A Conversation
with Lauren Tarshis,
Westport Author of
“I Survived” Series
for Young Readers
Recently, I went on a re-reading binge of my favorite
childhood novels that began when my son brought
home “The Westing Game,” which he was reading in
his English class and which was a beloved book from
my youth. What most surprised me was how vividly
these books still live in my imagination, how vividly I
remember the characters and plots, almost as if I lived
with and through them myself.
This provides, for me, further evidence of literature’s
tremendous power to shape our beliefs and
experiences. As a mother, this moves me to read and
think about the books my son reads and the worlds
he enters imaginatively through them. It’s not that I
wish to enclose him in a bubble where nothing bad
ever happens, but I do want him to nd, through
empathetic identication with characters and events, a
way to understand tragedy and to understand that it’s
possible to move forward and nd hope.
One writer for children who does exactly this, and
whose books my 11-year old son and I both loved, is
Lauren Tarshis of Westport. Her “I Survived” series,
paperback novels of roughly 100 pages each, tell
the stories of moments of national crisis from the
perspective of children living through them. Each is
gripping, honest, and provides lessons in resilience and
hope for young readers.
A mother of four, Tarshis, who is working on her 7th
novel in the series about the Battle of Gettysburg, was
kind enough to answer my questions about, among
others, where she found her inspiration for the series,
her writing process, and why kids love to read about
disasters (they really do!).
SA: As the mother of an 11-year old, my rst thought
upon seeing the series was gratitude because I can see
that my son, like many children his age and even younger,
is curious about disasters, destruction, tragedy and has
been for some years. But I have struggled to nd a way to
talk about them with him, and I appreciate that the books
address what I’d call iconic or dening national tragedies.
The medium of ction allows for a kind of identication
between subject and reader that diers qualitatively
from nonction (I’m thinking, also, of a recent study
that showed reading novels promotes empathy). Can
you speak to the decision to write ctional accounts (vs.
nonction for kids)? And also (my son asked me to ask
these), how did you rst become interested in writing
about disasters, and how did you decide which ones to
write about?
LT: My rst two novels, “Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out
of a Tree” and “Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell in Love,” were
‘quiet’ middle grade novels for girls published by Dial
Books for Young Readers (Penguin). I was all set to
continue on this pleasant path.
But at the same time that I was learning to write
novels, I was working at Scholastic, where I still work,
creating very delightful magazines and digital products
used by teachers to teach reading and language arts
skills. For years, my main job was creating Storyworks,
a magazine for kids in grades 3-6, which features
nonction, ction, plays, and poetry.
By far the most successful articles in the magazine
were (and still are) the narrative nonction stories I
wrote about disasters and other “high-impact” events
—battles, the dust bowl, adventures gone awry. Kids
loved these stories, and teachers did too, because
they gripped even the reluctant readers. And I noticed
something interesting, which is that when the kids
wrote to me, they didn’t ask about the disasters—the
ood or the volcano or the avalanche. They asked
about the boy or the girl in the story. That is what
fascinated them, the human element.
So as I was planning on writing my third middle grade
novel for girls, I suddenly had the idea for “I Survived.”
It struck me that there really were no books about
these events that were narrative in form and that
would enable kids to connect with characters and
view the events through the eyes of a child like them.
I wrote the proposal very quickly, and Scholastic was
the natural choice as publisher given their amazing
connection in schools. I always pictured the books in
classrooms.
The decision to make them historical ction was based
on exactly the point you raised—that I wanted kids
to connect emotionally with the characters. While I
often discover real kids in my research, I couldn’t count
on always nding a historical character who I could
build a rich story around (without taking too many
liberties). Historical ction seemed that way to go. The
only downside to this is that the books are incredibly
challenging and time consuming to write. I face all of
the challenges of writing ction—creating compelling
characters and plots-- and then have to interweave
the characters’ inner journeys with the often inexible
historical plot. I write many, many drafts of each book
before I give them to my editor and do enormous
amounts of research for each title.
The Scholastic team has led me towards the topics that
they believe will resonate most with kids, and that are
most requested by teachers. When I rst conceived of
the series, I thought I would write about lesser-known
disasters, but the Scholastic team—correctly—felt I
should focus on the “iconic” events. I just nished “I
Survived 7,” about the Battle of Gettysburg.
