When I began writing the manuscript that would become Kat’s Greek Summer, the WIP title was Greek God Summer. I saw Kat, my fourteen-year-old protagonist, going on something of an odyssey during her summer in Greece. One where she would face metaphoric god-like characters—both good and bad—as well as endure god-like trials—again, both good and bad. My early readers found my metaphors—delivered as chapter titles—a bit confusing, so that aspect got cut. One aspect remained, however: my character’s developing connection to the Greek Goddess Artemis.
Even though Kat’s Greek Summer is realistic fiction, my favorite books to read were always fantasies. I loved the enchantment, the magical people and animals, the worldbuilding. Everything, really. And since I am half Greek, Greek myths were, and remain, some of my favorite stories. I love the tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses, though my particular favorites are those where magical objects, weapons or tools are used. Cupid and his magical bow and arrow. Artemis and hers. Atalanta and the golden apples. Zeus and his lightning bolts. Bellerephon’s magical bridle to control Pegasus. Hermes’ winged sandals that allowed him to fly. Perseus’ magical bag that could hold any burden, most famously the gorgon Medusa’s head.
As I continued to grow and read, I developed a particular fondness for books where a human/mortal character—often a child—would receive a magical object and then go on to have an incredible adventure. Two of my most memorable childhood favorites are Ruth M. Arthur’s The Saracen Lamp where a magical lamp takes the MC on an adventure, and Requiem for a Princess where the MC connects with a magical necklace. As a reader, I was completely transported by Arthur’s tales, and I suppose I needed to be transported. My parents split permanently when I was about six, and my dad moved across the country when I was seven. I never saw him, and I didn’t much understand why. There was nothing I could do about his disappearance and, sadly, I think his perceived desertion made me feel out of control. Stories, especially fantasies, gave me the escapism I craved, and I connected deeply to the level of power and control that the magical objects featured gave the usually mortal characters. How strong and often invincible those characters were!
Growing into my teen years, the stories I read explored the downside to magical objects—think Stephen King’s demonic car in Christine. Magic had a price was the message of many of these stories. I got that message to be sure, only for this reader, the magical objects retained their allure, as often that price appeared well worth the risk.
When I had my own kids, I often brought fantasies home for them from the library. Some became favorites—like the Harry Potter books. That said, my daughter was quite resistant to my choices. She liked, she would tell me, “real” books about “real” people. I hunted books in that genre for her, only I couldn’t help myself from sharing the fantasies I was reading, too. One day, when my daughter was a bit older and demonstrating an interest in feminist topics, I recommended a book that I’d really loved, a dystopian fantasy with very powerful feminist themes. Again, she was not interested. Deflated, I asked her why she wouldn’t even give the book a look. Her answer kind of floored me. It was something like this, “Mom, I don’t want to read books where the only way the women figure out their problems or get power is because of magic.” Wow. At last, I saw what she had been craving. Not the escapism I had wanted at her age, but stories about real people dealing with their problems in true, authentic, human ways.
With Kat’s Greek Summer, I wanted to depict both worlds. The novel is not a fantasy, yet Kat begins using a Greek bag with a picture of the Goddess Artemis woven into the design. Artemis becomes somewhat of a totem for Kat, where Kat learns about her and often speaks to her for guidance. Having Kat develop a totemic bond with Artemis was very important to the story and to me. I wanted her to learn about Greek mythology as a way to gain entry to her Greek heritage, but not to view her heritage as a fantasy.
Though there may not be fantasy or actual magic in the story, Kat’s desire for “signs” and help from Artemis is clear throughout, and her connection to her idea of Artemis is a powerful motivator for her own choices and actions. Most importantly, Kat’s connection to Artemis is there as a support when Kat must face the consequences of her choices and actions. In this way, I feel like Kat’s Greek Summer contains both sides of my personal magic coin: my childhood-self always wishing magical objects could be real, and my writer-self understanding that there are young readers out there who want authentic human solutions to their problems.
Half-Greek, half-American, Mima Tipper and her writing reflect her heritage—a little bit old-country, a little bit rock and roll: one foot wandering through the dreamy realms of myths and faerie tales, the other running on the solid ground of fast-paced, contemporary story. She earned her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts. “Kat’s Greek Summer” will be her first published novel. Beyond devoting most of her time to writing, Mima volunteers at her local library and is committed to promoting literacy. Mima lives in Vermont with her family. Learn more at: http://www.mimatipper.com
More about the book: Almost-freshman Kat Baker has big plans to train all summer long so she can become the running goddess of her high school. But when she learns her summer will instead be spent exploring her roots in a rustic Greek village, Kat’s sure her popularity plan is toast. In Greece, punishing heat and cultural clashes force Kat to launch a risky and covert training strategy to keep her running-star dreams alive. During her late-night runs, Kat is swept into encounters with Theofilus Zafirakis, a dreamy but off-limits Greek boy. Soon, Kat’s secret odyssey spirals out of control, putting one of her cousins in danger. In the end, it takes the unexpected meddling of an entire Greek village for her to discover that the key to belonging anywhere is belonging first to herself.