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 Today, we’re talking to Andre Norton Award finalist, Sarah Beth Durst. Her debut novel, INTO THE WILD, is an adventure that takes you into the heart of the fairy tale world. Years ago, the fairy-tale characters escaped from a magical entity called The Wild. But when The Wild begins to take over again, it’s up to Rapunzel’s daughter Julie (and her foster brother, Puss-in-Boots) to save the day. (Bonus: It’s out in paperback in one month!) The follow up, OUT OF THE WILD, is due out from Penguin Razorbill this summer. Visit Sarah’s website to find out more.
Sarah was one of my fellow contributors to the amazing new Teen Libris anthology, Though the Wardrobe, and I had a chance to chat with her about her essay, about Narnia, and about why she names lamp posts.
Diana: Tell us a little bit about your essay for THROUGH THE WARDROBE.
 Sarah: I called my essay “Missing the Point.” It’s about why the Narnia books resonate even if you completely and utterly miss all the symbolism. Kind of emotional support for the clueless. You see, I was clueless for years and years. I read the Narnia books dozens of times as a kid without noticing the slightest hint of religious allegory.
Diana: I’m with you there! Not having grown up in a religious household, I missed the symbolism when I read the books at nine. In fact, I vividly remember recommending them to a Jewish schoolmate who told me her parents didn’t let her read “Christian propaganda” and I was shocked, since I never looked at them as anything other than fantasy books. I definitely see a corollary to the way other books might be viewed as “dangerous” or “instructive” by adults, but the kids just see them as pure fun.
Sarah: I’m also the kid who completely believed the frame story in The Princess Bride, told all my friends that Inigo Montoya and Princess Buttercup were real historical figures, and then tried to back it up with encyclopedia research. Needless to say, our encyclopedia didn’t mention them. Of course, our encyclopedia was so old that the section on space travel said that maybe someday man will land on the moon…) Anyway, I thought there should be an essay for those of us who are allegorically-challenged.
Diana: Ha! I actually wrote into the publisher, as Goldman recommends, to get the “missing love scene.” However, I never received the response that details the various and sundry legal problems Goldman (and the hilarious lawyer, Kermit Shog) dealt with. So you’re not alone in your beliefs! What is your favorite Narnia book?
Sarah: I love, love, love the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. As a kid, I used to check my closet pretty much daily in case it spontaneously opened onto another world. (I also checked it for monsters, but that’s just plain common sense. Everyone knows monsters are attracted to the smell of shoes.) I don’t check the closet quite as often any more, but I do call the lamppost outside my house the Faun Tumnus Lamppost. I think the images and moments in that book imprinted on my brain so early and so strongly that they still, on occasion, influence how I see the world.
Diana: I was always a Dawn Treader girl, myself. That’s certainly the one I read the most (I still read it at least once a year, to this day). What Narnia character would you like to be and why? If you were to fall into a Narnian book, which one would it be?
Sarah: I’d like to be the talking lion in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I don’t mean Aslan — way too much pressure and expectation there. I mean the random minor character at the end of the book who is overjoyed to help the heroes in the climactic battle. That would be me: not the hero, but totally thrilled to be hanging out around so much magical stuff. Plus it would be fun to be a lion.
Diana: I totally remember that lion, how he frolicked around while Aslan released the other stone creatures from the Witch’s castle! Great choice!
Sarah: As far as which book, I think I’d want to be in Narnia during The Magician’s Nephew. Safely before the White Witch begins her winter (I wouldn’t like being there in the cold) and safely before the world is destroyed and everyone dies but we’re supposed to be happy about it (I wouldn’t like being there in an apocalypse).
Diana: Do not get me started ranting on The Last Battle. And, speaking of things that tick me off about the series, How do you feel about the “new ordering” of the books, and the so-called logic behind it? Are you a “Publicationist” or a “Chronologist”?
Sarah: Publicationist!!! Reading The Magician’s Nephew first is like watching a making-of documentary before you see a movie. If you’re re-reading the books, then chronological is fine, but for new readers… One of the coolest moments in the Magician’s Nephew is when you learn the origin of the lamppost. This totally loses all its coolness if you have no idea about the significance of the lamppost.
Diana: Ah, a girl after my own heart. (I actually rant a bit about this in my essay.) How do you think that the Narnia books have influenced your own writing?
