Book buddying - knots and treasures - by Joan Haig

I've decided to return to my 'book buddies' mini reviews. I like gifting books in pairs. Sometimes I choose books that are wildly different to one another; at other times, I select books for their overlapping themes. As I book swap and buy secondhand books, not all are new releases. Every quarter I will be sharing a book buddy pair here.

These two books are beautiful. They are strikingly orange - perfect for summertime! The Armourer's House by Rosemary Sutcliff, originally published in 1951, invites readers into the Tudor world of nine-year-old Tamsyn who moves from the seaside to London, where unexpected adventure awaits. There's something enthralling about reading historical fiction that is itself tipping into a historical read. As with other Manderley Press titles, this one is expertly prefaced - here by Lara Maiklem, author of Mudlarking. The shoreside theme is a perfect match for Knots and How to Tie Them by Lucy Davidson, which does exactly what it says on the cover. More than this, it goes against the grain of marketing the art of knot tying chiefly to boys. Both books are tactile and filled with skills and story that will broaden young horizons.

The Armourer's House by Rosemary Sutcliff, illustrated by Isabel Greenberg

40 Knots and How to Tie Them by Lucy Davidson, illustrated by Maria Nilsson

Previous book buddies include...

The Race by Roy Peachey
Danny Chung does not do maths by Maisie Chan

Here are two impressive debuts aimed at untangling Chinese people and culture from their stereotypes. I'm not sure Danny Chung's family escapes the stereotyping, but Danny does - and his escapades are bright with wit, charm and (often delicious sounding) cultural detail. The Race is dual narrative, but the voice that dominates is Lili, a young girl already wearied by other people's inability to grasp her identity as British Chinese and adopted. While Chan and Peachey's writing, tone and narratives are nothing alike, both books are about competition, loyalty, classroom antics and grandmothers. They'll make young readers think outside boxes and will leave them smiling.

 

Jack's Well by Alan McClure
Beside the Ocean of Time by George Mackay Brown

In some ways, these books are nothing like each other. (They are certainly like nothing else.) Jack's Well is honest, clever and original and is worthy company for this most unusual and moving novel by Scottish literary hero Mackay Brown. Both are about a boy. Both are about daydreams, fate and building existential narratives. And, as if mirroring the themes in form, both take you outside the main body; there are stories within the story. I'd gift these book buddies to curious teen readers who like a bit of swashbuckling alongside their soul searching.

 

 

 

The Girl Who Lost Her Shadow by Emily Ilett
The Shark Caller by Zillah Bethell

The first two books I am buddying both speak the lyrical, rolling language of the sea. One is set in Scotland and the other in Papua New Guinea. These stories will take young readers on very different but equally ethereal and engaging adventures, while preparing them for (or helping them to) confront painful issues - namely, loss and coping with change. Both celebrate sisterhood. These book buddies are the literary equivelant of sea salt and buttery caramel - a winning combination.

 

 

I hope you've enjoyed my pairings. My next book buddy post will be in Autumn!

Publication Day: The Dampest of Squibs - Ciaran Murtagh

I'm not that bothered by publication days. There. I've said it. 

By the time a book is ready to come out I'm usually so sick of the sight of it that the thought of having a party to celebrate it's existence fills me with dread. I mean, I'm not a natural, centre of attention party person anyway - that's why I'm an author - but even without the party, publication day always feels like a bit of an anti-climax.

There are so many little triumphs that seem worthy of celebration, but usually they happen on a rainy Tuesday in the quiet of your shed.  I celebrate every time I have an idea that might lead to something else. I celebrate whenever I fill a plot hole with a nifty bit of thinking. I celebrate when I finish the damn thing - boy do I celebrate! I celebrate when I start to see roughs and sketches for art work. I celebrate when I get delivered an advance copy. But publication day? That doesn't feel like it's for me.  That feels like it's for my publishers and their Twitter handle.

That's not to say that the celebration is done. I celebrate when I get an email from a kid who's really enjoyed the book. I celebrate every time I do a workshop and feel like I've connected with a class. I celebrate quietly whenever I see my book in a library - remember them? But it's those moments that I value, not the grandeur of publication day. It's maybe why I prefer Christmas Eve to Christmas Day. 

Please don't think me churlish or ungrateful, I'm thrilled that my book is out there for all to see and I appreciate the hard work from a whole team of people who have struggled to get it there. But I'm a writer, I celebrate the victories I feel I've earned through doing my job, and by the time publication comes along they're long gone.  By the time publication day comes along a year or so after I've finished the thing, that book is history and I'm onto the next and the next and the next. 

So publication day always leaves me feeling a little low. My book is out there. Will anyone notice? Does it matter that I've added another to the pile?  Maybe, maybe not. But the real buzz, the real sparks happen before and after - it's those I celebrate.