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Wednesday, 22 February 2023

The Great Roald Dahl Debate

 

Roald Dahl is in the news. Even people who generally have no interest at all in children’s books have noticed. Just in case this has passed you by or you’re reading some time in the future when the whole five-minute furore is in the past, here’s a quick summary:

Roald Dahl’s books are being rereleased with edits intended to make them more acceptable to a modern audience. The reactions – from all sorts of people, including Philip Pullman and the Prime Minister – have varied from ‘You must never touch a word of a writer’s published work’ to ‘Fantastic, now children will not be exposed to Dahl's racism, body-shaming, misogyny, etc’ and ‘Couldn’t they just publish the originals with footnotes and an introduction?’ There has also been ‘Why bother? There’s nothing special about Dahl.’

Should they meddle with an author’s work? I see no reason why not. The author is dead so has nothing to say about it. His estate is perfectly happy with the changes (and the financial reward). It’s nothing new. Children’s books have been published in updated versions forever. Netflix has acquired the rights to Dahl’s work. Of course they want to make money from the books. Their press-release called the books ‘Timeless Tales’. It’s probably impossible to make a book timeless, but here they are, making them up-to-date.

I enjoyed Dahl’s books as a child. My now grown-up children liked Dahl. The BFG is my favourite. They liked Danny the Champion of the World and Matilda. They adored The Enormous Crocodile. I do not remember finding anything particularly uncomfortable in Dahl as a child. It fitted with the cartoons and sitcoms I watched on TV. But the world has moved on. We do not offer children cruelty and othering and call it humour. (Well mostly we don’t.) Toning down these aspects of Dahl will make his work fit our twenty-first century children’s book model better.

Could the publishers have added footnotes and an introduction instead? Of course they could have. And if parents or teachers were reading the books to children, these things would have been discussed, no doubt, though quite probably a parent or teacher might have commented or changed words and ideas that troubled them as they read the old versions. But here’s the thing: most children would not read footnotes or an introduction. And if they did, they would be drawn out of the story, which is something you really don’t want to do to child readers.

The good thing about Dahl is that children want to read his books. The books have bold, lively heroes and memorable baddies, shocking disasters and soaring triumphs. Children are dying to turn the pages and find out what happens. When they’ve finished one of Dahl’s books, they feel satisfied by the story and they want to pick up another. This is how children develop reading fluency – by finding books that they don’t want to put down. When my eldest daughter was six, she brought home from the school bookfair two of the Rainbow Fairy books. She wasn’t a fluent reader at the time so I read the first one to her. The second one she read a page and then I read a page. She loved those books. I found them plodding and predictable. So when I discovered that she’d bought a pack of five of them with a book token I refused to read them. She took a week to read the next one on her own. Then two days for the next one. Then one a day until she’d read them all. I’m not going to argue for the Rainbow Fairy books’ place in the canon of children’s literature, but they have a purpose and they serve it well. They can turn children into readers. And so can Dahl.

But here’s the thing. So can many other books. New books, books with modern ideas, diverse characters, current language. Books that take place in a world today’s children recognise and engage with problems, ideas and circumstances that concern them. And no, I don’t just mean issue-driven books set in a contemporary world. Fantasy, historical, sci-fi, humour – all sorts of stories are different today.

That’s not to say that children shouldn’t read children’s books from the past. I would never say that! So many wonderful, brilliant books full of amazing stories exist for children to find and adults to share with them. Children need choice just like adults do – more so, because they’re still working out what types of books suit them.

The problem with children’s books is – as it ever was – that the books are bought by adults on the whole. Adults who don’t know anything about children’s books will go for the easy option – the book they recognise from their childhood, the book by that famous bloke off the TV. And the marketing people recognise this, so they push those books. It’s an obvious win. You own a property. There’s an easy market for it. The cost to the publisher is minimal. You just change the covers, print a bunch more and there they are on the shelf looking fresh and new. If you wander into WHSmith you won’t see a shelf full of books by a single author that are 40, 50 or 60 years old in the adult section. But there in the children’s section is a whole shelf of Dahl … and another of Enid Blyton (who has undergone her own modernisation more than once). And it’s not just bookshops. A lot of school libraries rely heavily on books donated when children have grown out of them. Their shelves are groaning under the weight of Dahl.

So here’s what I think. If we have to have Dahl, let’s have updated Dahl. But let’s have lots of exciting new books front and centre too. Please, marketing people, think about how you are serving the children who learning to be readers when you constantly cash in on old books. Concentrate instead on what would serve them best in their journey to becoming readers and then work out how to market those books to the adults who buy books. Give children choice.


