If ‘favourite story from the year’ means ‘book that came out in 2011’ then I’d have to agree with Conrad: Moon Pie is an excellent read, touching and funny and sad. It does that trick of following a harrowing series of events through the eyes of a child who does not fully understand what is happening to her family. The reader (who is allowed to get it just a bit before the child) watches first with a feeling of helplessness as the child makes her discovery, and then in awe at the natural human courage with which she faces it. And I can say that without fear or favour because Simon’s not my editor.

But Tilda lets us roam more widely. ‘Books, films, news stories and all,‘ she says, and so begs the very large and interesting question of what really is a story, and what isn’t. Because when you start to look at it, pretty well everything’s a story in one way or another. Stories are the way we make sense of our world. We take our perceptions and fit them into a pattern. That’s a story.

(I say ‘sense’, but I don’t necessarily mean sense. Tony’s story of the invasion of sheep reminded me of a story my Dad used to tell us on long car journeys, which began with an invasion of ferocious steel-woolled sheep from Mars who were paranoid about a prophecy that they would Get Knitted. It made no sense at all but it was a very funny story.)

Of all the stories, fact and fiction, that came my way in 2011 I’d have to pick the one about the News of the World. Not through Schadenfreude but because of its shape. Read the rest of this entry »

One of the nicest things about being an author is that for some reason it seems to give you license to get in touch with other writers and say hello. Or maybe I just think it does. Anyway, that’s how I became friends with Ben Johncock; writer, Guardian journalist, hilarious tweeter, Literary Death Match Pugilist and fellow resident of darkest Suffolk.

So I was quite excited when the DFB blog asked me to write about my favourite short story of the year, because Ben had written it. And you don’t need to worry about personal bias either, well, not too much: look it got a lovely review from the venerable Scott Pack (who likes the Isle of Wight so he must be a man of taste, no bias there either).

Like all my favourite writing, the ideas The Rocket Man played with stayed in my thoughts long after I’d read it. Because in this story the sun is dying: these are mankind’s last days on earth.

It’s a haunting premise with good pacing right up to the ‘exquisite reveal’ that Scott quite rightly pinpointed. And it has an ending that leaves you shivering slightly and running to give your children a cuddle. The writing style is lovely too. It reminded me, in this instance, a little of John Wyndham. But whether you agree with that or not, Ben always has a very elegant way of putting things.

Now, this is technically a short story for grown ups, literary fiction no less, told through the eyes of a child. But I have a bit of a thing about not getting hung up on categories. The library I went to when I was growing up wasn’t very big, so I learnt to like an alarming range of things from Hardy, through books about engineering to Daphne du Maurier, which I don’t think did me any noticeable harm [cue nervous tick]. Read the rest of this entry »

Well I said I’d do a blog over Xmas and I’ve left it a bit late so I’m feeling a bit sheepish about that. Apt, really, as this blog is about sheep. Yes, the real ones, the woolly bleaters. 

This autumn just gone I was up on a High Fell Farm in Cumberland, the Lake District. I’d gone there with my wife for a couple of week’s walking. Good for the back, good for the mind, the spirit, the whatnot…. etc. Generally good. Healthy. Wholesome. Hearty. You name it. 

The story I’m going to tell is less of a story and more of an amusing or surreal anecdote. I dote on anecdotes, as you may know. I am the ultimate anec-doter, you could say. Though you may prefer not to. No hard feelings. 

Well, the missus and me were warmly and drily ensconced in our rustic cot (cottage to the uninstructed). The weather those weeks was wet. You can’t get more alliterative than that and you couldn’t get wetter than we’d been on our wild, wet walks. Webbing was growing between our toes. Moss was forming in places I couldn’t mention in a children’s book zone. 

But, for the moment, we were in the dry, warm cottage and I was sitting in an armchair by the fire, gazing out at the gauze of rain drifting up in swathes from the bottom of the valley and past the farmyard to the High Fells. 

Suddenly I was interrupted from my Wordsworthian revery by a thundering sound from the steep slope behind me. I should have mentioned that the back of the cottage er….. backed onto (the very phrase!) a steep fellside (hillside to the uninitiated), so that the view from that window was less of a landscape or skyscape as a ‘grassscape’ (how many ‘s’ s in that, eh?). 

For a stomach churning moment I thought, “Avalanche! This is IT. End of life about to happen! Won’t have to cure my bad back after all….. Can I embrace death with a willing and positive spirit….? Read the rest of this entry »

 Anything new by Aidan Chambers is always a treat, so I was delighted to be sent a new collection of short stories, and honoured to find myself quoted on the back cover: “Chambers is a searching, provocative, fiercely intelligent writer.”  I think that comes from a review of what remains my favourite of his novels, THE TOLL BRIDGE.

I found it fascinating to see several of Aidan Chambers’ preoccupations appearing here in shorter form: frustration for the questioning son of well-meaning but dim-witted parents, sexual ambivalence, the search for meaning in life, and toska, described by Nabokov, the almost pleasurable pain of yearning for something unidentifiable.

Some of the stories are of conventional length, while others are “flash fictions”, snatches of conversation, sometimes represented as play-script.  For me, the most satisfying story is “A Handful of Wheat”, a moving account by the teenage Chambers of his grandfather’s death, showing a prodigious early talent, and also, surely, the influence of D H Lawrence – I’ve often heard Chambers mention “Sons and Lovers” as one of his formative books.

