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So chuffed to find out this morning that Princess Sausage Roll has been not only been shortlisted but also received the KBR highly commended stamp of honour.

The perfect antidote to the post-holiday blues? Well, that would be coming home to glorious sunshine and falling out of one’s chair on the news of being shortlisted for the KBR Picture Book Manuscript Award 2014

Happy Mondays!!

I invited my four-year old son to guest post, with some IT assistance from his PA (yup, that’s me), about our recent holiday in Europe.  He has chosen ten of his favourite pictures from the adventure.

The Christmas tree is up, the son has posted his letter to Santa and I’m eating my way through my fourth batch of mince pies.  Something about this time of year compels me to write tales of mystery and enchantment.  The son reminds me every day how magical the world is so when the husband and I heard about the imagination revolution ’Dinovember’, we couldn’t resist joining in, particularly as the son has reached new heights in pranks at our expense.

Dinovember, started by a couple who wanted to spark the imaginations of their children, involves convincing your kids that their toy dinosaurs come to life.

We decided to use the son’s Captain America, mainly because the dinosaurs had travelled to the bottom of his toy box and neither one of us could face the minefield of jagged Lego bricks and diecast toy cars trying to find them.

First, Captain America took the son’s toothbrush

Then he dared to challenge Non-Denominational Christmas Penguin for the top spot on the tree

His antics progressed after the son put him on the Naughty Spot for his behaviour and he took the truck on a joy ride

He took time out to read whilst he hatched his next plans

Before long he was up to no good again

He did apologise though

We wish you all a Happy Captain Avember (our take on Dinovember) and hope you get to relive the marvels of childhood wonderment however you decide to hoodwink your kids.

The son is back at nursery and to fill the music-festivals-and-museum-trips-and-bike-rides-and-swimming-at-the-seaside-and-ice-cream-and-crafts-and-ice-cream-in-crafts-and-punting-and-fruit-picking void in my life, it’s time to fill it with all things writer, starting with this blog.

The summer began with award buzz.  I couldn’t believe it when I placed second in the Frances Lincoln Diverse Voices Children’s Book Award.  Such a huge honour.

I wasn’t so lucky at the SingTel Picture Book Award but I have to admit I was chuffed enough to have been shortlisted at all.

Inspired to move forward with my writing, I decided to apply to do a BA in Creative Writing.  I’ve spent the last few days flicking through the syllabus and I’m reminded how wonderful a skill it is to be able to write and to make a connection to someone else with your words.

I remember a TED Talk by Andrew Stanton, (the man behind Toy Story, need I say more).  I watched this late last year.  I was so inspired, it was probably the single biggest push I needed to enter the Frances Lincoln Diverse Voices competition.  Seeing it do the rounds again on a writer’s forum, I couldn’t resist watching it again.

They say a picture says a thousand words so the son will tell you how utterly astounded and flabbergastedly amazed I am to be shortlisted for this year’s Frances Lincoln Diverse Voices Children’s Book Award

So chuffed to announce that I’ve been shortlisted for the Singtel Picture Book Award.  All thanks to my son, the inspiration behind ‘Don’t Eat That, Phoenix!’

It’s Sunday evening.  Husband polishes off last slice of fudge cake.  Laptop battery dies after a hard day toiling away on the current WIP.

Me: [inspired by the previous afternoon’s Columbo movie (the one where Dr Sloan from Diagnosis Murder has a shocking Captain Birdseye beard)] Can you help me with some plot issues?

Husband: [eyes fill with dread at the thought of another forty thousand word manuscript] Do I have to read something?

Me: No.  I just want to throw some ideas around.

Husband: [fearful] Are you going to get upset again?

Me: [eyes drift off, recalling the anguish last time I asked husband to read first chapter of WIP and he failed to laugh at the obvious hilarious comedy opening and the raging argument that followed where I suggested he may be dead on the inside] Promise.

Husband scoots over on sofa.

Me: So whilst I’ve been writing today I’ve had these two great characters in mind.  Rather than force them in to the current manuscript I thought they should have their own book.  I think they’d make a good pair in a mystery or detective plot but I’m not sure.

Husband: I know a great detective mystery book.

Me: It’s not The Da Vinci code, is it?

Husband: [smiles nostalgically, fondly remembering the only fiction book he’s read since GCSE English] It’s a brilliant book!

Me: OK, but I’m looking for an original plot idea.

Silence.  Husband and I deep in thought.

Husband: Have you thought about a plot involving code?

Me: [rolls eyes] What, like The Da Vinci Code?

Husband: Oh right. Yeah.

Me: I think I like the idea of building a friendship.  I think it should be integral to the story.

Husband: That sounds good.  Maybe an unlikely friendship?

Me: [excited] Yes!  I like that!

Husband: Like an unlikely bond between a university professor and police cryptographer?

Me: The Da Vinci Code again?  Seriously?

Husband looks defeated.

Me: [feels bad and speaks encouragingly] I do really like the idea of a mystery to solve.  I think these characters would work well in that sort of genre.

Husband: [looks excited] Wait!  This just came to me.  How about two characters find a body and there’s a cryptic message and it all links back to a conspiracy theory within an institution that’s been around for hundreds of years.

Me: Isn’t that the plot of The Da Vinci code?

Husband:  Oh yeah.

Me: Hey, thanks for your help.

Husband: [looks pleased] That was quick.  Did I really help?

Me:  Are you heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on?

Husband: [stands up] If you want.

Me: You’ve helped.

A child gives you an excellent reason to queue jump whilst waiting in line for the toilet, though this is probably not so acceptable once your child is over the age of eighteen.

It’s an excellent opportunity to use all those clichés your parents used on you.  My particular favourites, with my fussy-eater, daredevil toddler, at the moment are: ‘how can you leave food on your plate when there are starving children in India?’ and  ‘if all your friends decided to jump off a cliff, would you?’ and the much beloved ‘because I said so’.

A child is the perfect excuse to go wild at the Southbank Imagine Children’s Festival and rekindle your childhood love for books: