March 19, 2021

Your House, My House

Written and illustrated by Marianne Dubuc
Kids Can Press
978-1-55253-0490-3
24 pp.
Ages 3-7
October, 2020
 
Now, when our homes are more important than ever, being our places of safety and comfort, sometimes our schools and our workplaces, our gyms and our doctors' offices, Your House, My House from the incomparable Marianne Dubuc reminds us how much our homes really mean to us.
 
This is 3 Maple Street and there is so much life here. The text may be focusing on Little Rabbit whose birthday it is but it's what's going on in and around the apartment of four floors that makes for a bigger celebration of life. So while Little Rabbit prepares invitations and bakes his cake with Mama Rabbit and little sister Lily, multiple stories evolve in and around the homes at 3 Maple Street.
From Your House, My House by Marianne Dubuc

There's a phone call from Mr. Fox asking if Mama Rabbit can watch Little Fox but it's Marianne Dubuc's intricate illustration, with an empty nursery and a very pregnant Mrs. Fox, that hints at what is really going on with that family. Then there's the Cat family moving in and everyone–Rabbits, Mice, Hedgehogs–helping. There's Mr. Bear who is sick in bed, but who pops downstairs to drop off his gift, while Mr. Owl returns from his nightly ventures and heads to bed. And there's a trio of mice up to no good while their parents help their neighbours. (Did I mention a golden-haired little girl making herself at home at the Foxes while a wolf searches for a red-caped little one, and three little pigs come visiting too? Seems there's a fairy tale or three making themselves at home in the neighbourhood as well.)

From Your House, My House by Marianne Dubuc
I was especially looking forward to what was happening with the Hedgehogs as Little Hedgehog crosses off dates on a calendar labelled "Papa," anticipating the return of his father. And there's even a little drama in the tree above the moving van as parents seek worms and a little one leaves the nest for the first time.
From Your House, My House by Marianne Dubuc
Ah, but there's so much happening at 3 Maple Street and most of the fun of Your House, My House is looking into each apartment and on the street and on the stairs and in the trees to see everything. (It's like looking into the homes of Zoom meeting participants.) The details on characters' faces and in the apartment decors tell more of the story and become a treasure hunt for young readers (and perhaps a lesson in visual literacy for their teachers). From the little bird covering its ears from squawking parents, the ear plugs used by the sleeping owl, or the little attic ghost that grabs the postal worker's hat, there is so much to see and about which to smile. Marianne Dubuc's words tell a story of community, most coming together for a party, but each with their own lives of joys and troubles, normalcy and the unusual. But it's always her illustrations that will charm. Every double-page spread (which I could sadly not reproduce from the large book of 28 x 35 cm size) is essentially the same in scope, encompassing the four-storied building with trees on either side and a portion of street in front. But, and it's a big but, every spread is different in detail of action, content, expression and story. It reminds us that there may be one story upon which we all focus but there are many more that may never be seen. Thankfully Marianne Dubuc has invited us in to this city of homes, where your home is my home, and shared with us glimpses of lives and the abodes of foxes, cats, mice, rabbits, hedgehogs, birds, a bear, an owl, and a ghost and those who might venture into their community intermittently.
From Your House, My House by Marianne Dubuc
On this one day, there are at least a dozen stories playing out, and Little Rabbit's is but one of them, but together they make a world of complexity and community.

March 16, 2021

A Good Day for Ducks

Written by Jane Whittingham
Illustrated by Noel Tuazon
Pajama Press
978-1-77278-188-5
26 pp.
Ages 1-4
February 2021

From Jane Whittingham and Noel Tuazon, the collaborative duo who brought us Wild One (Pajama Press, 2017), comes a play date on a rainy day that may be A Good Day for Ducks but a great one for young children too.
 
A brother and sister delight in watching the rain from indoors before prepping for their outing into the wet wilds. In simple free verse, Jane Whittingham lets us join the two from indoors to outdoors and back inside.
Getting dressed,
Raincoat, rainboots,
Tug tug, pull pull,
Off we go.
Out they go to jump in puddles, splash down the lane and watch ducks swimming in the pond.
From A Good Day for Ducks by Jane Whittingham, illus. by Noel Tuazon
The ducks "Quack quack, flap flap" and the worms "Wiggle squiggle" before the lightning and thunder come with a "Zig zag, boom bang" and the children hurry home with their mother.