*Please note that this piece is my personal view.



While you're here, do take a look at my gorgeous book, Snippets.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook


Wednesday, 28 September 2022

Writing Diary: September 2022

 


I’ve been writing a time-travel story.

Ah! you say. Science fiction.

But is it?


I’d say there’s not so very much distance between the type of world-building I’m doing around time travel in this book and the world-building I did when I was writing about a family of witches.

It’s about creating a system that the reader can believe in.

I did spend some time reading some science about time travel. It’s very complicated and my understanding is totally superficial, but what I gleaned is this: time travel is probably impossible and even if it were possible (which would take unfathomable amounts of energy), you’d only be able to travel into the past and you couldn’t return.

No one has yet settled on one definition of science fiction (or indeed any other genre) but most interested parties agree that the science involved should be a possible development of actual known science and that you can’t ignore established science unless you can work out how to explain it. By these parameters, my book is far from science fiction.

I read a LOT of time travel in preparation for writing this book. There are books which are very sciency; there are books that are not sciency at all; there are books somewhere in between. I love them all. The idea of time travel thrills me.

If I were forced to pigeonhole my book, I’d say it is fantasy. Can I call it science fantasy?


So.

Time-travel world-building turns out to be very complicated.

You need a means of time travel: a machine or a portal. It could be something that’s been created for the purpose (or for another purpose with time travel as a side-effect) – that’s a more sciency sort of time travel. Or it could be some mysterious or magic process – that’s fantasy.


Then there are the rules:

How does time spent in the past or future relate to time in the present? Are they equivalent?

Is it possible to communicate with people from your own time?

Can you change the past? What happens if you do?

If you can’t change the past, how does it feel to be in it?

Can you meet yourself in a different time?

What happens if you die in the past?

Can you bring objects from one time to another?

How does it feel to time travel? What happens to your body?

Is it a secret? Why? Whose secret is it? What will happen if people find out?


In a well-written time travel story, in fact in any well-written story with complex world-building, information and rules are fed into the story at such a pace as not to overwhelm the reader. But writing complex worlds is a different matter. There are so many questions to be answered, so many decisions to be made, and it’s really useful to have the majority of them sorted at a very early stage.


But in the end, you also have to keep in mind that however elaborate and fascinating your world-building is, no matter how key it is to the plot, it’s never going to satisfy your readers without a great human story at the heart of your novel.




My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook

Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.


Sunday, 31 July 2022

Writing Diary: July

 


This month I left my agent. We’ve done some good work together but the relationship didn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, so it’s time to find a new champion.

Submitting to agents is one of the less fun parts of being a writer but I think I’m better at it than I was. For one thing, I have more knowledge about what an agent is looking for, which helps me to shape my approach letter. Secondly, I feel more in charge than I used to. True, an agent is one of those ‘gatekeepers’ that the industry talks about all the time. You (mostly) need one to get your book on the road to being published. But agents need authors. They need books, they need ideas, they need talent. A great agent may be looking for specific books that they know they can sell, but they’re also going to be keeping an eye out for an idea that comes at them from out of the blue. Some agent out there is looking for me.

So I write my letters. I read up on various agents to find ones who seem to be interested in books like mine, who have profiles that appeal to me, whose Twitter feed I enjoy, who I’ve come across personally or know of through friends. I tailor my submissions to whatever their particular format is (they’re all different: 3 chapters/5,000 words/10 pages; attachment/body of email; synopsis of 1 page/500 words/300 words; blurb; list of published works). I think carefully about why I’ve picked this particular agent and craft a charming sentence at the end to make it personal.

It's kind of like internet dating…

So now I’m thinking, if it’s like dating, I ought to be compiling my own list of what I’m looking for in an agent. So here it is:

1. Someone who is a champion of my work, who loves what I’ve written and is certain that publishers and readers will love it too.

2. Someone who is interested in my whole career, not just this one book:

• who will consider all the manuscripts I have written and discuss with me whether they’re worth spending more time on.
• who will guide me when I start out on a new project.
• who will bring me ideas that they think would be sellable.

