superhero

Hilo: The Boy Who Crashed to Earth by Judd Winick

When I was twelve years old a new English teacher started at my school. She was young and glamorous, and I wanted very much to impress her, especially as she taught my favourite subject. Then, one day she handed out our homework assignment on the text we were studying – Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. She wanted us to depict a scene in a comic strip. I was devastated. Drawing wasn’t literature, I thought. My level of drawing barely matched Wimpy Kid levels, my love for my teacher plummeted as swiftly as Sir Toby descends into revelry. The effort I put in matched my grade. Low.

But it remains one of the Shakespeare plays I best remember. The cross-garters (easy to depict visually), the gender disguises, the triumphant reuniting of the twins. And perhaps that was to do with having to try to make a visual representation.

One of the ways in which the children in my library club best engage with the books I’m reading to them is if we use the books as inspiration to discuss and draw the contents. We may do craft, or create our own story, or redesign covers, or simply draw our feelings.

Hilo: The Boy Who Crashed to Earth is a series of comics presented in paperback book format. In fact, the publisher very kindly sent me the first three, which I devoured with glee, chortling nonstop. Hilo comes crashing down from the sky, clad only in silver underpants, and has no idea where he comes from, or what he’s doing on Earth.

DJ, a normal kid from an overachieving family, and his friend Gina, try to figure out where Hilo comes from, and by the end of the book, how to fight robots in order to save the world!

The comic is fast-paced – action leaps from frame to frame, but the book goes much deeper than that. DJ has pretty low self-esteem, believing that he lacks the skillsets he sees in his siblings. With the friendship of Hilo and Gina, he grows in confidence, and finds out what it takes to be a real hero.

Winick evokes great humour in his portrayal of Hilo, who has no idea what food and clothing are for, and yet absorbs new information at a startling rate. He introduces catchphrases for the friends, and references other comics and movies.

The books are bright and bold – the colour screams from the page, and the characters are wonderfully empathetic and emotive in their depictions.

There’s long been, and still is, a snobbery about comics, and yet by using them for readers who don’t want to be confronted with a large chunk of text, comics can easily imbue children with great storytelling skills.

One of the great things about comics is that they explore the angle of a scene – like assessing the point of view. The reader can explore each individual picture to see why the illustrator has drawn it in that way – what is shown in this scene, what is not – where is the ‘camera’ looking from, is it a close-up? The language has been carefully selected – after all there’s only so much the author can fit into each square – why did he chose those particular words? And more than that, what is the narrative stream between the different frames? – the connectivity of panels relates to the connectivity of sentences in a narrative text.

With a diverse cast, a cliffhanger ending, and a message of friendship, loyalty and bravery, this is a great new series. For 8+ years. Discover it here.

Mothers in Modern Children’s Books

In a great deal of children’s fiction, mothers are either dead, disappeared or distant. As a mother myself, that’s always a little frustrating – although I realise that the reason my children haven’t discovered a Magic Faraway Tree in the garden, escaped to another world through the wardrobe, or fallen down a rabbit hole is because I’m always there, beating on the door, interrupting every scene, making a nuisance of myself with my rules and fussiness.

The following children’s books all feature mothers very kindly – in one even pointing to the fact that they are superheroes – so for mother’s day, I’m celebrating the mothers who feature, rather than fade into the background.

the paper dolls

The Paper Dolls by Julia Donaldson, illustrated by Rebecca Cobb
One of the slightly lesser known Julia Donaldson stories, this is a nostalgic ride through childhood, describing the craft activity of a small girl, and her memories of it as she grows. The mother, first labelled as ‘nice’ in the text, is portrayed with more empathy in the pictures – the reader sees her on her knees beside her daughter with a cup of tea in hand. She looks on fondly at her daughter colouring in the paper dolls. She has clearly helped to make them.

The mother disappears as the girl takes her dolls away to play, but returns to join in the make-believe at the breakfast table – donning a crocodile puppet. Unfortunately she can’t rescue her daughter’s paper dolls when a nasty boy comes to snip them to pieces. The little girl then grows into a mum herself:

“And the girl grew…into a mother”, my favourite illustrations portraying the child growing from holding a book to holding a baby – and then

“who helped her own little girl make some paper dolls”, this time at the table, but mimicking the former picture, with similar props.

