THE THIRD HAT by Penny Dolan

Some years ago, visiting to a local village school, we got to that point in the session when children ask questions.

“'Scuse me,” a girl asked, fourth question in, and gesturing towards me, “But is that, like, a uniform?” 

Her face told me she was both interested and puzzled, In other words, this was a true question.So I looked down. I was wearing my usual “kit”: black top, skirt, tights and boots, brightened by a variety of silver necklaces, bracelets and several ornate rings.

“It’s just what I usually wear,” I said, gently adding. “Why do you ask?

She looked a bit embarrassed. “Well, I thought it might be a kind of author uniform –“ she began, and hesitated.

“We had this artist lady once, and she looked like that,” another girl interrupted. Nods of agreement. The teacher, tuned in now, added that the artist had been there for an art project earlier in the term.

“And then there was that other writer,” someone added. “When we went to that festival, the famous one“

“Oooh, yes!” murmured several voices, remembering.

Then I understood, despite the differences between us two. Although I am tallish, large and rather ungainly, with quite a lot of hair and the other author is tiny, slim and neatly proportioned with a stylish short cut, we both wore in similar “uniforms”.

To those young eyes, I must have seemed the large ogre version to the petite gothic pixie

So the consequence was that, for a while, I was a lot more varied in my “visit look,” especially when a book or two later, I had to stand on a podium alongside the famous writer. 

I chose this anecdote because I’ve been thinking about the matter of children’s author’s "looks” this week, and in particular the real-life wearing of hats. It’s quite a tough life, being out there "on show" and I’m almost sure that some hats are there because they give a kind of additional confidence to the wearer. I've never quite broken through boldly enough for one, myself.

First in the hat stakes, I think, comes Shirley Hughes, with her imposing dark hat for everyday visiting and, I believe, a straw hat for sunnier weather. 

The significant advantages of both hats seem to be that they add a little protection and stop that “what do I do with my hair today?” worry but maybe more usefully, have a brim that can conceal the artist’s gaze when there’s a chance of  time and place for some quiet sketching. Would you disturb a tall lady in a such a hat? Me, neither.

The second hat along must be Sir Terry Pratchett’s famous hat. I suspect this hat may have added a little personal height, way back before geek, geek’s mum and the whole geek multitude became his fandom. Somehow, as the years passed, that hat seemed to take on a fictional existence of its own. As Pratchett said himself, in an article from The Onion (1995) quoted in Pat Rothfuss’s blog, in response to the question 

"Why the big-ass hat?”:

"Ah… That’s the hat I wear. I don’t know, it… It… That hat, or types like it, I’ve worn for years and years. Because I bought one, and I liked it. And then people started taking photographs of me in it, and now, certainly in the UK, it’s almost a case of if I don’t turn up in my hat people don’t know who I am. So maybe I could just send this hat to signings. I just like hats. I like Australian book tours, because Australians are really, I mean that is the big hat country, Australia."

That hat seems to me, now, almost imbued with Pratchett’s vast and teeming imagination. I find it hard to think of that hat without musing on those Discworld hats full of magic and/or sky. 
 
A hat is usually a bold, stylish look. I’ve admired Korky Paul and Robert Swindells in their hats, strolling sociably around lawns at Federation of Children’s Book Group Conferences – and probably some of you Awfully Big Blog readers have had your own moments of admiration and “must get a hat” pangs.

Of course, the essence of an “Author Hat” is that it is a constant presence. New hats may be bought, but each will have an almost identical look. We know the authors don’t go to bed in their hats, but surely that headpiece must be within easy reach, their faithful Companion Hat, ready and waiting nearby?

There are some authors who go in for a fabulous variety of hats, like Sarah MacIntyre, whose imaginative hats are often admirably themed  to her latest publication, but sorry, Sarah, this post is about those who wear the Same Famous Hat. And if any of you have been following the media, you’ll know where this post is leading . . .

Last week we witnessed the arrival of another hat, a fresh fedora on the scene. 

It appeared on the head of a much-praised writer who has just won The Costa Children’s Book Award AND The Costa Book Award for her book THE LIE TREE, the first time since Pullman’s "Dark Materials" that a book for children has been honoured in this way.

