Harry Potter, Enid Blyton, Captain Underpants: One night at the book fair

If there's one thing that bonds my family together it's a second hand book fair. There is not a member of my clan who can pass up the chance to rummage around in piles of yellowing pages, searching for... who knows what? Which is how Sister B and I found ourselves speeding off into the night last week during my visit, leaving our combined offspring in the tender care of LOML (visit Maxabella if you haven't met him, he's a peach), en route to meet Sister C at the local charity book fair.

It was 8pm. The book fair was open until 9pm. Plenty of time, given it was but ten minutes up the road. Only it wasn't. By the time we'd missed the turn-off twice, squinting in the dark, and driven up the highway until we could find another right-hand turn (raise your hand if you've never been in that position in Sydney...), shrieking at each other between hysterical laughter because the whole thing was just so, so funny, it was 8.30pm before we screeched into a park near the hall in which the fair was held.

Or, sort of near. By the time we'd puffed up the hill, beside building site, around the corner and down a dark stretch of highway, it was 8.35pm. "I bet Sister C is inside, blithely browsing, not even thinking of us," muttered Sister B. I could almost hear the classical music playing as I pictured Sister C's serene joy. As opposed to the heavy metal thunder that would accompany our frantic run to the starting line.

"Good God, we've only got 25 minutes," shouted Sister B, throwing coins into the Donation bottle as she made a beeline for Children: Classics. I was right behind, emptying the silver from my over-burdened wallet. I was already loaded down by The Secret Garden, The Call of the Wild, a random Famous Five novel, and the Postman Pat Story Treasury (a classic??) by the time Sister C wandered over a few minutes later. "Did you even look to see if I was here?" she asked. Er, no, we had to admit.

Systematically, we made our way up and down the children's book tables. "Captain Underpants?" I asked, holding it aloft. "Mine!" said Sister C, taking it for Nugget. "Anyone seen any Zac Power?" asked a frazzled looking woman. "Not a one," said Sister B, sadly.

The organisers announced the 'last books' warning. Ten minutes to go. "I need a fire engine book," I said, muttering it under my breath, over and over. "I've got Inventors for Mr7," said Sister B. "Find me some Ladybird readers." Sister C pounced on a copy of the first Harry Potter for $1, touting it as the bargain of the day. Then she found me a different copy of The Secret Garden - "less girly cover and $1 cheaper," she said, handing it over. "Win/win."

By the time the organisers generously helped us out the door just after 9pm, we'd managed to collect a box of books each. Piles and piles of reading pleasure. Adding up to a princely donation from each of us to the charity in question. And we had not even made it out of the children's area. Sister B glanced longingly at the gardening books. "I saw a Paul Bangay over there, I'm sure," she said.

Then she looked at me. "Probably a good thing we only had 25 minutes," she said, hefting her foam box of books under her arm for the long walk back to the car.

[image: favim.com]

So you want to write a children's book?

Like every other parent in the history of the world (okay, those who think about this kind of stuff), I've considered writing a children's book. I can tell a story, you know. You should hear the one that I used to tell Mr7 about his bear Bronte back when he was two. Bronte went in search of a pink ribbon. She had to drive many, many miles to find one. It had rollercoaster thrills, laughs and even a moral. It was... meh.

The truth is that 'knocking out' a kids' book is no mean feat. As any writer will tell you, writing short is much, much harder than writing long. Every single word has to work so much harder when they're limited. Which makes children's author Karen Collum's achievements all the more admirable. With two picture books appearing on the shelves almost simultaneously (Fish Don't Need Snorkels (UK) and Samuel's Kisses, launched in Australia today, New Frontier Publishing), plus When I Look At You (UK, 2011) and a junior novel, Operation Raspberry, out in 2012, you could say that she's on a roll.

Given that she also has four children, it's surprising Karen has time to breathe. But, lucky for us, she found time to pop into the Fibro to answer a few questions for aspiring children's book authors.

Do you find that people think 'children's books are short, they must be easy'? How far from the truth is this?
Karen Collum: "Many people do assume that picture books are the easiest things in the world to write due to their brevity. In reality, I believe picture books are the pinnacle of skill, talent and creativity (then again, I'm probably biased!).

"For me, every single word in a picture book has to fight for its place in the manuscript. Does it propel the story? Does it add to the rhythm of the text? How does it sound when read aloud? Anyone can write a 500-word story, but the masters of picture books - such as Wendy Orr, Mem Fox, and Jackie French - manage to use those 500 words to weave a tapestry of story that is simply divine."

Do you work on one book at a time? How long does it take you?
KC: "I have multiple projects on the go at once, although they're usually at different stages of development. I have a notebook for recording ideas on the run: phrases, images, characters or story arcs that might be useful. The next step is to write the first draft. Sometimes that feels as easy as being a scribe; other times it's as difficult as squeezing words from the proverbial stone. I use a template during this phase, which enables me to think about the text in terms of a standard picture book format of 32 pages. I can think about where the page turns and see where the natural breaks in the text fall.

