Surprising numbers of children have eaten dog food.
This was the unexpected finding of my first bookshop signing. Determined to have plenty of interesting things for kids t
o do (and to avoid ending up behind a table bleating “Please buy my book!”) I had compiled a quiz on childhood misdoings. A sort of survey, if you like. As the heroine of my book, Martha, is a real “little stinker” I thought it would be fun to find out how many other little stinkers there are out there. So I compiled a list and handed it out.
Well, it turned out they were a pretty well-behaved bunch in Waterstone’s. However much they enjoyed reading about naughty characters, and chuckling at their exploits (they were good enough to chuckle loudly at 
Martha’s) they scored low on the naughtiness index. A more polite, obedient, considerate bunch I have seldom met. Maybe this is a sign that reading books makes for a well-behaved child? (And is yet one more reason to reverse those library cuts?)
Except when it came to eating dog food. Then it was a different story.
A little girl came up to me. Did cat food count, she wanted to know?
Certainly, I replied.
Include cat food, and everyone seemed to have tucked into their pet’s dinner, one time or another. One parent revealed that the family cat could only be fed when her son was elsewhere; another waxed nostalgic about the childhood joys of nibbling Whiskas.
Hmm. I grew up with a family dog – and somehow I never once felt like sharing his supper.
Anyhow, it certainly broke the ice, and the signing went with a swing. There were ups and downs, of course. I had brought too few colouring sheets. A friend of mine went dashing onto the street in search of photocopiers: thank you, Thomas Cook, who gallantly responded to his plea and ran off extra copies! Thank you everyone who did so much to help in different ways.
So here you go (be honest now):
- Have you ever flushed your sister’s homework down the toilet?
- Have you sneaked food from fridge, cupboard or biscuit tin?
- Have you ever tried to sell your brother?
- Have you eaten dog food?
- Have you ever made a cake from dog food and served it to your family?
I’m glad to reveal that nobody said “Yes” to the last one. It wasn’t one of Martha’s misdeeds either. It was my sister.
Yes, I remember it
well.
Read about Martha's exploits in How (Not) To Make Bad Children GoodCheck out Emma's web-siteFollow Emma on facebookFollow Emma on twitter - Emm
I love writing about naughty children. I loved reading about their exploits as a child – whether it was Anne of Green Gables walking the roof-pole, Daisy Bagthorpe setting fire to the dining-room, or Laura Ingalls giving her prissy sister a good slap. So naturally I wanted to create my own fictional little demon.
But writing about naughty children is harder than it looks. Too wild – and the adult world of parents and schools will be down upon you. Too tame – and your readers will lose interest. And unfortunately that balance is harder to find now than it has ever been.
How so, I hear you say. Isn’t children’s literature more embracing, and less preachy, than it has ever been?
Not really. Just look at this example:
A boy keeps kicking footballs over the garden fence. His crusty neighbour refuses to give them back. So that night he dons a mask, and breaks into her house. He finds the ball in her living-room, and when she comes into the room, he pretends to have a gun and threaten her, thus making his escape. She reports the incident to the police – exaggerating the circumstances – and he blackmails her into never keeping his ball again.
Which child is this? Horrid Henry or Dirty Bertie? No. This school boy rogue is Just William. First appearing in print in the 1930s, naughty William is able to do things that no contemporary child hero would be able to get away with. (Leading a gang, and regularly setting fire to things, being two others I can think of.) Naughty William may still be in print – but only because he is so wrapped around in the glow of nostalgia. Otherwise, just imagine the outcry!
For all the talk about liberal parenting, and “anything goes”, it just ain’t so. Most modern
children do not go far afield compared to previous generations; they do very little without adult supervision. And horror of children running amok will be even greater after the recent riots. If you want to write about a contemporary child is a realistic setting you have to take this into account.
And yet every new generation needs new anti-heroes. They need to see child heroes push the boundaries – if only in fantasy-land. It’s an form of escape. And it’s good fun.
So, how to make it work? Here are some thoughts – using as examples some wonderful, classic anti-heroes.
1) Keep the protagonist young. Younger children have the “Get Out of Jail Free” Card in that they can’t be blamed. Judy Blume’s Fudge falls into this category. When he eats his older brother’s pet turtle, it’s OK, because he really doesn’t know any better.
2) Keep it to home and school.<
BAD CHILDREN, GRUMPY ANGELS AND INTERSTELLAR AGENCIES: Emma Barnes chats with Luke Perrell-Williams, one of the first readers of her forthcoming book How (not) To Make Bad Children Good.
One problem for a children’s author working on a new story is that niggling question of how to know whether any actual real, live, breathing children – today’s children – are going to enjoy the result. Nearing the end of her latest book How (not) To Make Bad Children Good , and afflicted by writerly doubt, caffeine overload and incipient RSI in every limb, Emma Barnes decided to find out what some real children thought about her latest draft. Chief among her literary critics were the book-worms that lived just down the road, and here she chats with one of them, Luke Perrell-Williams.
