Oats by Paul May

Some time during last winter I had an idea. I have an allotment in North London where I grow vegetables and fruit and flowers. There's a wild flower meadow and a pond in an old bath that was once in the former mental hospital in Friern Barnet, but the bath is a story for another day. I say I had an idea, but it was almost a vision. I had a bit of space and I pictured it in my head as a field of oats.

Why oats? I don't know, but once the idea was there I had to run with it. I would buy some seed, plant it and watch it grow. How hard could it be?

Well . . . the first thing I discovered was that there were two main varieties I could grow, Avena Sativa, the normal, everyday oat, and Avena Nuda, also known as naked oats and mainly found in health food shops. The difference is this: Avena Sativa has an outer husk, and then a hard inner husk which surrounds the grain and is not that easy to remove. More of this later. Avena Nuda doesn't have this inner husk, making it much easier to process. So, naturally, I set out to find some Avena Nuda seed.

Avena Nuda is not widely grown in the UK. I found a seed merchant who had it. The minimum order was 500 kilos. I needed about 500 grams. I found people who could supply the seed, but they were in Ireland and couldn't supply the seed to the UK. So I bought a pack from a health food shop and tried sprouting those seeds to see if they would be useable. The germination rate was very poor. I tried several times with different conditions but in the end I gave up and went looking for seed of Avena Sativa. Lots of places sold small amounts of this for sprouting and making oat grass, to juice or put in salads, but I checked with the suppliers and it was suitable for sowing outside.

Oats are a cold weather cereal, which is why they're grown in the north, so I wasn't sure how they'd do in London where summer temperatures are high and getting higher. I planted them on March 5th, having first made a tool of which I was quite proud to enable me to space the seeds in rows three inches apart. They germinated quickly and I was soon fielding regular enquiries about what I was growing. I'd discovered during my initial research that oats are supposed to secrete something from their roots that suppresses weed growth. According to the books this effect is so strong that you shouldn't plant anything else where the oats have been until three weeks have passed. 

I am not convinced. Maybe the weeds grew less fast than they would have done, and they didn't grow as fast as the oats, but grow they did. And I'm glad about that because the poppies grew too and for a week or two looked fantastic. And the field of oats looked just as I'd imagined it, first green, then golden.

I started to worry about when to harvest. The tops of the plants seemed ripe, but there were greenish heads lower down. I cut a small amount before going away on holiday in July and left them to dry in the greenhouse. Then, when I got back, I tried to process them. It's not that hard to separate the outer husks and the straw from the grains, but those inner husks are really tricky. I tried various things, including putting the grain in a plastic bag and hitting it with a lump hammer, using a rolling pin, and grinding them in a blender. I managed to extract a small amount of oatmeal but it hardly seemed with the effort, except . . .

When I tried separating the grain in the oats that I hadn't yet harvested I noticed that they  popped out of their husks far more easily. And I had another thought. People were growing and harvesting oats for centuries before they ever had mills and modern machinery. I wondered how they did it and discovered via an interesting website that oats used to be widely grown by small farmers in Wales where they were processed in small local mills that have almost all now vanished. 

Anyway, I persisted, and arrived at the following process—I've done it with a small batch and I'll see how it goes with the rest. 

First I separated the chaff. On this small scale I simply removed the grain from the stalks, then rubbed it hard then blew off the husks. This left me with the grain with the inner husk attached. I put this in the blender and ground it for about 30 seconds, then put it into a tray and picked the individual grains out by hand. I can imagine that this process might have been carried out by children in the past. I think light grinding between stones would separate the grains in a similar way, but at this stage if you blow on the mixture to try to get rid of the husks you risk blowing the lot away, as the grains themselves are not heavy, so you really need to pick them out carefully.

I rolled the grains with a rolling pin, made some porridge, and ate it. It tasted just like porridge.

Whether all this has anything to do with writing children's books, I leave you to decide.

Sad news that Alan Ahlberg has died. When I was teaching 6 year olds we made a joke book for the Ahlbergs and sent it to them. Alan wrote a lovely letter back, saying he'd keep the book on a shelf and take it down to read a joke or two if he needed cheering up. I hope it worked.