3. Someone who will take on both my fiction and my nonfiction.

4. Someone who will give me brilliant editorial feedback that will help me improve my work.

5. Someone who will reply to messages from me promptly and check in on me regularly.

6. Someone who knows how to read what’s going on in the industry and how to get the best deal for me (and themselves).

7. Someone who is professional and but also feels like a supportive friend.

So now I wait. Between 4 and 16 weeks, so the submissions pages on their websites say. I could do more submissions but I think I’ll wait and see what comes of this batch of five. Maybe I’ll decide my letters need tweaking. Or my synopsis. Maybe all five will want to see my book. That would be interesting. Maybe I’ll have a meeting with more than one agent and I can use my list to interview them for the job of Best Possible Agent for Me.

Watch this space.




My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook

Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.


Tuesday, 12 July 2022

I dream of ... a library

 

I was recently doing a writing exercise about things I hoped and dreamed about when I was a child and how I felt about those hopes and dreams now. One dream was that I wanted to be a writer. Tick, done that. I dreamed of having a dog. Yup, done that, and I was right – it’s the best. I dreamed of owning a huge gothic house with a morning room and a drawing room and secret passages and servants’ quarters and many bedrooms called things like ‘the rose room’ and ‘the lilac room’. I don’t think that would suit me particularly now – too much cleaning, too many decisions about decorating and I bet the plumbing would be no good. Oh how the practicality of middle age stomps upon the fantasies of childhood!

One dream I held onto longer than most was the dream of having a library. You know, one of those that you see in movies, with books around every wall and a library ladder (I adored the scene in Bednobs and Broomsticks when Miss Price is up the library ladder looking for a particular magic book and the guy – forget his name – is pushing her around and singing). I was entranced by the idea of floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with books, ideally all hardback because if you could, why wouldn’t you? There’d be big comfortable chairs everywhere, the kind you can curl up in, one by a wide light window at one end and another by a grand fireplace. A sofa too, long enough to lie down on, not too firm. There’d be a table or a desk. Nowadays, I’d have to add in good reading lights all over the place, of course. I loved it when I visited grand houses open to the public and went into a library where books with leather covers and gold writing were housed behind glass doors. Yes, I thought. That’s the dream.

And now? I have a lot of books in my house. Being surrounded by books makes me comfortable. When we first moved here, for years some of my books were in boxes and I can honestly say that I never felt more at home than when at last we had enough bookshelves for all my books. There are bookshelves in every room here apart from the bathrooms. Some of the books I have had for a long time. Some are just passing through. When I finish reading a book, sometimes I find a place for it on the shelf, sometimes I put it straight in a bag for charity. It’s not necessarily about whether I’m going to read it again or whether I’m going to lend it to anyone. I keep books because they’re beautiful, because they were given to me by particular people, because I think they have some kind of importance, because they’re part of a set. If the decision’s not clearcut, I keep them. They may go in a cull later on.

A cull? Yes. In an ideal world, my bookshelves would not be packed floor to ceiling. There’d be a little room here and there, a space to welcome more. And to achieve that, not only do I give away the books I’m not going to read again, but I also have to be ruthless about weeding. It’s those ones I wasn’t sure about in the first place that go first, along with the ones my husband hasn’t actually thought about (he wants to keep everything, as though our bookshelves were infinitely expanding). Then I have to think about the rest. Sometimes something I’ve kept for years suddenly becomes dispensable. Occasionally I discover a space where I can fit new bookshelves and then, for a while, all the books can breathe and settle because there’ll be no need to cull for a while.

So would I like to have a library? Yes. I love the idea of a big room – both light and cosy – where I would be surrounded by books. It would be full of books I value for one reason or another and I would know just where to lay my hands on any particular book. But they wouldn’t be packed tight; there would always be space for more. The more I think about it, the more I think that it wouldn’t just be a library, this room. It would have to be my living room because why would you want to go anywhere else? (Do I put a TV in this fantasy library? Depends on how many other rooms I’ve got in the fantasy house.)





My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook

Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.


Thursday, 30 June 2022

Writing Diary: June


I wish I could harness the flavour of energy I give to my garden in my writing. Both require a combination of knowledge, creative flair and work. In both, you’re working within boundaries: your soil, climate, aspect; form, audience. Both throw up frustrating challenges that set you off course: slugs, frost, disease, inexplicable death; blocks, lack of break-through, poor sales, lack of focus. Both require bouts of solid toil and constant tinkering.

I came to gardening gradually. It was no great passion at first. I had a flat; it had a garden. Gardening was part of doing up the flat, then it was part of the housework. But it grew on me. We moved to the country and rented a house which had been a farmworker’s cottage. No one had ever done anything to the garden that cost any money. There was grass; there were damson trees. We rotavated, grew vegetables, put up playthings for the kids. I grew things in pots, things I could move to a house that we owned. Then we bought the house. The following spring we planted tiny sticks that would become a hedge and little bendy trees. Gradually, gradually over the years, I’ve dug beds, added more trees, put in a patio and paths.

