Process Talk with Jen: Uma Krishnaswami on Birds on the Brain

[Posted by Jen Breach for Writing With a Broken Tusk]

Uma Krishnaswami published a star-reviewed chapter book, Book Uncle and Me in 2016. Now, in 2024, she has published the second book in the “Book Uncle” trilogy, Birds on the Brain. In it, we return to the characters and neighborhood we love and follow avid kid bird-watcher Reeni as she notices her place in the world–from friendships, to community, to local politics, to a global bird counting event–and creates change for social justice.   

[Jen] Uma, you wrote of Book Uncle and Me, that “I never thought I would ever write a sequel,” and yet here you are, with that book on the verge of becoming a trilogy! You have also said of starting a new project, “I have felt as inept at judging plot turns and balancing narrative and dialogue as if I were a beginning writer all over again. There’s a peculiar kind of joy in that repeated experience of newness. Every book teaches me only how to write that one.” Did that hold true this time, even when returning to Yasmin, Reeni, Anil, Book Uncle and their world? 

[Uma] This book was purely joyful to write. It felt as if I were traveling to a place where I'd been before, only this time I had a different tour guide. While writing Book Uncle and Me, I had spent time understanding the contours of Yasmin's mind and creating the context of her family. At the time, Reeni remained off-center, sometimes a foil to Yasmin and sometimes an ally. Here I needed to place her at the heart of the story and to allow her the agency to drive it. So even though the setting was familiar there were still plenty I didn't know. That gave me enough opportunity for the kind of optimistic bumbling I always find necessary in an early draft. 

It was fun to develop Reeni’s character. In Book 1, she is enthusiastic about movies and wild animals, so if I was going to focus that enthusiasm, I needed to make her grow even before Book 2 got started. In the end I did that in narrative, by having her explain:

I used to be wild about movies and about wildlife – all wildlife – but ever since I saw a whole flock of parrots on the rooftop, all of that changed. I decided there's only enough time to be wild about one thing, so now it's birds-birds-birds. 

That passage came out of an exchange with my editor, Emma Sakamoto of Groundwood Books. I’d written it first as a kind of throwaway line – “I used to be wild about all wild things but now it’s….” Or something like that, without any explanation. Emma suggested I might turn it into a character moment for Reeni, and reach for something in the voice to make it feel real. In writing that passage, I found I’d tapped Reeni’s energy, something that made her distinct from her friends. 

Interestingly, the question of sequels came up during one of those Covid-time Zoom library Q&As we can all recall–half the kids were back in school, and some were calling in from home. And one child asked, “Is there going to be a sequel?” I said, “I don’t know. Should there be?” They thought so, and we talked about it some more. The session ended. Then…I had time, you know, I wasn’t going anywhere. So the idea stuck. Because there were three friends, a trilogy felt right, with each book being from a different child’s point of view. 

[Jen] On this blog and elsewhere you have spoken eloquently and passionately about the histories that had/have not been taught to us–the erasure of women, the focus on Western histories, and so much more–I feel a little like Book Uncle and Birds on the Brain offer insight into a present we don’t often see: children in other places, on other continents, living out a universal childhood experience–play, friendships, familial relationships, self-doubt, finding power in an adult-run world–but with very specific and grounding details and textures in their lives. How do you find the universal in the specific like that? 

[Uma] The present we don’t see–that’s very interesting, because it’s only now, with children’s publishing growing in India, that kids there are beginning to see this present. So I’ve always assumed that the audience for whom this setting is unfamiliar will make that leap, as I did when I read Enid Blyton in my youth. If I write with an audience in mind at all, it’s some kind of imagined audience made up of the characters in the story, or kids like them. 

A very gifted editor once told me, it’s only in the specifics that we find the universal. I didn't understand that at the time but now I absolutely think it's true. How we relate to the places we live in and the people who share those spaces with us – that is the stuff of reality. As you say, “play, friendships, familial relationships, self-doubt…” Yet, however much the details might differ, people feel the same kind of feelings. That's the part we all get. We all feel happy. We all get angry and jealous and sad. We all find satisfaction in laughing together, even if the cultural nuances of humor might vary hugely. 

I’m so glad to hear your reaction to those connections I’ve tried to make between the adult-driven world and the children in it. I’m always interested in exploring how children find their footing in a world that isn't run by them, a world that all too often doesn't even prioritize their interests. In the pages of children's books–that’s where we can give children agency. And we can idealize the world, maybe even fictionally fix what’s wrong with it. NGOs fighting for social or environmental justice are really saying the same thing, aren’t they? Fiction can do that too, by saying, look, conflict and injustice are everywhere but maybe there are other ways to be. 

[Jen] You were/are working on three or four projects under contract and a new idea tugging at you at all the same time. You mentioned that writing a realistic list of thoughts, tasks, and deadlines created “the illusion of having it under control”, but can you speak more to having to juggle so much all at once? 

[Uma] You have to remember I've been doing this for a very long time. It has really become part of my life. So the juggling has become habitual and I've learned to create as you say, that illusion of control by becoming a masterful maker of lists. 

I give myself deadlines that are ahead of actual ones, because I've learned that writing or revising will mostly take way longer than my initial optimistic assessment. I've also learned to alternate between looking at the big picture, being aware of how much work will be needed, and spending hours very close to the words on the page.

Many of my stories have taken years to grow, so when I find myself stumped by a story, I put it away with the assumption that someday I'll return to it and find myself able to take it on again. 

But to your question, I love that state of having many stories jostling for my attention. I’d feel empty if I didn’t have at least a couple of projects at different stages of development. I do try at all times to have one longer project and one picture book In progress. That way when I get stuck with one, I can recharge by working on the other. So you know, I may have a lot of work to juggle but it’s not all in the air at once. 

[Jen] And one of those projects is the third “Book Uncle” book! Two thirds of this trilogy are something really special. I can’t wait for Anil’s story.