Caroline Starr Rose

picture book and middle-grade author

Classroom Connections: Frances and the Werewolves of the Black Forest by Refe Tuma

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age range: 8-12
genre: gothic monster; historical fiction
Refe Tuma’s website

Praise for the Frances series

A rollicking adventure.
—Kirkus Reviews

⭐️ Bursting with wry humor and references to Frankenstein, Tuma’s idiosyncratic, utterly original tale moves at breakneck speed through a richly imagined landscape, accumulating vividly rendered characters and settings…while injecting considered discussions of modern themes such as gender roles and privilege.
— Publisher’s Weekly (STARRED REVIEW)

Frances is both a terror and a delight. The author clearly had a rollicking good time, and readers will, too.
— The Horn Book

Please tell us about your book.

Frances and the Werewolves of the Black Forest is the epic sequel to my debut novel for middle grade readers, Frances and the Monster. 

In book one, readers saw Frances’s life upended by the discovery of a secret experiment left unfinished by her late great-grandfather, the eccentric and reclusive scientist Albrecht Grimme. Frances wanted so desperately to prove to her parents she was no longer the sickly child that barely survived a traumatic automobile accident when she was three, and that she was ready to join them on their trip to the latest scientific symposium. Instead, she awakened a monster that nearly destroyed her home and a nearby city.

Frances and the Werewolves of the Black Forest picks up a few months later, when Frances is finally invited to travel with her parents to a special meeting of the prestigious European Society of Science and Invention—the very thing she has wanted for as long as she could remember. Only now, she has a secret she must keep from them at all costs. A secret that, if discovered, could mean her first trip is also her last.

Keeping this secret is further complicated when her train is hijacked by men with unknown motives. She is forced to flee with her friend Luca into the Black Forest, a vast and wild expanse of trees and shadows and beasts. She quickly learns there are forces at work more terrifying than she ever imagined…and that the key to defeating them might lie in her own scientific discoveries.

What inspired you to write this story?

Frances and the Monster was my love letter to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the classic movies it inspired, along with another tale some believe may have influenced Shelley: The Magician’s Apprentice. Both stories deal with hubris, ambition, and impatience with established processes and systems. I’ll admit these topics may not seem all that appropriate for young readers. At least, until you remember what it feels like to be in such a hurry to skip past all the inconveniences of youth—the waiting, the learning, the reliance on older, more experiences members of the community—and just grow up already. This was a big theme of my childhood, and one of the things that has made Frances such a compelling character to write.

Frances and the Werewolves of the Black Forest, on the other hand, is a celebration the monster genre in all its forms, from Frankenstein’s original creation to the Wolf Man, to zombies and the living dead. Many believe monster stories to be less “literary” than other genres, sacrificing thematic depth for cheap pulp or jump scares. I couldn’t disagree more. In fact, I’d argue there is no genre better equipped for deep examinations of grief, fear, anxiety, acceptance and inclusion, and morality.  

This sequel is also a natural expansion on the themes of friendship, family, and ethics explored in Frances and the Monster. Frances sees her world continue to expand exponentially, in terms of both geography and relationships. She’s must process the shocking revelations about her parents uncovered during her climactic showdown with Constable Montovan at the end of the first book and decide what ‘family’ means to her. At the same time, a new cast of colorful characters challenges Frances to learn to let people in rather than going it alone, to trust them rather than protecting herself by keeping them at arm’s length.

Could you share with readers how you conducted your research and / or share a few interesting tidbits about your writing process with this book?

Historical fiction comes alive when readers are given a glimpse of a specific time and place that feels authentic and lived in.

Frances and the Werewolves of the Black Forest is set in May of 1940, during the early days of WWII. While the story is not about the war per se, the plot is tightly connected to a very specific and very real historical event (to say more would be to spoil the fun!) It was important to me to be as accurate as possible in my portrayal of both this event, and anything else related to the conflict. That meant juggling a lot of dates, locations, and logistical concerns.

That devotion to authenticity is also why the train Frances rides in is based on an actual train, the Edelweiss Pullman (which is still in operation today!) and follows the line’s actual route. And why the landmarks Frances encounters in the Black Forest are based on actual sites as she would have found them in 1940. Even the more fantastical elements are designed to reflect the ideas of the day. In this case, terrifying ideas that explored the darker corners of science and warfare and destruction. Most of these ideas were never realized, of course—but what if they had been? 

Another aspect of the story I’m particularly proud of is its representation of a deaf character named Otto, and of a wheelchair user named Rudy. I consulted with several sensitivity and authenticity readers to ensure these characters were represented accurately and respectfully, and that both contributed to the story in ways that would invite deaf and disabled readers to see themselves as heroes in the text. If you’ve read Frances and the Monster, you know sign language has always been a part of Frances’s world, and it was exciting to dive deeper into signing and the unique challenges and opportunities it affords.