From A Good Day for Ducks by Jane Whittingham, illus. by Noel Tuazon
It's still a good day for ducks as they children get out of their wet things and don cozy outfits and bunny slippers to hop around the room. Finally there's hot cocoa and some painting to remember their outing before they witness the rainbow that culminates their rainy day.
From A Good Day for Ducks by Jane Whittingham, illus. by Noel Tuazon
For very young children who always delight in rainy day play, Jane Whittingham gives words to their amusements. The play is so organic–jumping, watching, feeling, hearing–that Jane Whittingham's repetition of key words, relating to the sounds and actions of the children and the elements of the day, reinforces that simplicity of experience. They "Tug tug, pull pull" on their boots, they "Splish splash, Splish splash" down the lane and are "Waiting, waiting" for their hot drinks to be made. And don't Noel Tuazon's watercolour and ink illustrations just emulate the wetness of the day? There's a fluidity of motion from the children, the rain and nature in general that comes across in Noel Tuazon's lines and shapes that makes the reader feel like they're floating along in the children's ventures. Like the ducklings, we follow along, going with the flow.
From A Good Day for Ducks by Jane Whittingham, illus. by Noel Tuazon
Originally published in 2018, this board book edition of A Good Day for Ducks features "Touch & Feel Raindrops" which your little ones are sure to enjoy, between scoping them out and relishing the sensory feel of their glossy lines. With spring looming and the opportunities for rain across the country inevitable, A Good Day for Ducks will herald more play in the rain and remind us of the value of taking delight in the world around, whether it be wetness from the sky, bunny slippers, hot cocoa, ducks on a pond or mud on a laneway.

March 12, 2021

Torch (The Flight and Flame Trilogy, Book 3)

Written by R. J. Anderson
Enclave Publishing
978-1-62184-160-9
239 pp.
Ages 11+
February 2021
 
 
When we first met the piskey Ivy in Swift, the first book in R. J. Anderson's The Flight and Flame Trilogy, she'd been determined to look out for her family and friends of the Delve, worried about poisonous air and long-held conflicts with spriggans, faeries and even humans. But, because of her unique wingless nature, Ivy has always had to prove herself. In the second book, Nomad, while looking to help the piskeys of the Delve escape the tyranny of her Aunt Betony, the Joan i.e., the queen of the Delve, Ivy becomes romantically involved with the spriggan-faery Martin whose own story needed telling. Then, after a violent confrontation with the Joan, a handful of piskeys, including Ivy's little sister Cicely, brother Mica and his fellow hunter Maddock, follow Ivy above-ground.

Now, Ivy is challenged to providing a safe home for the piskeys who've followed her, but worries that she could never become the Joan they need, as she lacks the skill of making fire at will. Things become worse when a deception is perpetrated to make her appear to make fire, and she is compelled into a betrothal with Maddock who offers to act as her Jack, the consort to the Joan. But Ivy and the piskeys know that Betony will not stand to lose her people to Ivy and an attack is sure to come. Fortunately for Ivy, she can rely on the help of faeries Thorn and Broch, and especially Martin who comes to her aid time and time again. Unfortunately, Martin is a spriggan and hated by the piskeys for being so, and Ivy must hide her love for Martin from her people.

But Martin, who had always believed himself to be the last of the spriggans who'd been killed off in conflicts with the piskeys, discovers a barrow of chambers with spriggan treasure, arms and stores. Most surprising are the egg-like shells harbouring young spriggans. While Martin nurtures the awakened young spriggans, about thirty boys and girls, becoming a true leader to his people, Ivy is torn between being with Martin, doing what's right for her own people, and contending with their distrust of all spriggans and faeries. Though Ivy knows that Martin has had his own issues with her people, she has come to trust him and he repeatedly shows himself to be worthy of that trust. But can Ivy find a way to save the piskeys, from the poison in the Delve and the tyranny of Betony and her Jack Gossan, bring peace between those who distrust and discriminate, and still be with Martin?
 
R. J. Anderson may be writing about fantastical creatures like piskeys, spriggans and faeries but the hostility between these groups and Ivy's need to balance her own wishes with the obligations she feels to her people are as human as anything we might experience. Mica's infuriating knows-better attitude and Cicely's petulance when she doesn't get what she wants are all too human, as is Ivy's unhappiness with being pressured to do what everyone else decides is the right thing to do. When she leads with her heart, driven by her love for Martin and her people, she leads well as a true Joan would.

