Talking about their books... Sue Purkiss

The thirtieth Wells Literature Festival has just finished, and how excellent it was. We went to quite a few events this year, and there was only one talk that was just a tiny bit disappointing - given by someone who was clearly relying on his ability to wing it, which almost worked, but not quite.

But the others were really excellent. Here are a few of them.

The first was Janina Ramirez, the mediaeval historian (and, it turns out, English scholar). And she was absolutely brilliant. She was bubbling with enthusiasm - even while she was waiting in the wings to be brought on and introduced, she was literally bouncing up and down and waving at the audience, as though we were all her best friends and she couldn't wait to talk to us. She was just as enthusiastic about her subject: the words came tumbling out, the arms continued to wave about, the eyes sparkled - honestly, if the National Grid could plug into her energy, we'd have nothing to worry about this winter. She had two books to publicise: one was a children's book called Goddess: 50 Goddesses, Spirits, Saints And Other Female Figures Who Have Shaped Belief, and the other was an adult book called Femina: a new history of the Middle Ages, through the women written out of it. 

Both looked and sounded fascinating. Janina was asked to write the first one - published by the British Museum - during lockdown. She admitted that she thought it first it would be easy - she'd just retell a few stories. But research is what she does, and she soon dived into seeking out less obvious stories from all over the world - and of course she couldn't really understand the stories without finding out about the culture and history of the people who had told them, and so, in short, it became a much bigger task than she had anticipated - but clearly, a very rewarding one.

As for Femina, the subtitle (see above) sets out clearly the aim of this book. As background, Janina told us about how her fascination for the Middle (and so-called Dark) Ages came about, and showed lots of slides to demonstrate how skilled these people were as artists, craftspeople and so on - and explained how women played important parts: in fact, she suggested, in terms of equality we've regressed since then. I was very pleased that one of her subjects was the wonderful Aethelflaed, daughter of Alfred the Great and Lady of the Mercians - who was a great leader, but was virtually written out of history by her brother Edward. (I wrote a children's book about her and her father, Warrior King, and became fascinated by her - had never heard of her till I started to research the book, which speaks volumes.)

Am very much looking forward to reading both of these. And seriously - if you get the chance to hear her speak, please seize it. Everyone came out of her talk with a smile on their face, and we surely need all the smiles we can get these days. She was SUCH fun!

Michael Morpurgo's talk was very different. His subject was serious: he was talking about why he has written so many books for children which concern war. He spoke eloquently and passionately about writing for children, and he speaks, of course, as someone who has not only written many much-loved books for children, but who also set up farm holidays for city children, which have benefitted thousands. He talked about the origins of Warhorse and Private Peaceful and many others, explaining how they are usually inspired by a real-life story. It wasn't all serious; he was self-deprecating and funny.

But the stand-out moment came at the end of the talk, when everyone thought the performance was finished. It wasn't. If you've seen the National Theatre production of Warhorse, you'll know that there is a folk-singer in it, who acts as a kind of one-man Greek chorus. The most famous song he sings is called 'Only Remember.' Michael, sitting in his chair, with no accompaniment and no fanfare, began to sing it, his voice steady and true. Many of us found ourselves joining in the chorus. It was one of those spell-binding moments that you sometimes get in a theatre, but which I don't remember experiencing in a festival talk before. (Just as a postscript, it struck me afterwards that he didn't actually mention the book he has recently had published. That is not at all usual at literary festivals!)

And finally to Melvyn Bragg, and his memoir of his childhood, Back in the Day. Perhaps strangely, for one who is so used to talking, it soon became clear that he didn't at all like talking about himself - people didn't do that back in the day, in the small Cumbrian town where he still has a house. Fortunately, he had writer and academic Sarah LeFanu  interviewing him, and she drew him out with consummate gentleness and skill. And so he spoke about his parents, his friends, and how happy his childhood was - though, as is the case for many of us, his teenage years were far less joyous. Yet another book I'm very much looking forward to reading.

