Words and Feelings

Show Us Who You Are by Elle McNicoll 

Knights of, 2021 

Elle McNicoll arrived on the scene in a blaze of passionate storytelling last year with 'A Kind of Spark'. The book picked up, as one of its themes, the Scottish witch trials explored through the sympathetic voice of its neurodivergent protagonist. It was a masterly debut. McNicoll told a vivid and original story (increasingly rare in today's saturated children's literature market), added to which her viewpoint as an #OwnVoices writer, was beautifully interwoven into the texture of the story, never overwhelming but always challenging in the best possible way. 

Now Show Us Who You Are is here. In this, her latest novel, McNicoll has created - if anything - something even more rich and compelling than her first. For me, A Kind of Spark was masterly but this one is something exceptional. 

Beyond knowing that, what has been difficult - in fact impossible -  is putting into words how this book has affected me. Once I'd read the book, I tweeted:

"I’ve finished reading this now. Umm. I actually don’t know what to say..."

And I'm afraid I am still struggling to get into words what reading Show Us Who You Are has done to me.

It's to do with the story certainly, the fact that it is refreshingly new and boldly plotted. It satisfies in the best kind of literary way. But then there are also the characters. They walked into my life, Cora and Aiden in particular, and surely they are there now for good. Then there's the voice - the voice is something very special indeed; once heard it is unforgettable.  

There are many other layers, shades, reflections, sides, planes to the novel, but the joy is going to be for every reader to discover them for themselves. So I thought that the best thing I could do is to offer some prompts that you might like to consider while you're reading the book. What will the book say to you? How will it speak to you? Maybe the questions, too, might be helpful in engaging young readers you know to develop their thinking about the book too. 

In the end, I've come to the conclusion that, for me,  Show Us Who You Are transcends feeling: it's not about telling, it's all to do with the showing. McNicoll's writing does this effortlessly, and that is rare writing indeed. Her book left me speechless - for weeks afterwards too! - because the whole act of being told the story changed me so much as a reader, maybe even as a human being, that there was literally nothing more to be said. Only felt. 

And that's probably the best kind of reading you can ever hope to enjoy. 

***  

Questions to think and talk about:

• What does the title mean? What has it got to do with the story that is being told? 
  
• Cora and Aiden are intensely good friends, but not girlfriend and boyfriend. This is an important distinction to make when thinking about their relationship in the story - why?
  
• Mirrors appear in the story in key scenes. What is so significant about them? 
• Cora is an old name that derives from the Greek name 'Persephone'. What do you know about the Persephone myth? What other connections (and disconnections!) does the novel have to that story?
• There are many twists and turns in the storytelling. What surprised you most in the novel? 
• There are many science fiction aspects of the book. Despite this, does the story feel 'real' to you? How does it do that if so?
• What do you think matters most to the author in this book: the characters or the plot? 
• Which was the last book you read with a main character who is neurodivergent? What other books have similar characters?
  
• If you have read A Kind of Spark, does it feel like the books are connected by the same author? How or how not? 
  

An interview with Adam and Lisa Murphy, two 'Dead Good Storytellers'

CorpseTalk: Dead Good Storytellers by Adam Murphy and Lisa Murphy (David Fickling Books, 2021)

The writer-artist duo of Adam and Lisa Murphy will, I'm sure, be well-known to many reading this blog. Their work for The Phoenix in the form of the regular CorpseTalk strip has been a long-term feature of the comic and it's been no surprise that these have been collected into volumes for David Fickling Books: kicking off with a couple of 'Season' editions, themed volumes soon followed - Ground-Breaking Scientists, Ground-Breaking Rebels, Queens and Kings and Ground-Breaking Women. 

The latest addition to this very popular series (at least in my classroom!) is Dead Good Storytellers. Here we are introduced to a wide-ranging group of writers from the very familar (Charles Dickens and Beatrix Potter) to the perhaps less well-known (Enheduanna and Jalaluddin Rumi). Alongside a potted biography in the form of a light-hearted, TV-style interview, we are given a brilliant mini-graphic-novel-style version of one of the writer's works. I was quite amazed by the getting into four pages of Tolstoy's War and Peace, but possibly even more delighted by the comic strip version of Peter Rabbit - personally, I think Beatrix Potter would make a fantastic series like this for modern kids! 

In keeping with the format of the CorpseTalk series, I'm joined here by Adam and Lisa (thankfully though, unlike their usual subjects, they're both still very much alive!), to talk about the place of graphic novels in the classroom, the challenges of working in this medium, and how history can benefit from a refreshing, comic-strip revamp.

***

Hi, Adam and Lisa! It's great to join you both on the Blog Tour for Dead Good Storytellers. First off, I've been wondering: what are the advantages of presenting history through graphic novels? 

 
It's a wonderful medium for bringing history to life and making historical personalities comprehensible, relatable and human. The interview format of CorpseTalk is particularly good for this, as there are multiple ways to approach any given piece of information: asking a question from a modern perspective, asking a very obvious question to cover basic information, giving a guest a chance to try and justify themselves, or my favourite: have a guest present the traditional view of themselves as a hero, and then ambush them with some inconvenient revisionism!

 

 

 

When you're planning and writing your books, how do you choose what to present to your audience?

 
Our central mission is always to tell the truth to kids, to the maximum extent possible.  Obviously, when presenting history for kids, there are things we just can’t talk about, but we approach each interview with a basic respect for kids' wisdom, curiosity and desire for meaningful explanations of the world. The comic has a strict limit in the amount of information we can cover, due to the limited page count and the number of words and pictures we can physically fit on the page. So the main job is the back-and-forth process of working through what specific information to include and how to present it, to ensure everything makes sense and gives the best overview of the person's life and times possible in that space. Once we’ve done an initial round of reading and research, we’ll talk over the material and make an initial stab at what facts, stories and bits of context are most relevant and exciting. Then it goes through multiple drafts, juggling how much set-up each bit needs, what order to introduce things to ensure facts build on one another, who should be explaining what, what questions to ask to get the necessary answers etc.

 

 

What is the place of humour in presenting history to children? Are there any limitations or difficulties with taking this approach?

 
Humour is essential to the way CorpseTalk works, as it injects fun and energy that make it something kids want to read. It also makes the information presented "sticky" - kids remember stuff when it's attached to a joke. This allows us to slip in the history without it feeling like learning, but rather letting kids feel proud of the things they now know. Naturally, there are some stories that lend themselves to a more serious approach - Anne Frank springs to mind, or Martin Luther King. Once the series was well established, it became clear that it could handle occasional serious interview subjects without losing readers' attention. Although, even in those cases, there are always opportunities for humorous moments if they are handled carefully.   

 

 

How do you ensure CorpseTalk represents diverse figures from history? 
 

This is something we devote a lot of time and attention to. Originally, when CorpseTalk was just being published in The Phoenix magazine, and books were just a hopeful dream of the future, we were basically just doing random people, many of them were actually kids’ suggestions. When we start planning one of the themed books (Scientists, Women, Queens & Kings, Rebels and now Storytellers), we look at who we'd already done interviews with, and then decide who the best people would be to fill the remaining pages. We have basically a massive spreadsheet of existing interviews and possible interviewee names, grouped under existing and possible books, and then we juggle them around with Anthony, our brilliant and remarkably patient editor at DFB. We’ve always tried to fill each book with as many different points of view as possible; with lots of women, different ethnicities, different parts of the world and also different time periods. But most of all, making sure every guest is fascinating, unique and has a great story to tell.

 

 

Are there any historical figures that you feel especially passionate about presenting in CorpseTalk? Why those people in particular? 

 

Adam: I always feel especially proud when we're able to introduce kids to more obscure historical figures they (or their teachers and parents!) might not have heard of before. We just completed an interview with Ibn Battuta, the medieval traveller whose incredible journeys provide a fascinating glimpse into everyday life during the medieval Islamic golden age.  I was also really excited to include Enheduanna in the Storytellers book - the first writer in all of history that we know anything about. I heard about her on the fantastic Literature & History podcast. Despite having lived such an inconceivably long time ago, her life is full of fascinating stories and has all kinds of shockingly relevant lessons for the modern world: on the power of empires, the role of propaganda, the place of women, and the capacity of literature to shape the world. Plus some of the most utterly insane myths I have ever heard!

