REMEMBERING A SERIOUS GAME By Penny Dolan

The academic year might be over but schools are, behind the gates, still working.
Computers & IT systems need attention, Classrooms, corridors and spaces must be cleaned, cupboards tidied, stationery re-ordered, art & craft materials topped up and library stock and book-boxes sorted out for the year ahead. All the essential practical tasks.

And the ‘niggly’ tidying has to happen too: all those random items that need to be stored, shifted or even 'moved onwards'. A bags of spare socks, mostly odd? Coloured pages magazines, with the best images removed? Tangled sports day ribbons or unwanted certificates? Irrelevant stickers? Unclaimed papier-mache sculptures? A child's gift too sentimental to take home? Oh well . . .

Old material can have an emotional weight that persists, like the old printed paper file that has been getting one last long look this week. Time for tidying over the summer here, too. Inside is a generous collection of my own particularly 'favourite poems', as once used on primary school visits. At the back, among my 'poetry info' crib sheets, was a wonderfully inspirational quote.

 The words came from the poet Pie Corbett, who has been a teacher, headteacher, lecturer & Ofsted Inspector, as well as a vocal critic of the government’s approach to testing in schools. His popular ‘Talk for Writing’ teacher training programmes influenced many schools and teachers, and he is the author of over two hundred books.

The quote I collected came from one of his earliest books: ‘Catapults & Kingfishers: Teaching Poetry In Primary Schools' which was a useful ‘how to’ book, full of ideas, poetic forms that children can enjoy and language games, and one that I worked with many times. What was clear was that, though Pie enjoyed the fun that went with writing poetry as an activity, he was also very sure about what he wanted children to experience during creative writing sessions. He did not want rote teaching or to see his advice become dull prescription. Nor did he want a silly sentimental approach. He wanted the children to feel they could play with language, that words were theirs to own and use.

What Pie Corbett wrote was this:

A SERIOUS GAME

“It is never easy to say what it is that creates an atmosphere where children write creatively, (where there is) an enjoyment of what each individual has to offer, a love of words, a rich and exciting use of language, an encouraging attitude so that children start to change their self-image, to feel that they can do it. Above all it is probably the ability of the teacher to turn the whole activity into a serious game. A game that is both fun and fulfilling. This will go a long way towards developing a love of writing and enhancing our children’s lives with a clearer expression of the true nature of themselves and their world.”

When I found this quote, printed ready for some long-ago INSET sessions, I paused in my tidying, sorting and shredding and thought for a while.

A SERIOUS GAME?

Words needed not only for the children? Maybe a reminder to me that, even in this summer’s exhausting heat, writing can be more than a trudge. A hint of playfulness, a touch of the serious game might make a more useful approach to my own writing projects. Think on't, Penny. A game of words, but a serious game indeed.

Meanwhile: Researching this post led me to Children'sPoetrySummit.com, a current, useful site about UK poetry for children, but which is linked to the work of Pie Corbett and Brian Moses and writing in schools. https://childrenspoetrysummit.com/

In particular, I'd recommend finding the page Fire Lit Eyes: Running a School Writing Club by Brian Moses for a powerful but nostalgic description of how they worked with children in schools back, as they say, 'in the day'. Seriously!

Penny Dolan 

July 2026

A witch subplot in hindsight – by Rowena House

One theme that seems to have been consistent in my ABBA posts over the past few years is how slow progress has been on Book 2, which are famously tough to write, my seventeenth-century witch trial work-in-progress proving that general point.

But...

As my characters and I approach the last two months of this being a PhD work-in-progress, I can also see how their stories came on in leaps and bounds in the past twelve months, including a scramble to finish Draft 3 of the main plot last month, hence the lack of an ABBA post from me in June. Apologies.

What changed? 

One simple answer is the end of the PhD. Who doesn’t work better with a deadline?

But the story hasn't simply ended; it has changed fundamentally from the first draft, completed in April last year when I thought the main plot was the entire story, just one with a massive hole in the middle where a woman’s story should have been, my main protagonist being a male pamphleteer. 

The feminist subplot told from a woman viewpoint arrived in a rush in June 2025 for reasons I’m analysing for the critical commentary on the novel at the moment. Some of these reasons have to do with grief, which I’m not ready to write about just yet, but as I analyse the process, I’m seeing parallels with The Goose Road, my children's debut, written with the massive benefit of the collective effort of Bath Spa’s MA in writing for young people, for which I still can’t thank everyone involved  enough. Doing this one without such support has definitely made it far harder.

The first big hurdle with The Goose Road that other people couldn't help me with was the enormity of the First World War as a subject and a feeling that I needed permission to write about it. With Book Two, the ‘witches’ story wasn’t mine to tell, either. 

