Made by humans (in a podcast) - Anne Rooney

 Just a very quick post today to link to this podcast about AI that I did with the Society of Authors and others: Theo Jones, Shoo Rayner, Hannah Berry, Keith Mansfield and Roland Glasser. (I asked artguru to make a picture for this post of me making a podcast. and it couldn't. It just offered Retry. And it still couldn't. Which is a bit odd as there are plenty of photos of me online, but maybe it's learned that I only use AI in order to make fun of its efforts. Still, now I'm making fun of its failure even to make an effort. Only effort here was #madebyhumans)

If you want something a little lighter, here's OUP's book advent calendar. My contribution was filmed by MB, who is nearly 10. Video #madebysmallhuman Not in the right spirit, but you can click ahead of the day's date — which is just as well, since our contribution is on Day 24!

Anne Rooney

Out now, from Oxford Children's Books; illustrated by humans Carlina Rabei and Qu Lan

 

Raising readers — and a glass, and the dead(ish) - Anne Rooney

Hallowe'en. Rain drenching everything that moves, and everything that doesn't, drumming on the stones, the grass, the surface of puddles. Thrashing branches alternately hiding and revealing yellow lights. Looming towers with tiny windows. A ghost-infested library overlooking a sodden quad.

Yes, reader, I was at Oxford University Press. 

Outside, the new "Raise a Reader" bus stood with water streaming down its sides. 

Peering into the bus

Inside, publishers, writers and ghosts launched it on its way with blood-stained prosecco, spookily decorated cookies and cupcakes, trick-or-treat bags and a haunted tour of the Old Printer's House. 

 

 

Plenty of cakes!

 

Raise a Reader is OUP's new scheme in tandem with the National Literacy Agency "to help provide children and young people with the opportunities to become lifelong readers post-pandemic". Over three years, it aims to provide expertise, books, support and inspiration to get children reading. (Don't say — "shouldn't the govenment be doing that, not a charity and a publishing company?") The first step is a reading bus (not a Reading bus, which goes from Oxford to Reading, and only has the odd book carried by a passenger). It's really a campervan. But "reading campervan" doesn't sound quite as catchy, and also sounds as though you might be able to go on a holiday in it — which I'm sure would be lovely, but that's not on offer. 

 

Trick or treat table — easier than going
door to door

 

The bus is touring England with author events at each. Most of the dates have passed, but it's in Nottingham today (9th November), Cambridge tomorrow and London on Friday, so you might still catch it if you're quick. And the campaign will go on and on. More info on the scheme here and the campervan here. And the Reading bus here. 

We gave it a good, wet, spooky send-off, raised a glass to Raise a Reader and we didn't raise too many dead.

Anne Rooney

Out now, and just visible in the window of the bus:

Baby Polar Bear, illustrated by Qu Lan

 

The Great OUP Pig Scandal

I expect this is old news. The current affairs cycle has moved on, and the top story now is the fact that “Page 1: lies about poor people; Page 2: boring bit nobody reads; Page 3: woman in her pants” is still considered journalism in some circles.

However, before it all quietly fades from memory, I’d like to say a few words about The Great OUP Pig Scandal.

A pig, yesterday.
Image courtesy of www.publicdomainpictures.net

For those of you who didn’t catch the story - or in case it has in fact completely faded from memory already - here’s a summary. 

Early last week, during a discussion about free speech on Radio 4’s Today, presenter James Naughtie said the following:

"I’ve got a letter here which was sent out by Oxford University Press to an author doing something for young people.

“Among the things prohibited in the text that was commissioned by OUP was the following: ‘Pigs (plus anything else which could be perceived as pork’).

“Now, if a respectable publisher tied to an academic institution is saying you’ve got to write a book in which you cannot mention pigs because some people might be offended, it’s just ludicrous, it is just a joke.”

Some banned pigs, after the ban
Image from www.publicdomainpictures.net

I’ve got an awful lot of time for Mr Naughtie, especially since his unfortunate spoonerism involving the name and title of then culture secretary Jeremy Hunt. However, on this occasion he got it badly wrong.

Firstly, I don’t think it was okay for him to name-and-shame an individual publisher like this, without asking for their side of the story first. The BBC can be quite stupidly cautious about putting both sides of a story, so for it to accuse a major publisher like this without immediate right to reply is quite bizarre.

Secondly, the wording as reported above (source: Huffington Post) doesn’t make it clear that these are not guidelines for general submissions to OUP. These are commissioning guidelines for their reading schemes which are sold across 200 countries. Such guidelines are quite common within the industry, and singling OUP out is simply unfair.

Thirdly, he jumps to the conclusion that the purpose of these guidelines is to avoid causing offence. This is quite simply wrong. Their purpose is to maximise sales. You will sell fewer books to, say, Saudi Arabia if they feature pigs or pork; and not just of the particular books that mention these subjects. Sales across the entire reading scheme will be affected, because who wants to buy a bit of a reading scheme?

An OUP book that contains no pigs,
but quite a lot of badgers.

 Fourthly - and in my view - this is where Mr Naughtie got it most wrong - he selectively mentions only the guidelines that refer to pigs and pork products. And, sure, they’re there. As are for instance, if I remember correctly, guidelines that request the author to steer clear of writing about witches or dinosaurs, because these subjects will affect sales in the good old bible-believing US of A. Where’s the outcry about “censoring” authors in order to not hurt the feelings of fundamentalist Christians? Mr Naughtie should have known that singling out a ‘ban’ on pigs like this would feed the subtle islamophobia that is currently much too common in our culture.

