I’m always surprised when people compare my books to those by other authors. Not because I think I’m so dazzlingly original (in fact, when I go into schools, my answer to that question “But how do you get ideas?” is usually “I get ideas because over the years I’ve read a lot of books!”) but because the comparisons aren’t usually the authors or books I would have thought of. So when somebody mentioned to me that Wild Thing reminded them of Dorothy Hughes’s classic My Naughty Little Sister stories, first I was surprised, then I thought it was time to dig out a copy and see for myself.
My Naughty Little Sister was first written for BBC Radio’s Children Hour. Perhaps this is why they are such wonderful read-alouds. I’ve heard some adults claim that the strong narrative voice is rather too cosy ("And what do you think My Naughty Little Sister did next...") and therefore annoying. Personally, I think this is what makes the stories so perfect for young children, guiding them through the stories (I’d recommend My Naughty Little Sister as a first read-aloud when moving onto chapter books). But then I do like a strong narrative voice (the Narnia books are another example where some find the narrator intrusive, but I find it confiding, and entertaining). There is a lovely nostalgia about My Naughty Little Sister, too. I think this is because not only do the stories now seem very quaint and long-ago, but even when Dorothy Edwards was writing them she was remembering a past time (her own childhood, and her own naughty little sister). So such details as washing day are lovingly portrayed, in a way they maybe wouldn’t be if they were contemporary to the reader, and therefore taken for granted. (In this way they remind me a little of Laura Ingall’s Wilder’s Little House books, in capturing the domestic details of a distant time.) I’m also envious, not only of the apparent safety of that long ago time, but also the freedom it gives a writer to give her child character adventures. My Naughty Little Sister is only four, but she can go on a train ride all by herself (with only the guard to keep an occasional eye on her). She can also travel from home under her own steam, and at one point is sent spontaneously to spend a day with her older sister at school. How much harder to construct real-life adventures now that young children always have to be supervised! Most all, though, the charm of the stories is in the character of My Naughty Little Sister herself. The stories may feel old fashioned, but they are never preachy or moralistic. My Naughty Little Sister thinks for herself. If the family has to look after a baby for the day, she really doesn’t see why she should pretend to like babies, just because it’s the done thing. And she makes friends with all kinds of unlikely people, grown up or child, because she responds to them honestly and directly. Her character, I think, is brilliantly portrayed in the illustrations by Shirley Hughes. So, even if I still don’t get the comparison with my own books, I certainly feel the compliment! And if you’re looking to escape into a young child’s world, in a gentler, cosier time, I’d recommend My Naughty Little Sister. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emma's new series for 8+
Wild Thing about the naughtiest little sister ever (and her bottom-biting ways) is out now from Scholastic.
"Hilarious and heart-warming" The Scotsman
Wolfie is published by Strident.
Sometimes a Girl’s Best Friend is…a Wolf. "A real cracker of a book"
Armadillo "Funny, clever and satisfying...thoroughly recommended"
Books for KeepsEmma's
WebsiteEmma’s
Facebook FanpageEmma on Twitter - @EmmaBarnesWrite
|
A favourite bottom book! |
|
And another! |
I’ve jumped onto the bottom bandwagon!
I didn’t meant to. I didn’t consciously set out to write a book featuring bottoms. It was only
when Penny Dolan wrote that
Wild Thing was “much more than a book that gets 8 year-old children laughing because they enjoy reading about rude words” that I realized what I’d done. I, too, had written a book featuring children's fascination with their nether regions.
It’s not exactly an untapped theme in children’s literature. (In modern times, anyway – you won’t find Jo March, Anne of Green Gables or even Just William having much to say about posteriors.) But whether it’s Nicholas Allen’s delightful
Cinderella’s Bum or the famously scatological
The Little Mole Who Thought It Was None Of His Business, there’s a whole branch of kids’ books about rear ends and what comes out of them. In fact when I (rather bravely) did some googling, I was stunned to find out just how many titles there were.
I suppose the whole bottom thing can be seen as a cynical ploy. If you want to get children laughing, then “rude words” as Penny implies, are a good way to do it. This wasn’t really on my mind, though. The truth is, having spent the last several years in close contact with young children, I’ve been forcibly reminded how fascinating all things bum and poo –related are to them. I’ve walked behind four year olds whose only obsession is with spotting possible dog poo – and not to avoid standing in it, but out of pure fascination with the subject. “No, that’s only a dead leaf,” I’ve said wearily, more times than I can remember.
So it’s not surprising the theme cropped up in Wild Thing, which is at heart a realistic, family story. The subject first arises when an inadvertent slip of the tongue by Gran allows five year old Wild Thing to get going on a favourite subject.
