On Promotional Events, by Dan Metcalf

Ooh, it’s a quandary, isn’t it? Whether or not to ‘launch’ your book or let it slowly slide out into the world like a beached whale getting picked up by the tide once more? Whether to tour around flogging your wares or to concentrate on getting the next thing written and letting the stories do their own marketing?

For my most recent book, Dino Wars: Rise of the Raptors, I had thought long and hard about doing a book launch; a local cafe and caterer had offered their space but frankly my imposter syndrome kicked in and I felt unworthy to hold my own party and blow my own trumpet in this way. I’ve a few books under my belt now but I’m still very much a minnow in the world of kid’s lit, so I felt uneasy launching the book to a great fanfare – and who would come?

No, I felt more comfortable (for some reason) booking a small tour of events in the May half term where I would stand in front of complete strangers and tell jokes, read parts of my book and play silly balloon games with the assembled children. I set about finding places to hold them and soon found a few Dinosaur related venues – I live in Devon, which plays up its tourist destination of the Jurassic Coast well. Soon I had book events at the Dinosaur Museum inDorchester and Torquay's Dinosaur World. 

Dinosaur Wolrd Torquay, With Thanks to Lyn Jolly

This is where my experiences become a cautionary tale. Yes, my choice to go to dino-related venues was undoubtedly genius, (Okay, first suggested by my wife) but they bring their own challenges. Most are small affairs and have little space in which to hold events; an event in another fossil museum was a no-go due to lack of space. Dorchester had a cinema room which they were willing to hand over to me for my hour sessions, while Torquay had to clear part of their gift shop. Also, if you’re taking up space then it may affect their footfall numbers – we did the Dorchester event while still open during the day, but made the Torquay one a ticketed event for five o’clock when the venue was closed to the public. Another challenge was the fact that museums may not have the same relationships with wholesalers that a bookshop or library might have, so it was touch-and-go whether we would have enough copies to sell.

Both were well attended, largely due to the weather; it rained in Dorchester, driving families into the indoor tourist attractions, and the patchy weather coupled with it being the end of the day and parents being desperate for something to do meant that Torquay, while not packed out, was comfortably attended. Book sales were respectable – not going to bother the New York Times Bestsellers, but the venues were happy, and retained all the stock they had bought to keep in their gift shops. This means that Dino Wars is in two more places that they would have been normally, and places where children are hungry to spend their parent’s money. My evil plan to dominate the earth is coming together. Mwuh-ha-ha-haa!

Two other events in a well-known bookshop chain (beginning with W and rhyming with Porterstones) were weather-dependent – one had a handful of attendees and sales (showers), while the other, on a gloriously hot day when the entire population was at the park, pub or beach, was sloooooow. Again though, the silver lining is that stock remained and is now on the shelf in these High Street vendors, which they would not have been otherwise.

With Thanks to Claire Barker

Another event, organised by a specialist children’s bookshop and local library, had just one attendee. It was another hot day but we had fun nonetheless. I was even told afterwards that the child had only recently gone to live with them, as he was in foster care and it was the first quality time they had spent with them, which made the visit all the more worthwhile.

The half-term events? Tough to judge – I enjoyed doing them, but I’m not sure a spring-summer holiday is the best time to hold an indoor event. You live and learn.

The negligible results of my self-organised, self-promoted week of events was put into sharp contrast when just a fortnight later I was taken ‘on tour’ by my local bookshop, the splendid Crediton Community Bookshop. Arranged by the formidable Cathie, I was picked up at my house by their schools volunteer team and driven to ten schools over four days, speaking to over 800 children in years 2-5. The end of the week was topped off by a creative writing workshop in the bookshop after school for 17 children.

Results? Amazing. Cathie had a prediction (based on years of experience) that for every three children we saw, we would sell one book. This ratio worked perfectly: if I spoke to 180 children, we sold 60 books. If I spoke to 30 children, we sold 10. This didn’t quite work out at one book a child; a great deal on my Lottie Lipton Adventures saw many buying three books for £10, but we sold a handsome amount of Dino Wars too. There were a few challenges; miscommunication with the school meant that we weren’t able to stay after school as they wanted, meaning that some children may have been disappointed. This blow was softened by the bookshop handing out a £1 voucher to be used in the shop to every child. Some schools had promoted the visits more than others. Those that had talked the visit up in class and used some learning time to read my books to the children and research me (via my website) got a lot more out of the visit, and we sold a lot more books. Some children however entered the hall with looks of confusion on their faces and no money in hand – the staff insisted they had sent home an email or text to parents to inform them of my visit, but as Cathie put it, ‘Pupil pester power is the best promo tool’.