But Torch is also a book of fantasy, of incredible people who inhabit Cornwall and beyond. Some are tasked with digging while others protect treasure. They can shape-shift and cast glamours and spells and wards of protection.  The worlds of Torch, as in Swift and Nomad, are both imaginative and real, and R. J. Anderson has excelled at making the reader feel everything from the gentleness of love to the anger of frustration with her characters. Thankfully through all that emotion and otherworldliness, R. J. Anderson has resolved her tale of the Cornish piskeys and their neighbours with much heart, happiness and hope, demonstrating that it's possible to find the way through conflict and prejudice to understanding and love.

March 10, 2021

Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built

Written by Susan Hughes
Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
Owlkids Books
978-1-77147-392-7
32 pp.
Ages 4-8
March 2021

Antoni Gaudí was a Catalan architect whose unique style marks a number of buildings in Spain and most notably in Barcelona. Just as alluring is Susan Hughes's fictionalized story, illustrated by the formidable Marianne Ferrer, of the development of Gaudí's idea for the home of the Batlló family, known worldwide as Casa Batlló.
From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
While her family anticipates a move from the country to a city home in Barcelona, young Carmen despairs at leaving the wilds of the countryside and her imaginary salamander, Dragon.
   In the woods, hollows cradled them
close and hills tumbled them about.
   Water sparkled and the light showed
them colors everywhere.
   Trees swayed, gently, fiercely.
   Could Carmen ever feel at home in
the gray, straight, stiff city? Impossible!
But when Señor Gaudí visits, he spends time outside, with Carmen trailing. "We do not create," he said later. "We discover."

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
Carmen soon realizes that his visits, time outdoors and walks in nature feed his creativity, driving him to incorporate the organic into the structural, even seeing what Carmen sees, including her imaginary friend.
From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
Her own visits to their unfolding city home reveal water lily tiling, curved embracing walls, blues of water, sunbursts and more. After two years of development, and saying goodbye to Dragon (prematurely), the family moves into Casa Batlló, and Carmen discovers that "This house–this city–could be a home for her after all."
From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
Our world is peppered with extraordinary achievements from science to art and the stories of those achievements can be just as extraordinary or not. Susan Hughes could've just told the history of this jewel of architecture but she's a much better writer than that. By creating a back story for the house that Gaudí built which includes Carmen and her salamander, the building is a celebration of the natural world in a man-made structure, and becomes the home in which Carmen could rejoice as she had in the country. It becomes a story of imagination and creativity and creating by imagining. The outdoors becomes the indoors but only through observation, attention to detail and tribute. 

Just as glorious as Casa Batlló are Montreal artist Marianne Ferrer's illustrations. Blending a variety of media, including gouache and watercolour, Marianne Ferrer creates magic both in the outdoors of Carmen's natural world and in the evolving new house. Though her palette is relatively limited, she uses colour to emphasize the resplendent nature of the new house, jewelled as only a "better" version of nature could be. Moreover with characteristic boldness in her curved lines and shapes, Marianne Ferrer applauds what is natural, just as Gaudí did.

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
This may not be how Gaudí came to develop Case Batlló–though Carmen Batlló certainly did exist, as Susan Hughes's "Author's Note" tells us–but I hope it is. It reminds us that the two worlds, indoors and out, should not be separate, and that magic happens when the two meet.

March 08, 2021

The Big Bad Wolf in My House

Written by Valérie Fontaine
Illustrated by Nathalie Dion
Translated by Shelley Tanaka
Groundwood Books
978-1-77306-501-4
32 pp.
Ages 5-8
March 2021