“Gran said bottom!” “No, she didn’t.” “Yes, she did.” Wild Thing grinned. “A butt is a bottom.You’ve got a big butt!” She pointed at me. “And Gran’s got a wrinkly one!” Then she danced off across the garden, shouting, “BUTT! BEHIND! BOTTOM! BUM!” at the top of her voice. She almost crashed into a tree. |
Wild Thing waggles her bum (Jamie Littler illustrator) |
The incident leads to a wild chase and the invention of the Bite the Bottom game – yet another source of daily embarrassment for poor older sister Kate! When I’ve read the passage aloud in schools, the effect has been electrifying. On the occasion where I had a staff member “signing” the bottom-biting scene (and giving a fine theatrical performance of the bottom-chomping incident) I thought everyone was going to be reduced to a dangerous level of hysteria.
It’s true, folks. Rude bits really do make them laugh.
|
In school...the arrow fittingly pointing at a certain place! |
Grown-ups can be a bit sniffy, I suppose, and feel that the whole bottom thing is crude, overdone, and playing to the crowd. But then children feel much the same about adult interests. Remember
The Princess Bride and the little boy recoiling from the sloppy bits – “Yuk kissing!” Anyone who has watched TV with a child will recognize that response. (It’s also beautifully captured in Judith Viorst’s classic picture book,
Alexander’s Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day – where the kissing on TV is almost as bad as the lima beans for dinner.)
So let’s allow children their interests, just as adults are allowed theirs. After all, for the average five year old, toilet training and bed wetting are still very immediate issues, and getting oneself to the toilet on time can be a source of pride (or sometimes an embarrassing failure). Adults take all this for granted – although actually, of course, many adults, especially in later life, don’t. Sadly, it often becomes a source of shame and embarrassment again, with many incontinent adults suffering in silence. So if children can openly laugh and celebrate all things rear-end, then let’s embrace that! Humour,
as a recent ABBA poster pointed out, is also a way of dealing with things that trouble us.
So Bottoms Up, folks! And why not nominate your own favourite rude title?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emma's new book,
Wild Thing, about the naughtiest little sister ever (and her bottom-biting ways), is out now from Scholastic. It is the first of a series for readers 8+.
"Hilarious and heart-warming" The Scotsman
"Charming modern version of My Naughty Little Sister" Armadillo Mag
Wolfie is published by Strident.
Sometimes a Girl’s Best Friend is…a Wolf. "A real cracker of a book"
Armadillo "Funny, clever and satisfying...thoroughly recommended"
Books for Keeps"This delightful story is an ideal mix of love and loyalty, stirred together with a little magic and fantasy"
Carousel Emma's
WebsiteEmma’s
Facebook FanpageEmma on Twitter - @EmmaBarnesWrite
In October 2012, my agent forwarded me this wonderful, shiny, hand-made, sticker-covered guitar. It was part of the offer she had just received from Scholastic to publish my book,
Wild Thing.
I was thrilled. I had first dreamt up Wild Thing in the Spring of 2010, and I had poured a lot of energy, enthusiasm and sheer hard work into that book. I was delighted it had found a home.
I was also immensely touched that the editorial department had come up with such a lovely way of offering for the book. I reckoned they must really like it (either that or it had been a really slow day in the editorial department).
In fact they
did like it, because not only had they offered for Wild Thing, but for two sequels too. I had been commissioned to write a series! At that moment, one of my writing ambitions came true. I’ve wanted to write a series for a while. I think that’s what children like reading (I certainly did) and besides, having invented Wild Thing, older sister Kate and their crazy world, I didn’t want to leave them behind.
|
The first book: out now |
It was intimidating though. Suddenly I didn’t just have one deadline, I had a raft of them. The next eighteen months were all mapped out with writing, delivering and editing Books One, Two and Three.
As I near the end of that process (Wild Thing was published last month, the third Wild Thing book is now in its final stages) I can say it’s been breathless, but great fun. If I was nervous about sustaining the characters through three adventures, I needn’t have been. The second book almost wrote itself.
Perhaps this was not surprising – by now I understood the characters so well.
(I also had the helpful guidance of my editors. They pointed up the importance of reintroducing the characters at the start of each book for readers new to the series.)
So what is it that allows a book to become a series? Wild Thing is pitched for 8+, and is the story of two sisters and their somewhat chaotic lives and adventures. I suppose in publishing terms it fits in with many of the other character-led series for this age group. That also means it's got some very impressive competition!
What most of these series have in common is a real-life setting and fairly everyday adventures: which means that the characters have to be strong enough and distinctive enough to sustain the series.
In my case, the main characters are two sisters. Kate, the elder is fairly sensible. She is driven to distraction by the exploits of her little sister Josephine (aka Wild Thing) who is only five and not sensible at all.