The text doesn’t rhyme, as in many favourite Donaldson titles, but there is a superb sing-song rhythm to the story, which a reader can’t help but pronounce as its read aloud.

Of course I’ve picked it for the depiction of a mother who plays with her child, but actually the story is about loss – the fluidity of time, the memories of things now long gone, including people, and the inherited culture that continues from one generation to the next. Because after all, as mothers, we’re teaching children about our heritage, and giving them tools to manage and enjoy their future. Purchase it here.

polly and puffin

Polly and the Puffin: The Stormy Day by Jenny Colgan, illustrated by Thomas Docherty
Just published, this is a book that captures the relationship between mother and child in a few simple words, and with just a few pages evokes real emotion in the reader.

Polly and the Puffin: The Stormy Day is the second in the series. Polly is waiting for her father to come home in his boat, but the waiting is difficult, and even harder when it’s raining outside and a storm makes her feel anxious. With beautiful two-colour illustrations throughout, shades of orange and grey creating the perfect mix between a child’s outlook and the approach of a grey storm.

Of course, her puffin, Neil, features heavily in this series of books about the friendship between the girl and the rescued puffin – and the illustrations of Neil are also accentuated by the chosen colour palette (black and white and an orange beak). Polly is distressed when he flies off into the storm and she has to wait for him to return as well as her father.

There are some beautiful touches of interplay between mother and daughter. Polly wakes up early, the inference is that it is too early, and:

“Mummy was trying to do Busy Stuff.”

She asks Polly for five minutes – and the author turns to talk to the reader:

“Can you just give me five minutes?” said Mummy. (Does your mummy ever say that?)”

There are some real moments of emotional intelligence all the way through the book, from the illustrations of Mummy at the computer with Polly hanging round her neck, to Mummy’s comforting of Polly during the storm:
“I would come and find you. That’s what mummies do. Shelter you from storms.”

Mummy also shows Polly that she is not alone in her waiting – with a sympathetic and understanding explanation of all the other people who are waiting in the café. There is a beautifully happy uplifting ending of course – a hug of a story. At the end there is information on lighthouses, recipes and activities. Perfect for newly independent readers, and mums who want their heartstrings twanged. You can buy it here.

superhero street

Superhero Street by Phil Earle, illustrated by Sara Ogilvie
For my eagle-eyed readers, you’ll see that this is the second in Phil’s series of Storey Street books, and the first, Demolition Dad, I featured last Father’s Day, so it’s rather fitting that this second slots into my Mother’s Day post.

Mouse lives on Storey Street with his twin and triplet brothers. He is obsessed with superheroes, and knows he could be one himself, as heroes tend to come from the ordinary – just look at Clark Kent. So far though, he hasn’t been successful.

When he and his mother accidentally foil a bank robbery, his dreams of being a superhero come true. When other ‘superheroes’ arrive at his house, he and they band together to stop a dastardly villain returning to claim her missing diamond.

The story is slightly more insular than Demolition Dad – it is almost entirely focussed on Mouse’s family, with friends on the street as periphery characters only, but this is mainly because Mouse’s own family is a bit of a mess, and rather sprawling. Mouse feels overlooked at home, with five smaller brothers to look after, his parents are exhausted. Then when his Dad walks out, Mouse’s despair sinks to new levels. If children are unhappy at home, it’s hard to shift the focus away.

Because this is for younger readers than Phil Earle’s YA territory, he very cleverly weaves the silliness of the story, complete with madcap and lunatic characters such as superhero Dandruff Dan, into the mix, so that bodily function jokes mask the seriousness of a father leaving home and the burden left behind on the mother.

The underlying message is that anyone can be a superhero if they act in the correct way – Mouse’s mother is certainly a superhero in my eyes, and in illlustrator Sara Ogilvie’s eyes: her portrayal of Mum in the kitchen supervising her six boys. Mouse’s mother is also the school lollipop lady – another community superhero.

Phil’s penchant for authorial references and asides to the reader always makes me giggle, and emphasise that he’s telling a story:

“People throw parties for lots of different reasons. Birthdays, weddings, chickenpox…don’t laugh, it’s true, go and ask your mum. Well, go on! OK, are you back? Comfy? Good…”

So combined with the silliness of the plot, the hilarious illustrations, and the comedic text, this makes for a riotous book despite the underlying seriousness.