Taking Wilfred Owen’s war poems with me to key WW1 locations in France gave me that sense of permission in 2014; I was honouring the past, not invading it.

Now, I wonder if it was the understanding that I think I've acquired from years of researching, writing, and thinking about witch trials that gave me permission to enter the witch suspects’ dungeon this time around.

 

 

For example, last year, when writing about finishing the first (partial) draft of Book Two, I noted:

‘The biggest creative eye-opener of finishing the full draft was an entirely unexpected release of pent-up creative thoughts which arrived in a rush AFTER I spent a week tweaking the resolution. Years of fiddling with single-sentence commercial pitches fell away, replaced by a solid plot one-liner (15 words). 

'More importantly, a character one-liner arrived out of the blue, too, which, with hindsight, I can see is the heart of the story, the universal wood hidden within the story trees. The specific character journey on which I had been fixated turned out to be a metaphor for something simpler.’

That one-liner: a young man overcomes group-think and regains his humanity. The driving force behind his change of heart: writing about flawed prosecutions forced him to think critically.

Really, that’s my story, too. 

Writing about a specific set of witch trials forced me to think critically about the how of witchcraft belief rather than dismiss it as archaic nonsense. Applying social psychology theories to my pamphleteer explained his belief system, to my satisfaction at least.

The link with the here and now therefore became the slender nature of the gap between seventeenth century mindsets and the irrationalities of our times, which seem to me to be no more than a variation on a theme. A notion which seems to have been the key to unlocking herstory (versus history). 

 

Next month, I’m booked into a remote Dartmoor inn for four nights to re-read her story to see if that creative rush still makes sense. I’m hoping her subplot won’t need more than a line edit/proof read. But then again, maybe I’m forcing myself into that position by not giving myself enough time to do much else with it. Like ruin it! We’ll see. I’ll be back from the moor in time for the next ABBA blog and will let you know how that plan worked out.


Rowena House Author on Facebook

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Link Ed In by Steve Way

 The great language teacher Michel Thomas often said that you learn a lot more about your own language when learning another. Although only semi-fluent in French, I am able to teach beginners (as my dad used to say, ‘In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king’) and often tell them that ‘most posh English comes from French’. Despite that I still feel uncomfortable saying ‘Je demande’ even though in French that merely means ‘I ask’ rather than that I’m being argumentative!

As an adjunct to Michel’s statement you could perhaps add learning more about your own language when you teach it. In my case, teaching mainly Spanish speakers, it’s made me more acutely aware of how unintuitive the pronunciation of English words is. Previously, though the habit of familiarity, it had never occurred to me that the pronunciation of the mass of words ending in -ed are never in fact pronounced as ‘Ed’, as in the abbreviation of Edward. Understandably, until I make my best effort to explain, my students ask-Ed or answer-Ed (also sounding the w) etc. Given that my teaching colleagues and I are only explaining this to a fraction of Spanish speakers, adopted English words ending in -ed also end up dedicated to Ed. Our most frequent discussions revolve around the professionals’ social media platform ‘LinkedIn’. Spanish speakers refer to it as ‘Link Ed In’.* One of my students responded to my explanation of this error by saying, “Ok Steve, I get it. It should be pronounced ‘Link-t In’ but I’ll have to carry on calling it ‘Link Ed In’ with my friends, otherwise they won’t know what I’m talking about!”

A different English term that has been changed in pronunciation by Spanish speakers is ‘WiFi’. They pronounce it as ‘wiffy’. I first discovered this from a student who was excited about going to a conference in London. “I’ll have to do some work while I’m in England,” he told me. “So when I get to the hotel, I’ll have to ask them if they’ve got a really strong wiffy!” In order to maintain cordial diplomatic relations between our two countries, I gently suggested that he didn’t do that.

Even though we state some acronyms as though they are words, such as ‘NASA’, Spanish speakers do so far more frequently. When I asked one student where he had been on holiday, he seemed to say that he had been to ‘Ossa’. Being desperately ignorant when it comes to geography, I wondered if he was referring to an eastern European city. Fortunately all became clear as he continued speaking, “Yes, we visited New York and then we went to Boston…” “Ah!” I declared. “You mean the U.S.A.” emphasising each letter. On other occasions some students talk about an important executive at the company by referring to them as the ‘See-oh’. You’ve probably deduced they were speaking about their C.E.O.

