Tag Archive for Rundell Katherine

The Explorer by Katherine Rundell, illustrated by Hannah Horn

Katherine Rundell publishes her children’s books with an effortless breathlessness; they are dizzying in their sumptuous prose and expert storytelling, put children in the most challenging environments – from the rooftops of Paris in Rooftoppers to the snowy tundra of Russia in The Wolf Wilder, not to mention the African savannah and then harsh boarding school of The Girl Savage, and yet the books also manage to speak to the reader with a simple sublime truth. Rundell’s latest, The Explorer, takes the child protagonists to an even greater extreme, crash-landing them in the Amazon jungle.

Fred, Con, Lila and Max are alone with no food and no shelter. They must learn to navigate the unknown territory in which they find themselves, as well as find a route back to civilisation. At first, they look only for food and water, but then by accident, stumble across a map marked with an X – a sign that they are not alone, as they had envisaged. With growing courage, and a desire to survive, the children handcraft a raft which should take them to the X. But X marks the spot of someone else’s home, and they are not entirely welcome.

Rundell’s ability to handle the very different characteristics of the four children is apparent from the beginning, each personality drawing conflict with the others, and yet each being endearing and frustrating in their own way. The interaction between them, in very difficult circumstances, is as dramatic as any theatre production – the children forge through the jungle, all the while perpetuating the conflict between them, and quite often the struggle within themselves. Fred is loveable as a clear leader, but one obsessed with his perception of his father – as a parent who only sees his son’s shortcomings. Con struggles terrifically with the gendered role she has been assigned at home. Lila, with her younger brother Max, is perhaps the most sympathetic and nurturing of the four – she even adopts a sloth – but she too is nuanced – there are no cardboard cutout characters here.

The book immerses the reader in the Amazon. Rundell brings alive the sights and smells of the jungle, the pervasive problem of what to eat, and not only the wildlife, but the children’s relationship with it. Her sense of place is extraordinary, and it is no great surprise to learn that it is taken from first-hand experience. And the added element of Hannah Horn’s illustrations imbue the book with a sense of the wonder and beauty of the Amazon.

But tied up beneath the surface story of children surviving in this jungle environment are intricate questions of belonging, and the spaces we carve out for ourselves in society and culture, the expectations upon us, and also the balance of exploration and exploitation of other cultures.

The reader excuses the ease with which the children stumble upon the map and ‘the explorer’, because the enthusiasm and exuberance with which Rundell brings each new element of the story to light is utterly compelling. The power of flight, the joyfulness of discovery and escape, and the flourish with which Rundell furnishes her novels with truisms and wisdom:

“You don’t have to be in a jungle to be an explorer…Exploring is nothing more than the paying of attention…If you pay ferocious attention to the world, you will be as safe as it is possible to be.”

There’s an extra swiftness to this latest Rundell story, which in part lends it to an even younger readership than that of Rooftoppers and The Wolf Wilder, and although the prose is equally beautiful, the descriptions too are faster. With four child characters there is more dialogue, more action than before.

One can’t help feel that Rundell very much takes her own advice. Her stories bear out that she pays enormous attention to what’s going on around her, as well as plucking the richest bits for her prose. The Explorer bursts with ferocious energy, and each character carries an undercurrent of fierce passion. It’s a book that can’t help but inspire children with their own passion for life. You can buy it here.

Building Bridges FCBG Conference 2016

logo FCBG

This weekend I’m at the 2016 Federation of Children’s Book Groups Conference (FCBG16). The theme this year is Building Bridges: Forging Connections and Growing Readers. And of course the aim of everyone here, be they booksellers, publishers, authors, librarians, or teachers is to grow readers – to encourage young people to read for pleasure.

But another question has popped up too – in many of the panel sessions, and that is – what are authors of children’s books trying to achieve? Of course, all the writers admitted that first and foremost they write for themselves – for their inner 9, 11, 14 year old selves, for the book they wanted to read, because as writers, that’s what we do.