A superhero writer – showing the goodness of mothers. For readers aged 7+ years. You can buy it here.

sam and sam

The Secrets of Sam and Sam by Susie Day

What’s better than one mum? Two mums! As Susie Day puts it in The Secrets of Sam and Sam:
“One mum was good. Two mums was best.”

This novel is a spin-off title from Susie Day’s much loved series about Pea (including Pea’s Book of Best Friends). Secondary characters in Pea’s books, the twins Sam and Sammie move centre stage with their own story here, in a loveable tale about being twins, having a loving family, school trips, conquering fears, making friends and builders!

Told in a series of vignettes about Sam’s secrets, and then also third person narrative about both twins, as well as letters, annotations on the book Mum K (child psychologist) is writing, and various other documents and text messages, this is a hilarious look about finding out who you are, what you can achieve, and how to make friends.

Sam is scared of heights and wants to avoid the school trip, which sounds dangerous and risky. Sammie is delighted about the school trip, but rather worried that her best friend has a new best friend. And she needs to prove to everyone that she’s definitely the Best Twin. Meanwhile Sam and Sammie’s two mums have secrets of their own.

This is a fun story that children will whizz through, sympathising at times with both twins, and seeing the delightful irony and wit that shines through Susie Day’s writing.

The author is brilliant at conveying the messiness, stresses, and love of the family unit in all its different guises and ways – even with the peripheral characters in this novel, and that’s what makes the read heart-warming, sincere, and sharp too. She imbues her characters with a warmth and generosity – even when they’re making mistakes (the adults too), so that the reader both empathises with them, and feels a familiarity with the book too. Her settings are incredibly visual – the street is particularly well-described, so that the reader is completely immersed.

Dotted throughout with doodly illustrations by Aaron Blecha, the book feels both meaty in content and yet satisfyingly easy to fly through – highly recommended for children aged 8+ years. And it features a family with two mothers. Hard to beat on Mother’s Day. You can buy it here.

Defender of the Realm by Mark Huckerby and Nick Ostler

Defender of the Realm

A superb premise, well executed. It’s easy to tell that authors Mark Huckerby and Nick Ostler are screenwriters – the book begins with an action scene of the heir to the British throne dashing through the streets to avoid both paparazzi and security guards. You can almost hear the director’s voice – zooming the camera in here, sweeping through the streets there.

Fourteen year old Alfie is a reluctant heir to the throne, particularly when his father dies suddenly and it is thrust upon him rather more prematurely than he had hoped. However, there’s more to the job than photo ops and ribbon cutting – and Alfie discovers that the lineage of royalty is also a lineage of superhero power – fighting a centuries old battle against monsters and supervillains (all in immense secrecy – the public is unaware of the King’s dual royal).

At the same time, the reader’s focus is drawn to a commoner – teenager Hayley Hicks – who happens to get caught up in one of the secret battles, and before long is more embroiled in royal shenanigans than she could imagine. She is the perfect antithesis to the privileges and snobbery of royalty, and a great sparring partner for Alfie.

What’s delightful about this novel, as well as the constant flux between ‘real’ life and ‘fantasy’, and the grounding of the teens who are as normal, acerbic, and witty as a reader could want – is the phenomenal ‘history-building’ that the authors have imagined to accompany their premise.

Alfie has a ‘mentor’ and guide in the shape of advisor, Lord Chamberlain, who is a great pontificating character. He teaches ‘real’ history to Alfie, including the magical powers of the crown jewels, how King Alfred the Great really fought the Vikings (and their dogs!), how Elizabeth I fought the Spanish king and his armada of vampire mermaids…plus a whole new way at looking at Beefeaters.

It’s lovely because it ties in British history, especially the places Alfie must go to fight the Black Dragon: Westbury, Stonehenge, Edinburgh Castle, as well as royal settings in his real life rather than superhero life – the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, even Harrow School. This makes the book very British in ‘feel’, which is exactly how a book about royalty should be.

The characters are all well drawn, the action is relentless, the plot tight. But most of all it’s pure fun. This book definitely gets my royal seal of approval. You can buy a copy here.