"I then put the manuscript away for as long as possible - sometimes for 12 months or more - and come back to it with fresh eyes and a sharp knife to begin the editing process. This can take anywhere from a few days to a few months as I agonise over every word. I also workshop the manuscript with some trusted critique buddies and listen to their feedback - which I don't always take on board, though I do always consider.

"The time frame varies, but for me it's a minimum of a 6-8 month process to get a picture book from the idea stage to the point where it's ready to submit."

Do you illustrate your own books? If not, how does the illustration process work?
KC: "I would love to be able to illustrate, but sadly my artistic talents are almost non-existent. As my friend and fellow picture-book author Kathryn Apel says, we non-illustrators have to paint pictures with our words. One of the best things I can do as an author is to allow room for the illustrator. The best picture books are the ones where the text and illustrations join together to create something so much greater than the sum of the individual parts.

"Once a publisher accepts my manuscript, they choose an illustrator they believe is a good match for my text. Most of the time authors don't have input to this process. It can be hard to let your precious manuscript go, but I firmly believe that the publisher wants nothing more than to see the book become a roaring success. They choose a certain illustrator for good reason.

"My experience with this process has certainly been a positive one. The illustrations for Samuel's Kisses [by Serena Geddes] are better than I could ever have imagined."

What do you think it is that makes our most beloved picture books stand the test of generations?
KC: "For me, timeless picture books are those that reflect our inner experiences and emotions. The classic that springs to mind is Where The Wild Things Are [by Maurice Sendak]. I think that it is still such a loved book because every child has felt overwhelming, powerful anger and wished they could be far away from their family.

"A modern picture book that I think will have longevity is The Princess and Her Panther by Wendy Orr and Lauren Stringer. All children are frightened by something and this book explores fear in a safe, poetic and beautiful way.

"I also think that some picture books stand the test of time due to their beautiful language. Some books are just divine to read aloud again and again, like Bear Snores On by Karma Wilson."

What was your favourite book as a child?
KC: "I read a lot as a child, but funnily enough I don't have a memory of any one particular picture book. My dad used to read us bedtime stories every night and I have wonderful memories of warmth and togetherness, even though I don't have a specific title that stands out for me. I did, however, love the Berenstain Bears books and learned to read independently with The Bike Lesson."

And I ask you the same question - what was your favourite book as a child? 

Wild about Harry

Mr6 and I are reading Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone together. Last year, I read it to him. He loved it. Could recount every detail. Then someone from school lent him the DVD. I warned him he wouldn't like it. This is a kid who has nightmares at the slightest provocation. Somehow I felt that Voldemort was large provocation. But he was not to be dissuaded.

So I let him watch it. With these words ringing in his ears: "I will let you watch this so that next time I tell you that you are too young for a movie you will believe me."

Five nights of waking up screaming later, he believed me. "I thought Fluffy was soft and purple," he said of the three-headed doberman depicted in the film.

"I wish you still did," I answered.

The unfortunate side-effect was that he wouldn't even read the second book with me. We'd begun it, he was enjoying it. Post-movie, it was pushed so far to the back of the book shelf that we have yet to find it again.

No-one was more surprised than me when he bought out the first book again last week. "Let's read this," he said. "I've forgotten what happens."

This time, we're taking it in turns to read. I love Harry Potter. I do. I read them all before I even had children. They're just fun. A rollicking good read. Say what you like about J.K Rowling's literary prowess, the woman knows how to write a great story.

So far, so good. No sign of nightmares or even unsettled dreams. Then again, no sign of Fluffy yet, and only the slightest mention of He Who Shall Not Be Named. I have my fingers crossed we'll get to the end and he'll want to go on to Book Two.

Then we'll just have to find it...

Speaking of reading, don't miss your weekly dose of quality blogs at Lori's Flog Yo Blog Friday.

The drama of reading at school

Today was Reading day at the school. I'm a regular. I've been rolling in for an hour or two from the start of kindy, when I was working through 'I can walk/I can run/I can read' style texts with kids who couldn't keep their eyes on the page for more than 15 seconds at a time. In those days, Reading was known as 'AKA Torture'. Now, it's kind of fun. I am genuinely astounded at the progress. How do kids learn to read? Even having watched Mr6 do it has not explained the magic.

I've been allocated Group Reading this term. I was offered training, but, after some discussion, the teacher and I agreed that I was probably up to the task. Mind you, it is no easy ride. Keeping six almost-seven year olds focussed on a book takes some wrangling. Occasionally, I even need to get out the voice that my sisters have dubbed the 'Mean Aunty Al' voice. I prefer to call it 'Cool, Mean Aunty Al' but they insist my nieces and nephews are not buying into the Cool at this stage.

Whatevs.

Today, two of my little groups did some work on the three-page plays they are going to present to the class.  They have read them through a few times and are at the stage of having to act them out. Mr6's teacher suggested I 'have them think about the kinds of actions they might need for their characters'. I had visions of Robert De Niro working through the motivations of Third Billy Goat Gruff. That vision kept me amused for quite some time.