It's International Women's Day and, to women who find themselves in abusive home circumstances and explore ways to cope including fighting back legally or finding shelter elsewhere, we stand by you, and Valérie Fontaine and Nathalie Dion offer hope.
From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion
A little girl could always see through the wolf who married her mother.
He batted his eyelashes and purred like a pussycat
in front of my mother.
But he looked at me with cold eyes and sharp teeth.
The honeymoon was sour, like lemons.
From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion
But when her mother gets home late from work one day, the wolf show his true self, shouting names and hurling food. The child removes herself from the situation, but she can see the impact it has on her mother whose smile begins to droop along with her body.
From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion
Her mother tries to shield her child but the wolf is scary, leaving finger marks on the girl's arms and coming into her room as he chooses.
From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion
But one day, with only five minutes notice, her mother declares that they are leaving. They go to a house full of kind mothers and children but no wolves. 
The big bad wolf can huff and puff all he wants,
but this house will not fall down.
The little girl knows the tale about a big bad wolf. It's the one where he huffs and puffs to blow the house down. The little ones in the story try to protect themselves in shelters of straw and wood but to no avail. Same with this child. She tries a fortress of blankets to shield herself, or a closed door of wood but neither stops the big bad wolf. She does build "a fort made of bricks. I put it up around my heart." But it's not until they go to a new house, a shelter for women and children, that they find safety.

Told from the child's perspective and analogous to the story of the big bad wolf and the three little pigs, The Big Bad Wolf in My House makes a situation of domestic abuse very disquietingly elementary. The mother marries a man who is abusive to her and her child. He may appear sheep-like to begin with but he's dangerous. Both mother and child find ways to cope with the physical or emotional attacks, but coping is not safety. It's just a delay. Both in its original French (Le grand méchant loup dans ma maison, 2020) and this English edition (translated by Shelley Tanaka), Valérie Fontaine's story demonstrates the impact of domestic abuse on the whole family and how adults and children find their own ways to survive. Though she parallelizes the chilling abuse of a man against his new wife and stepchild with a child's fable, Valérie Fontaine never, never trivializes the situation, only gives it context. After all, the big bad wolf could be any one. 

I was just introduced to Nathalie Dion's work last week (I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol) and realize how versatile her art is, creating lightness and hope in one book and now tension and despair in The Big Bad Wolf in My House. Painting by hand with gouache and digitally with a pastel brush, Nathalie Dion still imbues her illustrations with the starkness of the family situation, engulfed with shadows and angles and using colour and lightness minimally and generally only associated with the child or situations outside the home. 

Some may despair of this tale of domestic abuse but Valérie Fontaine and Nathalie Dion have taken us through the darkness from a child's perspective and shown us an outcome that offers the promise of respite.
From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

March 05, 2021

I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree

Written by Jean E. Pendziwol
Illustrated by Nathalie Dion
Groundwood Books
978-1-77306-220-4
32 pp.
Ages 3-7
September 2020

With spring on the horizon and hope finally blooming, I can't think of a better time to review Jean E. Pendziwol's latest picture book, I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree, illustrated by Montreal's Nathalie Dion.

Who needs toys when you have the natural world as a play thing and mate? First, a little girl, with her beautiful Siamese cat, finds joy in the shadows created by sunshine pouring in through a window or a skylight.
From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion
Though she recognizes that they might only stay around for a short time–maybe minutes, maybe days–or even disappear, she knows the shadows will always come back.

From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion
When the child and cat head outside where...
I can hear the wind tell stories,
whispering
to the trees
making them
laugh and sigh.
...there is new play to be had. The weather and the natural world can bring quiet stories that whisper or dance, or rush through. And when in her bed, beneath a red blanket worn as a cape, when the stories creep in to nibble her toes, she's the one to tell the stories.
Bundled up in her colourful coat, red boots, and woolens, she imagines the snowflakes as bringing the flavour of clouds, even when icy and sharp. Though everything, whether shadows, stories or snowflakes, can have a downside, there is always hope.
But the cherry tree
knows this:
it is hope in autumn
that brings
flowers in spring.
From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion
There may be hope in the buds of the cherry tree but it's everywhere in Jean E. Pendziwol's story. It's in the shadow that changes shape and size, and can disappear but always comes back; in the wild stories that can be tamed; and in the snowflakes that can prickle and freeze but delight. Jean E. Pendziwol makes this child's imaginative play a wholly sensory experience of insight and appreciation for her world, even when unpredictable or ambiguous. And it's the hope for better or more or even the same goodness that enriches her play.
 