Creativity and Cleese - Joan Lennon

We've all had trouble these last months getting images and videos onto Blogger, but here's another attempt! (Embedded, no less - Tech Granny, me) This speech by John Cleese on the nature and practice of creativity is a gem and worth spending 35 minutes on. If I've failed again, you can follow this link to YouTube and enjoy some wisdom, wit and insights from a ferociously intelligent human being:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvKeu46jgwo

 

Joan Lennon website

Joan Lennon Instagram

SITTING IN THE STORY GARDEN: THE 2025 SUMMER READING CHALLENGE. by Penny Dolan

With schools closing for the holidays and the 2025 Summer Reading 'Story Garden' Challenge starting up, the end of July would be a busy one at my local library, and for me too, as it happens. 

Although I know the library very well, and have picked up a lot about this scheme over the years, I had never been involved in a practical way before. This year, to help with a sudden gap in the library's summer volunteer numbers, I suddenly was.

I knew where to sit  already because, at the last Storytime,  there was a new table down in the Junior Library. It was noticeably labelled, and decorated with bright, encouraging posters, a large purple flower, pots of pens, stacks of printed sheets and more, ready for the young readers to sign up for this year's version of the summer reading scheme. 

                                           

I must add that, as I sat at that table, I felt glad a Librarian would be at the official desk on the other side of the library. Meanwhile, I did try to look confident and friendly, and as if I knew what I was doing. 

Well, I almost did, didn't I?

Earlier that week, after the last regular Storytime session, the two teenage Reading Scheme volunteers at the table had explained the process. Afterwards, I turned my scribbled notes into a neat, handwritten crib card, mentally rehearsing the registration procedure as I put the thoughts into order, reminding myself about what I  might need to remember. An official info sheet was taped to the desk but I needed to know as much as I could beforehand, to be as ready as could be.

Heavens, I even found myself a small zipped case and made a pack up with the crib card, two working pens, a blank registration card and the slightly crumpled printed leaflet. I really didn't want to put any child - or parent - off the reading challenge - or the library - or reading altogether for ever - by acting like a witless old fool. 

I made a list of the facts too. The Summer Reading Challenge is for children from four years upwards, mainly of primary age. The young readers are invited to borrow and read six books over the six weeks or so of the holidays to complete the challenge, though of course they can read more, or read 'home' or other books too and there's space for that at the back of the form. The Challenge is definitely about reading for enjoyment and leisure, not 'testing reading' and all sorts of texts included: picture books, story books, fact books, graphic novels, poetry books and more. Having only 'six titles' allows space for holiday travels and for other healthy activities, as shown by the library's special reward.

The Reading Scheme leaflet is designed around a Story Garden theme, and growing readers. Each book read earns a sticker to put in the leaflet. Two books gets two sticker and a 'seed paper' that will, wettened, sprout into tiny seedlings for a garden. Two more book earns two more stickers and a brightly coloured 'fuzzy bug'. to link withthe theme of gradens and nature. The final two books earn two more stickers - of course!- plus a shiny medal on a ribbon, a certificate and, this year, a free entry voucher for one of the local swimming pools to encourage getting out and about in a healthy way. 

Children can collect their certificates and medals, and by photographed by parents by  a special mural too, if they wish. Alternatively, some primary schools arrange September 'Reading' assemblies where pupils receive their certificates. On the card, I would note about what the children - or their parents - chose. 

                                     

No wonder I needed to get all this in order in my own head! Now, all I had to do was explain all this in as friendly and encouraging way as possible, while filling in the registration form and handing out a sheet about holiday activities in the library, not once but many times. By the end of Day One, I felt a new sympathy and respect for the library staff, going through the same often simple procedures and questions day after day after day, and yet staying focused, cheerful and approachable. 

Before long, I learned to watch for those moments when I could explain all this to several children and adults in one go, and also that it was okay to pause and clear my head now and again. I also learned, after some unusual names and whispered spellings, that it was best to let the children write and spell their own names on their leaflet, and for me to copy that spelling on to the official registration card.  But I did get through it - as did the children - and came home at the end of the sessions with my brain feeling that it had had a good workout.

                                        

Best of all  - for an author used to waiting in emptied libraries - was witnessing and experiencing the happy mood when the the children's library was busy and in full working flow. From that purple-flowered desk, I saw all sorts of people. 

I came across cheeky borrowers, brandishing the next title in an easy, popular series; solemn readers ashamed of their wriggly younger sibling; shy readers wary of face-to-face attention; reluctant readers, firmly encouraged by their parents; watchful carers helping their 'new' children to choose;.

I met children whose family language was not English; people whose wide-eyed grandchildren were visiting from other countries; several older parents and grandparents casually familiar with the whole reading scheme process; older siblings affronted by the lack of reverence showed by a younger brother or sister, and even a few first-time visitors who needed registration on the system by the librarian first.

