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
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
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
Deep into a period of procrastination – the development edit of the seventeenth century witch trial work-in-progress being totally stalled – I’ve wandered into a research rabbit hole, exploring sources of irrational beliefs.
In one particularly persuasive study, the beliefs in question are White supremacist conspiracies, but the process behind their formation seems applicable to C17th witchcraft beliefs and, no doubt, other examples of human irrationality as well.
The gist of the study, referenced below, is this: irrational beliefs based on childhood or emotional experiences feel intuitively, even viscerally true. They are later reinforced and directed by social group’s norms without us needing to think much about it.
Or, as the researchers put it: “Historically, explanations of why racist beliefs form primarily focus on social and group influences; however, our analytic model suggests that racist beliefs are also shaped by intuitive processes ... associated with physical sensations and through negative emotions such as anger and fear ... A resurgence of [the same] emotion or certain sounds and smells can rekindle an intuitive belief that formed early in a person’s life without much deliberative thought.”
This unthinking feedback mechanism “allows individuals who have limited knowledge and direct exposure to formalised racist ideology to develop highly racist judgements.”
The researchers also found that shared emotion generated in informal settings like music venues fostered group ideas about “who belongs and is ‘good’ and who does not belong and is ‘bad’.”
In other words, feelings of belonging go hand-in-hand with irrational beliefs about an imagined ‘other’.
Substitute racist beliefs with witchcraft belief, and all this dovetails [perhaps too neatly] with my protagonist’s character arc.
In the story, my protagonist’s belief that witches exist and harm others through their diabolical powers is formed during his childhood education and later legal training. This belief is at first reinforced by his experience of a mass witch trial, but then challenged by the weakness of the evidence against the accused.
Not only does the White supremacist research suggest a socio-psychological mechanism that would explain his irrational fear of witches, it also demonstrates how hard it would be for him to reject lawful, orthodox group think about their demonic powers regardless of his rational thought processes.
I have been hoping that by grounding my story more firmly in research such as this, I might be able to identify and overcome whatever unconscious hang-up is stalling the development edit. Writing this blog has, instead, highlighted my own uncertain relationship with the rational.
To explain.
Last time I blogged here in May (sorry I missed June; it was a complicated month) I repeated an idea that has been a well-spring of the WIP from the start. Witchcraft beliefs, I said, are ‘preposterous to our modern mind’. I was in a bad mood and should have known better, because to be honest, I’m not that sure C17th witchcraft beliefs were qualitatively more preposterous than some of today’s terrifying conspiracy theories.
Take the example of vaccines. The science behind vaccination is solid and their life-saving properties proven over centuries. Yet here we are, with mass measles outbreaks in the USA and in England.
Were there another Covid-style pandemic with anti-vaxxers in power, is it crazy to think that could lead to more unnecessary deaths than the tens of thousands executed during the witch crazes of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries?
Academic studies which suggest anti-vaccination beliefs are likely to be deep-rooted and socially reinforced should make us rationalist more understanding of their position: yes, science saves lives, but people have to believe that before they buy into the idea of vaccinating their kids.
Rationally, I accept that my ‘belief’ in vaccines rests upon an upbringing in a liberal country, without family pressure to conform to any religion or cult, and with training and life experience that reinforced the value I place on scientific method. People with different experiences are bound to have different beliefs to mine.
Emotionally, however, deep in my maternal core, I am horrified that parents refuse to vaccinate their children when it can save their lives or stop them suffering pain or life-long disabilities.
How could they?
Moreover, I find it hard to believe that any amount of academic research will shake this subjective judgment on them. With something as viscerally important as a child’s health and wellbeing, emotional truth trumps knowledge, even if I fight it.
Broomsticks at midnight, anyone?
Study reference:
Latif, M., Simi, P., Blee, K., & DeMichele,
M. (2023). Intuitive pathways into racist beliefs. Emotions and
Society, 5(3), 348-365. Retrieved Jul 19, 2025, from https://doi.org/10.1332/263169021X16841228834058