And finally: this ‘ban’ on pigs in books commissioned by the publisher is presented as some kind of assault on free speech. Can I just point out that the principle of free speech entitles a publisher to set their own commissioning guidelines? And also that nobody is stopping any author from writing whatever the hell they want, submitting to any publisher, and - if they can’t get a deal for it - publishing it themselves on the internet?

None of this, of course, stopped opportunistic attention-seekers like MP Philip Davies from calling for government intervention; The Independent reported him as saying, “The Secretary of State needs to get a grip over this and make sure this ridiculous ban is stopped at once.” I tried to engage Mr Davies on Twitter to ask how such government intervention would work, and how he could justify calling for legislation to stop a British business being allowed control over its own commissioning guidelines; but the only reply I got from him was an approving retweet of someone else saying that Mr Davies was not politically correct in any way. I think the word ‘politically’ may have been redundant there.

I suspect the remark that sums this whole issue up best was the one by Francis Maude MP on BBC Radio 4’s Any Questions. He began:

“Well, I hadn’t heard this story, and it’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever come across.”

In other words: I know nothing about this issue and now I’m going to pontificate about how stupid these people are being.

Sadly, that’s been about the level of debate. 

_______________________________________________________________________

John Dougherty's latest books, the Stinkbomb & Ketchup-Face series, are published by OUP. They contain very few mentions of pigs, but could have lots more if he wanted them to. 

He has written reading scheme books for OUP and Harper Collins, and does not believe these books have ever been censored.

His first picture book, There's a Pig Up My Nose, will be published by Egmont next year.

For the first time in his life he phoned Any Answers last week, to talk about this issue, but didn't get on the air.

That Delicate Thing Called Confidence by Ellen Renner

I knew I shouldn't do it, but I couldn't resist. 


I don't know if I'm unusual in this respect, but I tend to avoid reading fiction when writing a first draft. Partly, I don't want to be influenced by someone else's voice or ideas, swept away into someone else's world when I need to be thinking about mine. Building a story,  breathing life into a concept and creating characters, is a treacherous process, hemmed round with dangers and pitfalls. One mis-step and a shiny idea you've cherished for months or years can turn sullen and lifeless.


Also, I already have a problem with displacement activities. I don't need the seductiveness of story to provide me with yet another excuse to avoid bum on chair/fingers on keyboard/brain switched on. (The last being by far the hardest.) And because proper thinking - really digging deep - is hard work, I find that confidence (or the lack of it) makes all the difference.


So confronting someone else's utter brilliance while struggling through the thicket of angst that is my typical first draft isn't something I find helpful. But Oxford University Press had kindly arranged for me to appear at the 2012 Hay Festival earlier this month to promote CHARMED SUMMER, the first book in a series for 8-12 girls. I spent last year writing four books about friendship and mystery on a summer island. It's been a total delight working with the team at OUP and with Working Partners on the Flip Flop Club concept. I've enjoyed the collaboration, learned a great deal, and am very proud to have been involved. The books are lovingly produced by OUP and, as I'm sole author, I'm promoting them under the psuedonym Ellen Richardson, to keep them distinct from my own books.

So here I was at Hay for the first time in my life, rather in awe and very impressed. The festival was extremely well organised and they certainly look after the 'artists' beautifully. Even the porta-loos are posh! So impressive was the whole event that I found myself surprised the weather had the temerity to rain, although monsoon might be a better description. However, on the last Saturday the rain stopped and the sun almost shone. Better yet, directly following my session, I and my son were able to trundle off to hear Philip Reeve talk about his new book, GOBLINS. Which is, of course, brilliant. As was the session. I knew it would be. I shouldn't have gone but I couldn't resist.


All indulgences must be paid for in this life it seems, and I began paying the price at once. With each delightful, clever and elegantly written extract that Mr Reeve read out, a niggling little voice in the back of my head grew louder: 'You will NEVER be able to write anything half so good. Why try? Give up now.'


I think all writers, perhaps even Mr Reeve himself, have a similar goblin inhabiting the darkest recesses of their minds. One with a nasty, whining voice which takes considerable determination (or sheer stupidity?) to ignore. I tend to avoid circumstances likely to wake mine. I've been waiting ages to read FEVER CRUMB. I'm desperate to read it. I opened the book to the first page a year ago, devoured the words on it, snapped the book shut and put it carefully away. I won't open it again until my own current project has safely made the journey to that lovely, comfortable place known as editing.


My new thing is TRIBUTE, to be published by Hot Key Books in 2013. It's a young adult fantasy. It's ambitious and big and scary and I'm right in the sticky middle of the first draft. Still floundering; still finding my feet. And it's going well. I'm excited - when I let myself be - because I know it's the best thing I've yet written. But will it be good enough? Not if I listen to my own inner goblin. I couldn't write for nearly a week upon returning from Hay, but I'm not sorry I went to hear Philip Reeve. I thoroughly enjoyed his talk and will buy the book. But I won't read it. Not just yet.

So, a question to those writers brave enough to answer. Do you have your own little goblin? Do you read other writers when writing a first draft? Or like me, do you avoid?