 

How would you like to see CorpseTalk used in school settings?

 
We'd be supremely honoured to know that CorpseTalk was useful as a teaching resource. We've run a number of successful workshops getting kids to do their own interview comics with historical people they already know about - that could be extended into a more substantial project, including getting kids to research their chosen subject, as well as researching historical costumes, architecture etc for the drawings. It would also be great to see CorpseTalk being used to introduce kids to historiography - something we think a lot about in the production process. Why did we include certain facts or viewpoints, but exclude others? Would they have handled the interview differently?

 

 

It really is wonderful to see the graphic novel format adapted so brilliantly to non-fiction in CorpseTalk and it's been great to hear about your writing process. Thanks so much, Adam and Lisa!
 

Return to Serendib

 The Boy Who Met a Whale by Nizrana Farook (Nosy Crow)

Hot on the heels of the hugely popular The Girl Who Stole an Elephant from Nizrana Farook comes her next Serendib adventure: The Boy Who Met a Whale. This exciting story follows Razi and his sister, Shifa, as they are drawn into the world of Zheng, a boy whose tales of a lost treasure prove too tempting to resist.

 A glorious, vivid setting forms the rich backdrop to the fast-paced narrative - Farook's own Sri Lankan background provides the reader generously with enticing scenes of stilt-fishing, busy markets and hot, sandy beaches, building a truly immersive experience. 

Our heroes form a trio whose personal characterisation is beautifully drawn. We feel very early on in the novel that we know these children: Shifa's bravery and fiercely protective nature is strongly presented throughout, while Zheng is passionate and good-hearted, if a little too fond of the sailor's tall tale! Razi's inner sensitivities, especially those that relate to the loss of his father, form the crux of the plot, though this is all so lightly and masterfully done that the climax of the story (when 'the boy meets the whale'!) is at once an intense shock, overwhelmingly beautiful, and deeply moving.

And let's not forget the villains! If the excitement of being trapped in a tropical storm or coming across a pod of whales in the open ocean weren't enough, then the threat and sudden appearances throughout of the dastardly duo, Marco and Cook, certainly intensify the thrills. But they're not the cosy kind of story-book villain - the danger is very real with murderous intent and greedy ruthlessness.

The story would make a perfect choice to share with Year 4 especially. This is a tricky year group for which to provide quality read-aloud books - the children are ready to tackle much longer narratives and have a deepening maturity to cope with the sensitivities that such stories might bring. The plot of The Boy Who Met a Whale is very fast-paced with mutiny, storms, sea-monsters and murderous villains virtually falling over each other as they fall headlong from the pages. As such, the audience will be left breathless at the end of each chapter, calling out for 'just one more'! 

The ending is pure satisfaction in the best traditional sense, and leaves ample room for further adventures from our intrepid trio of heroes in the future. I, for one, hope there will be many more!

Unexpected Discoveries - The Short Fiction About Teenagers by Jan Mark

Last year was off to an excellent start in my personal reading: a whole month of Jan Mark's short stories - thirty stories from thirty years of writing as Jon Appleton's glorious collection, The One That Got Away, pronounces on its cover. #JanMARKuary was set up on Twitter to celebrate Mark's outstanding contribution to writing but her voice continued to speak to me throughout the ensuing months, with readings of The Hillingdon Fox and a selection of some of her shorter works for much younger children.  Now, here we are a whole year later, in January 2021, returning to this extraordinary writer with a second outing for the hashtag. Hurrah!

Throughout January, my own project is to read more of her short stories, this time those that focus on teenagers. I will be reading through these, in alphabetical order by title - there will be one story to read, most days. I'll be adding to this blog day-by-day with a short comment on something that strikes me about each tale, generally following the prompt posed on Twitter but without the restriction of character-counting.