SA: What I love about the books is that they really focus
on how the child, from whose perspective the story is
told, perceives the events around him in a way that feels
very genuine to how children process and experience.
The narrative voice doesn’t talk down to children or try
to soften the tragedies, but at the same time, they’re not
overly scary. There’s almost a kind of matter-of-factness
about it, with the outcome being that we gure things out
in the process.
I’m curious to know how you managed that! Did your
research process include child psychology, or were you
working from your own observations of children?
LT: First of all, I thank you for your kind words, and am
really thrilled that you feel this way about my work.
One of the huge challenges of this series is making the
stories realistic and honest, but that don’t carelessly
ing open doors in children’s imaginations that lead
them to the depths of horror and evil that we can nd
when reading about history.
In my job at Scholastic, I have been writing for kids
for 23 years. I have visited so many classrooms. I
have beneted from the wisdom of colleagues who
are gifted writers and editors. I also have my own
four children, whose sorrows and joys I connect with
(probably too much) like all parents do. And I also have
my memories of my own childhood mindset. I was
overly sensitive as a kid, and every fear and insecurity
I felt is still etched into my mind (a bit sad!). So in
addition to observations of children that I have made
as an adult, I remember myself, and how I processed
emotions like fear and sadness.
SA: I’m curious about the narrative structure. Each of the
books begins at a climactic moment then goes backward
in time to lead up to the moment where the story began,
which also builds in suspense. This certainly hooked my
son (who devoured the whole series in one weekend—the
only time I’ve seen him read this obsessively was with
Harry Potter). Can you speak to how you developed this
structure and why?
LT: For this I owe the wisdom of an 11 year old, my
son’s friend Ben Kanter. I had written the rst draft of
the Titanic book, and I asked if I could read it to him.
In that draft, I started the story at the beginning of the
voyage, on the ship, with my character George enjoying
the sights and wonders. I could see Ben smiling politely,
and then he said, “Is there any way to start with the
action?” And of course that’s what I needed to do!
This became the structure of all of the books. I actually
write that rst chapter at the very end of the writing
process, to provide a concentrated version of the
book’s climatic scene plus details that will help ground
the readers in the time and place.
SA: When I ask my son what he nds so compelling about
national disasters like the Titanic or Pearl Harbor and
what he wants to understand about them, he gives me the
equivalent of “I dunno.” What is your sense of why children
are so intrigued by disaster?
From what I have observed, I suspect it’s curiosity that
exists outside of fear or even judgment and that is driven
by a children’s genuine desire to understand something
about how they would react in the face of catastrophe
(whether or not they can articulate that). How we react in
a life-or-death situation shows us what we’re made of and
what we can expect from ourselves.
To what extent could this preoccupation with disaster
be a manifestation of kids wanting to know more about
themselves in the world, especially outside the protective
circle of family, etc.? What have you heard from kids
themselves about what they love about these books?
LT: That’s such an interesting question, and I’m not
sure I have a denitive answer, though I love your
analysis—that curiosity about these events is a step
towards kids learning to confront the world outside of
their family. I was born the day after JFK was shot, and
from the earliest age I was just completely fascinated
by that disaster. It seemed like “my” event, and I
identied with it, though of course I was too young to
experience the reverberations.
I was a terrible reader as a child—I really didn’t read
books until high school. And the earliest books I loved
were about historical events and disasters. I do think
some of us (me) propel ourselves into these scenarios
and imagine how we would do, if we would have
the mettle to rescue others, to overcome fear and
hardship. My books really are about resilience, about
kids discovering inner resources they didn’t know they
had, family connections they didn’t understand fully,
the importance of hope and optimism in life.
I have received thousands of emails and letters from
readers over the past 2 years since the series began,
and I think mostly the kids love the combination of
action and emotion. They do connect with these
characters and they enjoy being pulled into the vortex.
I work hard to keep the action very fast-paced, to write
short chapters. My most prized emails come from
parents, and many have told me that the series is the
rst their kids have connected with. I work hard to
give the stories depth and richness, but to make sure
that every aspect of the stories, including the often
complex historical dynamics (as in Pearl Harbor or
9/11) are comprehensible to kids who might struggle
with reading.