Sarah: One of the reasons that I’ve always loved the Narnia books is that the heroes and heroines are ordinary kids. Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Jill Pole, Eustace… none of them have special powers or are revealed as the long-prophesied Chosen One. I like that. Julie, the heroine of my novels, INTO THE WILD and OUT OF THE WILD, is completely ordinary. Okay, yes, she’s the daughter of Rapunzel, but Julie didn’t get any magical fairy-tale powers out of the deal. In fact, the whole fairy-tale thing just makes her life more complicated. You think your family is embarrassing? Wait until you have dinner with the seven dwarves. Anyway, I know my fondness for stories that involve ordinary characters facing impossible odds stems from the Narnia books.
Diana: That’s true. Modern fantasy does seem to be chockers with Chosen Ones. However, aren’t the Pevensies prophesized? Four thrones at Cair Paravel, etc.? Still, they have no special powers, and that makes it very accessible to you normal people who can’t do magic… Um, was that out loud? Moving on. How did you like the first Narnia movie? What are your plans for the release of Prince Caspian?
Sarah: I loved the first Narnia movie, and I can’t wait for Prince Caspian. My plan involves popcorn. Lots of popcorn. And a soda, but not a large soda because I don’t want to have to sneak out mid-movie in search of a bathroom. Very important to be careful of such things. I practically dehydrated myself to make it through Lord of the Rings. Anyway, soda or not, I’ll definitely be there!
Diana: Oh, I hate the mid-movie bathroom run! All the great scenes I’ve missed due to that! I really think we should re-instate the intermission for the long, fantasy epics. (Or the ridiculously long Judd Apatow comedies!)
Sarah: Thanks for all the great questions, Diana!
Diana: And thanks for coming, Sarah!
To all the readers: In honor of Sarah’s visit, I’m giving away a copy of her debut, INTO THE WILD. Leave your name and your favorite Narnian moment in the comments section to be entered into the drawing, and stay tuned for more Narnia coverage and giveaways.
I know I said this was going to be an all-Narnia week, but I got distracted on Thursday night and then crashed as soon as I got home from the Washington Romance Writers retreat on Sunday, so you find me unprepared this morning. Hold your horses (Talking and otherwise), and I’ll get back to you.
In passing, it was a great weekend. Heard some good speeches, went to some cool workshops, started on a collage for the fourth SSG book, but, most importantly, had lots of good gab time with my fellow writers, Amanda Brice, Carrie Ryan, and Kresley Cole.
Carrie and I gave away a basket at the raffle, and if I were smart, I would have taken a picture of it first, but I totally forgot. Shame. It looked awesome! It was called “Sunshine and Shadow: for the Teen at Heart” and was a beach tote filled with all sorts of YA and YA-friendly goodies on both the dark and light side of the spectrum. My side (light) had sunglasses, glittery nail polish, a DVD of one of my favorite teen movies, Bring it On, a cute, beachy candle with sand and seashells on it, an ARC of Rites of Spring (Break), and truffles. Her side (dark) had these gorgeous rose-shaped string lights, dark nail polish, clubbing makeup, a DVD of one of my other favorite teen movies, Ginger Snaps, gummy worms, The Zombie Survival Guide, and a very special chapbook from Carrie’s debut novel, The Forest of Hands and Teeth.
It was very hard for me to resist throwing raffle tickets in for myself.
Sophia Nash won the basket. She claims she’s giving it to her daughter.
My favorite workshop was the one Kresley gave on working in the paranormal market. Enlightening and candid. She also opened it up at the end so the other writers in the room working in that market could talk about their own experiences. Pamela Palmer, who writes for Silhouette Nocturne and Avon, had some great insights.
I also got to chat with Emmanuelle Alspaugh from Wendy Sherman Associates, who represents debut author Danielle Younge-Ullman, whose book finalled in the very first Stiletto Contest back in 2004. And I had an extra-long dinner with Tracy Farrell of Harlequin, wherein we all grilled her about the new YA line.
Speaking of Tracy Farrell and Harlequin, guess what I have in my hot little hands? Gena Showalter’s The Darkest Night. I know. Are you jealous? I read the first three chapters online the other day and I knew I had to have the whole thing. Imagine my joy when I discovered a copy in my retreat goodie bag!
Of course, first I have to finish my revisions, and get this Narnia ball rolling.