Lessons learned? Perhaps that I, as solo worker trying to write and promote at the same time, have not got the time to do it all. Visits are far more effective when a) organised and promoted properly and b) when the children have no choice but to turn up (I.E. Schools). The location of the event also has an amazing effect on how the children behave; in schools they are involved, better behaved and more interactive. In a public setting around parents they clam up and will barely say hello!

Now where did I leave that T-Rex?

This may not be news to a lot of you, but I thought it prudent that I note down these observations for myself even if not for anyone else. Anyway, aside from a couple of school visits that was my ‘launch’ event programme for Dino Wars: Rise of the Raptors. Now I can sit back until at least September, when Dino Wars 2: The Trials of Terror is released and the whole thing starts again!

Authors! What’s your experience of school visits / bookshop tours / alternative venues? What works best for you? Let me know in the comments and share with your peers!

Dan Metcalf is a children’s writer from south-west England. His latest book, Dino Wars: Rise of the Raptors is out now from Maverick Children’s Books. He is available for speaking at schools, libraries and literary festivals. See more at danmetcalf.co.uk

Top Tips for Tip Top Events - by Nicola Morgan

Lots of hard work goes into producing the best school/library* events - hard work from the author/illustrator* and hard work from the organiser. Based on hundreds of different sorts of events over the years, and after learning more from my mistakes than successes, I thought I'd put together my top tips for each side.

(*I'll just say "school" from now on but I'll mean "school or library etc" and "author" will mean "author, illustrator or storyteller" - btw, see Sarah McIntyre's excellent post about authors/illustrators.)

Top Tips for Organisers

1. Before sending the invitation: choose your author because you genuinely want that author, not just any bod with a pen; investigate their website so you know what they do; work out your budget; get relevant staff on-side.
2. In your invitation, say you'd really love to invite them and what for; ask about fees and expenses; say what you are hoping for during the day (eg two workshops for Y4 and Y5 and a ten-minute assembly slot). 
3. During the conversation, make sure you are clear about year groups, audience size, timings, etc, but be as flexible as you can. The author will know what works for her/him and you'll do no one any favours by making an author jump through hoops if that authors doesn't jump through hoops. 
4. Discuss bookselling. Some authors prefer to bring their own books to sell; others prefer you to use your normal supplier. (Note that authors earn very little per book, so this does not make much difference to income, but we like to foster bookselling, for many reasons.) Don't forget to build time into the day for this.
5. Ask the author in advance what support they need on the day: Being collected from station? Or directions. Lift/taxi back to station? //  Coffee etc on arrival? Other food during the day? Time-out?  //  Technical equipment. (Powerpoint presentations are always best sent in advance and set up ready.) Any other equipment?
6. Well before the event, brief all relevant staff and generate excitement. Relevant subject-teachers should know about the author and have read some of their works, and class or subject-teachers should brief pupils, get them excited and have them prepare interesting questions.
7. If you're having bookselling, make sure every child who wants to buy a book can. In practice this means sending a letter home and somehow making sure it gets there. There is little more upsetting for an author than carting dozens of books around, or expecting a bookseller to, and then no one buying one because a) time was not set aside b) book-selling was not advertised and c) money did not appear.
8. Always introduce the author to each audience in a positive and upbeat way. "Today we have a famous author..." is a great way to boost the spirits of an author facing a class of kids who really don't know who he/she is. It boosts the audience's spirits, too.
9. Make sure the author's books are in the libraray. It's fantastic to arrive in a school and see a display about us: could you get selected pupils to make one?
10. Follow up: for the event to have the most effect on the pupils, the following equation is the only one to go for: preparation + good event + follow-up = great event + long effect. So, get pupils to write about or respond to the event in some way. What did thy like about it? What did they learn?

In short: positivity, clarity, professionalism, preparation, detail and excitement.

