Tag Archives: CBI

Release the Author…

There’s so much dust on my blogging seat these days that I can hardly see it… Let me just blow it off, okay?

*hauls in a deep lungful*

*whuff!*

*splutters* *turns purple* *keels over in a fit of coughing*

Sorry about that. *cof* I’ll be all right in a minute. *cof*

Right. Time to clamber back aboard the hot-seat. It’s been so long since I blogged that I feel quite ashamed, but there has been a lot going on in my life, personally and professionally, which I won’t bore you with. Suffice it to say, I’ve been with you all in spirit and you’ve never been far from my thoughts, but actually finding the time to be here proved a bit of a logistical impossibility.

Anyway. Basically, I’m here today on a flying visit to tell you about something very terrifying cool.

Ready? Here we go.

This year’s lineup for the Children’s Books Ireland conference has just been announced, and – to my flabbergasted delight – I’m on it. Part of the conference is devoted to New Voices, and that’ll be the panel I’ll appear on, along with several other brand-new fledgling authors, to do readings from our work and let the world of children’s books in Ireland (and further afield) see our shiny little faces and meet our (hopefully not too terrified) selves. With any luck, I’ll be able to reveal the cover of the UK edition of THE EYE OF THE NORTH at the conference too, which will be excellent fun.

I am of course completely over the moon about all of this and any visible signs of utter terror are entirely coincidental. Right? Right.

The CBI Conference, for those who don’t know, is a marvellous gathering of kidlit-folk, booksellers and authors and illustrators and teachers and librarians and enthusiasts alike, who get together once a year to touch base and find out what’s been going on in the field (and, if I’m being honest, to fangirl/boy, squee a lot and do some serious hugging, which is always nice). I try to attend whenever I can, though I’ve been spotty the last few years (hello, parenthood), and I was very pleased to be asked to actually take part this year. It’s a welcoming, warm and very fun event – or, at least it is when other people are on the podium – so I’m hoping this year will be no different. (Particularly during my slot. Don’t worry – it’ll be brief.)

So. If you’re around Dublin at the end of September and you fancy immersing yourself in the neverending joy to be found in children’s literature, why not come along? You can purchase tickets, and/or membership of Children’s Books Ireland, HERE, and it would certainly be spiffing to see you.

Until next time, my wordy friends, read well and be happy.

eye-front-cover

Cover image for THE EYE OF THE NORTH (Knopf BFYR, 2017), artist Jeff Nentrup.

 

Rebelling and Rulebreaking (Part 1)

Well. What a weekend that was. How is everyone this morning? I hope you’re all as happy as, and slightly less exhausted than, my good self.

Today’s blog post is going to be all about this:

Image: jabberworks.co.uk (also, a site worth visiting in its own right!)

Image: jabberworks.co.uk (also, a site worth visiting in its own right!)

My brain, this cloudy morning, is swimming with everything I learned and saw and felt this past weekend at ‘Rebels and Rulebreakers’, the Children’s Books Ireland conference – and I was only able to attend the first day. I’d probably be bamboozled altogether if I’d been lucky enough to attend both days! But that’s a treat for next year, hopefully.

I’d been looking forward to Rebels and Rulebreakers for weeks, impatiently waiting for the days to roll around, and – quite possibly – talking about it incessantly. So, on Saturday morning, bright and early, my wonderful husband drove me all the way to Dublin, just to be sure I made it to the conference on time. Where we live, there are loads of trains and buses to the capital, but at the weekends they run on ‘country time’ – i.e. they don’t start until quite late in the morning (trains), and/or they turn up when they feel like it (buses). So, because I was lucky enough to have a lift, I was a little early. I wandered around Smithfield (a very pretty part of Dublin city, where the Jameson Whiskey Distillery is – you may have heard of that!) looking at things like the gorgeous wall art looking down over the central square, and the faux meadow, complete with grass and niftily carved wooden sheep, around which children – and several parents – were having great fun. The place was filled with tourists and sightseers, and there was such a bright and happy buzz over everything.

