surprise, she realized she was. (p. 87)

Memories

In addition to action, Meggy’s memories are sources of her strength. Memories of her gran give her empathy for others and “ease her spirit.”

Her gran, soft and warm and smelling of meadow grasses and ale, had cooed at her so and sung her to sleep. Meggy let the little girls snuggle up against her, which eased her spirit just as the drink eased her bones. (p. 51)

Dreams

Meggy’s dreams lead directly to her transformation.

In her dreams she danced and ran, but only in her dreams. (p. 29)

 Suffice it to say, for those who haven’t yet finished the book, that transformation grows from Meggy’s actions, as well from the memories of her loving gran, and from her own dreams.

StorySleuths’ Tip # 86--Use all the tools in your writer’s toolbox to create complex and believable characters—including repetition, dialogue, the five senses, action, the character’s memories, and the character’s dreams, to make even radical transformation believable to readers.

IMPRESSION, ELIZABETHAN LONDON: Alchemy and Meggy Swann (Post 1 of 6)

Dear Meg and Allyson,

Last month, we read One Crazy Summer, a work of historical fiction set in Oakland, California, 1968. Now we reach back in time with our July book, Karen Cushman's new middle grade novel Alchemy and Meggy Swann, to another summer. Here it's 1573 in Elizabethan London, a city described by the protagonist as "all soot and slime, noise and stink" (p. 2).

(Quick scheduling note for those of you planning your summer reading: This is the first in our series of six posts on Alchemy and Meggy Swann, which will culminate with an interview with Karen Cushman in early August. The StorySleuths will then spend the rest of August engaged in some summer reading of our own. We will return with a new book and fall schedule in September. To stay posted on our September read, please sign up for our newsletter .)

Cushman brings London to life in Alchemy and Meggy Swann, capturing both the specifics of the time period as well as the frenetic energy of an urban center in any time period:

... the streets were gloomy, with tall houses looming on either side, rank with the smell of fish and the sewage in the gutter, slippery with horse droppings, clamorous with church bells and the clatter of car wheels rumbling on cobbles. London was a gallimaufry of people and carts, horses and coaches, dogs and pigs, and such noise that made Meggy's head, accustomed to the gentle stillness of a country village, ache. (p. 4).

How does Cushman create such a vivid impression of Elizabethan London?

The five senses
Cushman's narrative descriptions include sound, sight, smell, tastes, and touch. Here are just a few examples from Meggy's trip to find her friend Robert (p. 42):

Sound: "Shop signs swung and banged in the wind..."

Sight: "... the afternoon was wet, with mist rising off the river."

Smell: "The girl and goose stood in the fragrant steam rising from an inn."

Taste: "The crust [of a pork pie] crumbled deliciously against her teeth..."

Touch: "... meaty juices bespattered her chin."

Contrast
Meggy's childhood growing up in the country contrasts sharply with life in the city.

She missed the scents of fresh ale and clean rushes and meat turning on the spit. This house stank of dust and mildew, and from somewhere, a foul reek like hen's eggs gone rotten. All in all it did not seem a place where people truly lived (p. 13).

Cushman uses contrast to differentiate between Meggy's expectations and her present experiences.

Lists
Visiting a strange city is often exhausting: there is so much to observe at any given moment. Cushman creates the sensation of busy, crowded streets with lists rather than dense descriptions.

Every corner swarmed with people: peddlers and rat catchers, toy merchants and dung collectors, silken-cloaked ladies and children in ragged breeches, all going about their lives, laughing, shouting, arguing, jeering, and jostling. (p. 26)

The list jumps from one person to the next, providing a wide scope of view in a concise format. The reader never feels bogged down in detailed description or superfluous information. Furthermore, the list also mimics the way an observer's gaze jumps from one thing to another.

Language
Cushman's choice of words also helps to convey the time period and location in her descriptions. Here is another list, this one of food:

...apples and pears, carrots and cowcumbers, fat salmon, pigs' trotters, chunks of cheese, and ginger cakes. (p. 30).

While I am unfamiliar with the term cowcumber, I assume it is an old-fashioned word for cucumber. The use of this word reminds me that the book takes place in another time and place.

The setting of Alchemy and Meggy Swann plays an important role in the book. Meggy has moved to London against her will, and she fears she will not survive in such a place. Cushman brings the chaos and vibrancy of the city to life throughout the book in a textured, almost impressionistic way through her use of senses, contrasts, lists, and language.

Tip #85: Lists, word choice, contrasts, and sense details work together to create a textured, lively impression of place.