On behalf of all those who would like to wear a big, bold hat,

but back out at the last moment, I’d like to say: 

Many congratulations, Frances Hardinge!

And, as my beloved father-in-law used to say: “I wish you well to wear it!”, both that Hat and the Award. All good wishes for the future!

Penny Dolan

The Cottage Bookshop.... Savita Kalhan

The Cottage Bookshop

To celebrate Independent Booksellers week (30th June to 7th July) I’m going to tell you about a little bookshop I used to go to when I was a teenager. It was a second-hand bookshop, which was perfect for me as I couldn’t afford to buy new books. The library was my second home, but this particular bookshop wasn’t far behind it. My dad used to take me there – I don’t know how he found it, because it was set off the beaten track, and if you drove too fast along the main road, you’d miss it. I spent hours in there – you would too if you’re lucky enough to come across it. It is packed from floor to rafters with books, fiction, non-fiction, old, ancient, contemporary, soft-backed, hard-backed, and so many gems it’ll take your breath away. It always did mine.

After I left home to go to Uni, I never went back. That was exactly thirty years ago. Recently I googled the bookshop, hoping against hope that it had survived the last thirty years, and imagine my sheer delight when I found it. Of course I had to go and visit it for old times' sake. I had no idea whether it was actually the same bookshop, but the location seemed to be right – I remembered it was near Penn, in Buckinghamshire, and very close to High Wycombe where I grew up.

I found it tucked away in the lovely village of Penn, tucked in amongst the cottages, off the beaten track, and it was the same bookshop. Not only was it still there, it was exactly the same. Books overflowing from floor to rafters, little nooks and niches full of books, up the old staircase to another floor of more books. 65,000 books are crammed in at any given time.

I spoke to Liz, who runs the bookshop for the family, and she told me a little bit about its history. It was opened in 1951 by Fred Baddeley, who owned the general store next door. He wanted to run a bookshop where people could come in and find books they could afford to buy. He wanted to stock as many different titles on as many different subjects as possible. When he died, his daughter Wendy took over and kept the shop in the same tradition. When Wendy passed away, her husband took it over. The bookshop still remains in the family, and it is with the same commitment to the customer.

Midsomer Murders was filmed there twice - A Tale of Two Hamlets, and more recently, A Rare Bird. It also featured on kids’ programme, Chucklevision, Bookshop Chuckles. Blue Peter featured the bookshop twice: once with Enid Blyton’s daughter, Gillian Baverstock, and once with Terry Pratchett. Terry Pratchett lived just up the road from the shop when he was growing up and often went there as a child. Apparently he said that The Cottage Bookshop was the “origin of L-Space”. He launched his Johnny and the Bomb in the shop.

But I think The Cottage Bookshop’s main claim to fame lies in the fact that it has been open for business as a bookshop for sixty-one years. It is still thriving and it is still full of book-lovers, adults and kids alike.

One of the best things I’ve heard all year came from Paula, the very helpful shop assistant, who said, “People keep saying kids don’t read. Well, they should come in here on a Saturday and during school holidays – it’s full of kids!” That was music to my ears!

I hope The Cottage Bookshop thrives for many more generations, so that booklovers of all ages continue to enjoy it. It is a treasure trove, one that I hope everyone gets to stumble across.

http://www.cottagebookshop.co.uk/
 

 

Initial Response: on gender and writing - Ellen Renner

A few days ago, Keren David wrote an excellent ABBA post querying why women writers sometimes choose to use their initials rather than full names. She felt that women need to stand up and be counted. It's a subject I've considered for a while without coming to a conclusion. My thoughts on reading her post were too long and complicated to fit in the comments section, so I’m returning to the topic here.

I'll start with a confession: I wanted to be published as E. L. Renner, but my then agent convinced me to use my first name. I'm still uncertain that was the right decision.

Why? Partly because initials are more anonymous. My books are about my characters, not me. I want my stories and characters to stand alone, with as little 'author-as-brand' hype as possible. As a child and teen reader I didn't want to know anything about the author of books I loved except when their next book was coming out. I wanted to experience the magic of transformation into another person, another world, another experience. Author photos were a definite turn-off: I wanted magic performed by some unknown alchemist, not a real person. Terry Prachett has the wisdom to wear a magician’s hat for his publicity stills.