I was a little nervous, though. I felt like an interloper on the red carpet at the Oscars. But more of that anon.

After I’d registered, and received my snazzy name-tag, lanyard and conference tote bag, I was ready to hit the bookshop. I think I may have been the first person to wander down towards it, which is just the way I like it. I picked up some gems, including this wonderful book (which I actually managed to read, in its entirety, on Saturday, between talks and over lunch and on the way home. It’s that good):

Image: yellowbrickreads.com

Image: yellowbrickreads.com

There was just time for some chatting, and some exploration of the Lighthouse Cinema (the building in which the conference was taking place – an absolutely beautiful space) before the first talk of the morning.

The opening talk was given by Sarah Ardizzone, a translator of children’s and YA books from French to English, and it was eye-opening. I learned that translating a book from one language to another is so much more than dustily looking up words in a dictionary and placing them in an approximation of the right order on the page. Instead, it’s like delivering a baby, perhaps; you have to handle this living, squirming, new and unknown creature, a text that breathes and pulses in its own language, and capture not only the story it’s telling but also the nuances of the words – the slang (which is forever changing), the cultural moment, the complex, organic, fresh wonder of it – accurately and realistically and idiomatically in an entirely different language. Ms. Ardizzone told us how she interacts with young people from England, and also France and the Francophone world, in order to develop an ear for the music of their ‘slanguage’, their sparkling uses for words, their unique way of constructing sentences, to make sure the translation she produces will speak to the young people who read it, and sound authentic and real. She gave an insight into how translation, and the act of translation, can help to bring schoolchildren together, and she told us about a project called Translation Nation, with which she is heavily involved, which aims to bring children together in collaborative translation, working with stories and tales from all over the world.

The saddest statistic of the day, however, came from Ms. Ardizzone’s talk. She said that, in the Anglophone world, only between 1 and 3 per cent of children’s books are translated from other languages. What a world of stories children who can only read English are missing out on.

Next came a talk from the French illustrator extraordinaire, Hervé Tullet.

Image: oldcatblackboo.blogspot.com

Image: oldcatblackboo.blogspot.com

I don’t think I’ve ever been so entertained by a man making noises and pointing at shapes in a picture book ever before in my life. We’d already been introduced to M. Tullet during Ms. Ardizzone’s talk, when she’d asked him to step in and play the role of the ‘Loup’ (Wolf) in a French-language edition of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ – so, I expected him to be funny.

But I didn’t expect him to make me laugh so hard that tears rolled down my face.

He read from a selection of his work, including his masterful ‘I Am Blop’, a book that takes one simple shape (the ‘blop’ of the title) and manages to use it to teach children about size, colour, number, perspective, reflection, as well as themselves and their place in the world. I was astounded as I watched M. Tullet bring his own book to life using sounds and voice effects.

Image: timeout.com

Image: timeout.com

Unless I’d seen it performed in front of me, I’d never have believed such a simple shape could literally bring me to a new level of understanding. Funnily enough, I felt my own perception change and grow as I watched the performance, despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that Blop itself does not change shape at all throughout the book. As I watched, my mind was opened and brought to a place in which I could completely understand how a child would see Blop – see it negotiating its world, fitting in (or not) with its peers, growing bigger, changing colour, changing from being the only blop on the page to being one of many – and how they would understand, instinctively, that they, the child reading or being read to, were just like Blop.  And, more importantly, if Blop can hold its own through all this change and newness and growth, so can they. What an encouraging and confidence-building little book – and all done with a shape, and minimal text!

Oh, but look. I’ve reached my upper word limit for blog posts already. I have so much more to share, but it will have to wait for another day. In the spirit of rebelling and rulebreaking, then, I’ll break my recollections into several blog posts, and I hope you’ll enjoy reliving my memories of a wonderful day along with me.

Happy new week, everyone! And remember – you are Blop.