What were some special challenges associated with writing Frances?

I first outlined the Frances series nearly ten years ago. At the time, I envisioned book two as a kind of classic WWII swashbuckler in the vein of The Adventures of Tintin or Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Plucky heroes using their wits to outsmart the evil Nazis. This didn’t seem unusual or insensitive at the time. (In fact, I remember querying the first book and having an agent reject the manuscript with the note that she wanted “more Nazi hijinks!”)

Unfortunately, it’s become clear that Nazis are no longer a relic of the past; a distant villain to be defeated and humiliated again and again by new and different heroes. If they ever were. My editor and I agreed that this book wasn’t the right context for what could very well be some young readers’ first introduction to historical Nazi Germany, and I rethought my outline with new, fictional villains created specifically for Frances’s journey.

It was a difficult decision, but in the end, I think it was the right one. The story’s fictional villains ended up providing so many great opportunities for more nuanced motivations and worldbuilding, without the risk of unintentionally minimizing or misrepresenting the very real evils of the day. In my humble opinion, the story is better for it.

Another, completely different kind of challenge had to do with the setting. Forest settings in literature always run the risk of feeling somewhat generic. Anyone who has spent time wandering wooded areas can tell you that if you’re not paying attention, the landscape can really start to blend together. Trees here, trees there. One ravine looks like the next. This is even more true when attempting to describe the woods. 

It was important that every scene feels distinctive, and that the reader is always given something to anchor them to where exactly one scene takes place versus the next.

Careful readers may notice that the descriptions of the forest change as Frances becomes more familiar with her new environment. At first, she can’t tell one tree from the next. As the story goes on, however, she becomes more attuned to the landscape. She notices specific foliage, terrain, and landmarks, and thus so does the reader.

What topics does your book touch upon that would make it a perfect fit for the classroom?

Frances’s adventures are full of fantastical technology, strange and visceral science experiments, and clever acts of creativity and ingenuity. These elements pair perfectly with STEAM programs because they inspire readers to think outside the box and get messy. What middle schooler could read about a pig’s heart being accidentally vaporized and not want to rush to the science lab themselves?

In addition to the STEAM connections, Frances and the Werewolves is a book about choices and their implications. Challenge after challenge forces Frances to choose between what is easy and hard, safe and risky. She must choose who to trust, who to rely on, who to believe—even, more than once, who will live and who will die. These moral and ethical dilemmas are ripe for classroom discussion and personal essays, giving students a safe, fictional environment in which to explore complex issues and consider how they might respond, and why.

After all, isn’t that what good stories are all about?

Quick Lit: What I’ve Been Reading Lately

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Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

This book weaves together the lives of five characters, taking readers from fifthteenth-century Constantinople to a twenty-second century starship seeking a home far from an uninhabitable earth. What joins the stories together is a (fictional) ancient Greek text called Cloud Cuckoo Land that each character encounters. The deeper the reader goes into the story, the more the reader learns these five lives are also somehow intertwined. One detail I loved (this is spoiler-y but minimally so) was that for centuries scholars argued over the order of the stories within Cloud Cuckoo Land, but Doerr allows children performing the text as a play to be the ones who find the best way to tell the story (as they are the ones who best understand it).

I’m not sure how to describe this book (maybe an ambitious feat successfully accomplished?), but I felt like I was in really good hands as I went along for the ride. I was sad to see it end. I loved the idea that stories change and shape us, that they are a unifying force across time and space and place.

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

Death Comes for the Archbishop was required reading in my high school honors English class. It’s the fictional account of New Mexico’s first bishop (who then became the first archbishop), Jean-Baptiste Lamy (called Jean Marie Latour in the book). It was one of my picks for my Dead Authors Society book club this year, and I think it’s my favorite I’ve read with these friends.

The book opens with Latour’s appointment of bishop in the recently-formed New Mexico territory. Though his appointment comes from Rome, those in Santa Fe don’t recognize his authority at first, and he must ride to Mexico to prove himself. It’s a story of different cultures (the Mexicans and Indians dealing with the newcomer Americans; the French priest learning the ways of his new people), of church politics (what was allowed in this distant outpost wasn’t always acceptable to Rome), of friendship (with Latour comes his seminary friend and fellow missionary, Joseph Vaillant), and of enduring faith. Everything unfolds before the gorgeousness that is New Mexico. Cather had a reverence for my home that fills my heart with joy! Her descriptions are perfection. In one section where she writes about Acoma Pueblo, she spent a page describing cloud formations over mesas. Stunning.

