"What was your favourite book when you were growing up?"
It’s a question I’m sure every author has been asked a thousand times, but my son was the one asking me this time, so I thought I should give it some serious thought for once.
The earliest book I can remember reading for pleasure (as opposed to the Red Pirate and Blue Pirate books I was sent home from school with) was Meg and Mog by Helen Nichol and Jan Peinkowski. I have no idea why this book stayed in my head the way it did, but I was delighted when a friend bought it for my daughter to read when she was a little dot. When I asked her if she remembered it too, she squeed with delight and rushed up into the attack to see if it was still somewhere in her growing-up box (it’s not, so I might have to buy her a new copy despite the fact she’s fifteen now).