SA: Speaking of 9/11, I found “I Survived the Attacks of
Sept. 11” very moving. I was actually surprised at how
much it aected me. On the one hand, I’m a native New
Yorker, and I was commuting from Westport to NYU in
the months and years before and after. I was also a new
mother going back to graduate school after summer
break, so it really colored my experiences as a new mom
with a life beyond motherhood that I value.
On the other hand, I have not been able to read any
ction or see lms that ctionalize 9/11, yet that barrier
dissolved reading your book. Maybe this is because it is
written for young readers and so gives me a way to talk
about it with my son, which is so dicult and painful
(especially since my parents still live in Manhattan).
How did the main characters, point of view, and setting in
a rehouse came to you? What kind of research did you
do for this book? Given your personal connection to the
event, to what extent was the research and writing process
dierent than for previous books in the series?
LT: I was extremely anxious about taking on 9/11, for
every reason you cite. I did more research for this book
than any of the others and also wrote more drafts. It
took months to come up with a backstory for Lucas
and his family, though I sensed from the start that it
should be a reghter’s story. All of the “I Survived”
books have two distinct plot lines—the story of the
disaster but also a sub plot that involves the inner life
of the boy. The challenge for me is nding a way for
these plots to intersect. It’s not enough to have the
characters just tossed into the disaster and tossed
out. Somehow what these characters experience in
the historical event helps them resolve some internal
struggle they are experiencing.
Sometimes I’ll write full drafts of these books and
then decide that this interweaving failed, and I need to
start again. This happened over and over again with
the 9/11 book. Much failure! In the end, I delved more
deeply into the stories of reghters, not only 9/11
reghters but others who had been involved in tragic
res all over the country.
There are several books about these events, and
reading them helped me better understand the impact
that a reghter’s work has on their entire family. The
understanding I gained from these books, which I
read after reading and watching probably everything
available about 9/11, enabled me to slowly build the
story of Lucas and his father, and then the story of
Lucas and Benny, and then back to Lucas and his
father, which is the heart of the book
SA: One of my favorite parts of each book is the ‘author’s
letter’ at the end—directly addressing young readers,
providing facts, directing them to further reading or, in the
case of “I Survived the Attacks of Sept. 11,” providing your
own connection to the event and then a timeline. Was this
something that you expressly wanted to do? What does
writing this part mean to you?
LT: My favorite part of being a writer for kids—and
the most unexpected part—is the opportunity I have
to connect directly with readers. I have done many,
many school visits around the country, and personally
answer every email I receive. The ‘author’s letter’ is
my chance to communicate more personally with
readers I don’t get to meet, to give the kids insights into
what I personally gained from writing the book, the
challenges I experienced, and any connection I might
have to the event.
I wasn’t sure how kids would feel about my author’s
letters, or if they would even read them. But by the
time I nish writing each book, I feel so emotionally
invested in the topic. The characters seem like real
people to me. I am thinking about them all the time,
dreaming about them, worrying about them. The
only person who knows the full extent of this is my
husband, who is so supportive, and makes it possible
for me to take the time away from family and the
household to do this work, who listens endlessly as
I talk about the characters and my struggles. I really
don’t discuss the books with anyone else while I’m in
the depths of the writing process.
But when I’m nished, I want the readers to know how
much of myself I put into these little paperback books.
I want to pull readers’ close and say, “You wouldn’t
believe what I learned writing this! It was so hard! And
so sad! I hope you like it!”
SA: And nally, an easy question! What is your connection
to Westport?
LT: My family moved to Westport when I was 11 and
lived here until college. My husband and I moved here
15 years ago, when our oldest was in third grade. My
parents are here, as is my brother and his family.
I love being in a place where I have such deep roots,
where we know three generations worth of friends—
friends I played with in elementary school, my parents’
friends, people we’ve met through our kids, who range
in age from 8 to 22.
Interestingly, I still sometimes go to many places where
I don’t know a soul. But there are other times when I
feel as though I am literally surrounded by my history.
People say the town has changed so much over the
decades. But in many ways it’s much the same, with
our beautiful beach, our library, the dynamic high
school, and Westport Pizzeria, where my friends and
I used to go when we were 11 for a slice and a grape
soda.