For age 8+

An Interview with Mark Huckerby and Nick Ostler, authors of Defender of the Realm

Defender of the Realm

Mark Huckerby and Nick Ostler are an Emmy and Bafta-Nominated screenwriting partnership, and scriptwriters of the new and highly acclaimed Danger Mouse. Their first foray into the world of children’s publishing, Defender of the Realm, is published on World Book Day – it doesn’t get much better than that. It’s an action-packed, gripping novel, about fourteen year old Alfie, heir to the throne. What Alfie doesn’t realise is that as well as becoming King, he also assumes the inherited role of ‘Defender’ – superhero, who must battle to save the country from the Black Dragon. My review will be published Sunday, but I had the honour of interviewing the writing duo behind this fab new series. This is what they said.

You’re an award-nominated screenwriting duo. What made you decide to write a children’s book?

Well, we both love books in the fantasy genre for this age and writing a novel was always something we wanted to try. But really, it was the content that dictated the form in this instance. Defender of the Realm takes place in a parallel reality version of Britain and we needed to figure out the big rules for that universe… a universe where monsters are real and Kings and Queens are secret super heroes. We felt only a book would allow us the freedom to explore all of that in depth and get it right!

www.sarahweal.com +07957284588

There are a lot of inventive ideas in the book such as the magic of the crown jewels and playful ideas with the magic of lineage. How did you come up with them?

It all flowed really from the “what if?” idea of Kings and Queens being secret superheroes. That was the big idea and from there, the supporting ideas of magical crown jewels, alternative secret history of Britain and inherited blue blood super powers seemed to come naturally. It was so much fun to work on because of that, you know you’re on to something when the ideas don’t stop. It felt like striking oil! The rules of it all were hard to figure out and pin down but that was part of the job of this book, set out the stall for our world and tell it in a fun and exciting way. We did a lot of research into the royal history of Britain as well. The more we looked into the idea of monarchy, the greater the similarities to superheroes were apparent.

Writing is usually quite a solitary act, how do you pen a novel together? What are your writing practises?

We’ve got immense respect for writers who write on their own. It’s a tough gig keeping a level head when dealing with the ups and downs of the business and keeping yourself fresh, happy and ready to write! So it helps to have someone to laugh with about things- so much of this business is out of your control it’s good to have someone alongside reminding you of that. Work wise,  we spend a lot of time talking before writing anything, a habit picked up in screenwriting where producers invariably want to see outlines before you can proceed to script. So we spend hours breaking the story, then we extensively outline to the end and only then do we start writing. We take alternative chapters, then switch over, give notes and plough on, fighting to get that first “dirty draft” done. Then we rewrite. It’s fun seeing each other’s chapters because even with all the detailed outlining, we surprise each other with how we’ve written it.

The book mixes fantasy and reality, with giant powerful lizards and also the paparazzi and a citizen’s viewpoint, in that of Hayley. Is one of you better at fantasy and one reality?

No, it’s part and parcel of the Defender world- those rules I mentioned above. Nailing the level of reality, how the fantasy and reality of the world intersect, was part of the development we did. We both brought ideas to the table, from big action sequence ideas to smaller (but no less important!) character details.

Do either of you plan to write solo at any point? What would you miss most about the other if you did?

I don’t think so. I hope not! Cue Nick announcing a new six part, solo graphic novel. Here’s the thing: the big concept of the King or Queen of Britain as a superhero was Nick’s idea way back when and he unthinkingly and unselfishly let me in on it purely because we’re a writing partnership. It wasn’t called Defender of the Realm then, it was only a germ of an idea and it’s now very much “our” idea now. But I thought it was a great pitch with massive potential. Hopefully people will think the same after reading the book. We always say the best thing about working in a partnership is that you only have to have half a good idea and then the fun is working it up together.

Have you already written the film script for Defender of the Realm, and who would you cast as the Lord Chamberlain (a somewhat staid and grumpy, though very knowledgeable and quite endearing, authoritative character)?

Good question. Before Defender was a book we were thinking it was a big TV show or film and we considered doing it that way. As I said, doing it as a book gave us the freedom and time to explore the world and get it right. Of course, we dream that one day the film rights might sell (!) but who knows, it would be an expensive film to make and make right. I always imagined LC as Ian McKellan myself. Charles Dance would also be perfect. We’re lucky in the UK that we’re spoilt for choice when it comes to actors with great gravitas who would fit the bill. Someone with bearing, hidden depths and possessed of a withering glare!

With thanks to Mark and Nick – you can pre-order your copy of Defender of the Realm here, or you can read my review on Sunday and then buy it!

Fusion Fun

The brilliant thing about reading books with children is that it’s fun. Storytelling can cross genres and create exciting new fusion titles.

Pablo and Jane and the Hot Air Contraption by Jose Domingo fuses comic book with picture book and a Where’s Wally style hide-and-seek to create a madcap colourful wacky adventure story. And Electrigirl by Jo Cotterill and Cathy Brett fuses comic book with novel to create a superhero adventure.

electrigirl

Electrigirl tells the story of Holly Sparkes, an ordinary 12 year old girl, who gets struck by lightning, or so she thinks. But then she starts to notice her new strange electrical charge. It takes her comic-mad brother to recognise that she has electrical superpowers, and that his sister is now a bona fide superhero. Just as well, because her best friend Imogen has disappeared, and someone needs to battle Professor Macavity, head of CyberSky the phone company, to find her.

Although a slim adventure story novel, Electrigirl sparkily packs in a host of elements, from a new feisty female superhero to sibling loyalty, bullying in the playground, and the dangers of mobile phones both to the brain, and also the damage they can wreak on social interaction. As befits any superhero book, there’s also an evil villain at the head of a nasty monopolising corporation.

But this story is perfect for reluctant readers, because the scenes that build tension, and the scenes of superhero action are all depicted by Cathy Brett as graphic comic strips. The book starts, in fact, with Cathy’s comic book portrayals of the main characters, and the illustrations really kick off when Holly gets zapped. There is no lack of explosions in the book – at first Holly can’t control her powers and blows everything up, which is enormous fun.

The author drops in a number of ‘clues’ and intrigue along the way, such as “if only I’d known then what I know now,” as well as some wonderful vocabulary in the comic strips – zaps and tingles and schwumpzz, mixing all the elements of the two genres beautiful in this fusion novel.

The next in the series is out on 1 August this year, and I’m feeling tingly already. Age 7+. You can buy it here.

pablo

Pablo and Jane and the Hot Air Contraption bursts with bright, bold wacky colours, as befits the adventure inside. The picture book starts as comic strip: Pablo and Jane are bored, so decide to explore the spooky old house up on the hill, having hilariously ruled out the ‘abandoned sawmill’, ‘the old graveyard’, ‘the haunted orphanage’ and the ‘tunnel of whispers’! Once there, they are trapped into the Monster Dimension by an evil cat, Dr Felinibus.

There follows twelve double pages of full page illustrations from Lopsided London to Monstrous Moscow, Muerto Mexico and ‘Orrible Outback. In each spread, Pablo and Jane, and the reader must find the correct tools to fix their Hot Air Time Machine, and travel back home, in a kind of ‘Where’s Wally’ scenario.

Each of these luscious spreads is crammed full with detail, colour, mad figures, props and entertainment – in fact the end of the book suggests other things to look for on each spread too including such mischievous elements as “A handsome troll (compared to the others, that is)”, and “2 zombies in rubber rings who can’t swim”. Each time the reader examines the illustrations, there is even more to find, jokes to see, and the ‘finding’ is fairly challenging.

The adventure resumes in comic book style as the children find their way home. It’s perfect for reluctant readers, enormous fun, and there are carefully wrapped narratives in each scene.

The book bursts with energy and flamboyance – and beware – monsters. Also suitable for age 7+ years. You can find it here.

An Interview with children’s author, Jason Rohan

sword of kuromori shield of kuromori

For the YAshot bloggers tour, I’m delighted to interview Jason Rohan, author of The Kuromori Trilogy. (please click on the title to see my review). Having met Jason last April and had a deliciously bookish discussion in a Waterstones branch, Jason then kindly agreed to answer my questions for MinervaReads.com over the summer. Once again I must also thank Alexia Casale for all her work with YAshot. Please click the link to find out more about this event.