In between, I saw children and adults colouring in at the table, friends of all ages gossiping, pregnant and nursing mums resting quietly on the seating, and toddlers playing with the wooden sensory toys. Honestly, what a privilege it was to see so many people using the library service, and to have such a joyful glimpse of the community that a local library serves. 

I only wished I could have had the illustrator Shirley Hughes sitting there, capturing some of the many 'people' moments, not outside, but inside this very library.

                                             

And, by the by, on one of the days, I even had the delight of helping a young girl borrow 'Vixen', one of my own early readers, on the lending machine.  

                                              

What a very cheering moment that was and not, as I've only just had the idea, because of any connection to the Public Lending Right.  The total pleasure of knowing for sure that someone somewhere is reading your - and your illustrator's - books.

 Penny Dolan

Grey, Baggy and Holey -- sharing a first draft Sheena Wilkinson

I like to start a new writing project at the beginning and keep on until I get to the end. I work on the principle of ‘first get it written, then get it right’. My first drafts tend to be overlong and messy, but more or less a recognisable version of the final version.

And one thing is for sure: I don’t show those first drafts to anyone. I would be mortified.

However, my current work in progress has been giving me a hard time. It’s a dual timeline, a device I like as a reader so long as it’s well done – by which I mean the stories should link, be of equal import and interest and the pacing should ensure that the reader is sorry to pause one timeline but then be immediately captured by the other one, either because you left it at such a cliffhanger, or because something in the first timeline has revealed something that makes you want to plunge back into the other one. When it’s well done, with reveals at just the right point in the narrative, it’s such a satisfying reading experience.

Turns out, though, that it’s not that easy to achieve. I’m over 70,000 words into the first draft of a dual timeline novel, set between the 1940s and 2020s, with my main characters linked by a house, and some drawings. I knew I had a good mystery, and even a twist, but I also knew that my modern timeline wasn’t pulling its weight. I was whingeing voicing my frustrations about this to a wise writer friend last week, when she generously offered to read it. 

I can’t let you see an unfinished first draft! I demurred. I would be too embarrassed. It would be like going out in public in my knickers. Grey baggy ones. With holes. 

But the wise writer friend (we’ll call her Emma, since she is in fact the insightful and generous Emma Pass) said that didn’t matter, and, since I really was in despair about how to fix it, and I didn’t think my usual strategy of just writing to the end and then editing it was going to work, I sent her the draft.

She read it quickly and said the encouraging things I needed to hear – especially that she hadn’t guessed the twist! – but agreed that the contemporary timeline needed another element. She had some suggestions, some of which chimed with my vision of the book, some of which didn’t, but – and this is why this was so helpful – in considering them, I chanced on what would work. 

The ending of this story could be that I returned to the MS today with fresh ideas, happy to be going in the right direction and not wasting any more time, but it’s more complex than that. When I looked at the progress I’d made with his book since starting it 14 months ago I could see that, more than anything else I’ve ever written, it has been interrupted many times along the way – by another book which was commissioned by a publisher and so had to take priority, and by editing two other projects for publication later this year. I've shared the relevant pages to show you just how many times the project has had to give way to something else. 

My writing is often stop-start, because of having to make money, but when I sat back and looked at this project, I realised that I had rarely had the chance for a really good run at it. I also realised that some of the 'new' ideas I'd had this weekend after talking to Emma were already there in my notes: I had just forgotten about them. No wonder it wasn’t exactly coherent. I’m sharing this to remind people of the importance of seeking help from other, trusted writers; of not being too precious about works in progress; of understanding that what we 'always' do might not always work, and of realising that we might already have had the answers all along.

And now I’m getting straight back to that manuscript. Grey, baggy and holey it might be right now, but thanks to being brave enough to expose it, and thanks to the wisdom of Emma, I know how to fix it. 

 

A Book Rec, A Spreadsheet and Some Pretty Colours by Claire Fayers

 I'm deep in edits on my first book for adults at the moment, armed with notes from my agent, a copy of Sara Grant's excellent book on editing, and a selection of coloured pens and pencils. And a spreadsheet. I do love a good spreadsheet.