And yet there’s also the secondary part of writing, which is the readers. How do we pull them in? And once we’ve opened that door and hooked them, how do we keep children coming back for more? The perennial question in the children’s libraries I work in is ‘What shall I read next?’, and the perennial playground question is ‘What should I buy/borrow for my child to read next?’ Governments pay heed – if we get rid of the librarians, who will hold open that door and not let it swing shut in the child’s face?

Horatio Clare, author of Aubrey and the Terrible Yoot, was very clear that whatever underlying message might be embedded in a text, or whatever else an author sets out to achieve, the dominant intention must be to entertain. For otherwise, of course, who would read the books?

Of course in today’s age, as Mike Revell, author of Stonebird, pointed out, it’s also about instant gratification. The hook must be there from the beginning. When today’s kids switch on the Playstation, an ‘other’ world is built immediately – the child can see it all simply by pressing the on button. With books, the reader has to work a bit harder – it takes longer to become immersed and that is a key challenge for today’s authors.

One of my key messages in my role as a reading consultant is that parents should limit screen time and its instant gratification. If a child is bored, they are more likely to pick up a book. It’s not likely to happen if they are sat in front of a screen with a console in their hands.

For Katherine Rundell (Rooftoppers, The Wolf Wilder), books were a crutch to lean on, a safe place to be, even a way of being – not an escape but life itself – an affirmation of who she was as a child, “a finding place, not a hiding place.” It’s also a totally immersive activity in an age dominated by interruptions – especially the bleepy kind. Katherine Rundell compared reading to walking a tightrope – it’s not something from which you can afford to be distracted.

Authors of children’s books are also trying to broaden horizons, not to limit children’s potential for discovery – booksellers don’t genre segment children’s books in a bookshop because no one wants to be pigeon holed as a ‘fantasy’ reader just because they liked Maurice Sendak as a pre-schooler, or The Hobbit as an eleven-year-old. Much as the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and the different worlds within was a gateway to fiction for Shane Hegarty (Darkmouth), so ideally children would explore all the different universes of literature before making up their mind what they like.

This includes illustrated books too. The children’s book world is showing an increasing prevalence of illustration, and with the appointment of Chris Riddell as children’s laureate, more and more illustration is being incorporated into fiction, even older fiction. Shane Hegarty believes this is a consequence of adapting to a more visual generation. Even when children have been enticed away from a screen to read a book, it helps if the book has illustrative qualities along with the text.

The author/illustrator Curtis Jobling (Max Helsing: Monster Hunter) agrees that visual storytelling is relevant. Especially with those who, like author Phil Earle, sigh heavily when presented with a very long text-heavy book. And being visual doesn’t have to equate to light-heartedness. No one would argue that graphic novels such as Maus and Persepolis deal with light topics. Phil Earle (Superhero Street) was strident in his views that the danger for many is that they view comics as boiled down to just those few ‘kapow’ moments at the end – the last bit of the drama in which the sucker punch is dealt, rather than concentrate on the plot, the darkness, the conflict that comes before.

“There’s a big resistance in some schools in which they see pictures as being just for infants. But they’re not. Pictures can accentuate the storytelling and the depth of the reader’s experience.”

For debut YA authors, Harriet Reuter Hapgood (The Square Root of Summer) and Sara Bernard (Beautiful Broken Things), one of the purposes of their fiction is reassurance. Teens don’t want educational or didactic fiction, but perhaps they do want affirmative and reassuring fiction. And so there is a responsibility on the contemporary YA author to present truths in their fiction. As the teenage voice becomes culturally more important in our era, so the responsibility lies more heavily.

Not that authors of children’s fiction want to provide all, or even one, of the answers. But (with thanks to Julia Bell) as Chekhov said, “the task of a writer is not to solve the problem but to state the problem correctly.” The authors here are certainly doing that in droves.