Anyhoo, it was interesting to see the different approaches of the two groups. Group one - Mr6's group - have all chosen one character each to play and have stuck to that. Their reading is coming along nicely, but they were adamant they did not want to read it through a second time 'with actions'. They'll stick to the reading, thanks.

Mr6, who is the Big Bad Wolf in the truncated version of The Three Little Pigs (which features, disconcertingly, email), has been wandering around the house repeating what he thinks is his funniest line for a couple of weeks. It goes something like this: "I'll be huffing. There might be some puffing. And there's a pretty good chance that  your house will fall down." He is tickled pink with this.

Group two has a much more improvisational approach to their play (The Silly Billy Goats). There was a small all-in brawl before we began about who would take which part. The boy who ended up Second Billy Goat was desperate to play Mysterious Creature, but the group would not have it. He sulked through his part.

This group was thrilled to have a chance to act it out and helped me to construct a 'bridge' out of our reading mats. The Mysterious Creature wedged himself under the bag rack, so as to be more mysterious. They made every effort to out-Billy Goat each other when tripping across the bridge. It was all very hilarious. So much so, that the teacher from the class next door came outside to tell us, in a Very Serious Teacher Voice, to keep it down. End of hilarity.

I realised at that point that I am an amateur. I went home to work on my Mean Aunty Al voice. There'll be huffing... There might be some puffing... But there's a pretty good chance that it will be Cool.

Do you have a Cool, Mean voice that you use with other people's kids? One that will brook no nonsense without being the out-and-out shouting that you might, maybe, perhaps, use with your own? Do tell.


{image: corygodbey/etsy}

As usual, I'm flogging my blog with Lori at RRSAHM this fine Friday. It's a great place to sample fab new blogs.

When the going gets tough...

Mr6's literary career continues apace. He's finished writing his first original story - following our discussion about plagiarism - and has branched out into comic books. I've decided to help him along a little, begin building his 'platform' so to speak, by featuring the first three pages of his comic book as today's guest post. When he is rich and famous and supporting his ageing parents, he will be able to remember his humble beginnings on his mum's quaint little blog.

There is also the unspoken bonus of his mum not having to think up a blog post tonight when she has many of her own unwritten original stories to magic up out of nowhere.

So, without further ado and all that. All text is [sic] and is accompanied by illustrations of the same character you see above. There are a lot of thought bubbles (as per image) containing words such as 'ha' and 'ha ha'. The text inside these is identified below with TB. I can't use all illustrations as he has used his own name throughout - I have yet to discuss with him the joys of the nom de plume.

Title:
the ADVentURES of [Mr6] the night in shiny amar  - TB 'ha'

page 1:
once there was a night his name was [Mr6]. TB - will I win. I have to win. will I. ha you lose.

page 2 (pictured)
he was going to win a batle when he ran away. TB - I new it I am not going to win.


He assures me there is more to come. I don't know about you, but I'm desperate to find out the night's motivation for running away. Any suggestions as to what the reason might be?

{image: Mr6}

The mystery of my Blyton voice

Tonight I realised that I have an Enid Blyton voice. It is terribly proper, pitched slightly higher than my usual speaking voice, and rounded at the edges. Perfect for talking about lashings of ginger beer and the importance of being polite.

It's been creeping up on me for a little while, this realisation. As Mr6 and I worked our way through books one to five of the Famous Five series, with its references to Anne's love of keeping house and the thrill of hard-boiled eggs, right through books one to six of the Secret Seven with its jolly hockey sticks overtones and its terribly privileged young protagonists, I wondered why my throat hurt if I read more than one chapter. It's the strain of my Blyton voice.

It only really came to the fore this evening, thanks to a rapid switch between reading one of Dav Pilkey's haphazard Captain Underpants books and a quick adventure in the Wishing Chair with the Terribly Polite Goblin. Captain Underpants demands a sort of 'Cor Blimey' excitement - quite the contrast with the tea, scones and Sunday Best vibe wheeled out for any Blyton.

It's quite specific, the Blyton voice. I can't think of any other books we read that require it. Not Zac Power, that's for sure. Not Harry Potter. Not even the 27th Annual African Hippopotamus Race. Anne of Green Gables or The Secret Garden might be candidates for it, but there's likely to be little call for those in a house full of boys.

I read recently that Enid Blyton's books have been 'sensitively' updated to include mobile phones. Julian even calls his maternal figure 'mum', not 'Mother'. Shudder. I will have to stick to vintage editions as there would be no call for the Blyton voice in such books.

Still, it's good to know that I can pull it out when I need it. I've been asked to do a reading at the school mass on Friday. I think this is a cunning plan to ensure my attendance. I can't think of a better outing for the Blyton voice, though, can you?

Does Enid Blyton bring out the 'terribly English' in your reading voice? Perhaps you have another secret voice that only appears when you read certain things? Please share. It would be good to know that I'm not alone in sounding like a complete pillock.