When the Wind Blows harder - Anne Rooney

Rock-a-bye baby on the tree-top,
When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall;
And down will come baby, cradle and all.

In 1982, Raymond Briggs (of Snowman fame) published a dark graphic novel on nuclear apocalypse. The protagonists, the mature couple Hilda and Jim Bloggs, prepare themselves and their house for nuclear blast following ridiculous government advice, a thinly veiled reference to the UK government's Protect and Survive. So Jim paints the windows white and they try to buy in food to tide them over the first few pro-blast days, but they remain blissfully ignorant of what the impending disaster really means. Inevitably, their preparations are of no use. The end is bleak.

For those who don't remember the Cold War, it really did seem that the end was nigh. And the government really did promote ridiculously pointless preparations, apparently in an attempt to make people feel, if not empowered, at least not as completely powerless as they actually were. When the Wind Blows was a bold thing to do. Graphic novels were very much seen as a children's genre and Briggs very much as a children's writer/illustrator. But this is deep social commentary and truth-telling of a type that almost everyone shied away from, and not just in talking to children.  

And here we are again. I'm not alone in being incredibly frustrated at how any writing about climate crisis for children has to be sugar-coated. We can't present the truth, it's too hard to bear. We can't tell children their world is doomed on our present trajectory. We can't show what will happen if we do as little as we are doing now. We can't show them despair. So we (me too, I've followed the editorial line) water it down and present little projects like making bird feeders from old plastic bottles and posters encouraging grown-ups to do their recycling. There is some sense in this, though not enough. We don't know the circumstances of children who will be reading our books. Not all of them will have a knowledgeable adult to talk to about this, or even a reasssuring adult to give them a cuddle when they're scared. As distant authors and editors, we don't want to be responsible for despair and self-harm. Nor do we want to do nothing. And we don't want to carry on writing our 'green' books that feel increasingly like Protect and Survive. I'll let you into a secret: we know that dying your old t-shirt won't save the planet. Still, publishers don't want children to be scared.

But, frankly, scared is appropriate. People who aren't scared don't act. It's time to stop lying. Young people know what's going on with the climate. Let's say (like When the Wind Blows), 11+ is the point whent it's appropriate to remove the kid gloves. We need When the Wind Blows for climate change. It's time. I doubt Raymond Briggs, at 87, will want to do it. I'd do it (not the illustrations, obviously), though I doubt any publisher would take it on.* I spend most of my time writing about science (incuding both climate and mass extinction) and know exactly how ridiculous most of what we present on this is.  

Climate catastrophe is as terrifying a place as nuclear apocalypse. Interestingly, fiction can go there. There is plenty of climate-armageddon fiction. Fiction is doing its proper thing, inciting pity and terror. But should we be relying on fiction to educate young people about climate change? Isn't that what non-fiction is *supposed* to do? Why are non-fiction writers being locked out of the most important topic of our age? Come on, publishers, let us write honestly about the climate crisis. Let us give the background that supports the wonderful climate fiction and shows that it's not just science fiction but science and fiction — with a fast-decreasing proportion of fiction.

Like nuclear war, climate crisis makes us feel impotent. What can we individually do that will help? It's not us — the ordinary people — who can make a difference, we feel. It's not true. People persuade themselves of that because they don't want to give up their most damaging behaviours, but we've already seen how consumer pressure is pushing manufacturers to take notice at last.

The most important thing we can do, as writers, as teachers, as publishers, is to speak out honestly. Because when the bough breaks, we all fall, even the babies.

* I am proposing this to one of my publishers — the one I feel is most likely to take something risky. We'll see how it goes

All images except Protect and Survive from When the Wind Blows, Raymond Briggs, 1982. Used without permission, but in a good cause

Anne Rooney

 Latest book:

 

 

 

 

 

Lonely Planet, The Dinosaur Book, 2021

 

A weekend retreat on writing about climate change – by David Thorpe

Incredible as it may seem it's still possible for children to go through school and come out the other end and hardly be aware of the existence of climate change, because it is barely touched upon in the curriculum.

It seems like a pretty vital topic, then, for writers to choose to include in their stories – to bring the reality of this topic into a children's imaginations!

That's why, this March, I'm running a weekend retreat for writers at the Welsh writing centre Ty Newydd, set in the stunningly beautiful Lleyn Peninsula.

Helping me to do this will be the poet, dramatist, climate change campaigner and performer Emily Hinshelwood.

We will be challenging writers to think about ways to expose and write about the often hidden connection between our profligate use of fossil fuels and the loss of habitat, life and lifestyle – that many in the world are already experiencing.

In our everyday lives we often don't have the opportunity or space to consider the emotions that arise in us as a response to such a nebulous and all encompassing threat as catastrophic climate change.

This threat seems both remote and near, far away in time, and yet touching the every day weather and the behaviour of plants and wildlife around us even now – as if they are early warning sensors.

We don't know how to interpret these portents and the very uncertainty around climate change and the sheer size of the fact makes us feel powerless and afraid.

Some of us go into denial, some of us are paralysed with shock and some of us are galvanised into action.

In writing for children, they mustn't be made to feel frightened or scared into shock and powerlessness, they must be helped to feel that the future does contain hope and that it is possible to do something. But there is so much to know. Where can writers start?

There is already no shortage of novels for children with the theme of climate change. Three years ago I took part in a session at the Hay-on-Wye Literature Festival where, with the author of the Carbon Diaries, Saci Lloyd, we touched on some of them.

For our pains we were accused of poisoning children's minds by the right-wing press and online trolls!

I've written something about the history of writing and climate change here.

In another project I've been involved with, Weatherfronts, an anthology of writing about climate change, some writers have addressed the question with a story set at a domestic scale rather than apocalyptic science-fiction.

Darragh Martin wrote a hilarious story for young children about fighting off a nasty polluter called 'Thumbelina Jellyfizz and the Elephant in the Bathroom'.

And what about picturing a bright future where we have solved the problems of climate change but maybe we have other problems instead?

To build a bright future we first have to envision it. Children, with their unfettered imaginations, unconstrained by preconceptions, are well able to contribute their own ideas. Writers can stimulate them to do this.

So our weekend course will discuss the many facets of climate change and the ways in which its impact is felt both by participants on the course and people throughout the world.

We will experiment with a variety of different approaches and investigate ways of tapping our emotional reactions, of using research, imagining possible scenarios, and generating meaningful stories.

We will also be using the cycle of recovery from shock and grief because we think it is directly relevant here.

We have seen people move through these psychological stages:

1. shock & denial when they first hear about climate change; 
2. pain & guilt about the suffering that humanity has caused and is causing by the use of fossil fuels; 
3. anger and blame-laying; 
4. depression, powerlessness, reflection; 
5. an upward turn as one realises that life could still continue; 
6. reconstruction of one's life in a new way that is more sustainable, perhaps making connections with like-minded people; 
7. and finally acceptance and hope as they learn to deal with the new situation.

This almost sounds like a 'voyage and return' scenario or perhaps a 'conquering the monster' type of story, doesn't it?

It's going to be exciting to see what people come up with. Emily and I can't wait to see you there!

Find out more here: http://www.tynewydd.wales/course/writing-climate-change/

[I am the writer of Marvel's Captain Britain, the sci-fi YA novels Hybrids, Doc Chaos: The Chernobyl Effect and the cli-fi fantasy Stormteller. I also run a regular writing course, called 'Making Readers Care' that can be taken online. Contact me if interested.]