It's going to be interesting to see how these stories connect, compare, contrast with those read last year and also with my deepening appreciation of Mark's unique, extraordinary writing and process generally. She always manages to surprise me, demonstrating the literary equivalent of a magician's sleight of hand: I finish her books and stories with a unique feeling of complete satisfaction, never ever really wanting to know 'how she did it', though. I'd rather simply sit amazed and applaud,  then turn eagerly to the next JM on the list!  

I don't know what to expect this #JanMARKuary. The one thing of which I can be certain, though, is that (as the Sunday Telegraph said of her collection, A Can of Worms) it's going to be another month of 'unexpected discoveries'.

***

Note: Abbreviations used throughout refer to the collections in which the stories appear.

ACOW  - A Can of Worms
DYRM - Do You Read Me? 
F&OS - Feet, and other stories
FH - Frankie's Hat

January 1st 2021:   

A Can of Worms (ACOF, DYRM)

Who is the main character in this story and how do you know?  

Although Dora takes the role of viewpoint throughout, it is Gran who emerges as the central figure, only really identifiable as such when, with typical Markian 'ta-daaaaah' revelation, the last few words draw out an invisible bundle of threads from that eponymous 'can of worms', that leads us to properly consider the older woman's inner life: friendly, candid, impersonal, no guilt, nor duplicity nor recognition. 

Elements of Jan Mark's own personal life and loves appear cameo-like throughout - books, the joy of gardening, working in charity shops; another invisible' life in addition to Gran's - even hinted at by a fleeting phrase in the story - 'hidden in plain sight'.

January 2nd 2021:   

A Little Misunderstanding (F&OS)

Where is this story set? 

The majority of the story is set in a chapel where a visiting preacher makes a particular impression on 'Kipper'. The opening of the tale cuts between different points in time and different places too - a car, an 'embalmed sitting room' (a perfectly precise description!), some bike sheds - but I found it a rather confusing way to present the exposition. The actual scene in the chapel, however, is both hilarious and terrifying while the ending has a curiously threatening atmosphere. 

A very unusual story both in structure, tone and characterisation. 

January 3rd 2021:  

Closer than a Brother (DYRM)

Is the story mostly about character, setting, or plot?

Sly, darkly funny, with a distant vein of melancholy, this tale is more Alan Bennett monologue than traditionally-styled short story. The writing never quite hits on a plot although there are occasional hints and diversions that signal attention away from what's really going on. No, it's all character here; the narrator (un)wittingly gives away more and more about themselves whilst at the same time keeping us wondering about their true motivation for actually telling us this story in the first place. 

 

January 4th 2021:  

Crocodile Time (ACOW)

What feelings did you experience when reading today?

The bravado shown by the two boys is very funny in this - a teenage Batman and Robin double-act in tourist-time Oxford! 'Magdalen Man' - with his pretentious 'It's Mawd-lin not Mag-da-len' - also made me laugh, but this time 'at' not 'with' him. It was only at the end - and once again with JM, I had no idea what was going to happen right up to the very last line - then the rug was pulled from under my feet and the entertainment froze: in a flash, the story became a poignant last look at the carefree children-that-were before the grown-up view of life finally takes hold.

January 5th 2021:   

Do you read me? (DYRM)

If you could illustrate this story, what would you draw? 

I have a soft spot for badges myself and like JM's son (for whom she bought them) I have a collection that I don't much wear. The variety of the badges, their collective portrait of the main character, would make a good picture - a kind of collage of all of them and one (would the reader look closely enough?) to have the minuscule words written around the edge. 

January 6th 2021:   

Enough is too much already (F&OS)

What does JM want the reader to remember most from this story?  

Dialogue is at the forefront of this story - which is actually a storyteller explaining himself to his friends. The sharp flavour of the speech throughout conjures up the inner and outer worlds of the three characters, Nazzer, Maurice and Nina, better than any description could. JM's last line is interesting here - not a surprise in itself as it simply brings to an end Maurice's almost interminable story that started all those pages ago. And what a story: its winding, meandering lines and ultimate pointlessness beautifully mirrors Maurice's railway journey itself: a kind of Beckettian 'nothing', the sort of happening that occurs from time to time in life, and which teaches us that not every moment can be packed full of interest. The (subtle) delight is that Maurice thinks it's so awfully important; Nazzer and Nina, however, clearly don't!

