Paul Fleischman Explores Language, Nature, and Innovation in Children’s Literature

A Celebrated Author Shares His Journey, Inspirations, And Unique Storytelling Techniques

Paul Fleischman’s works blend imaginative narratives, environmental awareness, and inventive multi-voice storytelling to engage young readers and deepen their connection to language and the natural world.

Paul Fleischman is a celebrated author whose extraordinary ability to blend imagination, nature, and language has captivated readers of all ages. His latest book, The Class With Wings, beautifully intertwines the migration of veeries with a classroom’s imaginative journey, inviting children to rediscover their connection to the natural world. Throughout his career, Fleischman has masterfully experimented with innovative narrative structures—often employing multiple voices to create a symphonic storytelling experience that enriches perspectives and surprises readers.

Fleischman’s masterful storytelling and inventive formats enrich children’s literature with creativity, education, and heartfelt connection to nature and language.

From his early fascination with language play that resulted in Alphamaniacs to the environmental urgency conveyed in Eyes Wide Open, Fleischman’s works reveal a deep curiosity and profound respect for both the written word and the living world. His memoir, No Map, Great Trip, offers personal insight into a writer’s journey shaped by unique experiences and a commitment to authentic exploration. Sharing the rare distinction of a Newbery Medal with his father, Sid Fleischman, Paul carries forward a legacy marked by joy, creativity, and the magic of storytelling.

We are honoured to feature this illuminating interview in Mosaic Digest magazine, where Paul Fleischman shares the inspirations behind his books, his innovative approach to storytelling, and his heartfelt mission to connect young readers to nature, language, and history. His work stands as a testament to the power of literature to educate, inspire, and open new worlds for readers everywhere.

Your latest book, The Class With Wings, intertwines the migration of veeries with a classroom’s imaginative journey. What inspired you to connect avian migration with children’s education, and what message do you hope young readers take away from this narrative?

At 20 I moved from urban Berkeley, California to an old house at the end of a road in New England, where suddenly my eyes were opened to birds. I stalked, noticed, memorized, jotted notes, and–as I lived there by myself for much of two years–found them cheerful company. Today, I fear the natural world feels like a distant planet to both children and adults. The Class With Wings was an attempt to bridge that gap by showing how a teacher can forge a connection between kids and birds, the wild creatures we encounter most often. Courtship displays, threats from predators, long migrations in search of food for their young: we humans know these as well. We’re all part of the animal kingdom.

In Alphamaniacs, you spotlight individuals who playfully manipulate language. How did you select the figures featured in this book, and what drew you to their unique linguistic explorations?

I looked for extremes: extreme play, curiosity, and especially persistence. It began when I was 10 and read Alastair Reed’s lists of words that sounded like counting from one to ten: ounce, dice, trice, quartz, quince…I’d never realized language could be a sandbox, not merely a tool. In high school I discovered Ernst Toch’s Geographical Fugue, composed wholly of place names. When I read years later about Georges Perec’s novel without the letter e, I knew I had to find a way to gather these verbal explorers together. Originally, I put them into a play for adults, which highlighted the works’ performative aspect. But a play didn’t suit them all and a book ended up being a much better container.

Your memoir, No Map, Great Trip, offers insights into your path to becoming a writer. Reflecting on your unconventional journey, what pivotal experiences most significantly shaped your literary voice?

Everyone’s pivotal experiences are different. Mine include the day my parents came home with a hand printing press, opening up the visual side of language to me. My first shortwave radio arrived around the same time–the era of the Vietnam War–and showed me that history was happening now. I hadn’t been a reader for pleasure until the day I opened The Grapes of Wrath at 15; by the time I finished it, I was a reader for life. Though I wasn’t a writer yet, a 2000-mile bike trip when I was 19 was a preview of the independent life of a freelance writer I’d eventually adopt: self-contained, planning one’s own route, searching out new places and experiences. In my literary travels I  pursued  what interested me if not necessarily the public, and I opted out of social media, devoting myself to writing rather than promoting.  It made for a great  trip.

Both you and your father, Sid Fleischman, have been honored with the Newbery Medal. How did your father’s writing influence your own, and what was it like to share such a prestigious accolade within your family?

From my father I learned that history was compelling, that we all love to laugh, that similes and metaphors take time to find but bring writing vividly to life. I began as an outliner, but gradually moved toward his own improvisational method. He’d been a magician in the last days of vaudeville and brought that sense of performance to his books. I’ve followed suit. The master of ceremonies who narrates Alphamaniacs speaks in my father’s voice. We both took joy in our great good fortune and the other’s when Newbery Medals came both our ways.

Your works often experiment with multiple viewpoints and formats, such as the multi-voice narratives in Joyful Noise and Seedfolks. What draws you to these innovative structures, and how do they enhance the stories you tell?

It began with hearing my two flute-playing sisters working on duets. Two voices were so much more interesting than one. When I joined a recorder consort in college, two became ten. I was in heaven and have been playing music with other people ever since. Eventually I wondered how I might bring the synergy of chamber music into books. The poems in I Am Phoenix and Joyful Noise came out of playing duets. Bull Run, with its cast of sixteen characters giving their account of the Civil War’s first major battle, was an attempt to go symphonic. I’d read Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying but was unaware of any other multivoice fiction for adults or the young. I explored the possibilities further in Seedfolks, Seek, and many other books. Other authors saw the advantages and did the same. A big cast provides variety of voice and material–big plusses–as well as unpredictability. The reader doesn’t know who’ll be speaking next. The older I get, the more I’m aware of the importance of unpredictability.

“The reader doesn’t know who’ll be speaking next—unpredictability is important.” – Paul Fleischman

In Eyes Wide Open, you tackle environmental issues for a young adult audience. What motivated you to address such complex topics, and how do you approach making them accessible and engaging for younger readers?

My goal in the book was to explain our environmental predicament through a vocabulary that could unlock the meaning of events in other spheres as well. Denial, vested interests, and other phenomena described are powerful keys to give to readers. Likewise the knowledge that the world they’ve grown up in is very new and full of costs of which we’re just realizing. I gave them many lenses to look through and accented not just the problems but the solutions being  tried. And as I learned through the shortwave radio, I tried to convey that history is happening now, all around them.