Sometimes the Mom Just Has to Die - Guest Post by Kristine Rudolph


I’ve been a part of two different Mother & Child book clubs with my kids over the past decade and there’s a question that the parents, mostly new to middle grade and YA, invariably ask.

“Why do the moms always have to die?”

The question is usually met with a chorus of Harry Potter and Bambi – actually lots of Disney movies get cited – and a general sense of frustration that we moms, super important in the lives of our children, tend to get offed in the very first pages. That is if we make it “onscreen” at all.

I usually wait for the din to fade before piping in. “The moms have to die because how else can the children figure things out for themselves? The main character has to grow, and that growth needs to come from somewhere besides Mom stepping in to solve, or show you how to solve, the problem.”

The moms don’t always die, of course, even if it feels that way sometimes. But in upper middle grade and YA literature, the parents do take a step back. They lose some of their agency.

Getting the parents out of the frame? In middle grade, that’s a good thing.

The family dynamic is a major subplot of my novel, The Twin Stars and the Soccer Superstar. I needed both parents plus an amazing aunt to make my story work. But I still had to take the mom and dad out of the main character’s primary struggle. They couldn’t step in and solve it for her. In my story, the mom suffers from depression and the dad is a hamfisted enabler, trying to keep his wife from being upset and, at the same time, hiding her illness behind a chuckle and a smile for his two daughters. Neither mom nor dad is able to help Cassaty find the missing soccer superstar. She relies on an ensemble of tweens and teens to make that magic happen.

Gayle Forman added a layer onto the mental health angle when she situated her main character Alex in a foster care / guardianship situation in her lovely novel, Not Nothing. In reality, the adult guardians were probably more invested in Alex’s well-being than he knows. But because Alex assumes he is an unwanted burden, he thinks he can’t rely on them for support when things get thorny. Instead, he makes a new friend. Together the two kids grow, change and solve lots of other people’s problems along the way.

Other authors have made non-death choices as well. Rebecca Stead’s remarkable When You Reach Me is set in the 1970s and features latchkey kids. The adults are definitely part of the story, but they aren’t the catalyst for the protagonist’s change.

In Allie Millington’s gorgeous novel Olivetti, the search for a missing mom forms the basis for the story arc. She is not – spoiler alert! – dead, but the resolution to her disappearance comes from new friendships and a magical typewriter. The family is together at the end because of the serious work of kids, not because a grown-up stepped in.

On the other hand, Holly Jackson’s YA thriller, The Reappearance of Rachel Price, turns the missing parent trope on its head with a missing mom who reappears in the first act. It’s her reappearance that upends the main character’s life. Again, while the mom plays a part in the ultimate resolution, the teens catch the evildoers and save lives.

If a child isn’t at the center of your story, you aren’t writing middle grade. That child is meant to grow and change by the end of the novel. Adults may provide scaffolding, cause more struggle or be benign “potted plants” in the story. But what they must never do is solve the problem for the child. There are a lot of tools to accomplish this, but sometimes the mom just has to die to make the story work.


Kristine Rudolph is a mom of three with two soccer-playing daughters, a left-winger and a defensive back who won her high school state championship in 2024. Kristine splits her time between Atlanta, Georgia, and Austin, Texas.


Comments