A WEEKEND WITH GHOSTS or HINTS ON HISTORICAL FICTION by Penny Dolan

I had a wonderful time at the third Harrogate History Festival recently, an event that celebrates the reading and writing of historical fiction.  The Swan Hotel, where the long weekend takes place, is only a short walk across town from home. It is also, historically, the hotel where Agatha Christie “disappeared”.

Strangely, that's the second mention of the Queen of Mystery here this weekend, which seems spooky to me. . . (That’s enough about dear old Agatha! Ed.)

As the History Festival was about books written for adults, I felt none of that angst that sometimes seizes me during children’s book conferences. I thoroughly enjoyed being there as a simple audience member.

 

Even so, I now have a fat notebook, crammed with scribbled historical facts, and with comments about writing. As some of these seem relevant to fiction for children & young people too, I've put a few thoughts from the weekend into today's post, including some from the excellent writing workshop led by Emma Darwin and Sally O’Reilly.

- Aren’t we’re told to “write what we know”?  

We were advised that we should “Write what you want, and make the reader believe  – at least while they are  reading – that they know it.”

The topic of research came up a few times. When did you do it?  

The most common pattern seemed to be a) starting with general reading & research; b) write the crazy first draft, making notes alongside of what you now need to know; c) do the research you now know you need; d) then rewrite and revise the draft. However, several writers were keen to describe this as an ongoing, overlapping process, rather than a strict, scheduled formula.

- How do we get readers to believe in the past or, possibly, any other setting?  

Relate your writing to the senses. Using your imagination, think specifically and patiently about what you would see, hear, feel, smell and taste in that time and place, as well as any kinaesthetic feelings you would experience. Then use that sensory knowledge to add depth to your writing and build the emotional experiences of your characters.

- What is a good way into writing historical fiction?

Artefacts are very useful ways into writing about the past. During the workshop, we  imagined an object that had existed in the past; then we listed three “people” who were linked to the artefact at any time since it was made. 

This could, for example, be the maker, seller, owner, user, finder, observer or another character. Then we briefly imagined a scene where our selected item from the past was, in some way, involved, and wrote on that theme for a brief five minutes. 

Interestingly, first thing the following morning, Michael Morpurgo was speaking to a mixed group of adults and school children. 

To much delight, he walked around the crowded room, showing his "Lusitania Medal", the real object that inspired a recent book “Listen To The Moon” to the eager young audience. A fine coincidence!

Lastly, a fine point from author Andrew Taylor about the mind-set needed for writing historical fiction:

“Remember that people don’t know what’s going to happen to them: 

you have constantly to remind yourself these people are living in their present.” 

 

To accentuate Andrew's valuable point, I offer this “useful quote”, muttered somewhere during the Harrogate History Festival weekend in the "Things Not To Say" category:

“Oh when, oh when will the Thirty Years War end?”

 (No answers on postcards, thanks.)

Penny Dolan

(Emma Darwin is well known for her excellent "Itch of Writing" blog and several historical novels such as “The Alchemy of Love.” Sally 0 Reilly is a writer, editor and author of “How To Be A Writer: The Definitive Guide To Getting Published and Making A Living From Writing.” The weekend is run by Harrogate International Festivals in conjunction with the Historical Writers Association.)

Heather's Bracelet: by Sue Purkiss

Apologies if you came here today expecting to read words of wisdom from Tony Bradman - he's been unavoidably detained, so you've got me instead. And further apologies if you spot that I'm writing about something which I've already blogged about on the History Girls - this is by way of an update, and anyway probably lots of you don't regularly read the History Girls. (Though you probably should: it's awfully good.)

This is actually not about a book written for children; it's about a book written by children. It all began a couple of years ago, when a member of my writing class, Heather Redman, wrote a piece about the time she met a German prisoner of war. She was six years old, he was tall, blonde and handsome, and he had driven a group of Italian POWs from their camp near Wells to clear out the ditches, or rhynes, near Heather's home. He was an officer, so he didn't have to work himself, and he whiled away the time chatting to Heather and making bracelets out of scraps of coloured wire. Heather was thrilled when he made one specially for her: this was wartime, her family didn't have much money, and presents were in short supply.Her father was furious that she was hobnobbing with the enemy, but her mother told him smartly not to be so silly, and Heather was allowed to keep it - which she did so safely that she still has it to this day.

