Sounds of a story

I am excited to share a short interview with Camilia O’Grady, the narrator of the audio version of Wildoak. It was inspiring and humbling for me to hear her bring the story to life with such care and tenderness. I honestly cried the first time I heard her read Chapter 1. She gives a beautiful performance and brings her own unique perspective to the book. It was strange in a way, hearing the words turn into sounds that until now, had only ever existed inside my imagination. Strange and absolutely brilliant.

How did you find your way into reading audiobooks? Is it something you’ve always wanted to do?

I've been a professional actor for the last five years and particularly since lockdown I've been doing more and more voiceover work. I am passionate about telling stories and creating worlds for people to get lost in, which is why I became an actor in the first place and as a result I have always wanted to read audiobooks. Growing up with dyslexia, audiobooks have always been a pleasurable pastime.

It sounds like a dream job, to me at least… reading stories for a living! But as with any kind of job, there must be pros and cons. Can you share some of the things you love about it and some of the things that are more challenging than one might think?

 It absolutely is a dream job! There is nothing I love more than breathing life into characters and exploring how their voices sound. It is so creatively fulfilling. However for this audiobook I felt a lot of responsibility to get it right and do the work justice. I am a bit of a perfectionist, often it takes time for me to be happy with my oratory work, I am my own worst critic.

There are three main threads that run through the heart of Wildoak – a child who struggles to speak to humans but not to animals, an abandoned snow leopard and an ancient forest. Can you share a little about what drew you to the story as a whole?

Having grown up with my own stutter, it was such a privilege to be able to tell a story that helps everyone's voices feel heard. The core message of love and acceptance at the heart of Wildoak is one that we all need to hear.

The main human character in the book is a 12 year-old girl called Maggie who loves animals and also has a strong stutter. Can you share a little of what it was like for you as a child who stuttered and how you manage it now?

 Over time my stutter has changed and I have been able to find my own confidence. What helped me most was accepting my voice as it is, and remembering that it is what you say that carries meaning and value not how you say it.

Although Wildoak is a work of fiction, it is true that Harrods used to sell lions, leopards and cheetahs (among many other animals) as ‘pets’. Was there anything in particular that you kept in mind while reading the Rumpus chapters, or reading from the perspective of a snow leopard cub?

It was lovely breathing life into Rumpus. I feel he is the heart of Wildoak and he is what allows Maggie to feel loved and accepted. He has a beautiful sense of curiosity and warmth that cubs like him often have despite him feeling a bit out of place. I kept this in mind when reading his chapters.

Credit: Samuel Black

Thank you so much for answering all my questions, Camilia. And thank you for doing such a beautiful job with your read of the story.

Thank you so much again, it’s been such a pleasure recording Wildoak for you.

Click here to listen to a sample of Camila reading Wildoak on Audible.com

Putting a book into the world

There is a slight coolness to the air when I walk the dog in the mornings. A handful of crisp, yellow leaves float on the breeze. Autumn is around the corner and my first book is making its way into the world. I am both excited and super nervous, probably in equal measure. Excited because it feels like the most extraordinary gift - to know that this work has the potential to touch readers of all ages - which in many ways is why I write in the first place. Nervous because of the raw vulnerability that comes with that. What if nobody likes it? What if readers fall asleep half way through? What if the reviews are publicly critical to the point of being embarrassing? There is no end to the list of sweaty-palmed ‘What-ifs.’

But then I walk on. We wind our way through the trees, and I take in a long, deep breath. I listen to the wind as it sways the branches and remind myself that the only piece of this I get to control as a writer is the writing of the story. The research, the drafting and re-drafting, the listening, the exploring, the work. Work from a place of heart and humility. And now that it’s being published, it’s not really my book any more. It belongs to the world, to the reader, whoever they may be.

Sometimes we read to feel comforted, sometimes we read to feel less alone, sometimes we read for the sheer joy and escapism of being swept away by a story or simply to be entertained, to laugh. Whatever you need from a book right now - or what a child in your life might need from a book right now - I hope it can be found in Wildoak. I also hope you don’t fall asleep half way through… and if you do enjoy it, that you’ll let me know.

