Kristin Cashore debuted in 2008 with her YA fantasy Graceling, building a world of savage magic and complicated politics that have only grown more so with each subsequent volume: Fire, Bitterblue, and now Winterkeep (Dial Books, Jan. 19). In this latest, returning characters Bitterblue and Giddon journey to a whole new continent, Torla, one that has airships, a parliamentary democracy, and talking animals. Winding her way among several points of view, Cashore introduces Lovisa, the 16-year-old daughter of two of the leading politicians of the nation of Winterkeep, as well as both the telepathic fox that’s unhappily bonded to Lovisa’s mother and an enormous tentacled creature that lives on the ocean floor. Winterkeep’s people have brown skin, marking a conscious effort to diversify the hitherto–default-White Graceling world. I first met Cashore when we studied picture-book theory together in graduate school, which is ironic in retrospect, given that her books tend to be inches thick. I caught up with her via Zoom from her home outside of Boston for a conversation that ranged across worldbuilding, talking animals, and sex. It has been edited for length and clarity.

You’re exploring some new themes in Winterkeep. Why did you decide to situate it in the Graceling world rather than make an entirely new one?

This actually comes out of my listening to a lot of the online conversations about representation—particularly about race. I realized a pretty long time ago that I was not happy with the job I had done of establishing an explicitly racially diverse world, and I was a little bit stuck with the world I had created. So I wanted to make my fantasy world more explicitly diverse, [and to do that] I needed to expand the world because there’s only so much you can do to change the impression of the world you’ve already created. I also felt like, once I wrote Fire, I’ve established this world where if you cross an ocean, or if you cross a mountain, then there’s a different culture and a different type of magic. I wanted to give race the space that it needs to happen a little more organically. And that meant I needed to give my world a little bit more space.

Winterkeep is more advanced technologically and, arguably, in its form of government. What made you decide to make those breaks from the very traditional medieval fantasy world of the earlier books?

When I wrote Graceling, I was writing my first fantasy, and I was so overwhelmed. I was questioning certain aspects of our culture—mainly the ones that had touched me most personally, misogyny and dysfunctional family and things like that—but it didn’t even occur to me to set it in a world that wasn’t a kingdom. I’m not even sure when, but at some point as I got deeper into the characters and started writing more books, I just kept coming up against it [and wondering] how can I start to play with this a little bit. I’ve set up this council [that clandestinely works to advance justice in the kingdoms]. Doesn’t it seem possible that their activities might inevitably lead to revolutions or coups? I started to let that happen in kingdoms far away from the ones that I was writing in. So then when it came time to create a new world in Winterkeep, I just thought, well, it’s still going to be corrupt. It’s still going to be full of money-grubbing, cynical people. I mean, there’s no question I was influenced by our own politics and our own political parties. But why not diversify the politics of my world, especially if democracy is [what] I want my original world to start moving toward in some messy way?

Are there other continents on this world?

I’m not sure. Right now I’m about to start planning my next book. My favorite part of every book is the planning. I think that’s why I keep writing. It’s so much fun that I forget how hard it’s going to be.

When did the fox point of view enter the story?

The fox had a POV from the very beginning. I remember arguments among my editor, my agent, and a couple of readers. Most people just love the fox POV so much, but then a couple of people didn’t.

I have observed that there’s a great divide between people who love talking animals and people who hate them.

Yeah. And I also think that for some people, a talking animal and magic slot this in with a younger age group, but it doesn’t for me. I think that the fox has got some grown-up problems. I’m glad I stuck with it.

I’m really interested in the situational morality that’s at play. The fox wrestles with what’s the right thing to do, and so does Lovisa.

One of my favorite things to focus on is balances of power and how to be responsible with them. I really love stories where characters are learning [to recognize and] to be responsible with their power. And I think that the question of what is responsible is what creates the consequences. It’s a great situation to put characters in because it’s interesting, and readers recognize what’s going on. I love creating a little ambiguity. You want your characters to be a little complicated. So to take a good person and give them one of these questions, and watch how they decide to navigate it, I just think that’s really one of the parts of writing that requires a light touch and sort of feeling your way through it. And that’s the sort of time I really like spending with my characters.

Bitterblue has a healthy active sex life. Lovisa has an unhealthy active sex life. Can you talk about that?

It’s funny, I don’t think about audience a lot while I’m writing. But I do when I’m deciding what kinds of sex lives my characters have. Because it’s so important to me, for example, that Bitterblue has had a lot of sex with a lot of people, and it’s really important to me that that be presented as a fine thing, there’s nothing wrong with it. I was careful with the way she does it—she wants to be generous, she’s decided she’s not going to lie. I think that I am trying to create models of different kinds of sexual behavior. And then with Lovisa, I’m trying to make it pretty clear that this isn’t really the best way to be doing things. But it’s also understandable. She’s trying to figure out that she has this power and [how to use it]. And here are the consequences, and how does she feel about that? This goes back to power balances again.

Have you ever thought of really compressing and writing a picture book?

Oh, I do. I even have a few things that I’ve worked on in the past that I haven’t looked at in forever. I expect it’ll happen someday. I think what happens is these big projects consume me, and I just keep putting smaller things off. But yes, I do. I love picture books. I love a challenge. You know, my average book is about 120,000 words. So what could I do with 100 words would be an amazing challenge.

Vicky Smith is a young readers’ editor.