And, of course, see the new Harold and Kumar. Because Neil Patick Harris on a Unicorn is basically my dream come true.
 I currently have an essay out in an anthology called
Through the Wardrobe: Your Favorite Authors on C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia.
(I wish that was a direct link to buy, but since the book is a Borders Store exclusive, you can’t get it on Amazon or BN.com. However, I’ve seen copies in just about every Borders store I’ve visited recently, so run run run and pick up yours!)
It’s edited by bestselling fantasy author Herbie Brennan, and you can usually find it in the Young Adult section of your local Borders. Here’s the isbn:
ISBN-10#: 0979233135
ISBN-13#: 9780979233135
- Why is Prince Caspian the ultimate teenager?
- What does Narnia have to do with the Nazis?
- How come C. S. Lewis has such a big problem with lipstick, anyway?
Step through the wardrobe … and into the imaginations of sixteen friends of Aslan as they explore Narnia, from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to The Last Battle, from the heart of Caspian’s kingdom to the Eastern Seas.
Join in on the adventure, the battles, and—of course—the celebrating!
Find out:
- How in Narnia (like in our world), bigger isn’t always better
- Why Edmund Pevensie is totally crush-worthy
- What tea and Turkish Delight have to do with religion
- And why it’s okay to have an occasional temper tantrum
With Essays From …
- Herbie Brennan
- Deb Caletti
- Diane Duane
- Sarah Beth Durst
- Brent Hartinger
- Susan Juby
- Sophie Masson
- Kelly McClymer
- O.R. Melling
- Lisa Papademetriou
- Diana Peterfreund
- Susan Vaught
- Ned Vizzini
- Elizabeth Wein
- Zu Vincent and Kiara Koenig
My essay is called “King Edmund the Cute” and it’s about my vast love for the character of Edmund Pevensie.
A recent review of the anthology has this to say about my essay:
“Don’t let any of the essay titles fool you! Diana Peterfreund’s essay “ King Edmund the Cute” may seem like it’s about one of those raving fan girl crushes on a literary character of Edmund Pevensie, but instead it ends up being in the end a thoughtful, insightful analysis of the character.”
The same site interviewed our Benbella series editor, the fabulous Leah Wilson:
JS: Do you have a favorite essay in Through the Wardrobe? If so, why?
LW: It’s very dangerous to play favorites, but I will mention two I think were particularly inventive: “King Edmund the Cute,” a fantastically engaging, smart account of Diana Peterfreund’s childhood crush on Edmund Pevensie; and “Eating in Narnia,” a topic that’s been well-covered but that Diane Duane treats in a very fresh, charming, and earthy way, starting with the insight that Narnia, unique among fantasy worlds, is a place you’d actually want to go for dinner.
Oh yeah. You know you want to read it now!
All next week, there will be special blog posts celebrating the release of this book, with appearances by me fellow contributors, and giveaways. Stay tuned!
I’m almost positive that I’ve previously posted about all the manuscripts I’ve written in the past, but after searching the blog, I can’t find the post, and the topic is making its way around the blogosphere again, so I’ll share mine:
The Juvenilia: Many, many short stories, both for school projects and on my own. I took my school short story projects very seriously, and my prom date can testify how bitter I was when the Chaucer “tale” contest entry I slaved over tied for first with the one he scrawled out during lunch period. Luckily, we had the same group of friends, so the pizza party we got as a reward was still a fun time. And when I sold my first novel, said prom date, now a successful engineer and international businessman, saw fit to remind me of his fabulous native storytelling ability.
This may in fact inspire Amy’s latent jealousy of Brandon, the math major who writes stories in his spare time. Hmmmm, must think on that.
In high school, I got my hands on a copy of a “how to write a novel” book, and planned out a series of historical romances (I was a Johanna Lindsay fan) as well as an epic fantasy (huge fan of Marion Zimmer Bradley and Frank Herbert). Both got a few chapters in.
The College Years, part one: Many more short stories. This is also when I discovered fanfic, which I used as a type of literary training wheels, practicing dialogue, pacing, etc. while getting to be lazy with premise and characters. Once I found myself creating stories which focused more on the original characters than the fanfic regulars, I moved on. The other thing I liked about fanfic was the opportunity it gave for reader feedback.