I know that Nathalie Dion has illustrated many picture books, including French-language ones, but this is my first for review and  I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree begs me to add her to my 2021 listings of Canadian illustrators of note. (Listings were already posted in 2013, 2015, 2017 and 2019.) Her art, a mix of traditional and digital paintings, then cut, transformed and manipulated in Photoshop, has an ethereal quality to it that suggests much of the play is in the child's head, not in her feet and hands. Even in the darkness of late-night storytelling, Nathalie Dion suggests a lightness of message with a child immersed in thought and perception.

Play can be more than activity. It can be in the soul that sees beyond the doing, the now, the ephemeral. It can be in the hope of possibilities and Jean E. Pendziwol and Nathalie Dion help us see this in I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree.

March 03, 2021

Interview with Philippa Dowding, author of Firefly

 Last night I had the pleasure of speaking with author Philippa Dowding at the virtual launch of her newest middle grade novel Firefly.
 
Firefly
Written by Philippa Dowding
DCB (Cormorant Books)
978-1-77086-598-3
200 pp.
Ages 9-12
February 2021

For those who did not attend, this is a version of the chat we had. 

Philippa Dowding (Photo by Andrea Gutsche)

Helen Kubiw:  Firefly, or Fifi as she was called by her mother, is a young girl with a lot on her plate. If she’d been an adult or even an older teen, I’d have been impressed by her fortitude and shrewdness. Yet she was only 13  when she started living rough, on the street, periodically to remove herself from an intolerable home situation. Why did you choose to make her this age?
 
Philippa Dowding:  Firefly is 13, almost 14, as the story begins in the week before Halloween. She’s starting grade nine late due to living in the park across from her mother’s house, until a social worker finds her and sends her to live with her Aunt Gayle, in the Corseted Lady costume shop, which is based on a real costume shop run by my extended family in Toronto’s east end.

I chose this age for Firefly because it’s a tipping point, a cusp, between childhood and adolescence. As an adolescent, you see the world in a more objective way than you do as a young child. You can see for instance, the bad choices that the adults around you have made. You can also begin to change things for yourself, with resilience and help.

So Firefly is just old enough to begin to see how her mother, who is suffering mental health and addiction issues, has affected her, and how she has had to cope with that.

 
HKI think that many of us do not wholly understand the desperation that compels someone to end up on the street, especially someone as young as Firefly. But she doesn’t just disappear onto the streets. She lives in the park across from her mother’s house. Why have you chosen this situation for Firefly?
 
Philippa Dowding:  I live in downtown Toronto near several small parks, they’re fascinating for many reasons, and they make a great story setting. Most of us can imagine a park, even younger readers. I’ve set another story in a downtown Toronto park, The Gargoyle at the Gates, which takes place in a little park with a wrought-iron fence with a fountain on Queen Street East.

In a metropolis like Toronto, a park is urban green space. It’s essential to everyone’s well-being, and it draws everyone there, so it’s kind of a microcosm of the entire society. You see families, children, single people, older people, dogwalkers, kids throwing a baseball, everyone. In the real world, there are tents in all of the parks in my neighbourhood, this isn’t new but it seems to be more visible during COVID. There is a crisis of mental health, addiction and homelessness in our society, and that is in our parks, too. Firefly is able to hide in plain sight in the park, for a whole summer before a social worker finds her.

So why a park? I’m fascinated by urban parks, it’s a great setting for a story, and a microcosm of society. For Firefly, the proximity to her mother’s house also let’s her convince herself she’s not living on the street. She’s just waiting, in the park.

 
HKI was surprised to learn that it’s not unusual for a women’s shelter to limit themselves to  clients 16 years of age and older. Though Firefly lied and used Jennie’s facilities, why provide that lifeline for Firefly, as tenuous as it was, rather than have child protective services called in immediately and reconnect her with her aunt?
 
Philippa Dowding:  Let’s first let’s talk about Jennie’s, the fictional drop-in women’s centre in the story. I live near Women’s College Hospital in downtown Toronto, my kids were born there, we have used the hospital as a family for decades. WCH does great work in women’s mental health among other things, so I really wanted to include them in the story. The full name of the drop-in centre in the story is “The Jennie Smillie Robertson Women’s Centre,” which is completely made up, it doesn’t exist. But Jennie Smillie Robertson was a real person. She was Canada’s first female surgeon, and she was one of the founders of Women’s College Hospital in 1911. At the time, she and a group of female doctors couldn’t find a Toronto hospital that would allow them to work, so they started their own.

