Karen Cushman

Here is generous praise for Meggy from the marvelous Kirby Larson, good friend and good writer:

From the moment Meggy Swann wabbles on scene with a terse assessment of her new living situation with her long-absent father (“Ye toads and vipers!), I was swept up in this robustius book. Cushman transported me to smelly, raucous and mysterious London in Elizabethan times with a deft hand and a exuberant use of deliciously old-fashioned words (gallimaufry! belike! laboratorium!). And she piles trouble upon trouble on dear Meggy—” her legs did not sit right in her hips;” her alchemist father can neither remember her name nor remember to feed her; she’s blamed for a neighbor’s fire and her best friend, a goose named Louise, is banished from the house for getting her head stuck in a beaker. Meggy’s struggle to transform from a country girl to a city girl, from loner to friend, parallels her father’s struggle to complete the ultimate transformation: turning liquid into gold and gold into an elixir for eternal life. Meggy is none too fond of Master Peevish, as she calls her father, but she does not want to see his head among those impaled on London Bridge. So what is she to do when she learns he may be involved in a murder plot? She engages in a little alchemy of her own, using words rather than elements.

In addition to being one of the best books I’ve read in a good long while, it is also very educational and has provided me with ample ammunition the next time someone cuts in front of me in traffic—I might call out, “Begone, you carbuncled toad!” or “A pestilence take you, you rump-faced knave,” or even perhaps my favorite, “Go then, you writhled, beetle-brained knave!

I have recently reread a few books about medieval England that I found when researching Catherine Called Birdy. They were written long before most of you—or even your parents—were born and are fairly short, simple, and, I think, best suited for younger readers or for those wanting just a taste of medieval England.

Adam of the Road, Elizabeth Janet Gray, 1942. Eleven-year-old Adam travels through thirteenth-century England with his father, a wandering minstrel, and his dog, Nick. But when Nick is stolen and his father disappears, Adam suddenly finds himself alone. A Newbery Medal winner.

The Innocent Wayfaring, Marchette Chute, 1943. A young girl of noble family runs away from a convent where she is being prepared for marriage or the veil and shares her travels with a boy who rejects a trade for the freedom of the highways.

The Door in the Wall, Marguerite De Angeli, 1949. In the Middle Ages a young boy crippled by the plague has an adventurous journey from London to a castle where he becomes a page, proves his courage, and earns recognition from the King. A Newbery Medal winner.

The Maude Reed Tale, Norah Lofts, 1972. A girl living in England in the Middle Ages wants to become a wool merchant but is sent instead to a castle to learn to be a lady.

If you are ever passing through the Portland airport, PDX to those in the know, look for my daughter, Leah Cushman, at one of the airport Powell’s bookstores. She is a librarian who decided she was at heart a bookseller. She quit her library job, took a big cut in pay and very early hours, and now is up to her eyeballs in books. She loves the work, loves to recommend books and talk books and buy books and read books. Wonder where she gets it? You can follow her on Goodreads and Library Thing to see what’s she reading and what she thinks. Leah may know more about books than anyone else I know.

It’s 2010, and Alchemy and Meggy Swann will finally be out. Book tour plans are afoot. In April, I go to San Antonio and Austin, Phoenix, Los Angeles, and various places in and around San Francisco. In May, there’s a webcast from Seattle. June will see me in Philadelphia, New York, and Washington, DC. August I’m in Victoria, BC, and November at Harding College in Arkansas. And before, after, and in-between are visits to local bookstores and schools in Oregon and Washington.

I am of two minds about all this travel. I love to meet people and talk about my new book and hear what they have to say. On the other hand, I hate airplanes, security lines, and having to smile all the time. I hope that Meggy and I have a good year and that your 2010 is happy and peaceful and full of love.

My beloved nephew Kevin is now a dad. Nicholas Townes Lipski was born the afternoon of December 13 to Kevin and his wife, Becca. This will be some interesting kid! Kevin is a former screenwriter who has music and movie blogs and is now writing for children (Jimmy the Christmas Zombie has promise but remains unfinished). He’ll be a stay-at-home dad when Becca goes back to work.  

Dear Nick, here is what I would like to say to you but Kurt Vonnegut said it better: “Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” Welcome, Nick. Grab onto your mother’s breast and eat and drink and grow, knowing you are very much loved.

It is 18 degrees here this morning, sunny and dry but 18 degrees! We Vashon Islanders do not have the hardiness or the cold-weather expertise of folks from Minnesota, Alaska, or Siberia. We are cold and grumpy about it. But the kindly UPS man fought his way through the frigid forest to bring me a pot of gold. These coins are the brainchild of the geniuses in Clarion’s marketing department to promote the publication of Alchemy and Meggy Swann. They look fabulous, and they taste really, really good. I know from experience. See if your local bookstore has one you can try.

Philip and I are right now on the Oregon coast, and I am writing this while looking out the window at the magnificent haystack rocks of Cannon Beach. Then we head to Portland where we’ll spend Thanksgiving with Leah. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday. We have so much to be thankful for.

I just finished David Small’s graphic novel, Stitches. It  is heartbreaking, not only because of his illness but also those appalling parents. I too had cancer that was caused by the 1950s enthusiasm for radiation. In my case it was a miracle cure for the skin infection called ringworm, and the radiation was on my face as was the cancer ten years ago. So I immediately related to David’s story. The book is marvelous and moving and has deservedly been nominated for a National Book Award, but there is much talk of it being an adult book and thus nominated in the wrong category. All the nominees in the Young People’s category, in fact, skew a little older than I would expect. My personal favorite is Laini Taylor’s Lips Touch. Lovely and lush and unforgettable. What do you think?

If I were the type of person to shout Huzzah! or intone with Lewis Carroll, Oh frabjous day! I would, right now. My last birthday present has arrived—the Oxford Historical Thesaurus. Not only does it give synonyms for nearly every word in English but it dates them as well. I am so excited. It’s perfect for a historical novelist. I can find out exactly what a character would say when happy or grieving or trying to get someone’s attention. My characters can swear with historical accuracy and call each other appropriate nasty names. My daughter’s friend, when she heard what I wanted for my birthday, said, “Your mother must be in love with words.” And, yes, she is. Galloping, galumphing, grizzled, glorious words! Shuffling, thrumbling, roistering, rioting words! The books are now my favorite birthday present ever, even better than the compost maker.