In Cassie Beasley's forthcoming middle grade debut novel, Circus Mirandus (Dial, June 2015), a young boy believes wholeheartedly in the fantastical stories his dying grandfather has told him about a magical circus, and he thinks the elusive circus may hold the cure he so desperately needs—if he can find it. With an SLJ starred review, as well as stars and accolades from Kirkus and Publishers Weekly, this charming and tender fantasy evokes echoes of Roald Dahl and J.M. Barrie. Circus Mirandus is your debut novel. What’s the story behind the story? I wrote the first draft of the book that would become Circus Mirandus in June 2012. I was earning my MFA at Vermont College of Fine Arts, and all of my major projects up to that point had been YA novels. But I had the idea for a story about a boy and his grandfather and a magical circus, and it caught me in a way nothing ever had before. I loved it. I couldn’t let it go. So I wrote it in a week, and then I spent the next couple of years revising it. It’s been such a huge part of my life that I almost don’t know what to do with myself now that I’ve finished! How did you dream up the magical Circus Mirandus? How did you decide on its name? Once I had some of the characters in mind—the Lightbender, the manager, Rosebud—the circus started to build itself around them. Every magician at the circus has his or her own unique magical talent, and the way they contribute to the circus is based on that. The Lightbender has his show, of course, but Rosebud makes healing potions, so she’s the circus’s doctor. In some ways, it was a setting that grew out of the characters who inhabit it, and of course it’s the kind of place that I desperately want to visit. I’m glad you asked about the name because I spent a long time trying to come up with the perfect one. I searched online translators and looked at lists of words. When I found mirandus, it seemed to fit the place I wanted to write so well. It means wondrous and marvelous. It’s so refreshing to see a fully developed, loving relationship between a grandparent and child. As the book opens, Micah stands to lose the only parent he’s ever known. And yet, despite the heavy premise, the book doesn't feel bogged down by grief or sadness. There is a still a sense of wonder and joy to Micah’s quest to save his grandfather. How did you achieve that balance? I love Grandpa Ephraim! He was actually the first character to come to me, even before Micah, so their stories have been growing together from the beginning. His backstory is critical to the novel’s plot, and the chapters in which readers learn about his past are some of my favorites. I think the wonder and joy comes from the characters themselves. Grandpa Ephraim and Micah aren't the type to despair. They are both the kind of people who can find hope in a situation that most would deem hopeless, so even though Micah is going through a difficult time, he’s still holding on to the belief that everything is going to be okay. I think that perspective is at the very heart of the story. This book has been compared to the works of the great Roald Dahl—there’s fantastic magic rooted in a mostly realistic world, filled with clever and courageous kids and at least one cruel and ignorant adult who wields power over our hero. Who were your reading influences? Were there any particular books that sparked your desire to pen your own stories? The first time I heard the comparison to Dahl I couldn't believe it. I still can’t. I wanted to have powers like Matilda when I was younger. Who didn't? As for influences—from the writer’s perspective it’s not easy to get the distance you need to say, “Oh, I was influenced by such-and-such.” At least that’s been my experience. I think it’s because the stories that are most likely to have influenced you are the ones that you've read so many times that they've become as much a part of you as anything you make up on your own. But I never can resist the opportunity to talk about books. When I was younger, some of my favorites were Holes, The Princess Bride, and The Giver. I love Kate DiCamillo’s work. And I was the perfect age to grow up with the Harry Potter series. When I was in junior high, my mother refused to read the books, so I followed her around the house reading them aloud until she was thoroughly hooked as well. Like many a Dahlian villain, Aunt Gertrudis is a character we love to hate. She’s mean, rude, dismissive, and infuriatingly stubborn. But we also get to see a bit of history and some hints about why and how she developed into the awful person she is today. How important is it to create backstory and motivation for secondary characters—especially villains? It’s very important. It’s easy to fall into the trap of writing a character who is purely evil without any rhyme or reason for it, but villains have their own logic. They aren't wicked or wrong in their own minds. Because of that, Aunt Gertrudis was one of the more difficult characters for me to write. The earliest versions of her were too bad. She wasn't believable. But as I developed her backstory, I found Aunt Gertrudis’s true nature. She is so horrible, but she thinks she’s in the right. She sees herself as the defender of sense and practicality in the face of Grandpa Ephraim’s “nonsense stories.” It makes her a more effective villain I think.

Spook the Bird. Photo courtesy of Cassie Beasley.

I saw on Twitter that you have an African Grey parrot who may have served as the inspiration for the flighty, chatty, irrepressible Chintzy. Is that true? Is your parrot also named Chintzy?  I do! Her name is Spook the Bird because my family adopted her on Halloween three or four years ago, but she is very much the inspiration for Chintzy. She is definitely chatty. Actually, she’s yelling at me from across the room right now because she wants to sit on the sofa with me, but she’s been in a bitey mood lately, so I’m a little hesitant! Children’s lit experts often talk about a “sense of hope” when discussing what differentiates a children’s book from an adult work. So much of the DNA of Circus Mirandus is about hope and faith and imagination. How do these elements come into play in your own life? I mentioned Grandpa Ephraim and Micah’s capacity for belief in the face of overwhelming odds. It’s a quality that I so admire, and not just in fiction. I think their faith is part of what makes them compelling characters. Imagination and hope keep Micah going; they make him brave. I think most of us could do with a little more of that in our everyday lives. The film rights for Circus Mirandus were acquired back in February—a full four months before the book publishes. How did that feel? What are your thoughts, hopes, and/or concerns about your work being adapted for the big screen? If you were the casting director, who would you cast as Micah, Ephraim, Aunt Gertrudis, the Lightbender? It was a complete surprise! I still grin from ear to ear whenever someone mentions it. And, as thrilled as I was when I first heard that Stone Village was interested in acquiring the rights, I was even more delighted when I had the chance to talk to [film producer] Scott Steindorff on the phone. I am so pleased with his vision for the film. They are considering screenwriters right now. I’m not sure that I’m allowed to name names, but I will say that I’m only getting more excited as the project moves forward! I do think Circus Mirandus is the kind of story that can be adapted very well to the screen. It’s got something for readers and viewers of all ages. And the circus itself—that’s something I can’t wait to see outside of my own mind. It’s probably a good thing that I’m not going to be in charge of casting, because I've been trying to think of who I would cast as the Lightbender for weeks now, and it’s impossible. Other people have been happy to tell me who they picture when they read though, and so far my favorite suggestion has been Ewan McGregor. By the way, my editor has volunteered to be Bibi, the circus’s guardian, and I do think she’d make a wonderful tigress!