Although no child should have to do this, I gave Firefly the lifeline of free therapy sessions at Jennie’s because I wanted to show Firefly’s resilience and resourcefulness, that cusp of moving into adolescence and beginning to try to take care of herself. She has to lie to the staff at Jennie’s though, and tell them she is 16, so she is always scared of being caught. I wanted to touch on the reality that, as you say, most women’s shelters don’t take children on their own under 16.

Finally, I didn’t want Firefly to be completely alone. This is a book for younger readers, after all. She has a friendship with a street person, Moss Cart, who lives in the park with her, but that’s it. The advice that she gets from various therapists at Jennie’s is valuable; they gave her words like “PTSD” and “dissociation”, plus they teach her breathing and grounding techniques, plus self-talk to help her calm herself and stay present. All worth sharing with younger readers, especially if they have never heard these terms or strategies before.

 
HKThough Firefly  may not necessarily realize it, she has numerous coping strategies which she has developed to help her survive her circumstances, and one is how she deals with the relationship she has with her mother. Typically she only refers to her as Joanne-the-mother, 
dissociating herself from their relationship. Yet when her mother reaches out, it throws Firefly off completely. What does this tell us about their relationship, and do you foresee them ever having a relationship, and, if so, in what configuration?
 
Philippa Dowding:  Yes, we know early on through flashbacks and bad dreams, that Firefly’s mother is neglectful, and struggles with mental health and addiction problems, so her care of Firefly has been inconsistent.

Firefly is particularly thrown off by two letters from her mother which come through the social worker, one near the beginning of the book, and one near the end.

The first letter from Joanne-the-mother sends Firefly into a PTSD tailspin for twelve hours. It causes a serious trauma response from Firefly, but the second letter from her mother 10 days later and near the end of the book, she handles much better.

I wanted to show some growth there, between the first letter and the second. Firefly is in a much better place at the end of the story when the second letter arrives. She feels much safer and is more grounded with Aunt Gayle in the Corseted Lady costume shop and is just beginning her long journey to recovery.  

As to going forward with her mother and having a relationship one day, it’s possible, anything is possible in fiction! But I leave it up to Firefly at the end of the book, and to the reader to imagine that future, however it unfolds. I want the reader, kids and adults alike, to see that healing is a long process and when the book ends, Firefly is at the very beginning of that process. She can choose what happens next though, she’s the one in control, and that’s an important message, too.

 
HKAnother coping strategy Firefly has involves holding onto things that offer her security, like her AC/DC hoodie. But her aunt’s costume shop, the Corseted Lady, offers her opportunities to be someone else as she chooses. You have her dressed as a World War 2 fly boy with a leather jacket and goggle, gloves and flying ace hat; as an 1800s salon girl; a 1500s monk; and even a medieval warrior. Why choose these costumes for Firefly to wear?

Philippa Dowding:  Another great question! Yes, disguise, costume, clothing, provenance of clothes, who has clothes and who doesn’t (there’s a bully in the story who keeps ripping the clothes off his step-brother’s back), the ability to feel powerful or vulnerable in clothes, trying to define oneself through costume, all this plays a huge part in the story as you would expect. I set the story in a costume shop with 7 million pieces, for this very reason.

So, early on in the story Firefly decides to wear costumes to school, and to be honest, most of the costumes I chose were personal favourites, but I also wanted to pick clothes for her that are powerful, and unconventional. The first disguise she chooses for school is a flyboy costume, which is on the cover of the book. And she wonders about the young man who wore the outfit; did he get to grow up, she wonders? It’s a real WW2 jacket, so it really belonged to someone. And she feels empathy with this young man, who couldn’t have been much bigger or much older than her. He went to war, he must have suffered too.

The next day she dresses as a saloon girl from the 1800s, but this is too vulnerable a costume.  She dislikes it because the boots are too hard to tie up, which would be a disadvantage if she had to get away from someone in a hurry. She’s always looking for the exits.

Then after the saloon girl, she wears a re-created monk’s cloak from the 1500s. And she loves this costume, because she can hide in it. She feels very safe at school in this hooded cloak. The next day, she chooses a medieval warrior outfit, which is very powerful, but also hilarious because it’s so authentic looking, and she gets a lot of questions about it, which begins to feel fun to her.  Then she goes to school as a motorcycle cop, with green goggles, and really opens up in her French class because of the costume. She can be anyone, say anything, become anything, in her costumes.

