Kate McKinnon is a consummate comedian and character actor, known for her work on Saturday Night Live and her performances as Ms. Frizzle in Netflix’s The Magic School Bus Rides Again and as Weird Barbie in the Greta Gerwig blockbuster, to name a few. In McKinnon’s gothic-tinged middle grade debut, The Millicent Quibb School of Etiquette for Young Ladies of Mad Science, she brings us not one but four female misfits. When the Porch sisters—Gertrude, Eugenia, and Dee-Dee—are expelled from yet another finishing school, they receive an invitation to train with local eccentric Millicent Quibb in preparation for an impending battle against nefarious scientists. What else could the girls possibly say, other than, “Yes, and…”? We spoke with McKinnon about her literary touchstones, 19th-century naturalism and visual culture, and words of wisdom for young weirdos.
How did you hatch the hare-brained scheme to write a children’s book about mad scientists?
At the time [more than 10 years ago], I was performing comedy in basements, and I despaired of ever being on TV or completing a finished product. It occurred to me that with a book, you own the means of production. So, I wanted to be able to make a whole thing myself. And I love middle grade literature. It’s my favorite literary genre to read, and certainly to write. I love its tone. I love the combination of silliness and heartfelt positivity about the human condition. I love its themes of identity and fitting in and standing out, themes of wonder and discovery—of loving the magic in the world around us. And I love that it has characters with funny names and big hair. It’s like sketch comedy in that way. There’s room for big ideas and silliness in the same breath. And who doesn’t love a little magic dressed up as science?
What kinds of comedic and children’s lit references were banging around in your head while you were plotting?
I was very inspired by the fun with language in all of the Roald Dahl canon, and the themes of persistence, in spite of being dogged by the world around you. I was also very inspired by the gothic genre parody elements of Lemony Snicket, the inventive humor of Pseudonymous Bosch, and the unabashed wackiness of Astrid Lindgren’s Pippy Longstocking books.
You have an impressive array of weird girls in your repertoire. What do you hope to impart to what you call the next generation of weirdos?
A story is at its core, I think, a theory about life. The theme of any story can be distilled into one sentence that you think is true about life. And for me, the theme of this story is: the thing that everyone is telling you is too weird or too much or too impossible or too silly—that is the thing that will save you and will help heal the world. The world doesn’t need you to be something you’re not. The world needs you to be exactly what you are.
The book has an interesting frame. It’s billed as “by G. Edwina Candlestank as told to Kate McKinnon.” And there are lots of amusing digressions and footnotes throughout. How did you arrive at that self-aware storytelling voice?
I was obsessed with the introduction to Roald Dahl’s The Witches. It presents a set of instructions about how to identify a witch in the real world. I was so thrilled and titillated by this crossover from fiction into, “Here is what you need to know.” I wanted to give young readers that same sense of like, “You guys. I know this is fiction, but this could be real.” I just think that draws a person in that much more. And as I mentioned, I was so inspired by Lemony Snicket.
I also wanted to give a wink and a nod to medical and scientific writing of the 19th century. There were many books published by Alexander von Humboldt, who was a naturalist and explorer in the early 1800s. He has the most species of plants and animals named after him of anyone in history, because he was that important. He was the first to describe human-induced climate change in scientific terms, and he was a fierce defender of the natural world. I wanted to echo that style of writing, for it to feel like it was of another time.
There’s a seriousness to the narration. You’re committing to the bit.
Yes! I’m writing about these outlandish things in a way that feels urgent, and with the seriousness that only the language of the 1800s can muster. I felt there was a comedic contrast.
Speaking of voice, there’s a tantalizing preview on Instagram of you recording the audiobook. How did the experience of bringing your own characters to life compare to other voice-acting performances you’ve given?
It was a lot of fun, because as I was writing, I knew what every voice sounded like. I wanted so badly to record the audiobook. I divvied up the voices between me and my sister [Emily Lynne Berthold], who’s also a comedian. It was a very intensive acting challenge—in a good way. I didn’t realize that when you’re doing other voiceovers, you’re just saying every other line, or every few lines of dialogue. But here, I was saying every line, or every other line, of dialogue, and then the narration, which you have to feel as you’re saying it. I have so much respect for people who record and produce audiobooks.
And how did you handle the narration for the footnotes?
My producers, Elece Green and Michelle Figueroa, had all these creative ideas for how to approach all of the different elements of the book, and they taught me how to do it. It was wonderful.
The drawings and diagrams by Alfredo Cáceres add another element of the madcap macabre. How do you feel his art enhances your story?
As you can maybe discern, I’m obsessed with Victoriana and 19th-century botanical and anatomical prints. They evoke in me a sense of mystery and wonder that nothing else does, because they harken back to a time when not everything had already been photographed and put on Google. People were exploring and they were seeing, like, an octopus for the first time—I mean, the Humboldt squid is named after that guy Alexander von Humboldt—and they were making this beautiful art about it. What a time to be a naturalist! Anyway, I love these things, and I wanted the art to be like 19th-century medical textbook illustrations. Alfredo brought this very fresh, very beautiful Edward Gorey [feel], and some contemporary thing that I’d never seen before. He took that inspiration and made it something completely fresh. I’m obsessed with the art; I love it so much.
And you’re planning further misadventures for Millicent Quibb and her “pupeels”?
I am working on the second book as we speak. I’m so happy to have that opportunity, because I didn’t want to leave them.
I think that in middle grade, maybe more than any other genre, there is a hope for humanity that undergirds all of it. And I think hope for humanity is what our young people need in this moment, especially. So I hope that young readers will pick it up and maybe think that by being themselves and by caring about the things they care about, they can help heal our world.
The Millicent Quibb School of Etiquette for Young Ladies of Mad Science by Kate McKinnon, illus. by Alfredo Cáceres. Little, Brown, $17.99 Oct. 1 ISBN 978-0-316-55473-2