Top tips for authors

1. Make sure your website is very clear about what you do and don't do.
2. When the invitation arrives, wave your crystal ball and listen to the twitchings of your finger-tips. The forewarnings of a good/bad experience are usually there. The following are good signs: the organiser has obviously read your website; the organiser knows fairly clearly what she/he wants; your fee will be adequate; they really do want you. These may be bad signs: the invitation is to "Dear Sandra," when that's not your name; they try to beat your fee down to an amount you don't feel happy with or tell you what a good promotional opportunity it will be. I don't blame a school for trying, but it suggests a lack of understanding of what we do and how we (don't) earn a living. Some great events can be run on a shoestring but enthusiasm, efficiency and respect have to be 100%.
3. Be very clear at the start exactly what you are agreeing to do and for what fee+expenses. Create a T&C document, which organisers must agree to. (Mine is on this page here - scroll down to "What to do next".) 
4. Learn from each event what you need and what makes you work most effectively. If you need a break between each event, say so. If you need to have lunch-time on your own or go for a walk, say so. If you need a ball of candy floss, don't say so - that's just annoying. 
5. Prepare perfectly and be über-organised. But always have a Plan B.
6. If you're having book-selling, check that the organiser has done the requisite sending home of letters about bringing in money. And check again. 
7. I find that the "geography" of the room makes a huge difference to how comfortable I feel and therefore how well I perform: the distance from the audience, the lectern or table, the acoustics, the position of my laptop if I'm using Powerpoint, whether teachers are pacing up and down the edges like security guards. Some of these you can't control but two things help: seeing the room beforehand, so you can adjust your table as required and stand there absorbing the vibe and imagining the event; and recognising what things make you tense and learning to breathe through them when they happen.
8. Take easy snack foods with you - my preferred ones are nuts and dried fruit. They keep for ages and are easy to snack on when blood sugar drops, either just before or just after your talk. Ideally not in the middle, as pistachio nut in teeth is not a professional look.
9. Remember that the organiser will very likely be stressed and nervous. Usually, they want everything to go well and a lot rides on it for them. A warm smile and a kind remark go a long way. 
10. If something goes wrong, whoever's fault it is, keep smiling and always be professional. Learn from it, if necessary. If it goes right, be proud - and say thank you. When an event goes well, everyone gains.

In short: positivity, clarity, professionalism, preparation, detail and excitement.

I think a lot of it comes from trying to put ourselves in each other's shoes. We need to understand what schools want and they need to understand what we can give and how to help us give it.

I love the mutual buzziness of a good school event, one where they wanted me and they knew what they wanted from me, and I worked my posterior off to give it to them. 

Thinking of asking me to come and do an event on the brain/stress for your pupils? I have a better and much cheaper idea: buy a Brain Stick™ :)

The real Summer Reading Challenge? Lari Don

Exactly a week ago, I was privileged to launch the Tesco Bank Summer Reading Challenge Scotland (I needed to take a deep breath every time I said that!) in the Mitchell Library in Glasgow. In case the title doesn’t make it clear, it’s the libraries’ Summer Reading Challenge, in Scotland, sponsored by Tesco Bank. I was also privileged to also launch the local Summer Reading Challenge in Dundee two days later.

Launching the Tesco Bank Summer Reading Challenge Scotland

This year’s theme is Mythical Maze. And there couldn’t be a better theme for me – I write collections of myths and legends, I write contemporary adventures inspired by old myths, and one of my books even has a Maze in the title.

So that’s probably why I was asked to launch this year’s theme and challenge in Scotland. (And yes, I know it seems a bit early to all of you south of the border, but we grab summer earlier up here in Scotland, so the schools are already out and the libraries are already challenging kids to read books during the holidays.)

The launches were all positive and smiley. I met kids who had done previous challenges and were keen to do it again (which was great) and I met kids who had never done it before but were keen to give it a go it this year (which was even better.) So I had hoped to post a really cheerful blog for you all about summer and reading, with these wonderful illustrations by Sarah MacIntyre.

With lovely librarian Ruth in Dundee, and a dragon behind us.

But when I posted pictures of me with posters and books and dragons and kids online last week, someone who had been involved in a campaign that I supported to keep their local library open, a campaign that sadly failed, contacted me to say, this is lovely, Lari, but what about the kids who don’t have a local library any more? 