Except for the saloon girl, these costumes give Firefly an opportunity to feel connected, safe, but also disguised. The whole book is really about self-discovery; who is Firefly? Who does she want to be? How does she want the world to see her? A costume shop is a pretty great setting for that.

 
HKThough many people believe that PTSD  only results from a single traumatic event, cumulative developmental trauma can come from chronic neglect.  This is undoubtedly Firefly’s situation.  Talk to us about Firefly’s PTSD. 
 
Philippa Dowding:  Yes, Firefly suffers from PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder, and probably cumulative developmental trauma. She has a blackout, a possible fugue state at one point in the story, and there are several instances of her being dissociative, but the story isn’t about her being stuck there, or being defined by her mother’s long-term neglect or her own PTSD. The story is about Firefly getting to a safe place, and how she takes the first steps toward change.

It’s going to be a long journey, a long story, and this is just the start of it, but we know Firefly is going to be okay. She has a therapist at the end of the story, a good friend in Charlie, and a stable place to live with her aunt, who loves her.

 
HKOne of my favourite characters is Aunt Gayle. She’s fierce but never heavy-handed. She’s open and protective, while giving Firefly both freedom and security. Your acknowledgement tells us Aunt Gayle is based on your sister-in-law. Is she based on her personality, her actions, or both?
 
Philippa Dowding:  Yes, the character of Aunt Gayle is inspired by my sister-in-law, who started her costume shop in Toronto’s east end in the late 1970s.

But this is a piece of fiction, so Aunt Gayle is inspired by my sister-in-law, not an exact copy of her, although people who have read the book and who knew her definitely see her personality there. And her costume shop is pretty exactly described in the book.

She was determined, successful, creative, energetic, she loved her family and friends with a fierce devotion. She was also a world champion knitter. We once took her to a baseball game at Rogers Stadium, and she sat and knit the whole time! We always had beautiful hand-knit scarves and hats and sweaters as gifts, which she whipped off for us. So, her devotion and loyalty to her family and friends, her talent as a costume designer, her smarts as a boss and business person, that’s really what I wanted to capture in the story. And her tireless knitting. I think that pretty much sums her up!


HKThere’s a saying about the kindness of strangers and Aunt Gayle is definitely kind and must seem like a stranger to Firefly. But her kindness is smart, not saccharine. She extends that kindness through normalcy like encouraging Firefly to take as many baths as she chooses or offering her hot chocolate with marshmallows. In fact, asking Firefly if she’d like her hair braided is one of the gentlest and most intimate of moments for me. Why do you think those simple acts of thoughtfulness had such an impact on helping Firefly recover? 
 
Philippa Dowding:   That’s so interesting that you found that one of the tenderest moments. I guess it is tender, isn’t it? Firefly has had few moments of normal adult tenderness in her life, so something normal for everyone else, a family member brushing and braiding your hair, is not normal for Firefly. It takes her a while to realize that these moments of connection are normal. She talks about “normal, normal, normal” all the way through the book. Her life with Aunt Gayle is the new normal and she’s just getting used to it.

I guess the fact that Aunt Gayle just starts braiding her hair, is one of the simple acts a mother does for a child, family members do for each other. Aunt Gayle is trying to figure out their relationship too, it’s entirely new for her, and so braiding Firefly’s hair is kind of automatic and something that she did for her daughter in the story (who is at university). It’s one of those moments of contact that just happen in a normal family; let me tend to you, let me brush your hair, let me make you presentable.

So that’s what is so tender about it and so powerful for Firefly. It’s just an automatic reaching out, let me groom you, that makes us all human.

 
HKLet’s talk about The Corseted Lady costume shop. Not only does it, by Aunt Gayle’s hand, give Firefly her first home in a long time, it gives her opportunities.  It reminds me of Mr. Dressup’s Tickle Trunk that allows for pretending, for play, for friendship and for learning.  I know The Corseted Lady is based on the Toronto costume shop Thunder Thighs. Take us there vicariously so that perhaps we might experience the shop in all its glory.
 