 

 

Top Ten(ish) Books Published 2015

I’m not convinced on the end of year lists thing. MinervaReads raison d’etre being that one list of ten books would not suit any two children – different books suit different children. However, this being the time of year when we all go crazy and make top ten lists of absolutely everything, here are the top ten children’s books of MINE for 2015 – simply the books I most enjoyed reading (for review purposes). And by the way, this was ridiculously tricky (which is why I kind of cheated and mentioned 16).

bear on chairplease mr pandaBear and the Piano

There’s a Bear on My Chair by Ross Collins
I first saw a copy of this book pre-publication in April when a sample was thrust upon me at a conference. I agreed with the publisher that this was bound to be a hit and subsequently reviewed on publication in June. For me, I like picture books that, as a parent, you are happy to read over and over – as that’s what a child demands. I also like inference – when you have to work out a bit of the story for yourself – and illustrations that elicit a wry smile or an outright guffaw. The text is reminiscent of Dr Seuss, the pictures humorous and warm. This ticked all the boxes and it’s my picture book of the year. A small mention to Please Mr Panda – which just crept into 2015 books, and is probably my joint favourite – Steve Antony is proving to be a master of his trade – and the panda is one of my favourite modern picture book characters, demanding politeness from children in the simplest yet most exquisite way. I can’t wait for him to demand patience from them, as he will be doing in 2016 with I’ll Wait, Mr Panda. One other picture book I’d recommend as a startling debut and one to not be missed from the 2015 publications list is The Bear and the Piano by David Litchfield. The messages within the story, and the way the illustrations capture light, make this a totally exquisite book.

tree

Tree by Britta Teekentrup and Patricia Hegarty
Non-fiction is being packaged more and more effectively by clever children’s publishers, and for me Tree stood out as one of the best cross-overs between fiction and non-fiction this year. The text is poetic (it also rhymes) and fictional – but through its illustrations, Tree shows the changing of the seasons, making clever use of die-cuts so that the reader can see inside the tree too. The colour palate in this book is a treasure in itself – as the same tree morphs from season to season – the leaves, creatures and surrounding atmosphere changing, the basic trunk stays the same. This was a book that was pounced on by all children as soon as they saw it, and held wonders within.

the school of art

School of Art by Teal Triggs, illustrated by Daniel Frost
This features as my non-fiction title of the year, as never has a book managed to explain complicated concepts and high-art techniques and subjects to me in such a simple way. Knowing nothing about the subject, I came to this as a child would and was entranced with the wonderful explanations – the introduction of professors who taught different knowledge bases, and the fantastic examples and try-it-at-home sequences – all of which worked exceptionally well. The design of the book was different too – clean, tidy and neatly colourful. In my initial review I found some of the text quite dense, but actually have since dipped in and out very successfully, and love that the book is so comprehensive. A rich overarching story within which the separate sections operate well on their own or as part of a whole. The book imparts great knowledge.

completely cassidy

Completely Cassidy: Accidental Genius by Tamsyn Murray
I have to admit, many books purporting to tell a story from a 9-13 year old contemporary girl’s point of view about her family/friends/school/boys, crop up on my radar. This one stood out for me because I simply couldn’t put it down. Cassidy rang so true, her character was so alive – I demolished this book in a sitting and was laughing out loud. With random doodles, fun graphics and capital letters, this was the most fun I had reading this year.

Mango and Bambang

Mango and Bambang by Polly Faber and Clara Vulliamy
This is the year for me in which illustrated stories piqued the attention like no other category within children’s books – from the phenomenal duo of Philip Reeve and Sarah Macintyre with Pugs of the Frozen North to Squishy McFluff by Pip Jones and Ella Okstad , to Dave McKean’s Illustrations of Phoenix by SF Said, to the ongoing success of Claude by Alex T Smith and Tom Gates by Liz Pichon, and of course our children’s laureate’s wonderful Ottoline. However, Mango and Bambang was like a breath of fresh air in the genre – a tidal wave of happiness – with its two tone colour perfection – its stripes, its worldly setting, its characters. This first book contains four individual stories about a girl who discovers a lost tapir. It is gentle, yet alluring.