Hi Jason. You used to work for Marvel Comics. Who’s your favourite superhero and why?

My favourite super-hero has always been Iron Man and that goes back way before the movies. I like the fact that he’s a self-made hero. Tony Stark’s only powers are courage and intellect. He isn’t born with any special gifts; he isn’t an alien; nor is he the result of a freak accident. In the comics he used to carry the Iron Man armour around with him in a briefcase and, when trouble arrived, he’d run away to find somewhere to get changed, whereas everyone else thought he was a coward. There was a nice sense of humour and style that I admired. Also, his playboy lifestyle made for some James Bond-esque settings and witty repartee. But the best thing? Anyone could be Iron Man – all you needed was the suit.

Your trilogy, The Sword of Kuromori, is based on your time teaching in Japan. What is the biggest difference between Tokyo and London life?

How long have you got? Seriously, Japan is an incredible place but the differences are many and deep-rooted. When I first arrived, expecting to see temples and kimonos but instead encountering McDonald’s and KFC, I was disappointed, but over time I realised that those Western aspects were purely superficial and that traditional Japan was very much alive and present. If I had to single out one key difference, I’d say it’s the sense of conformity. People in Japan tend to go with the group for the sake of harmony, whereas in the West we tend to laud the individual who goes against the tide.

In that case, whilst setting the Kuromori trilogy in Japan, did you deliberately make your protagonist, Kenny, a Westerner to highlight the clash of cultural mindset? Or, is he a reflection of a younger you?

The idea with making Kenny a Westerner was a combination of things – the trope of the innocent abroad; the hero’s journey in an exotic land; the fish-out-of-water aspects; having an Everyman focus for the reader to follow as he comes to grips with a new culture – but you do highlight the two key points. One, that Kenny is a proxy for me and has some of the same reactions I had. Two, his special ability – the one thing which sets him apart from everyone around him, particularly his Japanese colleagues, is his unconventional thinking. It’s not intended as a critique of Japanese cultural norms – far from it, and there are many Japanese people who go against the tide – but I remember many times being told that I couldn’t do something because it just wasn’t the done thing. Of course, being a gaijin, they politely forgave me for not knowing better! Two quick illustrations of this come to mind: one, Japanese people will wait patiently for the lights to change before they cross the road, even on a deserted road with no cars coming; two, for what we call common sense, meaning ‘good judgement’, the Japanese equivalent is what we would call ‘received wisdom’. That’s a big difference. Common sense puts the onus on the individual to use their noggin to know if something is a bad idea; received wisdom draws on collective ideas of the norm.

So far in the trilogy, book one is about finding belief in yourself and book two explores the concept of duty. Which three qualities would you say are essential for the next generation?

As a father, teacher, manager and football coach, I am lucky enough to work with young people, and they get a bad rap in general. Many cranky older people seem to forget what they were like at the same age. But let’s face it, the next generation is going to inherit a messed-up world with a whole lot of challenges. If they’re going to start putting things right they’ll need resilience, courage and imagination. Resilience because the only guarantee is that it’s going to be tough and everyone will have to dig in and pull their weight. Courage because the solutions will not be pretty and the temptation will be to blame others, to be fearful and to duck the difficult choices. Imagination because, more than ever, there is going to be a need for new ways of thinking, of approaching issues, and of resolving seemingly intractable problems in order to enact a better future for all. When the old ways no longer work, you have to invent anew.

You infuse your work with an understanding of Japanese mythology. Is it important for you to impart knowledge as well as tell a good story?

Absolutely. I grew up reading the Willard Price Adventure series and I learned so much about the world from those books. As a reader, I’m always looking to learn something new, whether it be cutting-edge science from Michael Crichton or an insight into the human condition from William Golding. If I read a book and take nothing away, I feel slightly cheated. All the great stories teach something, whether they be parable, myth, play, poem or novel.

For me, a trait of modern children’s books is to feature dual protagonists – one male and one female. How important is it for you to portray gender balance when writing?