Philippa Dowding:   Yes, Thunder Thighs is an amazing place, and it’s a place I’ve wanted to write about since the first time I visited it 30-plus years ago. It’s just a fantastic setting for a book, too, with so many possibilities in it. My sister-in-law and her husband and son, built the shop into a huge warehouse of film and TV costumes with 7 million pieces in it. It’s still running, as busy as ever. The company has worked on thousands and thousands of movies and television shows over the decades. Everything in the book is a pretty accurate depiction of the place.

I think at this point the best way to showcase Thunder Thighs, is to read the book, or go to the Toronto shop to rent a costume. Originally, before COVID, we were going to launch the book there and everyone was going to be able to wander the amazing rows of costumes and dress up in whatever they liked for the event. I was looking forward to reading to an audience of lobsters, medieval warriors, 1960s hippies, Dickensian flower girls, medieval warriors, and so on. Not to be, but it would have been fun!


HKOne person’s make-believe may be another’s reality and the costumes at The Corseted Lady suggest this when Firefly discovers the section called “Hobos, Urchins, Street People.”  She is upset by this collection and understandably so. Why include that scene?
 
Philippa Dowding:   Yes, Firefly sees the broken-down street clothes a few times near the beginning of the book; in chapter one she sees the “Dicken’s Flower Girls and Street Urchins” rack, then again in chapter four, “Hoboes, Urchins, Street People.” I put these costumes in the early chapters, because readers don’t know Firefly’s story yet. The fact that she turns away from the “Dicken’s Flower Girls and Street Urchins” then the second rack of clothes a bit later, gives us a clue that she is sensitive to something about street people, it’s our first clue that she may have been living on the street.

Also of course, these clothes are her recent reality and here in the shop the hobo and street people clothes are seen as a disguise, a costume, so there is a dissonance there for her. Her reality is leaking into the reality of the shop.

 
HKThough you’ve written quite a few books of middle grade fantasy, this is your first foray into realistic fiction. How did you approach writing this novel that was different from writing the speculative fiction? 
 
Philippa Dowding:  This book is my first piece of realistic fiction, yes, but it honestly felt a lot like writing fantasy because of the setting. Writing about a costume shop with 7 million pieces in it is just incredibly rich, magical material for a story.  In a costume shop, you can become anything, be anything, so I was always imagining the costumes, the beautiful rows and rows of possibilities as I wrote.

The book is also written in first person, which I’ve done before. The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden, and the sequel, Everton Miles is Stranger than Me, and OCULUM, my middle grade dystopia, are all written in first person, so that felt familiar.

So this isn’t a piece of speculative fiction, that’s true, but in a way it is: who can Firefly become, what disguise can she wear, what transforms her? The setting felt magical and mysterious as I wrote, so it wasn’t that different from writing magic realism or fantasy.

 
HKBecause your realistic writing is so strong, I could see Firefly being a jumping-off story for others with young people living precarious lives. Whether they be characters we’ve already been introduced to like Firefly’s friend Charlie or the ever-clashing Scott Durkin and his stepbrother Norman Jakes, or as Firefly knows them Skinny Kid and Not-So-Skinny Kid, or any of the kids in the Library Support Group, I think any of their stories would be a great sequel. Would you consider this or have you already?
 
Philippa Dowding:  Thank you Helen, that’s lovely of you to say, and yes, the idea of a sequel has been passed around a little, here at home and by my publisher, so thank you to everybody for that. I guess I’m always the last one to think about a sequel, but there are some interesting possibilities for a sequel, that’s true. What happens to the street person, Moss Cart, or the tough-as-nails but heart-of-gold social worker (herself in a disguise of bad 1980s power suits) … as well as the kids.

For now, I’ve left the story in a way that readers can feel that everybody is okay, or they will be, and they can imagine how things will work out for everyone. That’s really what I hoped for this book: that it would lead to discussion about mental health, addiction, homelessness, and explore the idea that there are many possible journeys, many potential endings, that will take a long time to tell. But there are beginnings too, and this is just the start for Firefly.  
 

Many thanks to author Philippa Dowding for taking the time to answer my questions and sharing with readers her experiences in writing Firefly.

Thanks are also extended to Chantelle Cho, Sales & Marketing Assistant at Cormorant Books, for organizing this interview and the virtual book launch which I was pleased to attend.
 
Image courtesy of Rosana Khabbaz

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FYI, the video of the launch is now available at DCB's channel at https://youtu.be/KMGREGFqZUU.