A way into poetry

When I was little, I don’t remember reading much poetry. I don’t remember anyone reading poetry to me either. Perhaps a few snippets from Now We Are Six by A.A. Milne. On the whole I think I found poems confusing and hard to understand. I also worried about getting the meaning ‘wrong’ and then embarrassing myself by seeming a bit stupid.

That feeling didn’t ever really go away. Even now, I find a lot of poetry intimidating. But what has changed is that it doesn’t stop me from reading it, or enjoying it, or knowing that I will likely interpret things in my own subjective way - and that’s okay. In fact it’s more than okay. Reading any kind of literature is a deeply personal and subjective experience. I just wish somebody had said that to my 11 year-old self.

A special friend recently gave my daughter a copy of this gorgeous anthology: Everyone Sang - A Poem For Every Feeling by William Sieghart and illustrated by Emily Sutton. It is a big, solid book, full of different kinds of poems from different parts of the world, some old, some new. When you pick it up, it feels heavy in a reassuring kind of way. And the artwork is beautiful, each page is overflowing with rich and evocative illustrations. It’s the kind of book I wish I had read when I was young because I would have loved it. And it would have felt like an invitation, a way in to poetry that was open-hearted and welcoming.

Here are two of my favorite pages. Perhaps because Sassoon was writing during the First World War, or perhaps because Manly Hopkins uses words in such a visceral way, each poem reminds me that even when the headlines are full of suffering and fear, poetry is capable of wielding its own kind of power. And whatever feeling you are feeling, in a matter of moments, you can find yourself transported…connected, inspired, reassured, seen.

William Sieghart established the Forward Prizes for Poetry in 1992, and founded National Poetry Day in 1994. He is a former chairman of the Arts Council Lottery Panel, and current chairman of both the Somerset House Trust and Forward Thinking, a charity seeking peace in the Middle East and acceptance of British Muslims. Alongside the Poetry Pharmacy series, his anthologies include Winning Words: Inspiring Poems for Everyday Life and 100 Prized Poems: Twenty-five Years of the Forward Books.

Emily Sutton graduated from Edinburgh College of Art with a degree in illustration; as well as illustrating picture books, she paints, sculpts and designs prints. Emily's previous titles for Walker include Tiny, Lots, Grow, The Christmas Eve Tree, the highly acclaimed A First Book of the Sea and her author-illustrator debut Penny and the Little Lost Dog. Visit her at her at https://emilysutton.co/shop

Everyone Sang - A Poem For Every Feeling is published by Walker Books in the UK and I think it’s available in the States too.

The telling of stories

This pair of hands belongs to a burly Cornishman with thick set arms and small eyes. I don’t know what he thought when I asked if I could photograph his knuckles. I think he was a tiny bit flattered but also bemused. It’s hard to see the H and the E on his left hand, but the letters are very much there, tattooed into his skin. HATE.

As as storyteller I’m often thinking about extremes. The best and the worst of what we are capable of as human beings, or as characters in a different narrative. I care about the characters which is I why I care about what happens next. In a way it’s part of being a writer of fiction, but it’s also part of being human - thinking about the effects one person might have on another, the consequences of a conversation, an action or perhaps an inaction. What we do and say as individuals effects not only our personal selves, but everyone we come into contact with.

This month I’m sharing a conversation that Dr. Jane Goodall has with the U.S. Senator, Cory Booker, on her new series of podcasts, or ‘Hopecasts’ as she calls them. I’m sharing this one in particular because I often worry that being a storyteller in a time of global crisis isn’t of much use. And perhaps it isn’t. There’s so much pain, so much hate. How can a story possibly help? But then again, here is a little of what she has to say and I’m once again reminded that yes, there is hate. But there is LOVE too. And it’s just as fierce, just as powerful, just as determined.

“Let’s work on the empathy. How do we do that? We tell them stories. We help them to think by spreading goodness and empathy far and wide, further and wider than the hate.” - Dr. Jane Goodall

I hope you find a moment to hear the conversation in full. It is well worth a listen.