I find it quite easy to take the things that don’t work out in my garden with equanimity. Lovingly nurtured seedlings chewed to nothing by slugs overnight: oh, well, start again with something slugs like less. Camelia not quite the right colour when it finally comes into bloom: no problem, wait until autumn and move it. I can look at my garden with pleasure even while assessing all its imperfections. When a combination of plants turns out to be just right, I’m thrilled. When something’s less than perfect, I look at it calmly and I make a plan. When something’s coming on slowly, I enjoy the suspense. I don’t care that it’s never going to be a show garden. It’s mine, I made it and I love it all.

Writing isn’t like that for me. I’m after perfection and I want it right now. When something isn’t working right I worry about it, I lie awake trying to puzzle it out. I’m reluctant to give up on things that may not be working because it seems like a waste of my previous work. I can’t be calm about it. I want to get to the end and then I want other people to see what I’ve done and think it’s fabulous.

Maybe that’s the difference. I’m treating my writing like a show garden. I want it to be perfect and weed-free with everything in the right position, perfectly in bloom. I want it to be finished. A real garden is never finished and so there’s no pressure in it. I don’t want to write with no end in view the way I garden – I’m always going to aim to finish a book and have it enthusiastically received by an audience. However, I’d like a little more of my mellow gardening energy to feed into my writing – embracing the puzzles and the setbacks, calmly setting about working out how to improve things, accepting that sometimes some things just don’t work and now and then sitting back to take a look at what I’ve done and being happy with it.



My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook

Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.


Tuesday, 31 May 2022

Writing diary: May

I’ve been pottering along working on the same book since the beginning of the year, going more and more slowly. I started the year with a very full plan and then wrote every day, first by hand and then typing up what I’d written. This was a lot of work, but I thought it was cutting out a stage of drafting by making me really think about what I’d put down on paper as I typed it. However, I think now that there’s something larger at stake with the book, a fundamental thing in the plot that I thought was minor but which is actually right at the heart of it. What this means, I think, is that before I am done with this first draft I need to examine one particular central adult character and their motives and see how this links in with the plot and even more importantly with the central child character and their actions.

This realisation is kind of a back-to-the-drawing-board moment. It’s daunting and makes me question the whole premise of the book. However, I think these are often the moments from which the best ideas are born. This is when you, the writer, realise what the story is trying to tell you. Of course, not all stories necessarily need to tell you anything, and what this particular story tells me may not be what it tells my reader, but the story has to work for me first.

I’m not sure what the best way to go about examining this character is. I think probably to start with I’ll read what I’ve written and make some notes about her motivation and character. I’ve started doing this already, but I was considering lots of other elements at the same time, so I haven’t been consistent. I think at the moment this character starts out being one kind of person when you only hear about her and then when she appears in person she seems rather different. Then I’ll have to set out to answer the questions I’ve raised. Or possibly I could write from her point of view telling the story of what happened to someone else. I don’t generally like writing extra bits that I know will definitely not be part of the finished book, but – hey ho! – sometimes you’ve just got to do it. The other thing that can work for me is to talk it through with someone else. At least, that usually works for plot – talking sparks ideas for smoothing out plot knots. I don't know if it would work for character.

In the meantime, the new idea that’s edging into my mind seems so much more appealing than slogging away at this one. I don’t really know anything about this idea, except that it’s historical and to do with fear of nuclear war. A friend of mine who tells me she never throws away anything printed that comes into her hands lent me a copy of the original Protect and Survive booklet from 1980. Honestly, it makes my head spin. Did the government actually believe the advice they were giving would protect anyone? Was this what scientists were telling them? 

What seems extraordinary to me now is that I lived through this period and simply didn’t think about it. I had other existential worries – I suppose most teenagers do – but I guess I must have trusted that governments would not be so stupid as to blow each other up. What a dope!



My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook


Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.


Monday, 9 May 2022

Reading children’s books and childhood reading

 

Of the twenty-seven books I’ve read so far this year, fifteen were children’s books. I read a lot of children’s books, mostly because I find them satisfying, but partly, of course, because I’m interested in how and what other children’s writers write. Do all children’s writers feel this way? I would be surprised to learn of any writer who didn’t read a good deal in their own area of work, suspicious too of their reasons for writing for a particular market if books of that ilk didn’t interest them. I suppose some maverick genius might manage to write a perfect book for children or a perfect romance or a perfect thriller without ever looking at an example of the type of book they were writing. It just doesn’t seem very likely.