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Stonebird by Mike Revell
Although published early in 2015, and one of the first books I reviewed, this story still sticks fast in my memory – its poignant storytelling with a touch of magic about a boy who moves house, so that his mother can be nearer his grandmother who suffers from dementia, both engages and enthralls. The book deals sensitively with the consequences of the move, including the bullying Liam experiences at his new school, as well as the effect on his mother. Liam overcomes some of his problems by seeking the help of responsible grown-ups, and using the magic of storytelling. It deserves to be in every school library, and I hope for more from this author. Later in the year, reading In Darkling Wood by Emma Carroll, I was also smitten with a protagonist dealing with the fallout from illness in the family, and some magic in the surroundings – both these titles, for age 9+ yrs struck me as being brilliantly evocative.

An Island Of Our Own

An Island Of Our Own by Sally Nicholls
I was gearing up to interview Sally Nichols for #YASHot in September (although this didn’t quite happen as Sally had her baby – congrats!) but in preparation I read all of Sally’s books. This one stands out for several reasons. Beautifully short chapters that enable even the most reluctant reader to sample small delectable portions of Sally’s writing, and wonderful characterisation – Sally definitely wins the Oscar for Best Supporting Cast, as her secondary characters are so wonderfully defined I know I’m not the only reviewer to have fallen for Jonathan, the protagonist’s big brother. She also weaves a neat mystery plot. Sally incorporates great use of setting from the flat the children live in, to the island they visit, as well as introducing exciting extra information into her books, in this one, the MakerSpace organisation. A great book.

demolition dad

Demolition Dad by Phil Earle, illustrated by Sara Ogilvie
Phil Earle has been writing for a while, but mainly for slightly older children, so it was a blessing that he decided to reach down the age ladder slightly with this terrifically funny, yet also poignant, well-crafted novel. A great plot, sense of community, carefully dealt with emotion, an insight into father/son relationships – this book has so much. The humour is intensified by Phil’s self-referential jokes, as well as Sara Ogilvie’s amazing illustrations. A gem (and also more to come focussing on the same community next year).

The Dreamsnatcher cover FINAL

The Dreamsnatcher by Abi Elphinstone
Another book I stumbled across pre-publication, and adored. Dark fantasy with such dense imagery, but led by a forcefield in the shape of Moll, our protagonist. Brave, feisty, impetuous, like a younger contemporary Northern Lights Lyra mixed with the determination of Sara Crewe from A Little Princess, and Wonderland Alice’s curiosity, and Elphinstone has drawn quite a heroine. With the darkest prologue I’ve read for a while (I like dark), and a vigorous plot, this was an influential read. Looking forward to reviewing the sequel The Shadow Keeper next year (with some more deliciously dark scenes from Abi Elphinstone’s wild imagination).

The Boy Who Drew the Future

The Boy Who Drew the Future by Rhian Ivory
This was such an enjoyable read, it was another I consumed in a day. Told from a dual narrative point of view, one set historically, the contemporary, the themes and settings danced between the two – Ivory cleverly dropping clues in each to build to a dramatic climax. The characters were intensely loveable, there was clear anguish and conflict, and some brilliantly spooky coincidences. Simple, compelling storytelling.

OneRailhead

Young Teens
Two books that stood out for me in the highest age range I cater for, were One by Sarah Crossan, and Railhead by Philip Reeve. The former for Crossan’s stunning use of free verse to tell her story of conjoined twins – packed with beautiful memorable language, and strung with emotion. The latter for its uncompromising science fiction world-building, to the extent that the reader is pulled in without any misgiving. Intriguing characters, tense, grotesque (I will never forget the hive monks), exciting, scintillating – and the sort of book you wouldn’t just thrust upon your young teen, but also share with all the grown-ups too.