Then there’s the delicate question of the critical glass ceiling. It's a perennial topic in adult fiction and it would be naive to believe that children’s books are exempt. It would also take a large dollop of willful obtuseness not to notice that male authors attract more critical attention per capita than their female counterparts. It's not a conspiracy; critics don't exercise their bias consciously any more than did the editors of the publications who recently voted for Sports Personality of the Year and neglected to put a single woman on the list.

I believe that almost all of us, however pro-female we believe ourselves to be, are so conditioned by the constant bombardment of overt and subtle messages in every aspect of our society about the relative value of the male versus the female that we subconsciously take a story written by a man more seriously than we would the same story written by a woman.

I don't think J.K. Rowling's books would have been as successful had she published them as Joanne. I doubt George Eliot would have garnered such a strong place in the canon if she had written as Mary Ann Evans. If Sylvia Townsend Warner, one of the greatest stylists and most original writers of the twentieth century, had been a man, I am convinced that her books would be much better known today. Arguably, Virginia Woolf made it into the public eye not because she had a room of her own, but because she had a publishing house of her own.

Is it, therefore, a cop-out for a woman to write under her initials, in an attempt, however feeble, to combat the anti-female bias that pervades every aspect of our culture? Possibly. It’s a difficult question and one I’ll continue to ask myself. But I also know I'll use whatever tools I can fashion to give my books and my characters, both male and female, every chance I can.

Because the larger point is that, although gender shouldn't matter in life, it does. And the only way I can see to address this issue as a writer is to attempt to be as genderless as possible – a writing androgyne. I enjoy writing both male and female characters. I don't set out to write about a girl or a boy; I choose the gender which seems to fit the story best. And the reason I write at all is because I want imaginative experience. While it's true that I can’t experience what it’s like to be a boy or man in real life, I can imagine it as a writer, and I have never felt closer to any character than I did when writing Tobias Petch in City of Thieves.

‘Only connect.’ E. M. Forster knew that books teach empathy. Between the pages of a book a reader can become another person. Boys can become girls, and girls boys. Men can see the world, however briefly, through the eyes and emotions of a woman. And understanding may result. And then, perhaps, the word ‘girly’ will no longer be a term of disdain. When that happens, this entire discussion will be irrelevant.

Earlier this year I attended a conference where a speaker advised writers to ensure their main characters were boys, trotting forth that insidious mantra of marketing, ‘boys won’t read about girl characters’.

Please don’t tell that to the countless boys who read Roald Dahl’s Matilda, The BFG and The Magic Finger. Or the boys, like my son, who devour Prachett’s Tiffany Aching books (which gently poke fun at gender stereotypes through the dealings between Tiffany and the Wee Free Men). Don't tell the generations of boys who have loved Charlotte's Web and The Borrowers or those who, like my husband, read E. (!) Nesbit’s The Railway Children and fell in love with Roberta.

If boys hear the message that a book is good, they'll read it whether or not it has a girl as a main character. Who gives them that message? We do. Parents, teachers, librarians, publishers, marketing and sales departments with gender specific covers. If boys are refusing to read books where the main character is a girl, it’s because we’re telling them that they shouldn’t. We give them permission to exclude girls from their imaginative world, and that view of the female as 'other' will simply carry on into adulthood. That’s where writers need to draw the battle lines: not how gender specific an author’s name is, but the banishing of girls from the centre stage of life itself. It’s an appalling message to give to children of either sex: that girls cannot be heroes, cannot be the main characters in story or in life.

I happen to be female. That accident of genetics has shaped and coloured who I am, but it is not my primary definition as a person or as a writer. Despite my qualms that Keren may be right, and that I’m somehow betraying my ideals by using my initials, I am considering publishing my next book as E. L. Renner. It’s an older, darker book and I want to distinguish it from my younger fiction. That’s the obvious reason for switching to initials, but I know the issues I listed above will inevitably influence my decision.