C.C. Harrington’s debut, Wildoak (Scholastic, Sept. 20), tells the intersecting stories of two vulnerable beings in 1960s Cornwall: Maggie a London 11-year-old staying with her grandfather in hopes it will help her stuttering, and Rumpus, a young snow leopard sold by Harrods as an exotic pet and abandoned when he is clearly unsuited to urban living. A threat to the existence of Wildoak Forest, where they both find refuge, leads to a dramatic climax. This enchanting, deeply affecting work is vivid and fresh while also reading like an enduring classic. Harrington answered some questions over email.

What do you hope readers will take from Wildoak?

I struggle with this question because reading is by nature so subjective. In general, my hope is that readers leave this book feeling a deep sense of belonging and interconnectedness to the whole of the natural world. It’s in caring for ourselves and one another—humans, plants, and animals alike—that we stand the best chance of protecting the planet. My hope is that Wildoak is the kind of book that can pull you into a whole other world of story. As a child I always loved that feeling, of stepping through a portal, losing track of time, and wrapping myself in the lives of characters. It’s part of what makes reading for pleasure so magical. So I hope it’s a book that invites broader and thoughtful questions, but I also hope it’s a book readers simply enjoy.

Thinking about environmental destruction can feel overwhelming.

Dr. Jane Goodall talks about the importance of hope when it comes to tackling climate change. Without it, we are left with despair, which in turn leads to apathy and inaction. It was a conscious decision on my part to write a story that is truthful but also hopeful. Your actions count, however imperfect or patchy. In time, individual choices have the potential to become collective choices.

One of my favorite picture books is The Lost Words by Robert Macfarlane, illustrated by Jackie Morris. You cannot help but fall in love with the plants and animals he writes about and the way she paints them. The idea being that when you know the name of something, when you pause to pay attention for a moment, noticing details, you are more likely to care for it and therefore be moved to protect it. In some ways Wildoak is a love letter to the beauty of the natural world and everything in it.

Writing from an animal’s perspective must be quite tricky. How did you approach Rumpus’ chapters?

This was tricky for me. I did a lot of research [and] worked directly with a snow-leopard keeper at a conservation-based zoo. I thought long and hard about how to convey his sentience and intelligence with just enough closeness to pull the reader in tight but not so close as to fully anthropomorphize him. Ultimately, I didn’t want the emotional impact of his presence to be limited, so it was often a gut decision as to what to keep and what to leave out.

What formative books do you remember from childhood?

I grew up in the countryside, my brothers were much older, and I was alone quite a bit of the time, so the characters I read about were very much my friends. Many of the books I loved most featured animals—Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Paddington Bear, Redwall, Charlotte’s Web, and Watership Down. I think what spoke to me, shaped me even, was the presentation of a world in which empathy and compassion stood strong in the face of adversity. I think that’s also partly why I write the kind of stories I write.

Laura Simeon is a young readers’ editor.