Heather's bracelet

Not long after Heather wrote her story, the group was asked to lend some of the pieces they had written about war to an exhibition in Wells Museum to celebrate the life of Harry Patch - up to his recent death the last surviving Tommy to have fought in the 1914-18 war. In Wells there is a group of children called the Wells Bookworms, led by the very dynamic Siobhan Goodwin. They read books, and each week post a review in the local paper. As it happened, they had recently read a book by Michael Morpurgo - Little Manfred - about a prisoner of war who made friends with a child, and so they visited the exhibition. Struck by the similarities between Heather's story and Morpurgo's, they got in touch with her. She went to meet them, and later showed them where her childhood home had been and where she had met the soldier.

Intrigued, they explored further, and they soon discovered that a number of Italian POWs stayed on after the war and married local girls - and one of them was related to one of the Bookworms. So they went to talk to him, too. And then they decided to write a book which would weave together the stories of Heather and Giuseppe and his sweetheart Sybil. So they did, just like that.

The project got the backing of the Wells Festival of Literature, which has paid for a copy of the book to be sent to every primary school in Somerset, and it has also been translated into Italian. There was a launch in September, and Heather, Giuseppe and Sybil have been interviewed on local radio and I believe will be appearing on regional TV too. The first print run has almost sold out, but more copies will be printed - it's really caught people's imagination in these parts.

At the launch - Heather is second from the left in the front row, and Giuseppe and Sybil are next to her. The children are behind them.

Heather is a remarkable lady. She's 75, but she still works part-time in a shop, and cites one of her hobbies as 'looking after old ladies'. She never expected to become a celebrity, but it's happened - and all because she loves writing, and children love a good story. Marvellous!

For more information, or to obtain a copy of the book, see www.wellsbookworms.co.uk

Magwitch and Michael Morpurgo: Sue Purkiss

At the weekend, Michael Morpurgo was on Saturday Live on Radio 4 talking about his new book, A Medal For Leroy. The novel, said Sian Williams, deals with 'war, injustice, and families leading secret lives', and Morpurgo went on to explain some of the real life stories which fed into the book.

Part of the inspiration came from the story of Lieutenant Walter Tull, an outstanding soldier who was promoted to Lieutenant during the First World War. The reason this is especially noteworthy is that Walter Tull was black: his father was from Barbados, his mother from Kent. According to regulations, it was not permitted for anyone of mixed race to be promoted - but Tull was such a good soldier that he blew that particular rule right out of the water.

So far, so interesting. But it was the unfairness of what happened next that particularly aroused Morpurgo's indignation. Tull was recommended for the Military Cross - but for unknown reasons, he never received it. Then, many years later, the Imperial War Museum wanted to put up a statue of him, but was refused permission by the local council. Morpurgo, outraged by these injustices, wanted to write about Tull's story in some way. Others had already done so; there is a television play by Kwame Kwei-Armah and a Barrington Stoke book by Michaela Morgan, entitled Respect! (2005) So a straight re-telling wasn't what was needed; nevertheless, the story of Walter needled away and demanded to be explored. I haven't read A Medal For Leroy, so I don't know exactly how he uses it - but I suspect that he used the medium of fiction to right a wrong - to see that in a sense, Tull did finally receive his medal.

One of the characters in the book is a boy growing up without a father in post-war London - as Michael Morpurgo did: and he went on to tell an extraordinary story about his own family. When Michael's father, Tony Bridge, came home after the war, he found that his wife had fallen in love with another man. He did not know his two young sons, and they didn't know him, so he generously decided to set his wife free. After the divorce, he left for Canada where he became an actor, saying that if and when his sons wanted to find him, he would make himself available to them. Divorce was rather shocking at that time: the two boys were brought up by their stepfather and took his name, and their real father was hardly spoken of.