The College Years, part two: Junior year, I wrote an epistolary historical novella as a project for one of my classes. It was awesome. I got an A+, and the instructor said I should be a novelist. (A year later, I gave it to my new boyfriend, Sailor Boy, and he reiterated her opinion.) This was rare, rare praise at Yale, where the general consensus seemed to be that if you weren’t going to go for some Novel Prize in Literature, you had no right to pursue a fiction writing career. If you were an actor, you could do soap operas or sitcoms or romantic comedies, but writing was *different*. It was a discouraging atmosphere.
The summer after my junior year, I plotted out a contemporary romance about a wedding planner. I knew nothing about weddings or wedding planners. As a nail in the coffin, a romantic comedy came out around the same time with the same plot that was neither romantic nor funny. I didn’t get very far in the story (see earlier bit about knowing nothing about weddings), and gave it up, though that didn’t save me from snarky comments by my ex-boyfriend, who’d watched me work on the project, when he heard about the film.
Of course, that was the ex-boyfriend who thought it would be “better for his career” if I concentrated on writing children’s picture books rather than romances. Yeah, I know. I know. My 29-year-old self is appalled. I always think of this argument whenever I see that Laura Bush or insert-celebrity-here has a children’s picture book out. Apparently, writing children’s books makes you seem warm and fuzzy, and is good PR for you/your husband.
The College Years, part three: My senior year, I took my one fiction writing class. I thought the instructor was a snob and wrote my final project (a Hawthorne homage ghost story) in defiance of the way his voice always dripped with disdain when he used the word “genre.” I wrote two stories I was very, very proud of. Sailor Boy liked them too. With his encouragement, I decided to try my hand again at writing a novel after graduation. I’d just learned about RWA, but it was way too pricey to join if I wasn’t going to be serious about it (and I had stacks of notebooks in my closet which indicated that, perhaps, I wouldn’t be). I set myself a challenge. If I could finish a draft of a novel, then I could join RWA.
Manuscript #1: The challenge novel. What with graduating from college, launching my freelance journalism career, and a foray into a series of questionable employment opportunities in post 9/11 Manhattan, it took me more than a year to finish. It was a contemporary category romance novel aimed at Harlequin Temptation. It had an utterly ridiculous plot involving a mistaken identity runaway bride in a wedding dress with stolen diamonds sewed into the hem. And a bartender obsessed with the movie Harvey. It was a reunion story. Finishing it was one of the proudest moments of my life. I’d written a whole book. I remember going through the day in a cloud, and thinking, over and over again, that it was all downhill from there. I’d written a book, I knew I could do it, now the only trick was writing a GOOD one.
I know. I know. But the psychological effect of writing a whole novel cannot be denied, and I recommend new writers seriously push themselves to finish something rather than flitting from half-finished manuscript to half-finished manuscript, or querying something before they’ve written a complete anything.
I queried it, got a partial request, and received a very nice rejection letter eight months later, while halfway through MS #3.
Manuscript #2: I started this halfway through writing MS#1, when it became clear to me that my first attempt was not quite the barn burner I’d hoped. This one got high marks in several contests, finalled in a couple, and won a Maggie Award. It was a category romance about a glass blower and a celebrity pastry chef. Super sexy. It got a full request, then a revision request, and then one line closed and another opened and I was revising it for that, and I was living in Australia and time went on and in the end, the revisions were still under consideration when I sold my first book and withdrew the submission so I could concentrate on fulfilling my first contract.
Manuscript #3: This manuscript was an action adventure targeted toward Silhouette Bombshell, which had been announced, but not launched. It finalled in a couple of contests, got a few requests, and the most in depth rejection letter I’ve ever received. It also garnered me my first agent request (and rejection). I love this book. I love the characters. I feel that writing this book was a great leap forward in my craft.
The unfinisheds: I wrote parts of a whole bunch of things. Another category romance I lost interest in half-way through, but used a secondary character as the heroine in my next completed manuscript. A sexy novella aimed at Kensington Brava. First chapters of a few more novels, stuff like that.
Manuscript #4: A contemporary paranormal romance about a skeptical journalist and a ghost hunter on a haunted island. Finalled in a bunch of contests, received a ton of requests, launched my first agent search, received a ton of rejections (it was a tough sell in a paranormal market focused on stories where at least one of the main characters was a paranormal creature of some sort), a few more requests, and before I got my final few answers back, I sold.
Manuscript #5: Secret Society Girl.