Wolf Wilder

Lastly, (I know I’m already well over ten), my award for most stunning writing goes to Katherine Rundell. I imagine her as a kind of Elsa from Frozen – words flung from her fingertips onto the page with magnificent magical majesty, just as ice flies from Elsa’s fingertips. She writes with meticulous precision – every word well placed, every phrase constructed like dainty decorations on a wedding cake. It is clear, crisp, attractive, easy to read, and highly perceptive.

Long before publication of her 2015 novel, The Wolf Wilder, the enchantment of the first line was on everyone’s lips “Once upon a time, a hundred years ago, there was a dark and stormy girl” and the images of the snowy landscape, the descriptions of the soldiers, the telling of the life of the wolves suck the reader into the story. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Animals, in particular, wolves

Wolf Wilder

Three weeks ago, I visited the Animal Tales exhibition (open until 1st Nov) at the British Library, which reminded me of the piece I wrote for the Middle Grade Strikes Back Blog earlier this year on the topic of animals in middle grade fiction (books for 8-12 year olds).

What strikes most of us working in children’s literature is the prevalence of the use of animals. Books teach us about our place in the world, who we are, how we live, and about how others live and feel. And animals give us a unique perspective – we only know what it is to be human by way of our relationship to what isn’t human – ie. that which is animal.

Animals in literature provide several opportunities to play with experiences: they can be outsiders (as children are often portrayed in literature – looking in on an adult world); animals are wild – they show us how we once were wild ourselves, innocents – before we were tamed by society. Children are ‘tamed’ into adhering to the constraints of society – no adult lies down in the middle of Tesco’s and has a tantrum about not being bought the Frozen advent calendar (well, not that I’ve witnessed). Black Beauty by Anna Sewell is a perfect example of an animal being shunted around from pillar to post and made to behave – be tamed. And by being wild, and outside the rules of our world, animals and children can have more adventures – Where the Wild Things Are speaks to this. Judith Kerr’s bestseller, The Tiger who Came to Tea, may be set in a home environment, but the introduction of a tiger (the wild) makes it an adventure. One of the most thrilling animal adventures for children, SF Said’s Varjak Paw takes the domesticated cat and casts him off into the wild.

The exhibition also drew attention to literature’s fascination with metamorphoses – humans turning into animals – from Actaeon in Ovid through to that poor family in Roald Dahl’s The Magic Finger. In Dahl’s story it is to teach the Gregg family that hunting is bad, In Beauty and the Beast – the man is punished for not showing kindness and so is turned into a beast. Both the family and the man are transformed back into their human forms in the end – the Greggs for repenting, and the Beast when he finds true love.

Animals are also an accessible way to teach children about the environment. Although fracking and diesel pollution may be topical, for children seeing the damage an oil spill can inflict on a bird holds much more immediacy. The Last Wild by Piers Torday uses animals to ask children to address how we treat the world in which we live, as does Watership Down.

Lastly, animals work as the perfect allegory. The anthropomorphism in children’s picture books allows us to address all those awkward issues which would be harsher and more direct if they were told using people. By using animals posturing as humans they teach us empathy – we see what it is that makes these animals human – they are wearing our clothes, and eating our food, and behaving as we do; their relationships with each other are human. Winnie the Pooh likes his little smackeral of something, and is a loyal and loving friend, The Very Hungry Caterpillar gets a stomach ache after all that delicious human food, The Cat in the Hat is our wild alter ego, the quick thinking mouse uses human cunning and logic to outwit The Gruffalo, and Farmer Duck is the quintessential animal with a human thought process. And I’ve talked previously about using animals to teach very young children about difficult topics such as death.

The Wolf Wilder is the latest book by Katherine Rundell.
Wolves have long been a strong feature of children’s literature – an animal of choice. From the wolf’s threatening posturing yet ultimate comeuppance in Little Red Riding Hood and the Three Little Pigs (everything is little in comparison to him), to his wry stupidity in Clever Polly and the Stupid Wolf, to his prowess, strength and bravery in The Last Wild trilogy and Wolf Brother. Children are introduced to the wolf symbolised by the French horn in Peter and the Wolf and can be inspired by White Fang’s menacing yet ultimately tamed wolf.

