Author Interview: Krista Russell

New Bedford, Massachusetts, 1851

With the establishment of time and place, Krista Russell sets the stage for her debut novel, Chasing the Nightbird. This historical adventure for middle grade readers (or anyone with an interest in the history of whaling) tells the story of Lucky Valera, a fourteen year old boy who has grown up at sea, working on whaling ships with his father. After his father's death, Lucky plans to continue working as a whaler, until the appearance of an unknown step-brother, Fernando Fortuna.

A landlubber through and through, Fortuna forces Lucky into a sort of endentured servitude to pay off a debt owed him by their father. Lucky has no intention of working for his brother, particularly when he finds himself laboring in a textile mill, and is constantly scheming to get back out to sea and reconnect with the Nightbird. But encounters with Emmeline, a Quaker girl involved in the Abolitionist movement, and a fugitive slave named Daniel, force Lucky to change his plans.

As a Cape Verdean, Lucky suddenly finds himself at risk of losing his physical freedom--not simply his economic freedom--when slave catchers come to New Bedford to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act. Having always lived as a free citizen, Lucky does not identify himself with Daniel (although there is a lovely moment when Daniel sings The Drinking Gourd and Lucky mentions that sailors navigate by the Big Dipper as well.) Lucky might wish nothing more than to return to sea, but fate and circumstances conspire against him.

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Not Just For Kids: I have to start by saying how much I love the lyricism of the book's title. Did you come up with it or was it a collaboration between you and your editor? Other than the image which it creates in my mind of pursuing an actual bird (which of course isn't what the book is about, despite the ubiquitous Delph,) so much of the story is about pursuit: Daniel pursing freedom, Lucky pursuing freedom, Emmeline pursuing social justice, the slave catchers pursuing runaway slaves, Fortuna pursuing wealth, and Lucky's initial desire to actually track down and catch-up with the Nightbird. Was that a theme that you were consciously developing as you wrote the story? How did the story change from what you originally set out to write (if it changed at all?)

Krista Russell

Krista Russell: I love the title, too! I wish I could take credit for it, but it came from Jessica Alexander, my brilliant editor at Peachtree. The original title was A Following Sea, but the marketing folks at Peachtree thought it sounded too adult (on reflection, I had to agree). I tried for weeks to come up with a good alternative, but nothing sounded right. As soon as Jessica suggested Chasing the Nightbird, I knew she’d found the book’s title.

I’m not sure I was conscious of the theme of pursuit until Jessica suggested the title. I added the line where Emmeline says “Keep chasing your precious Nightbird. And good riddance!” (along with other references to the ship and where she’d be) at that time.

NJFK: Having grown up in the Boston area, I really identified with Lucky's connection to the sea. I loved the bit at the beginning, during his first day in the mill, when Lucky is trying to center himself by finding the harbor, and his distress at being so land-locked within the walls of the mill. I lived for six years in England, and 4 1/2 of those years were spent in Derby. You are probably not familiar with Derby, but it is in the Midlands, smack in the middle--about as far from the sea as you can get. That's unfortunate when you think that England is an island! Having never lived more than twenty minutes from the shore my entire life, it was an adjustment.

KR: I grew up in MA and in Kennebunkport, ME and I sooo identify with the land-locked feeling. Atlanta’s fatal flaw is that it’s a 4 hour drive from the beach :). We have lovely lakes nearby, but it’s not the same, is it?   


 NJFK: I was unaware of New Bedford's mill history (I always think of Lowell when thinking of mills.) I like how you represented the two cultures in the town: whaling culture and mill culture. While they are not necessarily in conflict with each other, as a reader I got the impression that they were rival businesses competing for the economic heart of the city. Is this true? And that clash of culture comes through in other aspects of the story; Lucky certainly looks down on "land-lubbers" at the start, and Fortuna has turned his back on the sea and the life of their father. And then there is Brisco [the mill manager] who repeatedly refers to Lucky as lazy and incompetent simply because he can't keep up with the more experienced spinners. How much research did you have to do into the two industries?

KR: I found the contrast between the whaling and textile industries really interesting and enjoyed researching both. What happened in New Bedford reflected what was happening in the US (more so in northern states) during the Industrial Revolution. The mills came to New Bedford during the golden age of whaling, but grew as whaling began to wane – finally becoming the engine driving the city’s economy.

Just as New Bedford’s identity had begun to change, our country was facing an identity crisis – illustrated by the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. I was interested in this theme, and how our beliefs, experiences, and the groups we belong to shape our identities. 