Something else interesting I’ve seen from teaching English is that it seems that the various schemes and courses used for teaching the language have certain idiosyncratic commonalities. It seems that all of them suggest that we all use one particular phrase, more or less in unison, when it begins raining. On the – increasingly rare – occasions when it’s raining on the plain or elsewhere in Spain, every student announces that, “it’s raining cats and dogs,” in the proud manner of a toddler exclaiming, “look, no stabilisers!” Now I know the phrase exists… but when did you last hear anyone using it? Also – astonishingly – the word ‘astonish’ is normally unknown to my students until I introduce them to it, which seems to indicate that for some reason this word has been excluded from all the standard courses. (I do tend to go off piste with my teaching, which is why I’ve discovered this.)

*Could that be misconstrued as ‘Link Ed in to a WhatsApp group?’ or does that could as splitting your social media sites rather than infinitives?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recently published

 

The original idea behind Reluctant Writers Resource was to provide an 'idea-a-week' to support creative writing lessons during the 38 weeks of the school year. However the concept mushroomed and the resource now provides considerably more than 38 weeks worth of ideas. The resource is divided into four sections. The 'Get the Pen Moving' section provides short, snappy ideas to help stir up the creative juices and support writers by getting words on the page, ideas include 'Nutty New Year Resolutions' and 'Silly Rules' (including those for teachers, which children seem to love writing!) The 'Standard ideas' section provides accessible, punchy ideas like 'Crazy Superheroes (and a few villains)' and 'Very Short Stories' and is followed by the 'Advanced ideas' section, providing more extended and sophisticated pieces as writers gain more confidence, including 'Letters to Aunt Agatha' (an agony aunt who receives bizarre letters from her readers) and 'Fairy-sized Fairy Tales', comically foreshortened versions of popular tales. The final section contains examples of 'Structured Stories' ranging from a series of short stories following a very distinct format to a piece (Hank Bullman rides into Certain City) clearly requiring a sequel. (What happens when he rides into Uncertain City?) Writers are encouraged to become co-authors of the structured stories and authors of increasing confidence to compose the Hank Bullman sequel.

Hardback ISBN: 979-8242528680

Paperback ISBN: 979-8241950987

Kindle ASIN: B0GF8RQ7WX    (The 0 is a zero)

Monkey and Me, by Emily Gravett, reviewed by Pippa Goodhart

 

    This isn't a new book, but it's new to me in board book form. Clever Emily Gravett, both author and illustrator, gives us a fun game that children can join-in with -

    Monkey and me,

    Monkey and me,

    Monkey and me,

    We went to see,

    We went to see some ... Turn the page

And we go from the child and her toy monkey acting out animal actions that let us guess what they are going to see this time. 

    Great fun! And we slow down at the end to leave the book and your child audience feeling suitably sleepy to make this a perfect bedtime read -

    Highly recommended. Tested on a one year old who immediately wanted to read it again.

Is post-literacy really coming? Anne Rooney

 

One of my children wanted to learn to read so that she could navigate the menus on the computer to load the game she liked (Zoombinis) and read the captions and instructions. That wouldn't be necessary now. It would be clicking on an icon and listening to the audio. Even ten years ago, when kids were already spending too much time on screens, they were still reading and writing on them. Now they watch short-form video and leave voice notes. A recent article in The Atlantic proclaimed the end of literacy.  Are we nearly there yet?

Around 2,500 years ago, Socrates (according to Plato) bemoaned the advent of literacy as corrosive to our memories: “[reading] will create forgetfulness in the learners’ souls, because they will not use their memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not remember of themselves.” He was right, but literacy, on the whole, was a good thing for society. (And we wouldn't have known what Socrate thought without it.) Literacy has been a source of power for two millennia. In societies where only a few can read, they dominate  as they control the flow of information (and misinformation). Today, audio and video communication have given that power to everyone with a smart phone. Democratising the power to spread misinformation is of doubtful value, but at least we can now all find three ways to put on our eyeliner or clear a blocked drain without the aggro of having to read. 

So far, children still have to learn to read and write, though the reading they are set becomes ever briefer and less challenging. For decades we have seen children complain that they don't need to learn arithmetic as they can use a calculator. How long before they say they don't need to read and write because everything either is or can be audio/visual? And what does that mean for children's writers and children's books? 

Picture books are rooted in oral tradition. They use word play, often rhyme, alliteration, repetition and musicality just as oral storytellers and poets have done for millennia. And to the recipient (the child) they are orally delivered, read by an adult or older sibling. Picture books are already giving children the tools they need to live in an oral culture. As authors and parents, we hope the pleasure they get from hearing picture books will prompt them to want to learn to read, to be able to repeat that pleasure whenever they want, without the assistance of a reading adult.