The Jane Goodall Hopecast : Hope is Expanding Empathy and the Moral Imagination

For more on the work that Jane Goodall does: The Jane Goodall Institute

For children and young people who are interested in taking action, even on a small scale to improve their local community: Roots and Shoots

Book news...

I could not be more humbled or excited to share that I have a book coming out later this year, on September 20, 2022. This beautiful cover art was posted today on one of my favorite websites of all time, The Nerdy Book Club. It is by the gifted artist and illustrator, Diana Sudyka, and I can’t stop staring at it.

Part of me keeps looking at the words ‘by C.C.Harrington’ and wondering who that person is, because I don’t think it could be me. And it’s not me. At least, not only me. What it ought to say is Wildoak by… a whole amazing team of people at Scholastic Press who have all come together to create this particular book and share it with young readers. An amazing team at Scholastic in addition to so many equally amazing people who have supported my writing over the years - my family, my friends, critique partners and expert readers, my magical agent, all of whom read countless early drafts with patience, generosity and immense care. I thank each and every one of them for helping Wildoak get to this stage.

On one level it is a story about three different threads: an abandoned snow leopard, a child who stutters when she speaks to humans but not to animals, and an endangered forest. But in other ways it’s a book about the nuanced and varied nature of understanding. How we communicate with one another as human beings, the limitations of language as we know it and what it means to understand with empathy and compassion - to understand ourselves as unique individuals, one another in all of our differences and ultimately our shared place on this fragile and beautiful planet.

September is still a long way away, but it will soon be possible to pre-order a copy in the US through your local independent book store or online. Yay! (I can’t believe I’m even typing this.)

In the meantime, when I think about what went into the writing of this book, there are several organizations that are very close to my heart. If you have a minute I really hope you enjoy learning about each of them:

Panthera - www.panthera.org

SAY - The Stuttering Association for the Young

The Stuttering Foundation - official website

The Jane Goodall Institute - official website

And please take a peek at these too if you are not already familiar with either of them.

Scholastic - About

Diana Sudyka Fine Art - official website

Whoever you might be, thanks so much for reading this. And if you’re a writer who is struggling to continue on with your work, I know that sometimes it’s inspiring to hear about others who are at different stages, but sometimes it can feel daunting. Not long ago I wrote a post called How to keep going. Whether your work finds its way into the world or not, now or ever, I say to you what I’ve said to myself for many years and will continue to say: Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Even when it feels impossible. Keep going.

Two wishes and a song

Gentle reader whoever you may be, thank you for checking in once in a while. I hope this blog is of use to you, in some small way.

As 2021 draws to close, may we all find moments of peace and gentleness this winter. If you’re a writer I wish you an abundance of creative inspiration. If you’re a reader I wish you the time and space to get lost in a magical story.

And in the meantime, here is a song to share. It’s a favorite of mine when I’m out walking, especially in a forest. The lyrics are beautiful and make me think of my children when they were just discovering the wonders of the outside world. It was inspired by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris’ gorgeous and necessary picture book, The Lost Words. I hope you enjoy it too. Stay safe and be well.

The Lost Words Blessing

Enter the wild with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you travel far from heather, crag and river
May you like the little fisher, set the stream alight with glitter
May you enter now as otter without falter into water

Look to the sky with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you journey on past dying stars exploding
Like the gilded one in flight, leave your little gifts of light
And in the dead of night my darling,
find the gleaming eye of starling
Like the little aviator, sing your heart to all dark matter

Walk through the world with care, my love
And sing the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you stumble through machair sands eroding
Let the fern unfurl your grieving, let the heron still your breathing
Let the selkie swim you deeper, oh my little silver-seeker
Even as the hour grows bleaker, be the singer and the speaker
And in city and in forest, let the larks become your chorus
And when every hope is gone, let the raven call you home

Artists: Karine Polwart, Julie Fowlis, Seckou Keita, Kris Drever, Kerry Andrew, Bethany Porter, Rachel Newton, Jim Molyneux