As a parent of both boys and girls, I see first-hand the damage that gender stereotyping can do, even from an early age, and I cringe at things like body-shaming. I’m a firm believer in equality of opportunity and I try to ensure that my own children aspire to achieve their ambitions, regardless of what society might say. That carries over into my writing and is why I refuse to write a simpering female character whose only purpose in a story is to cheer lead for the male hero or to be rescued by him. I’ve been surrounded by strong women all my life so for me it’s natural to portray female protagonists who can more than match their male counterparts and I think it’s important for girls, too, to see these role models in fiction as well as in real life.

YAshot celebrates libraries. In what way are libraries important to you?

Libraries are so much more than just places where you can borrow books. To me, they are the repositories of all human wisdom. Without delving too far into it, you could make the case that Europe entered the Dark Ages following the loss of classical learning and only emerged with the fall of Constantinople and the resulting dissemination of knowledge as scholars fled with salvaged texts. Of course, this is a gross oversimplification, but the idea of libraries safeguarding the cultural and intellectual wealth of a nation isn’t far off the mark. I read a recent thought experiment in which people were asked whether erasing history and starting afresh would be a good thing, as we wouldn’t have our grievances and enmities. The conclusion was that people would end up finding new reasons to squabble and that history is there to prevent us making the same mistakes repeatedly. Libraries house knowledge; without them you dumb down the world.

What are you reading at the moment?

I’m currently reading Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and The Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright. Before that, I read Kingdom Come, a Superman graphic novel. I like to mix things up!

Do you have the next idea simmering for when the trilogy comes to an end? And can you share it with me?

Kuromori was the first book I sold but not the first one I wrote, so I have a couple of earlier, finished novels already, which I’m dusting down. One is a MG all-action adventure which I describe as Thunderbirds meets Die Hard. The other is a YA supernatural horror which draws on Milton’s Paradise Lost. I’m currently working on a MG scfi-fi novel which is about space exploration.

You can purchase Jason’s The Sword of Kuromori and The Shield of Kuromori from Waterstones by clicking on the titles for the link, or you can click on the Amazon sidebar (from a PC).

My Brother is a Superhero by David Solomons

My Brother Superhero

I was sold on the premise of this book before it even arrived: Luke goes for a much needed wee, leaving his older brother alone in the treehouse at precisely the moment when Zorbon arrives from outer space and grants his undeserving older brother superpowers. And David Solomons has executed his premise wickedly.

From the first sentence explaining Luke’s bad timing, he comes across as a loveable comic-mad 11 year old with oodles of wit, attitude and boyish exuberance. The plot develops at fair pace, with Luke exploring which superpowers Zack has been granted and trying to identify his Nemesis. Then Zack is kidnapped, and Luke has to work with his friends to rescue him in time so that Zack can use his superpowers to save the entire planet.

As the story builds to its climax, David Solomon’s writing becomes more and more filmic – the final scenes in the fake volcano are more than inventive – it’s like every comic book sewn together as one. I could almost feel the evil laugh ‘mwha ha ha ha’. In fact it is one of the most filmic children’s books I have read – the author even imagines that his acknowledgements should ‘zoom out the page at you in massive 3D titles, accompanied by a stirring orchestral score’.

References to comics, superheroes, and films abound, although it is easy to follow even if you aren’t genned up on all of these. There are touching references to Luke’s Dad introducing him to Star Wars, which were particularly enjoyable. The superb cast of characters bring scope for humour in every eventuality – their traits are enjoyable without being forced. A supervillain who wants to be the superhero but is deluded, a girl who wants to be a journalist but gets her vocabulary wrong – especially at inappropriate moments; to the supervillain:

“‘You’re diluted,’ she said scornfully.

He looked understandably puzzled.

‘Deluded’ I explain.”

Luke’s best friend, Serge, is French and obsessed with food – there’s no end to the comedic possibilities. Their use of the vending machine as part of their plan to stop the villain is inspired, especially the children’s research of online discussion forums to find ‘known issues’ with the machine. In fact there are constant references to modern technology and culture (although no one I know in a certain DIY store has ever been that helpful), and references to the younger children’s restrictions with phones, which sits the book squarely in today’s zeitgeist.

It was so funny I laughed out loud on numerous occasions, read out bits with delight to my family, and gulped it down in one read. A fantastic new talent – I fully expect that one day I will see David Solomon’s name blasting out my television George Lucas-esque.

You can buy it here from Waterstones or on the Amazon sidebar.