Emma: Luke, you were the oldest of my child readers: you love reading, and you write your own books blog. What kind of books do you like reading now?
Luke: I’m very fond of sci-fi and fantasy books. One of my favourite types of books are when they get old myths and add modern twists, like the Percy Jackson series.
Emma: Did How (not) remind you of other books you read when you were younger?
Luke: Not particularly – there are lots of books with naughty main characters but I haven’t read one with an angel reforming them before! Why did you choose to write about a Guardian Angel and a bad child?
Emma: Writing about naughty main characters is always fun. But they need to have a foil. And for a long, long time I had the idea in my head for a Guardian Angel character. Only my Guardian Angel wasn’t going to be patient and kind, the way you expect Guardian Angels to be. He was a Guardian Angel with flaws: he was often grumpy, and didn’t even like children that much. Also, although he is convinced he knows best sometimes he doesn’t! He is often out-witted too.
When I was a child I had a very old book with some Guardian Angel stories in it, and although I loved it, I couldn’t help wondering if a real child would always be as biddable and grateful for their Guardian’s guidance as the stories suggested. After all it’s not always that straightforward, how to be good, and I thought a truly sparky child would point this out.
Luke: When we read the early draft, he was definitely an Angel, but then he became an Interstellar Agent. Why is that?
Emma: It was fun to bring him up-to-date, with all kinds of technological gizmos. Also there are strong religious connotations to angels, but I was setting out to write a funny book, not a religious one, and didn’t want to give the wrong impression.
Luke: What or who inspired the characters in the book? Do any of the characters exist in real life?
Emma: I have never met an Interstellar Agent called Fred, with the job of sorting out bad children and making them good! Although maybe on a bad day I am a bit like Fred. I think all parents are. We like to present ourselves to our children as wise and all-knowing but they soon work out that we are as full of inconsistencies as everyone else. And that it’s often a case of “do as I say, not as I do”!
As for Martha – she appeared in my head fully formed. She certainly isn’t me. She’s too fierce and feisty. However, whe
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o do (and to avoid ending up behind a table bleating “Please buy my book!”) I had compiled a quiz on childhood misdoings. A sort of survey, if you like. As the heroine of my book, Martha, is a real “little stinker” I thought it would be fun to find out how many other little stinkers there are out there. So I compiled a list and handed it out.
Martha’s) they scored low on the naughtiness index. A more polite, obedient, considerate bunch I have seldom met. Maybe this is a sign that reading books makes for a well-behaved child? (And is yet one more reason to reverse those library cuts?)
Many years ago, my grandmother caught me sharing the dog's 'scraps'. No obvious ill effects.
Your event sounds like great fun. I was the shy quiet girl at school but I was always best friends with the naughty daredevils (still am). I never exactly sold my brother - it was more like an extreme swap!!
I ate cat food. I decided the cat was more interesting than my baby brother so I would be a cat, thank you. I ate his food, I balanced on dangerous ledges he walked along (with some ill effects) and tried to go in and out through the cat flap.
Some years ago I worked in Child Protection. Met a woman who, as a child, had looked after the family from the age of 11 - and was abused by her father. She regularly made him stews of dog food, the only way she could think of to get back at him.
She was now a wonderful, feisty, woman!
An "extreme swap" Lynda...I must remember that handy euphemism.
Love the idea of small child wedged in cat flap, Stroppy!
Ah well, we seem to have survived. And maybe those meaty chunks did us good.
Sounds like a great idea to make a signing more entertaining!
They were pink. And intended for a corgi. So I don't think it really counts. Besides, I only ate 3. And I didn't even touch the green ones. I mean, that would be totally disgusting.
We have a small-dog flap, and grandson Max loves using it, though at almost 4 he's getting a bit big for it.
I ate dog chocs when I was a kid, when there was nothing more interesting in the cupboard. I can still remember the way they didn't melt properly, but lay claggily against my tongue. It was the only time I ate them. I've never been a great one for any kind of tinned meat, so dog-food wouldn't appeal. And I loathe offal.
My bruv and I 'stole' (my parents' word) food from the larder, raisins, and so on, and were regularly called to account, with great severity.
I always told my own kids they were welcome to help themselves if they were hungry, especially when they'd just come home from school. They have both turned into extremely slim adults.
Me and my sister tried dog choc drops once when we were desperate for a chocolate fix. Taste of nothing although smell good. Otherwise we led boringly blameless lives.
I do stilll occasionally try the wippitties biscuits to see what they're like. And I have a really good recipe for peanut butter oatie doggy crunchies that taste much better than the usual commercial jobbies ... feel free to pop round for coffee and cookies if you're in the area and want to relive a misspent yoof ...
Dog choc drops...they have a very particular kind of smell...
Neat idea for a book signing. I think you were wise to have yes/no questions - open-ended on something like "what's the most revolting thing you've ever eaten?" could have been just a little bit too much info...
By the way, How To Make Bad Children Good is an excellent book! I have just finished reading my copy of it and it cheered a weary evening. Book soon to be on on its way to seven-year old Daisy.