The Lost Words Spell Songs official website

What to pack

The very first writer’s workshop I ever attended was in a room with pale walls and lights that were too bright.  The tables were arranged in a square.  I don’t think I said anything other than my name.  I was not familiar with most of the terms being used and felt intimidated by just about everyone and everything.  I wasn’t even sure why I was there.  We had just moved to Providence, Rhode Island and I was a new, full-time mum.  Our house was old, and the bath had recently fallen through the ceiling.  Snow permeated the gaping cracks.  Builders.  Sleeplessness. Nail guns.  Constant banging.  My husband had gently nudged me out the door.  Try it, he said. You’ve always loved writing. 

It was one of the few evening classes available that I could attend and not too expensive.  I didn’t go into it thinking, ‘I want to be a writer’.  I didn’t have any kind of outcome in mind.  I think I just missed being creative and at some point realized that I would likely be a better/happier mother and all-round human being, if I could somehow find time to make that happen.  Even if it was just a few hours a week.

A decade later, I am still writing.  I am now familiar with all of the terms the teacher used in that workshop and I’m reading Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses - a thought-provoking book that challenges much of what I experienced.  It has been something of a journey. 

jour·ney /ˈjərnē/ noun

1. an act of traveling from one place to another.

"she went on a long journey"

If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self, sitting in that workshop, self-conscious and quiet, what would I tell her to pack? What would she need for a journey that was only just beginning? She would need a number of things: imagination, determination, empathy, humility, the willingness to listen, flexibility of mind, curiosity, perseverance, courage, a case full of emergency laughter, and most importantly - heart. Then I would tell her to forget about maps and travel guides, and to be wary of ever fixating on one particular destination. 

Writing is a journey. It’s easy to get discouraged, especially when you are also juggling parenting, a day job or any of the other million complexities that go into being a human in 2021. But if you keep returning to the page, if you keep questioning and exploring, listening to what’s inside your unique self, then you will keep moving forward. And that’s all it takes to get from one place to another. 

I cannot recommend this book more highly, whether you’ve been to your first ever and only workshop / class or if you’ve been to lots.

Matthew Salesses official author website

Buy Craft In The Real World by Matthew Salesses

New York Times review of Craft In The Real World by Matthew Salesses

Our favourite children's bookshop

Each year I try to come back to the UK to visit family and friends. We couldn’t come last year for obvious reasons, but we’re here now and - despite the pelting rain and mizzly skies - I couldn’t be more grateful or excited.

There is a book shop in Cirencester called Octavia’s and it has always been a highlight for my kids whenever we come over. But this past year has been challenging and heartbreaking for so many small businesses and I was worried it might not have survived the pandemic. It HAS. I went a bit mad and bought a huge stack of new books by writers they love - many of whom are not so well known in the States. (Except for um, Michelle Obama who has released a version of Becoming for young adults.)

Anyway, as we left I was dimly aware that two years have passed since we were last here and I’m not sure how much longer my kids will be shopping in the ‘children’s’ section of any shop, let alone a bookshop. I hope the stories we got today, in fact all the stories we’ve bought from here over the years, stay with them in one way or another.

There’s something magical about a child’s eye view of the world, which is sort of what Octavia and her team are selling. In a way, we all need shops like this. So if you’re ever in the Cotswolds, look it up if you can. Independent bookstores need all the help they can get at the moment. And yes, if you can’t visit in person, they can ship your order too, perhaps not by owl, but Royal Mail will do.

Octavia’s Bookshop website - for more information on recommended reads, book club and orders.

Some of the books we got excited about and their authors:

Podkin One-Ear by Kieran Larwood

Kat Wolfe On Thin Ice by Lauren St John

Death Sets Sail by Robin Stevens

Circus Maximus by Annelise Gray

Bodyguard Hostage by Chris Bradford

Prince of Ponies by Stacy Gregg

You Are a Champion by Marcus Rashford - Booktrust article

Becoming - Adapted for younger readers - Michelle Obama review

The Strangeworlds Travel Agency by L.D. Lapinski

The limitations of reality

One of the magical things about writing for young people is that they tend to be open to just about anything. And as somebody who spends a lot of time inhabiting imaginary worlds, this is something I think about a lot.