January 7th 2021:   

Feet (F&OS)

Would this story make a good film? 

No, I don't think so. The reason is that although there's a miniature comedy of manners going on at a surface level, a lot of the story is about Jane's internal world; she keeps her feelings close in a kind of stream-of-consciousness haze. A film would do little justice to JM's intentions here.  

January 8th 2021:   

Do the stories have clear 'goodies and baddies'? 

JM's writing is far too nuanced and subtle to have something so obvious as 'goodies and baddies'. In Feet there's an arrogant youth but hardly a bad guy, the trio in Enough is Too Much Already are simply themselves, neither good nor bad, while Gran in A Can of Worms, although very mildly villainous, actually engages us in siding with her! It's more a question of perspective. We might look at what JM is telling us and consider it from multiple angles: a alternative slant of light would reveal a completely different story with very different characters. Quite true-to-life in fact. 

January 9th 2021:   

Frankie's Hat (FH)

What alternative title might you give to this story? 

I'm going for a direct quote from Frankie herself: 'What do you take me for?' One of the last lines directed at her confused sister, it sums up not only the fractured relationship between Frankie and Sonia, but also underlines the older girl's frustration with herself - even the return of her husband only goes to emphasise how distant and lost the real Frankie has become now. A really very sad story indeed. 

January 10th 2021:   

Front (DYRM)

Which was your favourite moment in today's reading? 

Unusually for JM, I found this story a bit long-winded, the opening especially; maybe it was me but the descriptions of the gardens at the start felt overworked, and the story itself was lacking generally. My favourite bit was the moment where the narrator says that she finally understands the purpose of 'small talk' in grown-ups - one of those 'penny-drop' moments that accompanies the move towards adulthood. 

 

January 11th 2021:  

How would you describe JM's authorial voice from what you've read so far? 

There's definitely a subtle shift in tone with these short stories for teens, compared with the ones for the older juniors and newbie secondary-age children. Although the humour is still there, it's far more wry and ironic, less playful. She has the same sharpness in the dialogue, though there's a laconic tone too. In a couple of the stories, she pinpoints real empathy - which she also has in the stories for younger children, but here she opens the readers' eyes up to more troubling 'grown-up' concerns: Front in particular, and the endings of A Can of Worms and Crocodile Time. Mark - as always - is firmly on the side of the young.

January 12th 2021:  

Whose writing today is in the Jan Mark lineage ?

Most definitely it's Hilary McKay. There's the same tone in the language (if not quite in the plot or storytelling); the same qualities that both writers highlight are at once sympathetic to and celebratory of their young protagonists; and the humour is often quite prickly and couched in reality - never corny, never careless. I think I know now why I loved The Time of Green Magic so much - it's exactly the kind of domestic fantasia that JM might have written. 

January 13th 2021:  

I was adored once too (F&OS)

If you could interview a character from the story, what would you ask them and why?

I'd ask Birkett why he repeated the line from Aguecheek with different intonation - what had he realised? - the lynchpin moment that not only turns the story itself, but also the point where the boy becomes shudderingly aware of the implications of adult-world interactions. A witty and enjoyable story but this moment of pain was a difficult pill to swallow. 

January 14th 2021:  

It wasn't me (FH)

Which character do you like most?  

Tricky question to answer with today's story (although it was superb!). Chloe may be condescending and Mum far too submissive and accepting of the status quo, but Ronda came across to me as very edgy, tight-lipped, boiling up towards an explosion. Which of course, is the whole point of the ending - another of JM's absolute 'nailed it' moments. I admired Ronda's courage rather than 'liked' it, I think. 

January 15th 2021:  

Just passing through (DYRM)

What message do you get from your reading of JM so far?

Oh, it's that life is so strange! Yet we notice so little in our day-to-day routines. I love how JM does notice these things and dissects them with gruesome fascination, laying it all bare and showing us what truly lies beneath the skin. The humour of the stories for younger readers, I'm noticing, is still very much there in the stories read this #JanMARKuary, but the laughs are slightly more bitter, hollow or - as with this masterly bit of supernatural yarn today - they're unsettled and nervous. 