It is with the wildness and taming that Katherine Rundell starts her book. Feodora and her mother are wolf wilders: people who re-wild a wolf that has been wrongly or cruelly tamed (by the Russian aristocrats). Feo and her mother live in the snowy woods of Russia. When their place in the world is threatened, and when her mother is taken away by the Russian Army, Feo has no choice but to flee with her wolf pack, and set in motion a search and rescue for her mother.

Actually, Rundell’s novel starts like this:
“Once upon a time, a hundred years ago, there was a dark and stormy girl”
and from the language on the first page the reader is hooked.

Using wolves, Rundell touches on all the aspects of animals discussed – from the relationship between Feo and her wolves – the locals call her the ‘wolf girl’; she understands their needs and desires so much she almost becomes one:
“She could howl, her mother used to say, before she could talk.”

Her childish innocence mimics that of the wolf cub she tries to protect; her feeling of being an outsider like the wolves; and her protectiveness of the environment in which she lives. The wolves behave as the animals they are in the book, and indeed the whole premise is that they should be re-wilded – tuned back to nature – but Feo herself has a relationship with them not unlike a protective loving relationship that one might have with siblings or very close friends.

The characters are fierce and flawed and completely loveable – the reader can’t help but wish them to succeed in their endeavours – from Feo’s hunt for her mother, to Ilya’s fulfilment of his dreams. They stand up for what they believe in, and are ultimately brave in the pursuit of happiness.

But it is the language to which the reader returns. Katherine Rundell’s writing is as close to poetry as prose gets, from her description of ballet, “A kind of slowish magic. Like writing with your feet,” to her descriptive passage about the five kinds of cold including wind cold: “It was fussy and loud and turned your cheeks as red as if you’d been slapped.”
Rundell continues to weave this magic through the book, writing with apparent simplicity, and also wittiness, and yet each word carefully selected for its ability to paint a vivid picture in the reader’s mind.

It’s the kind of book every child should read for its wonder and magic, and characterisation, and ability to transport the reader to another time and place. It’s only weakness lies in the plot similarities to Rooftoppers, Rundell’s prior novel, but it’s a minor point.

Overall, one of the most beautifully written novels you’ll find for children. The kind of book, as Katherine Rundell says that “makes you feel taller…more capable of changing the world.” Read it to your child, otherwise you’ll miss out hugely! It’s a modern classic. For 8+yrs.

There are some wonderful illustrations too, but I reviewed an early proof copy, which did not have them.
To buy a copy of the book, click here.

Summer Reading List

I’m not going to be blogging in August. It’s my month to take stock, recharge, and just READ. So, in case you’re wondering which books to pack/download for your children or take out the library for the summer reading challenge (see here), then here are a few suggestions.

i want my hat backoliver and patchwinnie at the seasidekatie mcginty

I recently re-discovered I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen. This is a modern classic and as close to picture book perfection as you can get. A bear is looking for his hat and asks a variety of creatures if they have seen it. It’s a simple concept expertly executed, with fabulous dry wit and wonderful facial expressions – the text and pictures complement each other flawlessly. It is fun to do different voices for different characters and good for all ages to discuss what happened to the rabbit and why! Oliver and Patch by Claire Freedman and Kate Hindley is a beautiful story about moving to a new place. Summer can be a transition time for lots of children, and it’s good to read a reassuring story about making new friends and settling into a new place. Phenomenal vocabulary, exquisite illustrations – it also shows the fun you can have in a city. For something more summery try Winnie the Witch at the Seaside by Valerie Thomas and Korky Paul. Much loved by children everywhere, this episode takes Winnie to the beach – although will Wilbur the cat stay dry? A good story, well told, with Korky’s distinctive style of illustrations. If you don’t want to rely on old favourites, this summer watch out for Katie McGinty Wants a Pet by debut author Jenna Harrington, illustrated by Finn Simpson, publishing 13th August. Katie wants a very different kind of pet (bet you can guess from the cover!). Although she may end up with slightly more than she bargained for – the writing style is fun and quirky – and captures a small child wonderfully – ‘She wanted it more than Millie Phillips wanted to be able to stand on her head.’