Manuscript #6: Under the Rose.
Manuscript #7: Rites of Spring (Break)
Manuscript #8: Rampant. I started this one before UTR, but finished it last.
I’m now part way through Manuscript #9, which will be the fourth SSG book. After that, I’m writing the second book in my YA contract. After that, anything goes 
Oh, and to answer the question in advance: no, I have no plans to revive any of the manuscripts I wrote before selling. I loved them and worked hard on them, and appreciated what I gained from them (I still wear my Maggie Award on a regular basis), but I’ve moved on to new projects now.
To help track the various threads in my book during revisions, I made a new plot board. It’s probably the most complex I’ve ever made, due to the fact that it focuses on threads I wanted to make sure got their fair share of screentime, as well as plots and subplots.
Voila:
Ah, a thing of beauty and a joy forever. Until, of course, I start digging in there and rearranging stuff.
As I plow through some line edits, I am once again struck by what a very aural writer I can be. I have been known, at times, to put down homophones of the word I mean write. (This can get very confusing to copyeditors, editors, critique partners. I’ve been in situations where I get back critiques where I’m incredibly confused, though clearly not half as confused as the reader, who has been wrestling with the text and trying to come up with a rational interpretation for whatever it is I’m accidentally saying — such as the sudden appearance of a grizzly sighting on the streets of Rome or an island off the Florida coast.
It may be a reason I wrestle so with names, because to me, it’s the sound of a name that really affects my interpretation of it. I was at a workshop about names with writer Jo Beverly a few years back, and she rocked my world by explaining that the name Caitlin, so common in America (pronounced “Kate-lyn”), is in Wales pronounced “Kath-leen” (and in Ireland “Koyt-hleen” and if you go on the internet, people argue about it constantly!)
One of my CPs, by contrast, is very visual. It doesn’t matter to her as much what the names sound like, as long as they don’t look the same. She’s very conscious of how many names start with the same letter. (Since I am writing a book series with a Jenny, a Josh, and a Jamie, you can see that it’s not something I notice as much!) After reading an early draft of my latest book, she asked if I’d intentionally given an uncle and his niece the names Cornelius and Cornelia. (Yes. And their nicknames are way different.) And that, on top of a Caitlin (the American way), was too much for her.
And on the other end of the spectrum, I guess that also depends on how you pronounce things. For example, I do not pronounce the word Mary like I pronounce the word marry, so I missed out completely on a joke that one of my CPs other readers kept making in regards to her manuscript. However, I am aware of unintentional rhymes I may have built into my own work.
What about you? Do you notice sounds or signs?
I’ve been a lazy blogger this week, but I promise I will get it together and have something very special to read on here next week.
The weather here has been gorgeous, which is especially nice for my current occupation, which is (oh joy!) not sitting front of a computer watching my hips spread. I’ve been spending a lot of time outside, enjoying the bright sunshine and the beautiful spring flowers. This morning, I dropped by some friends’ house, and the special double tulips they gave away as bulbs at their wedding were blooming all along their front walk.
It never ceases to amaze me how different it feels to live in the North. I never appreciated springtime in Florida. But here, everything blooms. Cherry blossoms and lilacs and entire lawns (the less tended, the better!) covered in dandelions and violets. It’s stunning!
Okay, enough about pretty pretty flowers.
Despite the fact that this is tax week, I’m having one of those “love to be a writer” weeks. My YA editor has been sharing some ideas for the book that have me so excited. And I’m starting to hear back from the few family members and friends that have a copy of the Rites of Spring (Break) ARC, and, though I know they love me, so they’re a bit biased when it comes to my book, it’s still nice to hear.
My dad: “This one is suspenseful. I like it best of all the books you’ve let me read.”
(My dad’s a little bitter about how I didn’t let him read my stuff until I was contracted.)
My sub-rights agent: “This is the best so far.”
(It’s nice when people get paid to say stuff like that.)
My sister-in-law: “Finished the book last night. Loved it! Especially the [spoilers redacted] storyline. Thought it was great!”
My brother: “I’ll read it after my exam.”
(Before my sister in law was my sister in law, she and her boyfriend/my brother gave me great insight into the first book, since they were, at the time, students at an Ivy League College, and practically Amy’s age — Amy ages much more slowly than a real person. Bro and sis should probably get consultancy credits, but I seriously could not afford what I know their going rates are these days.)