And I didn’t have an answer. Sad face emoticons don’t really do it.

The Summer Reading Challenge brightens up and invigorates libraries all over the country and allows them to run fun family-focussed events. The different themes every year make reading relevant and exciting to lots of different children. Kids get involved, families get involved, authors get involved. It’s a brilliant scheme. Well done the Reading Agency for organising it, and Tesco Bank for supporting it in Scotland. But it can’t reach every child, because not every child has access to a library.

And perhaps that’s the real challenge for all of us.

I had intended to write a really cheerful summery sunny post for all you Awfully Big Blog fans, but the shadow over it is that even the best things we do with books can’t and don’t reach everyone. Not until we make sure every single child has access to a library.

So clearly my challenge is to get away from that dragon breathing down my neck and take up my sword again on the subject of library closures.

In the meantime, have a fun summer, losing yourself in mazes and finding new myths!

(Lari is now away polishing her sword…)

Lari Don is an occasional library campaigner, and also the award-winning author of 21 books for all ages, including a teen thriller, fantasy novels for 8 – 12s, picture books, retellings of traditional tales and novellas for reluctant readers.
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What's an author event worth? by Nicola Morgan

Many authors have real difficulty deciding what to charge for events. I sympathise. This post is designed to help and to get you thinking. And to encourage us to value what we do.

Some people say they set their fees low so that they will get more events because they need the income. That's fine. I take a different view. I also very much need the income, believe me, but my strategy is to charge a higher fee (but still usually below professional, industry rates for public-speaking), to do fewer events but generate the same income overall. (And to leave time for writing.) So, this isn't necessarily about who can afford to do what - it's about what works for you. Let's not become divisive about this. I want to empower writers to work out what will be good for them, their writing and their careers. We are all individuals. ("Yes, we are all individuals...")

Anyway, setting a fee is tricky. There is one main reason why it's so tricky: if an event is an hour long and we charge £150, for example, that looks like a very generous rate for an hour's work. But let me say this three times:

It is not an hourly rate.
It is not an hourly rate.
It is not an hourly rate.

Any hour-long school event takes far more than the hour. In fact, I worked out that, on average, each individual event takes two days of my time, including the day one which the event happens. I have blogged in more detail about this and how I decide what to charge. Moreover, the events I'm choosing nowadays tend to take much more than two days, because I'm doing bespoke brain and teenage stress events.

And that's why £150 is not enough. And that's why I usually (but not always) charge more. What I charge depends on what the school asks me to do. Usually, I offer options, so that they can find one that suits their budget. For example, here's part of an email I sent a school recently. They had said they wanted "something during the day and an evening talk for adults". Note that this involves travel from Scotland to the south of England, so there's at least one day spent travelling but not earning. And please bear in mind that these prices include the preparation time etc, so even the daily total is not the income for that one day alone.

Option A: One normal author talk during day - £225. Plus an evening talk for teachers/parents - £225. Total £450.
Option B: Two normal author talks during the day - £350. Plus evening talk for teachers/parents - £225. Total £575.
Option C: One writing workshop (up to 2 hours) OR a workshop on the brain/teenage brain/or teenage stress OR a talk to a larger audience on the brain/teenage brain/stress - £350. Plus an evening talk for teachers - £225. Total £575. (By "talk" I mean more like a lecture with Q&A, but not workshop activities.)
Option D: One writing workshop OR one brain talk for large audience with Q&A OR one brain/stress workshop for a smaller group - £350. Plus one normal author talk OR a repetition of the first workshop/talk - £175. Plus an evening talk for teachers - £225. Total £750

Note that one talk during the day is relatively more expensive than two. That's because two talks don't take twice as much time as one. If I'm away doing events, I'd rather do more than one a day, so my fee structure works for that. 

Even if they take Option D, that £750 probably has to cover four days, as the preparation will be major. So, it may sound like a lot, but it isn't when you realise how many hours of work it is.

So, I'm still not quite being paid along the lines of a "Lead Practitioner" (see below), but I charge more for keynote speeches at conferences, and sometimes schools take more expensive options, so it averages out to a fee level I can manage. I wish I could afford to do cheap events, but I just can't - or I'd have to do so many that I'd have no time for writing and, I feel, the quality of my events would suffer.

