FALL SPOTLIGHT: C.C. HARRINGTON

Ana Fallon

C.C. Harrington’s debut, Wildoak (Scholastic, Sept. 20), tells the intersecting stories of two vulnerable beings in 1960s Cornwall: Maggie a London 11-year-old staying with her grandfather in hopes it will help her stuttering, and Rumpus, a young snow leopard sold by Harrods as an exotic pet and abandoned when he is clearly unsuited to urban living. A threat to the existence of Wildoak Forest, where they both find refuge, leads to a dramatic climax. This enchanting, deeply affecting work is vivid and fresh while also reading like an enduring classic. Harrington answered some questions over email.

What do you hope readers will take from Wildoak? I struggle with this question because reading is by nature so subjective. In general, my hope is that readers leave this book feeling a deep sense of belonging and interconnectedness to the whole of the natural world. It’s in caring for ourselves and one another—humans, plants, and animals alike—that we stand the best chance of protecting the planet. My hope is that Wildoak is the kind of book that can pull you into a whole other world of story. As a child I always loved that feeling, of stepping through a portal, losing track of time, and wrapping myself in the lives of characters. It’s part of what makes reading for pleasure so magical. So I hope it’s a book that invites broader and thoughtful questions, but I also hope it’s a book readers simply enjoy.

Thinking about environmental destruction can feel overwhelming. Dr. Jane Goodall talks about the importance of hope when it comes to tackling climate change. Without it, we are left with despair, which in turn leads to apathy and inaction. It was a conscious decision on my part to write a story that is truthful but also hopeful. Your actions count, however imperfect or patchy. In time, individual choices have the potential to become collective choices.

One of my favorite picture books is The Lost Words by Robert Macfarlane, illustrated by Jackie Morris. You cannot help but fall in love with the plants and animals he writes about and the way she paints them. The idea being that when you know the name of something, when you pause to pay attention for a moment, noticing details, you are more likely to care for it and therefore be moved to protect it. In some ways Wildoak is a love letter to the beauty of the natural world and everything in it.

Writing from an animal’s perspective must be quite tricky. How did you approach Rumpus’ chapters? This was tricky for me. I did a lot of research [and] worked directly with a snow-leopard keeper

at a conservation-based zoo. I thought long and hard about how to convey his sentience and intelligence with just enough closeness to pull the reader in tight but not so close as to fully anthropomorphize him. Ultimately, I didn’t want the emotional impact of his presence to be limited, so it was often a gut decision as to what to keep and what to leave out.

What formative books do you remember from childhood? I grew up in the countryside, my brothers were much older, and I was alone quite a bit of the time, so the characters I read about were very much my friends. Many of the books I loved most featured animals—Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Paddington Bear, Redwall, Charlotte’s Web, and Watership Down. I think what spoke to me, shaped me even, was the presentation of a world in which empathy and compassion stood strong in the face of adversity. I think that’s also partly why I write the kind of stories I write.

Interview by Laura Simeon

Spencer, Kim Orca (192 pp.) $12.95 paper | Oct. 18, 2022 978-1-4598-3558-0

A coming-of-age story narrated by an Indigenous preteen living in British Columbia, Canada. It’s 1985, and 10-year-old Amelia “Mia” Douglas lives with her mother and her grandmother in the small coastal town of Prince Rupert. Short chapters convey the many different aspects of Mia’s life; she is sensitive but tough, fun-loving yet serious, and observant and analytical. Her wealthier best friend, Lara, a White Mexican Hungarian girl, lives in the same cul-de-sac, though Lara’s house is a large white one with a view of the mountains and the ocean, while Mia’s is an old wartime house with a view of a retaining wall. It is largely through this friendship that Mia slowly becomes aware of differences in attitude, outlook, and behavior between White and Indigenous people. She encounters racism and microaggressions. When Lara’s and her brother Owen’s bicycles are stolen and her father says, “It must have been the Indians,” Mia says nothing, pretending she didn’t hear those words. As the months, then years, go by, the girls slowly drift apart, but Mia makes new friends and develops a deeper understanding of the world around her. Readers will be left with a rich image of Mia’s world and the family and people that surround her as well as a strong sense of how culture and class impact people’s experiences.