I’m working on a new project that is grounded in reality. The main character is a boy who collects Match Attax cards, wears glasses, lives above a launderette and struggles to make friends easily. He thinks he’s not enough. Of anything. But on page 2 something happens that is categorically impossible. The question for me as a writer, is how do I keep the reader from letting go of the story? It helps, but it’s not enough to assume that children are open to anything. So what are the things I need to do to make the unbelievable believable?

It turns out there are lots of things. Specific details, precise word choice, clear setting, evocative description, authentic dialogue, body language, and so on. But there’s something else that goes beyond the nuance and fine tuning of craft. It’s to do with that thing that writers hold close, that thing that lies at the heart of what we do:

truth in story.

Which is, of course, an impossible oxymoron. How can a story be true? It’s fiction.

Here’s what I can say about this project. It’s about the kind of friendship that changes lives. True friendship. A long time ago, Huggers was my friend. He wasn’t a ‘real’ friend, and yet he was. Very much so. I know it sounds naive and ridiculous 30 years later. But it is true. He was a friend to me when I needed one. So this story is going to be for him, and for all other creatures like him, alive in ways that once transcended the limitations of reality. And perhaps, in small but important ways, always will.

This rabbit reminds me very much of my brother’s rabbit when he was younger.

For more on craft and truth in fiction:

How Fiction Works - by John Woods

For a generally inspiring toys and things to wonder at:

The Victoria and Albert Museum of Childhood

Words as footsteps

I used to listen to podcasts in the car, but during the pandemic I began walking with them instead. Which I wasn’t sure about because walking for me is a time to consciously not-think, especially while I’m writing. The not-thinking space is what my imagination needs sometimes, to loosen knots or to ask what if… But I found there were certain podcasts that I missed. Not the newsy ones - honestly, it was a relief to be missing most of those, but one or two that I would call heart-mind focused. This month I’m sharing a conversation from one of my absolute favorites - the On Being podcast - between Krista Tippett and the acclaimed writer and poet, Ocean Vuong.

Early on Tippett asks Vuong about his childhood and whether or not there were aspects of it to which he might attach the words ‘spiritual’ or ‘religious’. He talks about his exposure to certain Buddhist traditions, then says:

“And I think I embrace that in everything I do — writing, sitting with you now — how do I do it with care? And even in the temples — in many Asian-American households, when you enter the house, you take off your shoes. Now, we’re not obsessed with cleanliness any more than anyone else. But the act is an act of respect: I’m going to take off my shoes to enter something important; I’m going to give you my best self. And I think, even consciously, when I read or give lectures or when I teach, I lower my voice; I want to make my words deliberate; I want to enter — I want to take off the shoes of my voice so that I can enter a place with care, so that I can do the work that I need to do.”

‘Take off the shoes of my voice’.

I wrote that down and I thought about words as footsteps, words as footprints - markers of being, symbols of having passed this way, as trails of impact. Did I tread lightly into a conversation, onto a page, or did I stomp my way into somebody’s house, somebody’s imagination, somebody’s heart? Was I respectful in the way I used my words, put them down, left them there for others to come across?

‘Take off the shoes of my voice.’

And I was reminded, through this beautiful image, to approach my writing with deliberation and humility; with respect and care - not only for the young reader I hope to connect with, but also for the characters who present themselves, in all their vulnerability and gentleness.

The full conversation and many more that are just as thought-provoking can be found below (although just to be clear, Ocean Vuong does not write for children and some of the conversation touches on profound loss and heartbreak.)

Krista Tippett in conversation with Ocean Vuong : Life Worthy of our Breath | The On Being Project

On Being - radio and podcasts

And just in case you have any long walks to look forward to, here are a few others worth exploring:

The Penguin Podcast

The Book Love Foundation

The Hay Festival Archives