Last time I did a free event, by the way, was for a charity - one I don't support. I discovered there was an audience of over a thousand, each paying £30-£40. I'd spent three days on that. Never again. Sorry.

Society of Authors rates? There is no such thing. Competition laws prevent the SoA from providing such guidelines any more. See here for the current wording. Any rates that people keep quoting as "SoA rates" were historical and are out-of-date. 

I think this quote from the SoA page is particularly useful: "Authors may wish to base their fee, for either single visits or longer residencies, pro rata, on the annual salary they would expect to earn. See Andrew Bibby’s reckoner, which shows daily rates to equate with different salaries. Authors delivering schools events may be interested that the NASUWT 2013 salaries for Lead Practitioners (excluding London and the Fringe) are between £37,836 - £57,520."

Thus, supposing you equated your "value" with that of a "Lead Practitioner" in the teaching profession and imagined yourself on a (dream!) salary of £40k, which is to the lower end of that scale, you'd need to charge a daily rate of £427 - and, in theory, you should build in the preparation and travelling time, too, so you would need to charge more than £427 for the day of the school visits. Remember, too, that people on salaries have sick pay and pensions built in.

Alan Gibbons, in his Campaign for the Book, mentions £450 a day. Campaigning for books incorporates campaigning for libraries and for authors, because without authors there are no books. He told me that he believes we should all consider the following principles, and I agree:

1) "Authors need a sense of a minimum market fee." (You might note the fact that Scottish Book Trust have, since 2005, paid £150 per talk for their funded events, and this is widely used as a basic minimum in Scotland. So, three talks in one day = £450, plus all expenses. Many authors charge more.)

2) "They are providing a service that merits payment." (Yes, not just because of the time involved, which is far more than the hours in front of the audience, but also because a writer's expertise is built up over many years and is valuable.)

3) "More experienced writers owe it to those starting out to set a principle that an author visit is paid work." 

4) "They should be paid a fee, accommodation and travel if necessary." 

5) "They are free to do pro bono events for specific reasons but the previous four considerations should generally apply." (Of course, every author is entitled to do a free event, perhaps as a loss leader, or because of a personal connection with the school, but the organiser really ought to understand that you are in effect giving up your income, and will likely be the only unpaid adult there.)

And I would add a sixth: "A fee is not an hourly rate."

Yes, I worry very much about stretched school budgets, believe me, but funding an event shouldn't start by underpaying an author, who is almost certainly earning painfully little from writing. Everyone is stretched - schools, parents, but authors, too. Yes, I worry that some schools will feel they can't afford an author visit but that has always been the case, I'm afraid, and there are creative ways to fund things. The value of a good event by a talented author/illustrator/speaker is enormous and long-lasting, going way beyond what happens on the day. I worry about schools that don't recognise that, focusing only on that hour and thinking that the hour cost them £150 (or whatever).

But I worry more about us selling ourselves short, suffering because we are uncomfortable about charging what we are worth. I've done it myself - I know how hard it is not to, when we want to say yes, we need the work, we enjoy the events and we like the school which is inviting us. I worry when an author tells me that by the time she got home from a long distance event her fee had been consumed by the travel and subsistence costs because she didn't feel able to charge expenses. I worry about authors being the lowest paid adult at the event. I worry about festivals, such as Cheltenham, asking authors if they'd like to donate their fee back, when they haven't asked the electricians, sound engineers, publicity people, printers, booksellers etc to do the same. I worry about people thinking authors are not worth being paid fairly. I worry about authors not thinking authors are worth being paid fairly.

I worry that if we don't value ourselves, no one else will.

Author events from the other side - by Nicola Morgan

No, not visits from dead authors. I mean seeing author events from the other side, the side that's not the author's side. And not from the audience's side, either. From the event organiser's side.

I was thinking this the other day, after writing another blog post about organising author events, which was aimed at organisers. It struck me that sometimes we - the people giving the talk - spend a lot of time working to make sure that the audience has a beneficial experience and also a fair amount of time afterwards fretting about whether we've been given coffee, treated well, introduced properly, paid sufficiently, respected. Those things - how well we prepare and how well we are looked after - are very important to the overall experience of not just us, but our audience, because if we are relaxed and positive we are likely to do a better job. But they are far from the whole story and we may have become blind to something else important and useful.