Three of those twenty-seven were books about children’s books – there’s a whole world of writing around children’s books once you start looking: writing craft, criticism, history, memoir – plus articles and reviews. And when you can’t summon up the energy for an actual book there’s kidlit Twitter. I follow a lot of people who are engaged with children’s books and to be honest I would have given up on the shouting match and sales pitch that makes up most of Twitter long ago if it weren’t for this entirely wholesome and knowledgeable community.

I fell upon another rather fascinating thread on Twitter when Sophie Anderson (@sophieinspace) mentioned that she would not recommend the majority of the books she read when she was a child to children of today because there are so many brilliant more relevant texts available and many of the ‘classics’ pushed on children are racist and sexist. I understand where she’s coming from, but as ever it’s a matter of who is introducing reading matter to children. Most adults are not particularly interested in children’s books. They can’t be expected to know what is current and relevant. What they know about children’s books is based on books they knew and loved as a child and what the supermarket and the display tables in bookshops are shoving at them. Most primary school teachers can scarcely keep up with all the demands of their jobs, let alone manage to become well-read in the latest children’s books. For all these reasons, of course people keep sharing ‘classic’ children’s books with children. I think there’s probably also a tendency to think that these books have stood the test of time so they must be good and that, since they are classics, they must be ‘safe’. None of which is necessarily true. Reading possibly problematic old books with a child and sharing problems in them is one way forward, but I think really the best thing is to give children lots of opportunities to choose for themselves. Learning to look at book covers and blurbs to help you decide if a book will suit you is a skill. So is choosing to read something new and then deciding that it doesn’t suit you. This is, of course, where a well-stocked library comes in. *sigh*

All this led me to think about my own reading choices as a child and who and what influenced them. 

What there was in the library mostly dictated what I read. I didn’t own a lot of books but my mother took us to the library every week. Occasionally she’d point out something there she’s enjoyed as a child (that’s how I came to Elizabeth Gouge) but mostly it was just me and the shelves.

I read all the classics, What Katy Did, The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, every Nesbit I could get my hands on, influenced largely by BBC serialisations, I think. There was modern stuff too, Helen Cresswell’s Lizzie Dripping, I think Tom’s Midnight Garden and The Borrowers. From the cinema, I came to all the Mary Poppins books, so much stranger and more mysterious on the page.

One very strong memory is of a serialisation of Elidor on the children’s radio programme which was all we had by way of English language media when my father was based in Germany. It was mind-blowing and led me to the rest of Alan Garner.

When I was about eight, a friend of my mother’s who reviewed children’s books came to stay, bringing me a stack of new paperbacks, eight or ten new books all at once. It was glorious. The only one I have left is the rather wonderful The Saucepan Journey by Edith Unnerstad. I think this is the moment I started wanting to own books. After birthdays and Christmas I would head straight for a bookshop. And oh, the joy when I discovered a local second hand bookshop – a big pile of books for scarcely any outlay, lots more classics because they’d be in hardback which, to my mind, meant they must be superior.

The only influences I remember from teachers was when we listened to a recording of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe which led me to the rest of Narnia and another teacher lent me a book called Well Met By Witchlight by Nina Beachcroft when I missed her reading the end (I tracked this book down a year or so ago and it wasn’t nearly as good as I remembered, but it was a huge influence on the direction of my childhood writing).

Then there was my friend Miranda. Her mother knew a lot about children’s books somehow. Through her I found K M Peyton and Barbara Willard at just the moment that I was tiptoeing around the edge of adult novels, because British publishing was still only toying with YA back then. 

So back to the question of whether I would share classic children’s books with children. Personally, no. I take great pleasure in buying books for all the children in my present-buying sphere. I like to share new and interesting books they may not have come across. I wouldn’t stop a child from reading classics, but I’d let them arrive at them for themselves. Direction is great and if there are knowledgeable teachers, librarians and family who can direct a child to their next favourite book, fantastic. But failing that guiding hand, what they need is plenty of choice.

 


 

My new book, Snippets, is available now.



For a taster tale, you can read a Snippets story that's not in the book here.

You can get a copy of Snippets on Amazon or if you’d like a signed copy send me a message on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook


Go to https://ko-fi.com/clairewatts to read a new Snippets story every month. It’s free, but you can support me with a donation if you like.