Fast forward to an eighteen year old Michael, sitting watching the 1962 film of Great Expectations with his mother beside him on the sofa. The film reaches the terrifying moment when Magwitch, the convict, leaps out at Pip from behind a gravestone. At which point Michael's mother declares dramatically - and accurately: "Oh my God, that's your father!"

Again, without having read the book, I don't know exactly how he uses this incident, or how closely the character of the boy in the book is modelled on himself. It's an interesting business, this of how you create character. Someone has said that every character is an aspect of the writer him or herself (I can't remember who said it - I hope someone will remind me!) - presumably the basis of this is that you can never truly know another person, so you are your only resource - even if you don't realise this. Some writers will stoutly assert that they never base their characters on real people - "We're FICTION writers - we make it all up!"

I'm not sure about this. My first book was called Spook School, so you can probably imagine what it's about and what kind of story it is. Possibly my favourite character was a chain rattling, head-removing bully of a ghostly teacher called Sir Rupert - here he is, on the cover. I thought I'd made him up. Then one day I was in a school reading out a passage where he shouts at a class - and suddenly, I absolutely recognised his voice. He was none other than Sid, my old biology teacher, scourge of Ilkeston Grammar School.. He wasn't really one for the caring, sympathetic approach; if your notes weren't up to scratch, he simply scrawled a big red R over them, which meant, he told us with evil alliterative relish, ROTTEN RUBBISH - REPEAT! So I hadn't made Sir Rupert up after all - I'd just turned Sid into a ghost, popped him into a Tudor costume, and given him a few nifty little tricks to enable him to be even meaner and nastier to the unfortunates in his charge. (Spookily enough, Lynne Chapman's depiction of Sir Rupert bears an uncanny resemblance to Sid.)

Sometimes, of course, you know that, to a degree, a character is based on a real person - and this brings with it its own difficulties. The book I'm writing at present has a character who is in some sense based on my father. Note the way I hedge this notion round with qualifications. Harry Pilgrim goes through many of the experiences of the young Bob Course. He is taken prisoner before Dunkirk and spends the rest of the war in captivity; he does some things that Bob did, like making hooch out of potatoes and working in a forest and on farms. His background is the same, and he looks very similar. But Harry is not Bob. How could he be? I can guess at how Bob may have reacted to some of the situations I put Harry into, but I don't know if I've guessed right - and it doesn't actually matter whether I have or not: provided that what Harry does is true to Harry. (I only hope it is!)

Is it easier to base a character on a real person? I don't know. It's easy to use the face and figure and mannerisms of someone you've seen but don't know; then you have a cloak of verisimilitude to clothe whatever you want. But to write about someone you know - that's really not so easy. Maybe it's a way to find out that you know that person far less well than you thought you did - which may be all sorts of things: instructive, disturbing, intriguing.

I shall certainly be interested to find out what Michael Morpurgo has made out of his source material. Perhaps, in the end, what we all do is a little bit as Yeats describes in  his sad but beautiful late poem, The Circus Animals' Desertion:

                    ...Now that my ladder's gone,

I must lie down where all the ladders start,

In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

I'd question the description of the heart as a 'foul rag-and-bone shop' - he must have written that on a very bad day - but I know what he means. Would that I could express a thought - any thought - even a tiny fraction as well!

BOOKSELLER SUNDAYS: Scent of a (book) Woman, Kate Agnew at the Children’s Bookshop, Muswell Hill

The third in our new series of Sunday guest blogs by booksellers who work with children’s authors. These guest blogs are designed to show life behind the scenes of a crucial but neglected relationship – the one between a writer and a bookseller. These days, such relationships are more intense and more important, as increasing numbers of authors go on the road to promote children’s books – a goal shared by the booksellers who will contribute to this series.