A touching exploration of identity and culture. (Realistic fiction. 912) (This review is printed here for the first time.)

Warga, Jasmine Illus. by Matt Rockefeller Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins (320 pp.) $17.99 | Oct. 4, 2022 978-0-06-311392-3

A Mars rover discovers that it has a heart to go with its two brains. Warga follows her cybernetic narrator from first awareness to final resting place—and stony indeed will be any readers who remain unmoved by the journey. Though unable to ask questions of the hazmats (named for their suits) assembling it in a NASA lab, the rover, dubbed Resilience by an Ohio sixth grader, gets its first inklings of human feelings from two workers who talk to it, play it music, and write its pleasingly bugfree code. Other machines (even chatty cellphones) reject the notion that there’s any real value to emotions. But the longer those conversations go, the more human many start sounding, particularly after Res lands in Mars’ Jezero Crater and, with help from Fly, a comically excitable drone, and bossy satellite

Guardian, sets off on twin missions to look for evidence of life and see if an older, silenced rover can be brought back online. Along with giving her characters, human and otherwise, distinct voices and engaging personalities, the author quietly builds solid relationships (it’s hardly a surprise when, after Fly is downed in a dust storm, Res trundles heroically to the rescue in defiance of orders) on the way to rest and joyful reunions years later. A subplot involving brown-skinned, Arabic-speaking NASA coder Rania unfolds through her daughter Sophia’s letters to Res.

feelings are genuine and deep. (afterword, resources) (Science fiction. 913)

Watson, Renée Illus. by Andrew Grey Bloomsbury (208 pp.) $16.99 | Sept. 27, 2022 978-1-5476-0909-3 Series: Ryan Hart, 3

More adventures in the life of Ryan Hart. Ryan is in the middle, “stuck” between her baby sister, Rose, who needs her help, and her older brother, Ray, who has more freedom and enjoys telling her what to do. Sometimes being in the middle gets hard, like when she’s not so sure about the family’s plan to surprise Grandma, who says she just wants to rest, with a birthday party or when she grapples with the difficulties of having two best friends. But with the help of her loving family and time spent on her favorite things, like baking, Ryan manages her child-sized troubles, including being teased about her name and for wearing clearance-sale shoes to school, trading pranks with her brother, and maintaining friendships with care. Inspired by her wise Grandma, she learns life lessons along the way, such as the difference between a “true friend” and a “best friend” and how a person can be full of joy even when they aren’t happy (“Joy is something deep, deep down”). Ryan’s African American family has fallen on somewhat hard times, but they find ways to share what they have. Watson immerses readers in the world of a girl on the cusp of middle school. Her book features a lovely cast of characters, delightfully relatable dilemmas and solutions, and a character with an authentic voice.

A tale of family and friendship that exudes pure joy. (Realistic fiction. 712)

Winston, Sherri Bloomsbury (304 pp.) $16.99 | Sept. 6, 2022 978-1-5476-0846-1

A seventh grade girl learns to speak up for equity, community, and freedom of expression. Lotus Bloom is not your typical tween: She wears vintage ’70s clothes, proudly rocks an Afro, and is a gifted violinist. Music is her escape, and she needs it more than ever between her parents’ divorce, her father’s relocation to Paris, a mother who doesn’t understand her, and a strained relationship with her best friend, Rebel Mitchell. Atlantis School of the Arts, Lotus’ new magnet school, allows her to focus on her passion, but Rebel is staying behind in a regular public school. When Lotus is made firstchair violin, she catches the attention of Adolpho Cortez, a ninth grade bully who believes the honor is rightfully his. Having learned to tamp down her feelings, Lotus ignores him despite her friends’ urging her to take action. But when a school administrator cites her Afro as a dress-code violation, Lotus is done with keeping quiet. Ignoring her Granny’s pessimism and her mother’s admonition not to make waves, she speaks up for herself and also joins Rebel’s protest against Miami-Dade County’s inequitable funding of schools in their historically Black neighborhood. Winston employs rich descriptions through Lotus’ first-person narration, conveying her love of music. The text brings themes of racism and protest to the forefront, making it a solid conversation starter. Lotus and Rebel are Black; the rest of the cast is broadly diverse.

their rights. (Fiction. 812)