oliver and the seawigsclever pollylottie liptonthe gingerbread star ted rules the worldClaude Lights

My newly independent reading choices are a mixture of old and new too. Oliver and the Seawigs by Philip Reeve and Sarah McIntyre is a gem of a book, which takes the reader on a seafaring voyage unlike any other. The illustrations are sensational, look out particularly for Iris the mermaid. A classic, which has just been reissued and is well worth a read is Clever Polly and the Wolf by Catherine Storr. With 13 separate stories this is a good starter read. Each story is a play on ‘wolf fairy tales’, but magically don’t seem dated at all – and Clever Polly is remarkably likeable. If you’re doing any museum visiting this summer, or just looking to solve some riddles, a great read is the new Lottie Lipton series by Dan Metcalf, released in conjunction with the British Museum. These are well written little mysteries for growing readers but they have real riddles in them, and activities at the end. I’d love to read one whilst in the British Museum to see if I could follow the trail too. A must for young historians. For new or struggling readers I’m also heartily in favour of the Little Gem series from Barrington Stoke. There are numerous titles by fabulous authors in this list, but recent releases include The Gingerbread Star by Anne Fine, illustrated by Vicki Gausden and Ted Rules the World by Frank Cottrell Boyce, illustrated by Chris Riddell and Cate James. The Gingerbread Star retains the quality of Anne Fine’s longer work, and tells a glorious story of a worm who wishes she was a gloworm (so she can read in bed after lights out). She perseveres yet retains her sense of right and wrong throughout her adventure. Beautifully illustrated too – worms have never been so attractive. Ted Rules the World by high calibre writer Cottrell Boyce also retains the writer’s style – his sense of humour and mischievousness shine through in this hilarious story about a boy whose opinions on politics have a direct line to the prime minister. Far from marking him out as special though, Ted finds that the root cause is rather more uninspiring. It’s extremely funny. This agegroup also adore the Claude series by Alex T Smith, and on the 1st August, the new title is published, Claude: Lights! Camera! Action!. As zany as ever, Claude and Sir Bobblesock discover a film set and when the two lead actors are injured, they are asked to step in. The jokes hit on all levels – both children and adults. And that’s not all…this summer is momentous for the release of the very last Horrid Henry book by Francesca Simon: Horrid Henry’s Cannibal Curse. Although I’ve yet to see a copy of this and hate to review books I haven’t read I’m told it has an answer to the perpetual parental groan that Henry is too horrid…as Henry himself starts to read an interesting book about a girl called Evil Evie…