The Children’s Bookshop first opened its doors nearly 38 years ago. To this day I still vividly remember my own first visit. Encouraged by a brilliant infant school teacher, I went with my mum, ostensibly in search of the latest additions to the series I was enjoying, but really, I suspect, just for a good browse. The then owner, Helen Paiba, took the time to talk to us about what I was reading, what I enjoyed, and to think about what else I might like. It was a revelatory experience for us both, and, having received some wonderful, personally tailored advice, we left clutching not just the pirate book I knew I wanted, but also an armful of books to enjoy. My mother Lesley took over the shop in 1994 while I was running Heffers Children's Bookshop. Now I work there myself, along with my sister Emily.

There are days when, if I shut my eyes and don’t stop to think too hard, some things don’t seem to have changed all that much in the intervening decades. As I open up on a Monday morning, the shop still smells of that heady new book aroma (which Karl Lagerfeld is trying to bottle!) and at least some of the books I enjoyed then are still selling today; the outside loo has grown no warmer over the years and the pillar that holds up the ceiling is still as inconvenient as it ever was. On the plus side, even in these days of ebooks and cut-price offers in other high street stores, in the specialist independent bookshop our in-depth knowledge and passion for what we do are what reign supreme. We still spend a great deal of each day enthusing about the books we love and talking to customers about just which books will be right to meet their child’s particular needs.

Meanwhile the role of authors – as readers of this blog need little reminding – has experienced one of the biggest changes in bookselling since the Children’s Bookshop first opened its doors. Our active relationship with authors is almost as obvious to customers coming into the shop today as that distinctive scent. Piles of signed stock jostle cheerfully for space with Carnegie short-listed titles, and passers-by might be forgiven for thinking that we are suffering from something of a split personality at the moment. One of our windows is draped in dark fabric, covered in gore, blood and spiders ahead of a signing with Darren Shan. The other features bright-yellow flowery trims, pastel eggs and little fluffy chicks to mark the launch of Helen Peters’ delightful first novel, The Secret Hen House Theatre.

That kind of variety, and the chance to do different and exciting things in support of the books we love and the authors who’ve supported us, are among the delights of an independent bookshop. Last month alone featured a typically vibrant blend of events involving authors and children from a wide range of backgrounds. With so many good things going on, it seems invidious to single out particular events from the mix, but perhaps readers will get a flavour if I say that they included shop signings with Nick Sharratt and Lauren St John; an extraordinary succession of scintillating talks, readings and drawing sessions with a rich range of authors in schools; an inspirational residency with Kevin Crossley-Holland and some delightful workshops with Polly Dunbar creating Dream Boat hats; as well as a family author event with the local literary and scientific institution. And among all that, we enjoyed being involved in a wonderfully individual local launch, for Sita Bramachuri’s Jasmine Skies; it took place at a deli and involved barefoot Indian dancing on the streets of Muswell Hill!

As a child, although I visited the bookshop almost every week, I don’t remember ever seeing an author there, or one coming into school. It just didn’t happen, and we didn’t know to miss it. But a few years on from that first visit to the bookshop, it seemed an extraordinary treat to meet – at a Puffin book fair in Kensington – their editor Kaye Webb. It felt such a privilege to come face to face with the woman who’d worked on so many of the books I loved, I can only imagine what it would have been like to meet a real-life author!

Except, of course, I am lucky enough not to have to imagine it: as a young bookseller in the early 90s it was an unbelievable treat to come face to face with many of my childhood idols, among them Philippa Pearce and Jill Paton Walsh, whom I met in the gardens at Hemingford Grey, home of The Children Of Green Knowe, which our book club is enjoying this month. That delight is something I often think of as I see the pleasure in young fans’ faces when they meet a favourite author. The teenage girls who baked a cake for Derek Landy; the family who brought a huge bouquet of flowers for Jacqueline Wilson; the eight-year-old who quietly handed Michael Morpurgo the story he’d written; the class who made a big biscuit bear for Mini Grey: these are some of many moments to treasure.