"Why can't we send Wild Thing to prison, though?" I said to Dad.Dad laughed. "I thought you wanted to sell her." I found I understood those sisters pretty well. Perhaps that’s not surprising. I’m an elder sister myself.
|
Kate and Wild Thing |
Sibling relationships are one of the universal themes of childhood, but other aspects of Wild Thing are more unusual. An older child writing about a much younger child is unusual but also risky – because the common wisdom is that children prefer reading about characters older than themselves.
Maybe so. But one of the things I’ve enjoyed about the series is that a younger child (Wild Thing is five) can get away with more than an older child can. It’s great fun writing about someone who can say and do what she likes. I hope that the readers will share that same vicarious pleasure.
Also, not many children are being brought up by a single parent rock guitarist dad. But again, that works for the series. A musician can be around in his children’s lives, but also absent (and absent-minded) and all kinds of chaos can ensue.
The real test though is what happens when the books reach the readers’ hands. Does it speak to them? That’s something that will take a while to discover.
What do you think makes for a successful series?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emma's new book,
Wild Thing, about the naughtiest little sister ever, is out now from Scholastic. It is the first of a series for readers 8+.
Wolfie is published by Strident.
Sometimes a Girl’s Best Friend is…a Wolf. "A real cracker of a book"
Armadillo "Funny, clever and satisfying...thoroughly recommended"
Books for Keeps - Book of the Week "This delightful story is an ideal mix of love and loyalty, stirred together with a little magic and fantasy"
Carousel Emma's
WebsiteEmma’s
Facebook FanpageEmma on Twitter - @EmmaBarnesWrite
Last weekend I went to see Swallows and Amazons. It’s a musical version, currently touring theatres across the country, and probably the best children’s show I’ve ever seen.
As well as being funny, clever and moving, having a great story and songs which are still going round and round my head, it was also thought-provoking. John, Susan, Titty and Roger are – wait for it – twelve, eleven, nine and seven (and the seven-year-old can’t swim) when they are set loose on their yacht, unaccompanied, to sail and camp around a Cumbrian lake.
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 to 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.<
Interestingly Kate Adie (yes the frontline reporter) was on "I've Never Seen Star Wars" BBC Radio 4 yesterday evening reading exactly this book.
She remarked, and I agree with her, that it was, even back then, a fantasy to which children were meant to aspire and that even having such adventures in their minds was the liberation needed.
I grew up in the country a long time ago and had some of the Swallows and Amazons freedom. I feel so sorry for youngsters today who cannot go anywhere alone or be given their longed-for autonomy.
I grew up first in the country, then in the city and then back to the country. Even as pre-schoolers we roamed in the country. (I lived in what you in the UK would call a "village". Everyone knew us. The traffic was light enough not to be a danger. I pedalled everywhere on my tricycle. Even in the city I pedalled my way to and from school and around the local district. My brother and I went to the beach alone - allowed to go into the water as high as our knees. Back in the country we would disappear at daybreak with sandwiches and bottles of water (and often a book) and come back when it was dark. All the local children did the same thing.
We liked Elinor Lyon's books more than Arthur Ransome's though - her children were much more like us!
My kids grew up on the outskirts of Cambridge. They had a boat, and were allowed to go on adventures on the river as long as I was in the rough vicinity. They cycled to friends' houses alone. This is in the early years of this century - it's still possible. It's parental fear rather than real danger that hobbles children. In fact, mobile phones should help to allay those fears. My kids could take their boat out because I was up-river with a phone. They could cycle to friends' houses because they could phone when they got there.
It's true that children's lives are but a shadow of what they used to be. I think this is mainly due to the ridiculous tabloid hysteria surrounding alleged paedophiles some ten years ago - and that was mainly to sell newspapers.
I used to walk into town unaccompanied all the time from the age of 8 to pick up my Beano (about 10p in those days, not a couple of quid like now) and back - and, even if I had been offered a sweetie or the chance to go to see some puppies back at the house of a moustached man in an Austin Allegro, I would have known not to thanks to a ginger cat voiced by Kenny Everett!
I also was lucky enough to have lots of freedom. I remember wandering round Belfast by myself, visiting the libary, the newly opened Museum, and my favourite bookshop in the town centre at the age of 10 or 11. If you got lost you just asked someone to tell you the way. More often than not they'd take you all the way there.
And I suspect that a modern day Just William would either be in care or Borstal.
Thanks everyone for your comments, and apologies that a virus on my computer led to such a long delay in replying.
Some lovely memories of country childhoods! Cat - was Elinor Lyon "The Children Who Lived in a Barn" - I remember that, although I preferred Enid Blyton's Secret Island - the Barn children did too much (very realistic) scrubbing and cooking for my escapist tastes.
Stroppy and Richie - I agree a lot of the dangers are in people's heads, but traffic isn't, unfortunately. And it's probably more of a blight on country roads - cars racing down winding lanes are a real danger to child cyclists - than it is even in towns. But yes, children should be allowed to take more risks...only it's hard when the whole culture now is so set against it.