NJFK: Did Quakers settle in New Bedford because the city was tolerant, or did New Bedford become a tolerant place because of the presence of the Quakers?

KR: Great question! Some of the founding families of New Bedford were Quaker, and more came over from Nantucket (where whaling had started) after a fire in 1846 destroyed Nantucket’s commercial district and sandbars made it hard for the increasingly larger whaleships to dock.

I had attributed New Bedford’s prominence in the abolitionist movement and its reputation as a safe haven for runaway slaves (who made up a higher percentage of the population than in New York or Boston) to Quakerism. But I found that the whaling industry and the whalemen themselves also played an important role.

I was fascinated that men who lived by the whalemen’s commandments (tongue-in-cheek though they may have been) were also active in the abolitionist movement. Although many captains and ship owners were Quaker (hard to picture them embracing the whalemen's commandments) the average sailor was not. A whaleship formed its own society (understandable given that the average whaling voyage was over 3 years) and in many ways a more egalitarian one. The work was so dangerous and the crew so dependent on one another for survival, that judgments tended to be made based on ability rather than skin color. It seemed to me that when prejudice existed it tended to be green hand (landlubber) vs. experienced sailor. Have you ever seen the show Deadliest Catch? The same dynamic exists today.

NJFK: How much research did you have to do into sailor suspicions? They are so ingrained in Lucky's philosophy. And what about the whalemen's commandments? What is their source?

KR: I did a good bit of research on sailor’s superstitions – mainly because I was intrigued by how suspicious they are (I love that a black cat is good luck to a sailor). But also because I was trying to get a feel for the world and worldview of a whaleman. The whalemen’s commandments came from Black Hands, White Sails, an amazing book about the history of African-American whalers by Patricia C. and Frederick L. McKissack. I’d been struggling with building a compelling main character, and as soon as I read the commandments I knew I’d found Lucky.

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Readers, you should go and find Lucky, too. Chasing the Nightbird is a satisfying read with strong characters and thought-provoking contrasts between freedom and slavery, land and sea, plans and destiny.

Thank you to Krista Russell for kindly answering my questions and Blue Slip Media for providing me with a copy of the ARC.

Picture Book Review: Benno and the Night of Broken Glass

I've refrained from using my usual title "Rave Review" because this is not a book that one can rave about: it is a story about Kristallnacht. But as an example of how a picture book can break free of the perceptions of the format and be an intelligent, compelling, and sensitive way to tell a story to readers from ages 5 to 105, this book is an excellent example.

The action of the story takes place on Rosenstrasse in Berlin, and is told from the point of view of a ginger cat named Benno. He is a stray who makes his home where he leaves his hat, so to speak, and his transient lifestyle gives him the opportunity to spend time with the residents of Rosenstrasse. He shares Shabat with the Adler family, sleeps in the window of Mitzi Stein's dress shop, visits Frau Gerber for daily ear scratches, and watches Inge Schmidt and her Jewish friend, Sophie, walk to school each day. He is a non-judgemental observer of the comings and goings of a busy street--all is told in perspective to his own feline needs. Consequently, when the Nazis arrive, his non-judgemental perspective creates a stark contrast to the fear of the residents. He seems to be aware that something is wrong, but as he is a completely non-anthropomorphized character, his non-emotional observance of the terror and destruction wrought by Kristallnacht is unembellished. The evil speaks for itself. Afterwards, he tries to find some of his friends, but they are gone. He cannot know that they are gone because they are Jewish, but he notices that everything has changed on Rosenstrasse and that nothing will be the same.

Using the eyes of a cat to tell this story is a remarkably efficient technique for taking the emotional charge out of the events and presenting them to children in a way that they can absorb and understand what has happened. The heartbreaking images of the demolished shops and homes fill in the dramatic gaps in the text, and the historical note at the end, which in non-fiction picture books has become the bridge between young readers and the wider contextual details of a book's subject, provide the starting point for discussion. The thought of having to tell young children about Kristallnacht at all is pervasively tragic. Yet here is a book that is more than up to the task.

Anticipated Arcs: This Means War! by Ellen Wittlinger

In Ellen Wittlinger's upcoming middle school novel (due for release in April, 2010,) the subject of "boys against the girls" is played out in front of a dramatic historical backdrop. With the United States and Cuba locked in a nuclear stare-down, 4 girls and 4 boys in Wisdom Hill, a Southern Air Force town bearing the eerie markings of a military build-up, challenge each other to a series of "tests" to prove, once and for all, who is the best--boys or girls. Children's literature is no stranger to the battle of the sexes: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor's multi-volume "Boys against Girls" series is full of fun and pranks, and Andrew Clements' No Talking elevates a stubborn battle of wills into a constructive social exercise. In This Means War! however, there is no doubt that the stakes in this battle are high, as the children's game becomes complicated by a maelstrom of pre-teen disorientation, confused loyalties, and the escalating anxiety concerning the Cuban missile crisis.