My best friend: “Oh! I just hit the part where, you know, [huge giant spoilers redacted].” (She casts a guilty look at her husband.) “Well, I already told you that part.” (Husband looks nonplussed.) “It’s so awesome. I almost missed my train stop. In fact, I want to go back to reading it right now.” (We were in the middle of dinner at the time.)
(My best friend’s husband apparently laughed out loud when reading my first book, which is the highest praise I can imagine, since I’ve been trying to make him laugh since we were in high school and have succeeded approximately twice.)
I know that the general population doesn’t give a fig if my mother in law’s sister’s roommate’s dogwalker likes my book, but I feel so grateful that my friends and family read my books, even if they are way out of their usual genre (my best friend), even if they don’t generally read novels (my dad), and even if I can’t for the life of me understand what it is they do for a living (my one brother). It’s really sweet and considerate and I love them for it.
NEWSFLASH: First ever (that I’ve seen) review for Rites of Spring (Break) at Teen Book Review. Quote of note:
I loved every second of the time I spent reading this book! Diana Peterfreund has a way with words that will have you spending hours devouring this novel when you only meant to read a chapter or two. I love all of the interesting characters present in this book, although there were some who I wished were a little more present, and, really, Rites of Spring (Break) has so much awesomeness in it that you can’t help but love the book. There’s romance, secret society rivalry, mysteries, a vicious prankster, a private island, conspiracy theorists–basically, everything you need for a delightfully fun pageturner. I love Amy’s voice, too, funny and smart and witty and just awesome.
Today, I am blogging at 70 Days of Sweat. The theme of the post is as follows:
You do not like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say.
- Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr. Seuss
Writer, buddy, and agency sistah Kwana Jackson is hosting her agent, Elaine Spencer, on her blog for a Q&A. Any burning questions for an agent? Ask away!
On another agency front, Jessica Faust of Bookends has this sage piece of advice:
An example of that is when I said that I see a lot of insurance adjustor mysteries and many of you commented that you’ve never seen one. Because what we sometimes see a lot of are not things that ever get published—ask Kim about books on cloning Jesus.
Good to keep in mind. What you might think of as “fresh” since you don’t see it on the shelves may be what an agent has rejected seventy of since she knows she can’t get it in the door. Interesting, no?
You ever have so many things to blog about you don’t know where to start? On the craft front, I want to talk about Lilith Saintcrow’s controversial “Write Every Day” blog post on Fangs Fur Fey (which I agree with, btw, because it’s not about “writing every day.” It’s about being a pro). I want to talk about Holly Black’s recent post on writerly joy translating into readerly joy, too.
I’m also in the midst of planning from very special blog content for the coming week. Stay tuned!
But spring has sprung here in D.C. The cherry blossoms are waving merrily in the breeze, it’s sunny as heck outside (if cold, today), and I’ve got a nice fresh batch of purple tulips on the table. I love tulips. I thought that white ones were my favorite, but you know, these purple ones, in a lovely purple vase I got for my wedding? Just as nice.
And I’ve been catching up on reading? In the mad deadline rush of the past few months, I have let my to-be-read pile languish away. And now I’ve got heaps of books I’ve been dying to read and hadn’t. I’ve already read two. I’m switching back and forth between two more, trying to decide which one captures me first.
And I’m gearing up for my third book release, which happens in SEVENTY DAYS. Lots of stuff on the docket for that.
So you can see why I may be a bit distracted from the blog…
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Today, we’re talking to Andre Norton Award finalist, Sarah Beth Durst. Her debut novel, INTO THE WILD, is an adventure that takes you into the heart of the fairy tale world. Years ago, the fairy-tale characters escaped from a magical entity called The Wild. But when The Wild begins to take over again, it’s up to Rapunzel’s daughter Julie (and her foster brother, Puss-in-Boots) to save the day. (Bonus: It’s out in paperback in one month!) The follow up, OUT OF THE WILD, is due out from Penguin Razorbill this summer. Visit Sarah’s website to find out more.
Sarah: I called my essay “Missing the Point.” It’s about why the Narnia books resonate even if you completely and utterly miss all the symbolism. Kind of emotional support for the clueless. You see, I was clueless for years and years. I read the Narnia books dozens of times as a kid without noticing the slightest hint of religious allegory.