Older books (this was first published in 1926) often contain problematic portions (and this book has some of those), yet I was surprised at the way Cather wrote of the Navajo internment Camp at Bosque Redondo and the subsequent Long Walk (and Kit Carson’s role in the travesty. Carson is Latour’s friend in the book, which makes it even more complicated). This chapter could have been written today.

I loved this book with everything in me. I’m excited at a later date to re-read Cather’s My Antonia and finally read O Pioneers!

The Boy Who Drew Birds: A Story of John James Audubon by Jacqueline Davies, illustrated by Melissa Sweet

I checked out this picture book biography to read as a mentor text. It focuses on a Audubon’s younger years, and I’m playing with an idea about doing something similar with another figure from history. The story begins with a teenage Audubon new to America and curious about the birds outside his window. He wonders if birds truly return to their nests and if their hatchlings return to nest nearby. He bands the hatchlings with a silver thread — the first person known to band birds in North America — and discovers the theory is true.

With beautiful illustrations by Melissa Sweet, The Boy Who Drew Birds would be a wonderful companion book to The Girl Who Drew Butterflies: How Maria Merian’s Art Changed Science by Joyce Sidman.

It’s time! Get ready! Author visits for 2023-2024

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School visits are one of my greatest joys. So much of the writing life is a solitary activity, and it is beyond wonderful to connect with young readers, to interact with the kids I do this book writing for. A number of you who read here are teachers, librarians, or parents engaged in your children’s education. With that in mind, I want to share with you information on the visits I offer — in-person and virtual — and, if you’re interested, how you might arrange a visit for your school, library, or homeschool co-op this year. Read on!

I offer a variety of presentations for grades K-8. Some tie in with specific books. Others focus on everything from the writing process, creating characters, and exploring poetry, to history, ecology, and geography. A typical visit includes three separate presentations, a lunch with students that teachers or librarians have selected beforehand, and the opportunity to purchase personalized books through a local bookstore. (These books will be available for distribution the day of the visit.) Schools can pick one presentation to be repeated three times or choose a variety of presentations — for example, one for K-1, another for 2-3, and a third for 4-5. Click through to see which presentations might best suit your community. Almost all presentations can be adapted for Zoom or Skype. 

Why invite an author to your school?

A survey on author visits* revealed some amazing statistics:

  • 91% of those who responded said author visits “motivate[d] students to read more”
  • 74% felt visits inspired “creativity and expression”
  • 68% believed visits “motivate[d] students to write more”

* 2014 Author Visit Survey by Alexis O’Neill. Over 600 respondents in thirty-nine states and eight countries.

The UK’s National Literacy Trust reported in June 2019 that students who had authors visit their schools:

  • “Were twice as likely to read above their expected level for their age”
  • “Were more likely to enjoy reading and writing”
  • “Were more likely to be highly confident in their reading”

I’d like you to visit, but how much does it cost? And how do I schedule a visit?

I work with booking agent Julie Ann Hartman (julieann@thebookingbiz.com) of the Booking Biz (https://thebookingbiz.com/client/caroline-starr-rose/). Feel free to click through to my Booking Biz page or reach out of Julie Ann directly to learn more.

What if my school isn’t in New Mexico?

No matter! I am happy to travel. We can also meet virtually.

Any creative tips on funding an author visit?

Sometimes PTAs pay to bring an author in. I’ve had schools use money set aside for field trips (viewing an author visit as a field trip that comes to the school). Consider using funds earmarked for literacy programs. Apply for any number of grants that cover author visits. Or think of creative ways your school might raise money to fund a visit.

Here’s to a year of reading and writing and learning. May it be the best yet!

Why We Read

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To be diverted from a troublesome idea I need only have recourse to books: they easily turn my thoughts to themselves and steal away the others… I cannot tell you what ease and repose I find when I reflect that they [books] are at my side to give me pleasure at my own time, and when I recognize how much assistance they bring to my life. It is the best provision I have found for this human journey.
— Michel de Montaigne

A Coconut Cake and a Cottontail Thief

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In July I…

  • Celebrated my twenty-eighth anniversary.
  • Critiqued two picture books and one chapter book.

  • Read through The Burning Season a couple of times in preparation for edits. This ended up being a 21+ hour endeavor that showed me a lot of areas where the manuscript is lacking. I tossed and rewrote sections fully knowing they might end up gone in some future version. But writing is always a learning experience and no effort is ever wasted.

  • Made Emily Dickinson’s coconut cake, which was very tasty but a little dry. (If I make it again, I’ll soak the coconut in water first.)
  • Thinned the apple trees (probably later than I should have, but apple trees are new to me).