Many adults read very little, taking audio books, movies, TV, online video and music as their principal sources of both entertainment and information. But somone has to write all those still, at least for now. AI can produce derivative slop, but nothing wholly original, so it will all get increasingly samey as it feeds on itself (this is 'model collapse' in AI jargon). It's unlikely everyone will be content with slop so there should be some market for thoughtful creativity still. And no one can write who does not read.

But the outcome of writing is not just articulating what you think, it's working out what you think. Socrates could, no doubt, work out his thoughts using spoken language, but I don't think we could do that now — precisely because the ability to record things, either in writing or digitally, has eroded those skills we once had.  The human brain hasn't changed in 2,500 years, though. We could still develop those skills from infancy if we lived in an environment where it was necessary. And perhaps our descendants will again, after the apocalpyse when they can't read or write or have any access to digital repositories of information. For now, though, it's important to nurture the skills and pleasures of reading and writing. In the worst-case scenario, those children who grow up reading and writing when others don't will be those with power and knowledge. It's our books they will have been reading. What they read will show them how to think and suggest what they should think. We need to make our books count because the future of the world depends on them. — literally. No pressure, then.

And maybe it's time to re-read Ong's Orality and Literacy (1982)...

Anne Rooney 

website

Coming soon: Science Museum Space Annual 2027, published August 2026 

 

 

 

 

USING FOLKLORE IN MODERN CHILDREN'S STORIES by Sharon Tregenza

 I think folklore is an absolute gift to children's authors. The more I dip into it, the more wonderful stories come to light sparking ideas galore for new books.  Where else can you find so many ghosts, witches, giants and mermaids. 

Dragging these tales into the modern world is an interesting exercise in itself. Think of a giant struggling with an iphone, a mermaid having to deal with plastic pollution and a witch going viral with her TikTok dance. 

Old myths and legends feel fresh when they're transported into modern life. It also works well for creating a strong sense of place - mysterious caves, dangerous cliffs and creepy woods. All luscious stuff. 

The issues and themes haven't changed. I can look for the the greed, the courage and the kindness and they're all there. Just a twist of time here, and an update there, and before you know it you got a fun, scary story that everyone will enjoy.

* The illustrations I've used here are the artwork of Caitlin Turner. I bought these cards on my latest trip to Cornwall. I found them scary but beautiful.

Email: sharontregenza@gmail.com

www.sharontregenza.com

Members' News July

Congratulations to all Scattered Authors with books out this month. There's lots for younger children here, nicely timed for summer reading.

Animagicals: Noah's Bear, by Paula Harrison, illustrated by Erwin Madrid

Book two in Paula's magical series published by Nosy Crow, follows the adventures of children who can turn into animals.

Noah loves changing into a bear! He’s sure it’s the animal he’s destined to be. So why do his friends at Wild Haven School say he should choose something else? A mysterious magic brings a terrible storm to the land of Animagia, putting every animal in danger. Noah is determined to help. Can he stay true to himself and prove how great he can be as a bear?

Details here

Tales of the Wild: Animal Families by Alice Harman, illustrated by Becca Hall

Published by Post Wave Children's books, 9th July.

A comic book with five short stories for 5 - 7 year-olds.

In the suburbs, a red fox encourages his cubs to take their first steps towards independence. In Botswana, an elephant matriarch must trust the youngest member of the herd to find water.

This charming collection of five beautifully illustrated stories celebrates the incredible bonds between animal families as they navigate the challenges of survival in the wild. With themes of conservation, climate change and rewilding woven throughout, and non-fiction pages after every story, each tale is as educational as it is heartwarming.

Alice Harman's warm storytelling pairs perfectly with Becca Hall's adorable illustrations, making this mix of a comic book and picture book a delight for young readers.

Details here

How to Build a Human by Moria Butterfield, illustrated by Clare Elsom

Another in the Builderbot series, published by Ladybird, 2nd July.

Meet the Builderbots – the best building crew in the universe! They can build just about anything.... but can they build a human?

Take a fascinating tour through the incredible body, and discover all the things that make a human – from the weird to the wonderful!

Packed with facts about the human body – from what the tiniest bone in our body is to why we have nostril hairs – this is the perfect book for budding scientists.

Details here.

Leaving the House by Sally Nicholls, illustrated by Ellie Snowdon

The first in a new series, published by Andersen Press, 16th July.

Little bunny brothers Jackson and Harley love to create chaos and fun in the mornings, from superhero playtimes and breakfast mishaps, to wardrobe dilemmas and toothpaste trouble... and not a lot of listening to Mum and Dad. No wonder they are always late to leave the house! Will today be any different?

Details here.

Congratulations all!

If you have any news you'd like to share in the August round-up, please send the details to Claire Fayers