When I teach writing, most people think that editing means line and copy-editing: changing word order, correcting mistakes, that kind of thing, and there are groans of dismay when I explain about structural  edits. In fact, I find this the most satisfying part of the writing process. I'm always fairly methodical when it comes to edits, unlike my first drafts which are a write-by-the-seat-of-your-pants mess. I always keep some structure templates on my spreadsheet, but Sara Grant's THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO EDITING YOUR NOVEL came out when I was a few chapters in so I thought I'd give it a go and I'm finding it a very worthwhile investment.

This is a very practical book, with lots of exercises and checklists. I already do a lot of the things listed in the book - big picture analysis, character arcs, a scene-by-scene spreadsheet with a summary of the action, POV character, word count etc, but I've found it very useful to follow through as a guide and Sara, being a children's author, includes helpful advice specific to children's books. I can see it being useful as a teaching guide as well as for my own edits.

Here's a snippet from my spreadsheet for Tapper Watson and the Quest for the Nemo Machine.

The action column is copied and pasted straight from my scene headers in Word. The easiest way to do it is to put all your headers into Header 1 style, select any of them, then go to the home tab and under 'Select' choose 'select text with similar formatting'. This will select them all and then you can copy them out. You can probably do something similar with Scrivener, though I've never got to grips with it.

In the Importance column, I make a note of the big structural points - the inciting incident, mid-point etc and make sure they fall in roughly the right places - and also the defining moments for the character plot arcs.

If you only have one POV you may not need that column. Because I use multiple POVs, when I've completed the spreadsheet I can filter by character and see how many words I have in each point of view and if I need to balance it out at all.

Timeline is a godsend because I don't write in order and I keep losing track of who did what to whom when. And of course you have to keep track of wordcounts so you can celebrate milestones with cake.

Finally, I like to see how I'm making progress because often I feel like the book isn't moving at all. A friend gave me a notebook with squared paper last birthday and I decided to colour in squares, with each square being 100 words.

Here's the start of June.

And here's today's.

That page makes me feel a lot happier about the fact that I've got another 20,000 words to go.

Happy writing!

www.clairefayers.com

Reading Lessons

I posted this in my little book review blog a few days ago, but I think it also has relevance here, in a blog about books for young people. And also because I'd just like to get the word out about a book I love.

This is an absolute joy. 

Carol Atherton has taught English for close to 30 years, and what she offers here is a beautifully written, ever-so-readable meditation on what books have always offered her; what they say about the world we live in now; and how she has attempted, in all her years of teaching, to bring the books she teaches to life for her students. 

She uses a poem by Robert Browning, and Of Mice and Men, to discuss attitudes to women and toxic masculinity. Great Expectations illustrates the power of friendship. Alan Bennett’s The History Boys looks at teaching. Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit is all about belonging, and finding the right place to belong. The Lord of the Flies… well, we probably all know about that one. That said, she does take care to mention Rutger Bregman’s Human Kind, and what that has to say about William Golding’s view of human nature.

She finds a way with every book she writes about – from Macbeth to Death of a Salesman, and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings to To Kill a Mockingbird - to say something about us all, about the power of stories to help us escape, and to connect. How they can help us make sense of the world, of ourselves, and of others.

It’s a love letter to literature and reading, and I doubt that that I’ll read anything better all year.

A children's book from 1905 - Sue Purkiss

 

Was having a bit of a tidy-up in the hut today, and I came across this children's book from 1905, which a friend gave me a while ago. The dedication in the front reads, in beautiful handwriting, with lots of curls and loops:

Rowland Edgar Weston

From his Mother

On his sixth Birthday.

So Rowland would have been about the same age as my grandparents, and will be long gone now. Still, I think he enjoyed this book - it looks well used. He's coloured in a few of the black and white pictures, very carefully. It's called Pictures and Plums, for Fingers and Thumbs. I thought you might like to see this poem, in which the narrator imagines how her life is going to pan out. Obviously, with Rowland being a boy, his expectations would have been quite different.

While I'm in the ones, I can frolic all the day;

I can laugh, I can jump, I can run about and play.

But when I'm in the tens I must get up with the lark,

And sew, and read, and practise from early morn till dark.

When I'm in the twenties, I'll be like Sister Joe;

I'll wear the sweetest dresses (and, maybe, have a beau!).

I'll go out in the evening, and wear my hair up high,

And not a girl in all the town shall be as good as I.

When I'm in the thirties, I'll be just like Mamma;

And maybe I'll be married to a splendid big Papa.

I'll cook, and bake, and mend, and mind, and grow a little fat

But Mother is so sweet and nice, I'll not object to that.

Well, life changes. Things are very different now. But it's still a charming book!