Now barely a week passes in which we are not involved in several different author events, and long hours are spent behind the scenes in matching the right author to the right venue at the right time. All the events we do come on top of the assorted days spent in schools with children and evenings in the bookshop with teachers talking through the variety of new books available, which in turn come on top of the ordinary days spent hand-selling in the shop. If there were only more hours in the day, more days in the week and – most of all I sometimes think – more square yards in the shop, we’d love to do even more. In a world where independent retailers are under constant threat we know it’s our relationship with authors – and their supportive publishers – alongside our in-depth knowledge and love of the books that keep customers coming back for more. We’ve recently been shortlisted for the Bookseller Children’s Independent Bookseller of the Year Award. Let’s hope the award, the specialist independent bookshops, and the smell of new, printed books are still here to be enjoyed in another four decades.

Team photo with Jacqui Wilson: Kate Agnew, Ellen Ellis, Sanchita Basu De Sarkar, Emily Agnew and Jenna Harrington.

The Children’s Bookshop website

Watch out for Independent Booksellers Week, a campaign celebrating independents on the high street, which this year takes place between 30th June and 7th July.

BOOKSELLER SUNDAYS: What greater pleasure? – Eve Griffiths at The Bookcase, Lowdham

The second in our new series of Sunday guest blogs by booksellers who work with children’s authors. These guest blogs are designed to show life behind the scenes of a crucial but neglected relationship – the one between a writer and a bookseller. These days, such relationships are more intense and more important, as increasing numbers of authors go on the road to promote children’s books – a goal shared by the booksellers who will contribute to this series.

The Bookcase is a ‘small independent bookshop with a big imagination’ situated in the village of Lowdham, eight miles north of Nottingham. The Bookcase’s proprietor is Jane Streeter (second from right), who runs the shop with a friendly team: Louise Haines, Jo Blaney, myself, Marion Turner and Kendall Turner (pictured left to right above).

Three years ago I (as one of the assistants) began a reading group at our local village school. This coincided with our 10th Annual Book Festival. So, to celebrate, I went in once a month until we had read 10 books. The 12 children read each book and then wrote a review, which formed the basis of a display at our book festival. We read all sorts – from contemporary authors to Enid Blyton and Richmal Crompton – and one poetry book. I have used a few different poetry books, but the first was Carol Ann Duffy’s The Hat, which was very timely as I’d handed it out to the children just before she was announced as the Poet Laureate! We’ve also used Gervase Phinn’s There’s an Alien in the Classroom, and others over the three years we’ve been involved in the project.


Each month I went into school so that we could have a discussion, which made the youngsters feel very grown up!


The idea became so popular that I have been approached by other schools, so this year I am working in four schools – always with Year 6 children. The group is aimed at the more able readers. (The thinking behind this is that so much is done to encourage the less able readers: those who are keen readers need some sort of outlet for their enthusiasm.)


This year, I have found a real difference in ability from one school to another. Not only is the reading ability markedly higher in one school, but the children are much more mature. This makes it harder for me to choose appropriate books, so I’m always keen to hear of the experiences of others who work with children of a similar age.


Michael Morpurgo is, of course, unfailingly popular, but I’ve also had real success with Michelle Paver’s Wolf Brother and Morris Gleitzman’s Once. In both cases, several of the children have gone on to read the sequels. We have offered a discount to reading group members who have ordered sequels.


After Christmas I will be discussing David Almond’s Skellig with two schools and Dogsbody by Diana Wynne Jones with our most able readers and Once with the fourth group.

After reading your blog, I have ordered a copy of Penny Dolan’s A Boy Called M O U S E to consider as one of next half-term’s books. With four schools to visit, I see each group once only per half-term, now. I really enjoy having one poetry book to discuss, and each member is expected to read aloud a poem of their choice. There is always one group member – usually a boy – who chooses the shortest in the book, so they then have to read a poem of my choosing!


One of the greatest joys I have experienced is a group of reading enthusiasts clamouring to tell you how much they have enjoyed a book. What greater pleasure can there be than to have introduced children to a book they love and an author they want to read again!

Please let me know of any really popular choices!

Eve Griffiths, The Bookcase

The Bookcase’s website: http://www.thebookcase.co.uk/

Watch out for Independent Booksellers Week a campaign celebrating independents on the high street, which this year takes place between 30th June and 7th July.