How about we walk a mile in the shoes of the event organiser? I'm not talking about stealing their shoes, though if they were gorgeous I might well be tempted. I'm talking about looking inside their heads, properly, sympathetically, and then using what we find there to help create a really good event, one that is not only great for the audience and us but great for the person who bridges the void between the audience and us, person who can make a real difference: the organiser. Because just as the event is better when I'm happy, the event is better when the organiser is happy, too.

Let's call the event organiser Mary. (This is not code for "I'm thinking of an actual person called Mary but let's pretend I'm not." As far as I can remember I don't know a Mary who has ever organised an event for me. It's just a name, and a very nice one.)

Mary may be nervous about meeting us. This is apparent from phrases we often hear Mary use when introducing us to people, such as "real live author" or "famous author", or from her high-pitched laugh or her exasperated voice as she tells a group of kids, "I told you five times that the library would be closed at lunch-time - we have an  author visit." To Mary, we are not just a stranger, we are a stranger who has been dominating her emails/work/life for a few weeks or months; we are a stranger who may be strange - and often are; we are a stranger who may wreck her day and reputation by delivering a bad event; we are a stranger whose services take up some of her department's precious money; we are a stranger who may actually be "famous"; we are a stranger who may be judging her and leaping to wrong conclusions about her.

Mary's nerves may also be apparent from the fact that she forgets to introduce us, or introduces us badly, or says, "This is Nicola Morgan, who needs no introduction." She may genuinely think I need no introduction. I do very need one, because without one I feel inadequate, but Mary doesn't know that. She just wants to get the hell off the stage and back into the audience. I had one organiser once who was so nervous that she forgot my name entirely, at the very moment when she said, "I'd like to welcome..."

Mary has other things to do than my event. My event is not actually the most important thing in her life. It may well be the most important thing of that week, possibly even longer, but it's not the only thing she's worrying about.

Mary has no idea what I'm feeling. She has never had to "perform" in front of a large audience of 14year-old strangers. She probably thinks, if she thinks about it at all, that because I've done it for years I am totally relaxed. She would almost be right, but it's that "almost" that's crucial. She certainly doesn't know that there are several innocent things she can do which will topple my equilibrium. Years ago, before I was published, I had to organise an author visit to my daughters' school. I'm cringing as I think about how little I understood what those "famous" authors were thinking or how cack-handedly I treated them, but I know that I was wrapped up in my own stress.

Mary is worried that she might have forgotten something. She's made a huge list on the back of her repeat prescription form, but, although she knows she's done everything on the list, apart from order her repeat prescription, she's still worried she might have forgotten to put something on the list in the first place. Which is worrying.

She is also worried that George is going to do his mad-March-hare-crazy misbehaving thing again and she is particularly worried because she's just noticed that George is sitting next to Michael, which she'd expressly asked the teachers to make sure didn't happen, not least because Michael is supposed to be leaving early for his anger management class.

She is not only worried: she is also excited. She has a lot invested in this day. She had to bid for the funding and she's going to have to justify the outcomes. She really wants it to go well. She wants the pupils to be inspired by the talk, library borrowings and reading interest to rise in the ensuing weeks, the teachers to feel it was worthwhile and me to be happy and impressed with the school, the pupils and the library and...and...she's studying my face as I arrive and I'm looking a bit tense and now she's worried that I've just had the experience of walking through the foyer while Year 9 were stampeding to lunch. Or meeting Shannon and Donna from Year 10, who she's pretty sure are waiting outside the Head's office. Because they often are.

So, Mary is nervous, worried and excited and that's a recipe for things not to be completely perfect.

How can we, the authors, help Mary and therefore help ourselves? In my view, it's simple, as soon as weve have recognised what Mary's shoes feel like to walk in. Here are my five tips:

1. Prepare Mary. Make sure that she knows exactly what we need, in advance. In my case, these needs are on my website, on the page which I have asked her to read, and can be summed up as follows: a) she (or someone) will give me an introduction which makes the kids feel they are going to have a great event b) the kids will have been prepared and at least some will have looked at my website and thought about questions c) a few minutes of peace and quiet just before an event and between events. That's all. If Mary knows that, she can stop a whole load of her worrying.