There were times when this was a stressful book to read. I know how the Cuban Missile Crisis was eventually resolved, so the stress did not originate from the historical context of the book. Instead, the activity of the children, seen through the eyes of protagonist Juliet Klostermeyer, is fraught with peril. Each team is goaded on by a leader who simply cannot be seen to be weak or less than the best: Bruce Wagner is a juvenile delinquent in the making who is reduced to hanging out with children much younger than himself because he has been forced to repeat grades in school. He is a loud-mouthed bully that the younger boys don't know how to rid themselves of, despite the fact that he upsets and scares them. Patsy Osborne is a bold and confident girl whose fiercely competitive streak is antagonized by contemporary attitudes about girls. Bruce is the obvious villain, but Patsy is the danger you suddenly realize has been present all along and is consequently harder to contain.

This is a thought-provoking book about the fears of children, and the lengths to which they will go to face, combat, or mask those fears. If Juliet were not already distressed about a domestic situation in which her mother is too busy to spend time with her, her father's business is threatened by larger competition, her older sister thinks she is a nuisance, and her best friend (who happens to be a boy) is suddenly ignoring her,  the news about the missle crisis might have remained just that--news. But as Juliet sees chinks in her localized support system, there is space for larger concerns to creep in and threaten her. One of the most touching moments in the book is when Juliet cries because Mr. Ed has been preempted by the news about the missile crisis. Having been gifted a rare chance to sit and watch TV with her mother, the loss of that opportunity is indicative to her of an unsafe world that can reach her at any moment.

Just as the Cuban Missile Crisis dictates the fear factor in this story, so does its end project a sense a optimism on the book's finale. After an intense week that has seen both the larger and the local world teeter on the brink of disaster, Juliet and her friends are afforded respite, redemption and the luxury to reflect on their experience. The war, as it were, is over, and it is time to start the reconstruction. This is a book which will resonate with its core audience--preteens living in an uncertain world, where the meanings of bravery, fear, and loyalty are questioned everyday.

Rave Review: The (Mostly) True Adventures of Homer P. Figg

Ever on the look out for recommendations for boys, I picked this one up with high expectations: it's written by Rodman Philbrick and the cover illustration is by David Shannon. That's pedigree! And I must say, I was not disappointed. This is a funny, action-packed, winning book that will appeal to both boys and girls.

Homer P. Figg and his older brother Harold are orphans who are under the protection of their truly despicable uncle Squinton Leach, the meanest man in Maine. When Squint illegally sells an under aged Harold into the services of the Union Army, twelve year old Homer sets off to track him down and free him. With the sass and wits of Huck Finn, Homer lies his way in and out of mishaps and crosses paths with an array of Characters (emphasis on the capital 'C'.) Sometimes, not even the truth can keep Homer out of trouble. And as his adventures become more outlandish, it is sometimes difficult for new acquaintances to differentiate between fact and fiction. With the Civil War as the backdrop to the story, Homer's and Harold's fates come to a head on the fields of Gettysburg in a sequence that is as much high-flying adventure as it is a poignant observation of war.

Homer is an outstanding protagonist that readers can cheer for from start to finish. His voice is clear and distinct, right from the opening paragraph:

"My name is Homer P. Figg, and these are my true adventures. I mean to write them down, every one, including all the heroes and cowards, and the saints and the scalawags, and them stained with the blood of innocents, and them touched by glory, and them that was lifted into Heaven, and them that went to the Other Place."

Kids will love this book. They might not even recognize it as historical fiction, despite the fact that it unfolds during a pivotal time in this nation's history. Homer's cares and concerns, his focused intention of finding his brother, and his longing for his Dear Mother are sentiments that any reader can relate to, even without a Civil War.