In 2012, readers can look forward to “This is not Forgiveness”, by the always-reliable Celia Rees, another deservedly acclaimed writer for young adults. Read the rest of this entry »

Recently, a news story concerning the unearthing of a witch’s cottage caught my eye.

According to reports, it was clearly a witch’s cottage because it had a mummified cat bricked up in the walls, and was found in Pendle, the scene of a notorious outbreak of maleficence in the early 17th century. Ten people were hanged as witches due to a tragic tangle of religious intolerance, familial rivalry and superstition.
Whether or not this particular dwelling played host to all manner of frightful witchery will be doubtless be pondered upon by historians and people (like me) with over-active imaginations. I’ve always loved old buildings – they act as a focal point for history and legends; they are like batteries generating stories, some down-to-earth and some fanciful. Read the rest of this entry »

First off, I’d like to make it clear that I am not going to mention my wonderful editor Simon Mason’s book MOON PIE, so as to avoid coming across as some kind of desperately sycophantic teacher’s pet. I am not going to tell you that it’s a moving story about a girl’s struggle to cope with her alcoholic father, which somehow manages to be funny at the same time. I just won’t do it. So with that out of the way…

This year I’ve read a lot of fantastic children’s books set in the present day. Among my favourites was A MONSTER CALLS by Patrick Ness & Siobhan Dowd - a cleverly constructed story which walks the line between fantasy and reality. It’s hard to say much more about it without spoiling the story – so I won’t.

I also loved Cat Clarke’s new book TORN Read the rest of this entry »

In the short pause between last-minute online shopping and the scoffing of mince pies, you might well find yourself – at this time of year -  reflecting on 2011 and anticipating much to come in the new year.  Over the next few weeks, our DFB writers and illustrators will take it in turns to share some of their favourite stories with us from this year – books, films, news stories and all - as well as tipping us off on treats to come in 2012..

(You may even find tips for some of those last minute Christmas pressies..)

Enjoy the holidays – and click below for a  little treat from all of us at DFB..

David, Bella, Simon, Hannah, Kirsten and Tilda.

When I finished writing The Outlaw Varjak Paw, I knew very little about my next book.  I was sure of only two things.  First, it would not be a Varjak Paw book; I wanted to do something completely different.  Second, I had an idea for a story about someone who goes on an epic journey to the end of the world.  But I had no idea who this person would be, or what it would feel like to do such a thing.

While writing my books, I’d also been working as a film journalist.  My favourite film of all time is Atanarjuat The Fast Runner.  That incredible image above is a still from it, and believe me, the film is even better than the still!  It was made in 2001 in the Canadian Arctic by Inuit film-makers, based on oral legends thousands of years of old, and it completely blew me away.  I got to know the makers when I interviewed them, and they kindly invited me to visit them the next time they made a film.

So in 2005, just after finishing Outlaw, I went up to the Arctic.  Specifically to a place called Igloolik, on the edge of the frozen sea, in the Baffin Island region of Canada.  That’s where they live, and I stayed with them while they shot their second film, The Journals Of Knud Rasmussen.

Read the rest of this entry »

When I saw that the theme for this month was Things we’ve been through in the process of writing our books  my heart sank slightly, I have to admit. Because the honest truth is, I don’t do anything remotely exciting or adventurous in the pursuit of a good story.

I’d have loved to give you an account of a trip up the Amazon or a week in Asia minor or living with down and outs in a squat in Baltimore but alas, they’re all impossible for one reason or another. The Amazon, and indeed anywhere at all jungly, is out of the question. Merely READING about such places produces violent conniptions. Though, on the plus side of jungly, I did live for many years in the tropics and have even written about those days in OTHER ECHOES. It wasn’t anything like the Amazon but we did have to look in our shoes every morning before we put them on to check that scorpions hadn’t taken up residence in the sweaty footwear overnight. I shudder even remembering it now but when I was nine or so, it was just part of the daily routine. Growing up has made me more of a wimp than I was then, which is saying something.

The truth of the matter is: I like staying home. I love reading books. You can gather a great deal of information about various parts of the world simply through consulting books and looking on Google images. When I say I like staying home, I am always up for visiting  a beautiful part of the world and  staying in a posh hotel: don’t get me wrong. But I don’t fly these days (though I did as a child: see above and growing less brave as you get older) and so I’m a bit limited in my destinations. Thus, I can’t go and do first hand research on that squat in Baltimore or the deserts of Asia Minor. Not that I’d particularly fancy it. On the other hand,  if someone would like to commission a novel set in the Ritz, I’m your woman.

But, as the saying goes, if you’re given lemons you must make lemonade.  Read the rest of this entry »

I was a bit daunted when I read that the topic of this new round of blogs was to be an experience had, or some research  done, in order to write about it. Research? Blimey, I thought. That sounds a bit serious for the sort of books I write! Then, thinking more closely, I realized that I do sort of research my books, even if it’s on quite a superficial level. I am often getting to a point in a story when I realize I have strayed into an area I know little about, or I get halfway through an illustration before I wonder what the thing I’m drawing really looks like!

Then, it’s a trawl along my bookshelves or, more frequently now, a session on the internet that can supply me with visual reference, (sometimes dubious) historical facts, or just a feel for a place or people.
When I wrote about Jakeman’s Patented Steam-powered Rhinoceros in Charlie Small’s first adventure, Gorilla City, I had the image of Durer’s famous woodcut of a rhino at the back of my mind. I had always admired this anatomically inaccurate beast (Durer never actually saw a rhinoceros) and when I came to illustrate my mechanical rhino, I used his incredible drawing as reference.

Read the rest of this entry »