elspeth hart dara palmerrooftoppersmurder most unladylike
Eight to 13 year olds have a huge choice for their summer reads in this golden age of children’s literature. Firstly, I’d recommend Elspeth Hart and the School for Show-Offs by Sarah Forbes, illustrated by James Brown. The second in the series comes out in September, so wisely use the summer to read the first. It tells the tale of orphan Elspeth, working as a servant in the Pandora Pants School for Show-Offs, sweeping up mouse-droppings, and dodging the horrid students, until one day she realises why she’s there, and how she can escape. Comic fun and a school setting with a feisty heroine. Another show off is the eleven year old main character in Dara Palmer’s Major Drama by Emma Shevah. This is a fantastic story about a young adopted girl who desperately wants to be an actress. The story highlights how, through drama, she becomes more aware of herself and her relationship with her friends and family. Dealing with so many issues, such as adoption, diversity “I looked like a chocolate bunny in a room full of snowmen”, Dara’s voice is fresh, funny, and heartfelt. The massively annotated pages (doodles and patterns) entice the reader, as well as Dara’s imagined film script running parallel to her normal life, but Emma Shevah also deals cleverly with sensitive issues. Both an enjoyable read and an enlightening one (about adoption and different cultures). If your child hasn’t yet read Rooftoppers by Katherine Rundell, then buy it before her new book comes out in September. Rooftoppers tells the story of Sophie’s search for her mother across the roof tops in Paris. Katherine’s gift for storytelling knows no bounds – her writing is exemplary – stylish, fresh, original, and imaginative. It’s a perfect book and I implore you read it, instilling virtues such as love and courage and morality and seeking for the possibles in life. Its timelessness and third person narrative set it apart from other titles for this age group and it is a deserving winner of the Waterstones Children’s and Blue Peter Book awards. For series fans, I would recommend the Wells and Wong Mystery series by Robin Stevens. The first in the series, called Murder Most Unladylike, tells the story of Daisy and Hazel who set up a detective agency at their boarding school to look for missing ties etc, but then discover the body of the Science Mistress lying in the gym, and suddenly have a real mystery to solve. It is Agatha Christie for 9 year olds and over. Robin Stevens captures the innocence and yet vivaciousness of the two girls with all their insecurities and complexities. The book is set in the 1930’s but feels fairly timeless. It’s fun, imaginative, and brilliant for those who love mysteries and school stories. (so most children!). Three in the series have been published so far – an addictive set to devour on the beach, or staring at the rain…once you’ve read one, you’ll want to read them all.

boy in the towerthe executioners daughterbinny for shortphoenix

For slightly older readers, a haunting but utterly absorbing book for those wishing to ignore their family whilst on holiday is Boy in the Tower by Polly Ho-Yen. A modern day Triffids, Ade lives with his mum in a tower block, but one day the other buildings start to fall down. Before long the Bluchers have overtaken the landscape – plants that feed on metal and concrete, and give off deadly spores. Suddenly Ade and his mother are trapped. Ade has to learn to survive, figure out why his tower hasn’t collapsed and help his mother through the situation. It’s a tense, exhilarating read with memorable characters. Other stories for those slightly older are The Executioner’s Daughter by Jane Hardstaff– a historical tale, set in the Tower of London, and focussing on the ‘basket girl’, – the child who catches the beheaded heads in her basket. Never a dull moment in Tudor times – as the tale turns supernatural too. Salter, the loveable boy protagonist, is a sparkling creation. The sequel River Daughter, came out earlier this year. Binny for Short by Hilary McKay swings back to modernity, with a coming-of-age tale of friendship that deals with loss, relocation, family dynamics and special needs all in a highly readable, compelling summertime story. Binny is an all-rounded character, with frustration, humour, sympathy and a fantastic sense of childhood adventure. A great read from a prolific author who can clearly observe and articulate what people are really like. The sequel, Binny in Secret, came out in June. For those approaching teens, Phoenix by SF Said is my final pick. It’s something completely different – science fiction superbly written by Said, and ethereally illustrated by Dave McKean. It’s a powerfully ambitious tale of age-old war between Humans and Aliens. Lucky thinks he is an ordinary human boy, but once he discovers his extraordinary power realises that he must harness it to save the galaxy, even if it comes at huge personal cost. Bixa, the alien girl who gets mixed up in his story, is one of the most awe-inspiring characters in children’s fiction: fierce, magnetic and witty. I would definitely choose to dress up as Bixa on World Book Day if I were younger. This book is quite unlike any other in its age range – an epic with clear language, scintillating scenes and huge themes of power and myth, the universe and love, war and sacrifice. It will stay with you long after the summer fades.

Lastly, if you haven’t yet worked through my books of the week from this year, my most memorable reads were Stonebird by Mike Revell, The Dreamsnatcher by Abi Elphinstone, The Wild Beyond by Piers Torday and In Darkling Wood by Emma Carroll.