Lovely Authors

Possibly the best thing about writing for children is that I get to meet such a range of lovely, interesting people. The children I meet on school visits are great to talk to, of course, because they always have loads of questions and funny stories to tell me, and they always seem excited and happy to meet a "real, live author", which is flattering, to say the least.

But, even though I am one myself, I am just as excited and happy to meet real, live authors too. Being a writer can be a lonely old business, and if you're not careful you spend a lot of your day talking to yourself (or in my case, talking to my dog, cats and chickens - and, from the looks on their faces, they quite plainly think I'm bonkers when I do this), so it's a wonderful treat to get out and about and meet people like me who have the same ups and downs as I do in this strange, solitary job.



Nick Butterworth and me

 The Green Room at Aye Write was the perfect place to meet some wonderful authors, and when I came home and told my own children whom I had met, they were extremely jealous. My daughter is a huge fan of Chris D'Lacey's The Fire Within, so she was furious that I had been able to sit and chat to him. And my son's first favourite read-alone books had been Percy the Park Keeper, so he was pretty cheesed off that I had had dinner with Nick Butterworth one night. "Why can't we come with you?" they wanted to know.




Caryl Hart and me



I also enjoyed meeting Sue Mongredien, Cathy MacPhail, Debi Gliori and the lovely Caryl Hart whose picture book, Whiffy Wilson, had me roaring with laughter. Whiffy Wilson is a loveable wolf cub who does not like having baths. Needless to say, he reminded me of a certain male member of our family - or possibly more than one . . . Another of her books, Don't Put Your Pants On Your Head, Fred, (out later this year) is also a winner. I'll be buying it for my nephew, Fred. I think his mum will love it. She'll definitely recognise her son in many of the scenarios in the book - well, who said picture books were just for kids?

But now I'm back home. No more fellow writers to chat to, only a computer screen winking accusingly at me and a list of jobs to do. Maybe I'll pop downstairs and have a cup of tea with the dog . . .

Sign in the loos in the Mitchell Library!