Easy Reader Review: Journey of a Pioneer by Patricia J. Murphy

As the only Cybil nominated title in the Easy Reader category that could be classified as non-fiction, Journey of a Pioneer tells the story of Olivia Clark, a young girl living in Elk Grove, Missouri in 1845. The story is told in diary format. On March 23, Olivia learns that she and her parents are going to head out west to the Oregon Territory where land is plentiful. From April 10 to September 28, Olivia keeps a record of the family's journey. Her entries provide a look at life on the trail and are the means through which author Patricia J Murphy inserts historical facts and anecdotes. Little details like Olivia's amazement at her father's tears when they leave Missouri, or watching her mother have to abandon her stove and trunk so that the wagon can ascend a steep hill, help to make the narrative more personal to the reader. Published by Dorling Kindersley, the book maintains many of the hallmarks of its popular Eyewitness series, combining colorful illustrations, photographs, and fact boxes. There is plenty of white space and a fluid layout so that readers are not overwhelmed by the amount of text, which is considerable for a level 2 book. A page of Pioneer Facts, which a grown-up would have to read, and an index are included at the end. All in all, this is a serviceable introduction to both historical fiction and readable non-fiction.

What I am Reading--The Redheaded Princess

It took me about forty pages to warm to this historical novel about a teenage Elizabeth Tudor, mainly because author Ann Rinaldi did such a poor job of establishing the narrator's voice. Elizabeth is old beyond her years, and not just because children were forced to grow up faster. At eight years of age she is expressing love for an admired member of her father's court, and it is as if Rinaldi has lost track of her narrator's age. Dialogue between Elizabeth and her younger brother Edward sounds as if it is exchanged between grown-ups, rather than tweenies (which they are at the start of the story--forsooth!) The book vacilates between juvenile and young adult suitability. But once it becomes clear that this is a YA book, both in content and style (again, it took about 40 pages, so be patient,) this is an engrossing story of political machinations, love affairs, and family dysfunction. Despite the fact that we know Elizabeth will go on to become one of England's most influential monarchs, it is fascinating watching her walk the tightrope between familial sentiment and survival.

Elizabeth is portrayed as a wise and wily young woman, mindful of her place while out of favor, but never forgetful that she could very well be queen one day. She watches her rivals get their turn at the throne, and then fall through one means or another (some natural, others, as in the case of the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, unnatural.) Supporting characters in the book, of which there are many, are well-rounded. Rinaldi manages to avoid caricature when portraying larger than life figures like Henry VIII. In the end, The Redheaded Princess is worth the effort and will reward readers with a fresh look at one of the most fascinating political dynasties in history.

Bring on the accolades

The young readers book award season, which will hit the mother lode on Monday when ALA announces its big prize winners, has a new addition. Christopher Paul Curtis' (a Newbery winner for the fantastic Bud, Not Buddy) has won the Scott O'Dell award for Elijah of Buxton. The Scott O'Dell Award, named after the legendary author of Island of the Blue Dolphins, among others, is given each year to a children's or young adult novel of historical fiction.

Well done!

Julie Moodring--the American Girls enter the 70's

The New York Times reports that September will see the release of two new American Girl dolls, Julie, and her Chinese-American friend, Ivy. There will be six books in the new series, penned by Judy Moody creator Megan McDonald, which take place in the 1970's. So the question is--will they count as historical fiction? What exactly makes historical fiction is something which I think is up for debate. By my definition, historical fiction is fiction which tells a story and makes a point of doing so during a specific period in the past. So by those standards, The Witch of Blackbird Pond (Sphere, Elizabeth George) is historical fiction, whereas Little Women (Alcott, Louisa May) is not. Sphere wrote a story during a period of which she herself was not contemporary, and she used that era as part of the story (the story would not have the same impact if it was set at the Alamo, for instance.) Alcott based her story during the American Civil War (at least, that's when the story started) a time not far removed from her own, and that era is really inconsequential to the telling of the story. The war serves to keep Mr. March away from home and the main action of the book, but it does not shape Jo's ambitions. The fact that Kit Tyler in "Witch" lives in a Puritan town during a time of superstition and a fear of witchcraft influences almost every event in the story.

So where does that leave Julie and Ivy and the events of their stories--a mere 37 years ago? I guess if you are an 8-12 year old reader of these books, 37 years ago might as well be 100. And the stories are clearly set in "a context", judging by the earlier AG series. My guess is, I will be adding these to the "Historical Fiction" reading list at work. But the Hardy Boys, chock full of details about life in the 30's, 40's, and 50's are still just detective novels.

What I'm Reading Today--The True confessions of Charlotte Doyle

I'm a big fan of Avi. I say that, even though I have only scratched the surface of his extensive body of work. I have read three novels, two picture books and one collection of short stories, and each book is as different as can be from the other. He is a wonderful craftsman, and it seems that no genre is beyond his talents. "Charlotte Doyle" has been on my "to read" list for quite some time. I'm pleased to finally be settling down with her.