2. Remind Mary. Mary may have forgotten everything in point 1 above, so remind her a couple of days before the event.

3. Forgive Mary. Because you have walked in her shoes and noticed that they are a bit leaky in wet weather and not really as comfortable as they could be. Especially the bit pressing on the toe that the pile of books fell on last week.

4. Smile at Mary. Smile at everybody you meet, even George and Michael and Shannon and Donna. Smile when you arrive. Smile when you shake Mary's hand. Smile as you walk with her to the library and after she's told the kids yet again that the library is closed because there's an author visit. As the well-known saying almost goes: "Smile and Mary will smile with you." And then everything will be all right and, if it isn't, smile anyway.

I honestly think point 4 is far more important than we might think. It's about first impressions, chemistry, putting people at ease. You're a bit anxious, but Mary is more anxious; take control of the situation; don't be a victim of Mary's anxiety or your own - cure it with a smile. Even if Year 9 did stampede all over you on their way to lunch and you met George on a mad March hare crazy day and Michael when he'd forgotten his medication and Shannon and Donna when they were just being Shannon and Donna. George, Michael, Shannon and Donna are probably nervous, too. And Mary. Besides you get to go home and not come back; they don't.

And you have chocolate in your bag. Because that's the fifth tip: Have chocolate in your bag.

You could even share it with Mary.

THANK YOU, FCBG - Emma Barnes

The sun was streaming down when I arrived at Harrogate library, and I feared all my punters would have decamped to the Valley Gardens. But no: every seat was taken in the lovely events room.

I was there to talk about my latest book, and I was welcomed by a very keen group of child readers. Some of them had already researched the book; others asked penetrating questions about my own childhood reading: “Which Narnia book is your second favourite in the series?” They all did extremely well on my Rascals and Tearaways In Children’s Literature Quiz (sample question: Who was it that sailed away to where the wild things live?) We shared writing tips, the parents chuckled amiably, the powerpoint worked, my tea was hot and sweet...



This lovely event was part-hosted by the Harrogate Children’s Book Group – part of the Federation of Children’s Book Groups (FCBG). This in itself gave me a warm feeling – for when I was an unpublished writer, and knew no other writers, and very few adults interested in children’s books, the FCBG was very important to me.



The FCBG is, as its name suggests, a federation of local groups. Some run author events, others discussion groups for adults: all of them foster a love of children’s books. They come together at their Annual Conference, publish a magazine Carousel , and also run the Red House Children’s Book Award, the first Book Prize to be awarded on the basis of what children themselves actually think about the books. Its child judges early recognised the quality of authors like Anthony Horowitz and JK Rowling, who went on to become household names.

The FCBG was founded 40 years ago by Anne Wood, whose deep interest in children’s later led to ground-breaking children’s TV, like Teletubbies. (To learn more of her story, listen to her recent appearance on Desert Island Discs). At that time, her main interest was as a parent – and I suspect parents still make up the bulk of the FCBG’s members.

I initially joined FCBG as an individual member, because there were no local groups close by – which at least meant I could get Carousel magazine, read the interviews and the reviews, and feel in some small way part of the world of children’s books. Later a group started close enough for me to get involved. We hosted events with authors such as Chris de Lacey and Jonathan Stroud, and I even helped out at a Jacqueline Wilson event: she wasn’t yet Laureate but she was already Royalty in the Children’s Literature world, with a stunning frock and feather boa, oodles of charm, and a whole team of minders to manage her queues of fans.


Through the FCBG I met other aspiring writers, and I got to attend the Annual Conference: three days of talks and workshops, of sitting up too late, and eating too much, while endlessly discussing our favourite topics: books, books and more books!

Life moved on, and for a while I was no longer directly involved in the FCBG. But that is something I have now put right. I have renewed my membership, and will be going along to events as and when I can. With libraries and independent bookshops under threat (as the last two ABBA posts point out) a network of people eager to sustain and nurture a deep interest in children’s books, and to find and celebrate the very best of them, is more important than ever before.

Long live the FCBG!

- On the 2nd December the FCBG was awarded an Eleanor Farjeon Award for its “outstanding contribution to the world of children's books”. Congratulations FCBG!

- check out Emma Barnes’s web-site
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- Emma’s latest book for children is How Not To Make Bad Children Good