Process Talk: Cynthia Leitich Smith on Harvest House

Cynthia Leitich Smith (see my post on Sisters of the Neversea) returns to the loving embrace of family and community with her YA novel, Harvest House. I was delighted to see Hughie of Hearts Unbroken take center stage here. I asked Cyn if she’d talk to me about the community these books collectively build and how the writing of Harvest House played out for her.

[Uma] What made you return in Harvest House to this world, the world of Hearts Unbroken and Rain is Not My Indian Name? 

[Cynthia] In my creative mind-map, all my books are somehow connected. The Native stories and YA Gothic fantasies intersect at All the World’s A Stage, a fictional costume shop on South Congress in Austin.

That said, the Wolfe family is especially dear to my heart as my first protagonist was Jenna Wolfe from my debut picture book Jingle Dancer, ill. by Cornelius Van Wright and Ying-Hwa Hu.

For those who haven’t read the novels, the siblings Louise Wolfe, protagonist of Hearts Unbroken, and Hughie Wolfe, protagonist of Harvest House, are cousins to Cassidy Rain Berghoff, protagonist of Rain Is Not My Indian Name.

Louise and Rain are both teen journalists—a reporter and photoJ respectively, and Hughie is a theater kid. So, Story is important to all of them, though of course they each come to it from a different slant.

Harvest House puts their respective perspectives, personalities, and areas of expertise into play. At its heart, the book is about the importance of Native people telling our own stories, especially true ones. These characters were a natural fit.

[Uma] Your creative mind-map—I love that! When I first asked you about this book, you wrote to me:  “A great deal of thought went into the framing of the novel and the needs of the various audiences of young readers who'd be processing its themes.” How did thinking about audience lead you to this loving familial context? Talk to me about the role of extended family in this book. 

[Cynthia] The story touches on microaggressions, stereotypes, loss of life, and failures of law enforcement and the news media. They’re woven into the unfolding ghost plotline, which adds a surreal overlay, a safe distance to process what’s happening on the page.

At the same time, readers who’ve been personally impacted by real-world parallel events may benefit from moments of rest and reprieve in the story, opportunities to experience the more joyful and humorous sides of a full range of emotion. It’s important to remind them that we’re by no means defined by harm done to us, and that we deserve to embrace and enjoy life, to find strength and resilience but also laughter and celebration from our familial, community, and cultural ties.

Hughie’s family household is healthy, happy, and at times hilarious. He and his big sister have a close, positive relationship. Dad is a huge personality. He’s a retired army dentist, newly in private practice, who’s always going above and beyond to make up for family time lost when he was stationed far away. For example, Dad’s dedicated himself to having the most over-the-top Halloween decorations in the neighborhood. He goes all out, and that’s an inspiration to young Hughie.

It’s not that the Wolfes are unaware or uncaring about society’s challenges. Mom is going to law school to fight for Native children’s rights. Rather, they appreciate how blessed they are to have each other, and their positive vibe is inclusive and healing for those around them, including Cousin Rain, who has experienced a lot of personal loss—her mother and best friend.

[Uma] Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (and Two-Spirit People) are a literally haunting presence in this novel. Can you talk about that element of the book? What made you go there and what choices did you make that resulted in framing it as you did? 

[Cynthia] My original concept was the fantastical one. What if a haunted=house attraction—the kind of place people go during October for a fun, safe scare—was really haunted? So, a ghost mystery was a given from the start. Problematic Halloween/horror tropes include the “Indian burial ground” and “tragic Indian maiden.” As an author who engages with the tradition of Story, Harvest House was an opportunity to unpack and address both through a Native lens.

Once of course once you’re thinking about the mysterious death of a Native teenage girl—to fit with the YA audience—that raises questions related to the #MMIWG2S crisis.

[Uma] Which brings me to Celeste. How did you arrive at her amazing voice, bruised and trapped and yet compassionate and undefeated?

[Cynthia] Readers meet Celeste, who is a ghost, on page one. She’s a complex character to write in the sense that she’s existed for a long time but only lived into her late teens and her memory isn’t reliable. Also, her ability to speak aloud and influence the living ebbs and flows with the seasons.

Her voice is confiding and a mix of vulnerability and purpose. She’s determined to protect teenage girls and young women from someone she calls The Bad Man. The first line of the novel, “The Bad Man has many faces, and I remember them all,” flowed out of my fingers tips when I first started typing. So, I don’t know that I framed her voice, so much as channeled it.

[Uma] How did your own worldview lead you to develop these fully rounded characters?

[Cynthia] Conveying Celeste’s three-dimensionality as well as that of all the major characters was a priority. Of late, I was watching an episode of the TV “Castle,” and the inciting incident was the murder of a Native woman. Her name is mentioned, but we get no sense of who she was beyond her tribal affiliation. Native lives—Native humanity—deserve more respect than its often given by mainstream sources and that can have tragic real-world consequences. We can’t be viewed as expendable or nothing more than a starting place for someone else’s story.

In addition to fully developing Celeste, the cast includes a number of living teen girl characters, who’re beloved and living their best lives. They’re also individuals. Rain is quiet, sensitive and poetic, and a little geeky in her love for sci fi. Louise is outspoken and awkward, inclined to babble when she’s nervous and an academic overachiever. Their friend Marie, who is also a first-love interest to Hughie, is wry and skeptical, a relocated rez kid, a collector of PEZ. They’re not interchangeable. They’re each unique and glorious and relate-able to Native and non-Native YA readers.

Mvto, dear Uma, thank you for inviting me to reflect on Harvest House. I treasure your friendship and all you contribute to healing our world.

Likewise, Cyn! Thank you for sharing your perspectives. Thanks as well for your friendship over many years and for your generous heart.