The next great Paulie Fink refers to some highly theoretical concepts for example of Greek philosophy or Shakespearean drama. This doesn’t sound very much like a story for children, yet it is perfectly integrated and also accessible even to young readers. How did you master this difficult challenge and did you have proof reading by children to make sure it works?
Children are so wonderfully curious! I genuinely think everything can be made accessible to children – Shakespeare, mythology, philosophy, history, science — as long as we make room for kids to be playful, too. That’s what I was trying to do with The Next Great Paulie Fink: to explore concurrently both children’s inherent curiosity and their innate playfulness. Too often, I think adults compartmentalize these traits, as if learning and play cannot possibly occupy the same space. The kids of the Mitchell School wrestle like zombies, break into spontaneous dance parties, and make each other laugh while vying to become the next great Paulie Fink. But as they do, they also explore the connections between past and present. They ask big questions about who we are as humans (and who we might yet get to become). They reflect on age-old concerns like regret, responsibility, and redemption. Best of all, they confront some of their own preconceived notions about the world. In this way, the story feels to me like the best parts of childhood!
Your novel is quite complex with a versatile narration strategy. Did you develop it out of the ongoing story or did you start with conceptual works?
Much of the book is told as an oral history. As soon as I knew what the story was about (a competition to replace, officially, their class clown who has mysteriously withdrawn from school), I began to “hear” the voices of several characters chattering away. These voices eventually became the oral history. But it became clear that I needed a more traditional narrative to balance the oral history. That’s when Caitlyn’s chapters came in. Caitlyn, a new student at the school, provides a first-person narration that places her classmate’s recollections in context. Because she’s a newcomer to the school, her narration offers the observations readers need see the bigger story that’s unfolding. There are other narrative elements, too: emails, letters, school disciplinary reports, texts, parable, fable, newspaper articles, and more. Each of these is a chance to explore narrative form, and the way storytelling varies by medium. These emerged more by instinct than by any clear design. Basically, if it felt right, it went in!
There are a lot of plausible reflections on narration itself within the novel. Are they general considerations on a narrative meta level or were they also influenced by the development process of your own texts?
I am fascinated by the role of storytelling in people’s lives. Stories drive the world forward; they always have. We are all telling stories all the time – to others, and also to ourselves. Stories help us make sense of the world. They are a way of creating order out of a chaotic world. They give our lives meaning and purpose. But these stories don’t simply entertain us, they actually shape us. So it’s critical to know that we living inside a story, and to challenge our own stories sometimes. Sometimes it’s very healthy to set down an old story, and pick up a new one! Every character in The Next Great Paulie Fink gets the opportunity to try on a new story. In doing so, they open themselves to new possibilities. Their worlds get a little richer. For example, at a critical moment, Caitlyn thinks about a kindergarten student who idolizes her. By asking herself, “what if I were the person this child sees? What would that version of me do now?” she’s able to enter a new story, one in which she is a bit more heroic than she had been. The Next Great Paulie Fink wasn’t directly motivated by my experience writing books, (though it’s certainly possible that after writing several books I became more acutely aware of the role of storytelling in people’s lives!). It was really that I’d started noticing that the world was filled with people who didn’t seem to understand they were clinging desperately to a story that wasn’t serving them. This was something I really wanted to explore.
Your first novel developed out of an unpublished draft for a non-fiction book on jellyfish. What are the particular roots of your second novel?
The Thing About Jellyfish, my first children’s book, was about a girl who was wrestling with grief. It was quite serious in both subject matter and tone. Many people expected my second book to be similar (I think I did, too!). But by the time I started writing The Next Great Paulie Fink in 2015, the world around me had started to change. Here in the United States, things had gotten very dark. Empathy was on the decline, and cruelty was on the rise. I found myself needing to laugh more. I wanted a break from all the things that I found so upsetting. But at the same time, I didn’t want to ignore the serious things. I wanted to ask the question, what makes a person choose one path over another? Why do people sometimes seem drawn to cruelty? More important, what brings out our individual humanity, empathy, and decency? What sorts of things connect us rather than divide us? The Next Great Paulie Fink really grew from that tension: from my desire to laugh and my simultaneous need to understand and explore what helps people become their best selves.
Obviously, a lot of thorough research was part of the writing process this time as well. Which kind of work do you like better: in the fiction or non-fiction section?
Oh, they’re just so different! I love learning new things, so it’s a genuine joy to spend time researching and learning from experts. Once I’ve done my research, I find it to be a wonderful challenge to get the reader as excited about these ideas as I am. I also enjoy figuring out how to share what I’ve learned in a way that’s both simple and compelling, and to weave the ideas into a story in a way that feels natural. Writing fiction — inventing new characters, developing a plot from scratch, visualizing scenes that don’t exist — requires a completely different state of mind. Honestly, sometimes writing fiction can be overwhelming, especially at the beginning. The choices are literally infinite! Once I’ve made some key choices, though, I start to feel a momentum in the story. That’s when it gets really fun.
