How Childhood Favorite Books & Illness Influence My Writing

"I think fantasy is a powerful tool for coming to an understanding of oneself." Lev Grossman, 2014

Growing up, reading was an escape. Like many writers and other bookworms, I assume. Living with chronic illness* for years and years made escaping into other worlds all the more desirable. Vicariously living other lives, I kept my nose stuck in books featuring strong, resilient women and girls; warriors and knights; and always a touch of magic. As a "sick kid", I wanted --needed--to believe that something magical was possible.

In a way, all fiction is a bit magical. Writers take ideas, characters, stories that have pestered them with vivid mental images until the words are on a page, and then someone else reads those words and sees the same mental images which, if done well, will live on forever in the reader's brain. I don't know what can be more magical than that.

As I got older, I refused to let go of my belief in the impossible. Serendipitous (and unfortunate) things happen to me all the time. Whether it's because I believe in the ubiquity of magic or because I've read enough books that those mental images find their mirrors in my every day life, the stories that developed roots in my mind are ones that remind me that in the darkest of days, through the hardest horrors, some tiny little kernel of hope will grow into a beacon of light showing the way out.

Lev Grossman told The Atlantic that he believes reading fantasy is a way to "confront" real life issues. When I read this I nodded-out-loud. That was my experience as a kid. Perhaps Brian Jacques' Matthias and Mariel were not fighting long-term illnesses, but they were fighting off seemingly incessant attacks from Cluny. It was something I could relate to: the "bad guy" returning again and again, beaten back but only temporarily. Yet the inhabitants of Redwall never let go of their hope (or their appetites, another thing I could relate to with all of the food restrictions I dealt with). And so I would imagine myself a small but mighty, brave--and hungry--mouse warrior on a mission to defeat my enemy.

As an adult, I read all kinds of books. There's a special place in my heart for fantasy, though. There always will be. As a writer, I am hard pressed to write anything that doesn't have some sort of magical, fantastical element to it. You'll see this in every project on my Works in Progress page. There's also usually a really sad girl (or boy) in the center of the story, because what is a writer if they were not once a very sad child?

Below are the books that have implanted themselves in my brain, and which have influenced the stories I now write:

Redwall (series), by Brian Jacques

What I remember most about these stories is the incredibly detailed descriptions of the feasts. When I was a kid, I'd think, wow, I want to be a chef, while reading these stories. But not just any chef. I wanted to be a chef who made cute, miniature meals from beautiful, forest-foraged goodies a la Redwall.

There is a LOT of food in my stories, and many characters are bakers or chefs or have one sole hobby that has them spending hours in their kitchens. Food is just another form of magic, in my mind. You take a turnip, for example, which is bitter and hard and could be used to bat a home run, add some heat and salt and butter and turn it into something soft and nearly sweet.

Where food shows up in my stories: "Danny", from Project: Claude, is a self-taught chef with a dream to make country cooking more healthy for his mom's sake. Thornard Mackelmoor is a self-proclaimed pastry afficionado, and can't help stopping for a flaky treat no matter how the battle around him rages on. In Project: 2180, Ingrid4380 experiences the intimacy of a family meal and realizes just how sacred that time together at the table is.

Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling

Regardless of how we feel about J.K. Rowling, Harry was eleven years old the same time I was eleven years old. While Harry battled giant basilisks, I battled three-days-per-week shots. While Harry hated his cousin and his aunt, I lived for the few times a year we'd see my extended family. But what Harry and I had in common was the feeling of being very, very alone. Harry's story begins with him living in a cut-out under the stairs: a dark, tiny hole that represents his entire world. And, rightfully so, he is an angry kid.

Still, despite his anger and loneliness, Harry finds a way to make friends. He expands his world little by little, and once he has a taste of magic, there is nothing that can dampen the hope and determination in his heart that he will one day have a better life. He refuses to give up, even when he is forced to return to the Dursley's summer after summer.

Resilience in the face of relentless challenges is a common theme in all of my stories. Sometimes, my characters start out as resilient people: Secelia in Project: Glitter City is one of those who keeps picking up, keeps adjusting, keeps going no matter what life throws at her, even when it seems like all is lost. Sometimes they have to learn resilience. Felicity from Project: Claude comes to mind. It's there, but she has to remember how to use it.

Wait Till Helen Comes, by Mary Downing Hahn

I probably read this book twenty or so times when I was a kid and yet what I remember most from it was the vibes: the mom had this gorgeous, light filled art studio next to a creepy-AF graveyard. As a professional writer, I now know that is called setting. Setting has always been important for me, especially as a child living with a disease that made me uncomfortable all the time. I needed spaces like that light-filled studio, and I constantly craved beauty in my surroundings. However, being the dreamer that I was, any setting became mystical. Anything could live in a tiny painted play house in my friend's backyard; the open grassy fields next to my grandma's property definitely had little fairies flitting about and some ghost like Helen was probably lurking in her barn.

Rich, evocative settings can be found in Project: Glitter City, where the port town's sights and sounds call up a sticky summer day in New Orleans, and in Project: Claude, where big skies, golden afternoon light, and a peculiar stone house make for the perfect backdrop for mystical events.

Ahab's Wife (or, The Stargazer), by Sena Jeter Naslund

I read this book on my honeymoon (so, as an adult) and although I probably should have spent more time gazing into my husband's eyes, I could not tear myself away from this epic story. Naslund writes about a forgotten character: the wife of Captain Ahab, mentioned just once in the monstrosity that is Moby Dick. Naslund names her Una, (translating to "the one and only", quite a clever name when you consider how Ahab had one singular goal) and gives her a hard upbringing full of strictness and rebellion and resulting bad decisions. Una, born into emotional chaos and then brought to live in a lighthouse where she must perform the same tasks day after day, ultimately disguises herself as a boy so she can escape the monotony and chase that chaos again. Eventually, she finds herself seeking peace.

This emotional journey is one I resonated with and is one you'll find in many of my stories, especially in Project: Glitter City which (IA) will be just as epic of a tale as Una's.