  • Chased deer from my backyard dozens of times. (They’re fond of the apple trees. Above is one of the crew heading to my backyard.)
  • Played plenty of Scrabble.
  • Watched plenty of Yellowstone.
  • Sent Song of the Raven to my critique partners. Cut out the aimless “to-ing and fro-ing” and the cogitating that slowed the last third down. Sent it on to my agent — fingers crossed!

  • Made a compost bin out of a storage tub.
  • Covered my garden after discovering eggplants and tomatoes missing.

Writing and Reading Links

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Mainly picture books on this best children’s books list with a few middle grades and The New Kid on the Block poetry collection thrown in (which contains the Goopy Gloppers poem — a long-time Rose family favorite). I was so surprised not to see Charlotte’s Web included. Did I somehow miss it?!
The 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time :: Time

“You have to really love your idea. It has to be something from deep within. It has to be personal. It has to excite you on a deep level. Because you’re going to have to persevere for several years. There are going to be a lot of critics, a lot of mean-spirited people are gonna say, ‘You can never do that!’”
You Have to Really Love Your Idea :: Austin Kleon

“Be wildly in love with your own creativity! Truly delight yourself in what you’re making!” This one fits so nicely with the Austin Kleon post above.
Be Wildly In Love with Your Own Creativity :: Julie Falatko

Such a great post from my dear friend Linda Williams Jackson on perseverance. “To tell the truth, I am perpetually on the verge of giving up. Yep. There are so many days that I just want to quit. To retire from writing. To call it quits on this lifestyle of the never-gonna-be-rich-and-famous. And every time I feel like giving up, a little bird (not a real one, of course) whispers in my ear, ‘Don’t give up. You’ve come too far and worked too hard to quit.’”
Asleep on the Blog :: Linda Williams Jackson

“I want to stop assuming that ‘immersion’ is the only way to be creatively productive.”
Battling Your Own Impatience to Finish the Writing :: Susan Dennard

“By far the most common form of “effortful fun” people choose is reading. This is wise, because reading can pretty easily fit into patches of leisure that are unplanned, uncertain in duration, or that happen at low energy times — the factors that lead people to reach for their phones (or binge Netflix all night).”
How to Read More (More on Rule #9: Effortful Before Effortless) :: Laura Vanderkam

Are you familiar with Shepherd.com? It’s a huge listing of books recommended by authors and categorized by various themes. A wonderful resource! Here’s a post I created about books similar to Miraculous (where mysterious strangers come to town). And this one has a great review of May B.
Why Read May B.? :: Shepherd.com

 

Virtue in Rest

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There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Use both and overlook neither.
― Alan Cohen

Yesterday I finished the first draft of my someday verse novel, SONG OF THE RAVEN. Soaring!

I’ve plowed to the end of one row to turn around and work on another. Next week I’ll receive edits for my next verse novel, THE BURNING SEASON, my New Mexico book set in a fire tower. 🔥 While I wait I’m looking forward to some baking and garden puttering.

My heart is happy. My plate is full.

It’s time for me to step aside here. See you again in August. Have a wonderful month, friends!

Middle Grade Books Are Not About You and Me (With a Nod to Colby Sharp and Linda Urban)

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Eight years after this post first ran, I’m still thinking about this.

I few weeks ago I shared a link to a blog post by teacher Colby Sharp. In it he talked about picking up a middle grade book and feeling like he’d seen it all before. Then he read these words by author Linda Urban:

Colby went on to say “middle grade books are not about you and me” (in other words, the adults out there).

I’ve thought so much about Colby’s and Linda’s words these past few months. They’ve helped me solidify some of my ideas about children’s literature, actually. While I will always, always, always believe a good book is a good book for everyone, regardless of age (though not all books are for every reader, which is another discussion entirely), Linda has reminded me that children’s literature is first and foremost for children.

Of course I know this, but I think sometimes I bring an outside perspective (as both reader and writer) that doesn’t always serve the work best. Rather, this is where I’d like my focus to be:

  • If this book is for a young reader, what is it they’ll discover that will be meaningful and ring true?
  • What am I willing to say as an author that might feel trite or old news to the grow ups but could be new and important to young readers?
  • Am I willing as a reader not to have my needs met first when I am reading middle grade?

I’m curious what readers here think.

On Writing

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Art isn’t a goal to be checked from a list of goals, any more than art’s value can ever be objectively codified like a kind of math; for me, at least, art is the result of my having allowed myself to stray from any marked path and to become lost. The poem is the evidence—like tracks, or footprints—of my quest into and across strange territory, the shape I’ve left almost as if unintentionally behind me.
— Carl Phillips