As a co-author you wrote on various non-fiction issues like nutrition, soccer, HIV and bullying. Was one of it especially formative for you?
I started writing POSITIVE with Paige Rawl, when she was still in high school (I think she was seventeen years old). She was a terrific kid who happened to have been born with HIV. When her peers found out in middle school, she was bullied to the point of a suicide attempt. Paige had gone through a dark time, but she emerged with so much strength and courage…and she was determined to make the world a better place. Working with her really reminded me how thoughtful young people can be, and how much they have to share with our world.
Group dynamics are an issue in your books – within Paulie Fink not only in between the class of the Originals, but also concerning relations between elder and younger pupils, and bullying again. Is this of particular interest to you?
I see a lot of people, of all ages, confusing cruelty with strength. Not only do I find this sickening, it’s also completely wrong. Cruel people are the most fearful people of all. That’s certainly the case with Caitlyn, the book’s protagonist. At the start of the book, Caitlyn is extremely insecure. She feels powerless and vulnerable. She mistakenly believes that bullying is a way to protect herself. But she’s not happy. When Caitlyn she’s put in charge of the competition to find the next great Paulie Fink, she feels extremely vulnerable. She simply doesn’t know what to do. She makes some mistakes. But she learns from them, and she keeps trying. As she does, she begins discover her own authentic power and voice. The more confident she grows, the more she connects — meaningfully — with the people around her, and the more she begins to enjoy herself. By the book’s end, Caitlyn’s world is richer….and much, much more fun. I think this can be true for all of us. The more we are willing to make ourselves vulnerable — the more we’re willing to try new things, to make mistakes and learn from them, to really be ourselves — the more joy and connection we will find.
The school and its concept, also the teachers are very special. Were they inspired by real institutions and persons?
Yes, the tiny Mitchell School, in a rural community in Vermont (one of the most rural states here in the U.S.), is very unusual! Classes are held in a falling-down mansion that looks like a haunted house. Students are expected to care for goats and befriend kindergarten students. There are Greek statues everywhere, and in class, the children learn philosophy! There are just ten other kids in the entire seventh grade; most have known each other forever. By now, these kids have grown so comfortable with one another that they don’t bother trying to hide the quirkiest parts of themselves. I do live rurally, and my kids attended a very tiny school (which did, briefly, have goats on campus!). It wasn’t quite like the Mitchell School, though. Honestly, I think when I wrote this book, I was mostly imagining what kind of school experience I wish I’d had!
Did you already visit real schools with the book and how was the feedback of the actual target group?
I had a great time visiting schools when the book came out here in America. Then, during COVID, I started doing a lot of online school visits, as well. Those visits were especially wonderful. So many children felt very isolated and lonely during COVID, and it seems they felt drawn to this book. Perhaps that’s because the book is about meaningful connection during uncertain times, while remaining quite fun. If I’d ever had any doubt about writing a book that was as “fun” as it was meaningful, that doubt evaporated during COVID. I think it was exactly right.
Your last novel was one for adults. Can we look forward to further books for younger people and what are your current projects?
Oh, I definitely have more stories in mind for kids! I’ve got a couple of other projects on the way first. I’m working on a stage adaptation of The Thing About Jellyfish, which has been really fun. I also co-wrote a memoir for one of the scientists whose research involved mRNA, an essential component of the COVID vaccines. This memoir should come out in the next year. I’m hoping there will be a youth version of this book as well. I’m also working on a fictional project about Isaac Newton’s boyhood and his breakthroughs as a young man during the plague outbreak of 1665-1666. Newton was a very difficult and complicated person, even as a child, and he lived during an era of extraordinarily rapid change; it reminds me of today in many ways! I’ve also just started working on a story with a bit of a science fiction twist. I’d like to write one version of this story for adults, and another for kids, so that parents and kids can have parallel reading experiences. I don’t know yet if that will work, but I’m very excited about the concept.
Is there anything else you’d like to say?
I want to thank my publisher, Hanser, which did an extraordinary job with this book. I’d also like to extend my deep gratitude to translators, Jessika Komina and Sandra Knuffinke. At this point in my career I know that translating is writing. Translation requires creativity, nuanced choices, a deep sense of language, and masterful care. This award belongs to them every bit as it does to me.
Thank you for this wonderful novel and your detailed answers.
Ali Benjamin (c) Sharona Jacobs
Click here, if you are interested in reading the German version of this interview.