Half-way through this month of JM reading, I'm astonished yet again by her variety, breadth and depth but also her remarkable consistency in tone and quality. 

January 16th-17th 2021:  

Like it is round here (FH)

What do you make of JM's dialogue? 

The dialogue between Mum and Yo-yo is perfect: the older woman comes across as a critical friend; her daughter on the other hand is full of barbed sarcasm but - as the last two sentences make very clear - Yo-yo is so glad to have her mother. The sly smiles they exchange, the 'speaking clock' interrupting the phone calls, the exasperated frustrations all couch Yo-yo's development as a young woman in a realistic and supportive relationship. The absence of Dad draws the two female characters even closer. Partly emphasised by the attention drawn repeatedly to Robert's  'Uh-huh'-ings too, JM uses her dialogue to build the contrast between male and female outlook quite brilliantly.

Have you read anything else like this story?

Nothing is like JM in any reading I know. She's a complete original; although you might find traces of her interests and style in writers like Anthony McGowan (The Truth of Things), Hilary McKay (The Casson series, The Skylarks War) and Richard Lambert (who comes close with the very authentic - but much, much darker - depiction of rural teenage life in The Wolf Road),  I can't think of anyone who quite matches the tone of JM's writing: a mix of sharp, bountiful humour and soft sensitivity that is totally unique.

January 18th 2021:  

Mrs Tulkinghorn's First Symphony (F&OS)

Are JM's characters believable to you? 

In short - believable characters, yes, though Mrs Tulkinghorn's First Symphony calls for me to qualify my answer and think harder. Here, JM creates a rarefied, dreamlike, and - for a fraction of a second - quite threatening atmosphere where we seem to see the story from inside her characters. It's something I notice I've mentioned before (in Feet): there is realism but it's on a different plane - the real world seen through the eyes of the character. Oddly, in this story, it's not the boy's eyes we see through, but Mrs Tulkinghorn's. It's an unsettling feeling; but then - now I think about it - I've not read a single thing by JM in these stories that hasn't got that edge, somewhere. Life 'through a glass darkly' perhaps? 

January 19th 2021: 

Which part of your reading has stuck in your mind the most forcibly? 

Tiny snapshots: the theatre group standing around at the end of I was adored once too, the damp rising ominously in Just passing through, Gran looking inquisitively through the window in A Can of Worms. I'm not surprised that JM likened the writing of a story to a picture  and the action going on within and without the frame. This 'photo album' of her tales is full of vivid shots.

January 20th 2021:  

Party Wall (ACOF&OS)

In your reading of JM, what do you think interests her as a writer the most?

I originally posted on Twitter that I thought it was 'inner and outer lives' and I still think that is integral to JM's outlook on writing; she has this way of revealing the most extraordinary things about her characters in the most ordinary of contexts - it's like she is saying "Here's the everyday lives we all know, but look closer! What's really going on?" But the more I've thought about this, it's also about perspective. Party Wall demonstrates this beautifully: we see an ordinary street and two ordinary houses; the characters are all the sorts of people we know but here they are, connected by a 'party wall'. The elliptical, partial reveal of the students' life stories casts mystery and we readers feel both pain and guilt at our trespassing on the personal. Note the window at the end: looking out and looking in: what before seemed a quite everyday 'outer' life reveals an 'inner' one that now confronts us. An intensely haunting experience.

January 21st - 22nd 2021: 

Poor Darling (F&OS)

Which character have you liked the least? 

Was there anything you disliked about today's reading? 

I like 'dislikes'. Too often, etiquette demands an overly positive attitude to things we've read, but there is so much of importance in identifying the stuff we haven't enjoyed. Today's story is masterly but I don't like it. It's very, very uncomfortable, and the horrible revelation at the end - again a painful discovery - is another example of JM's laying out of the stark differences between our inner and outer lives. And the characters I like least? It's the two strangers who've just only met but find balm for their personal hurt in nasty, covert whisperings.

 

January 23rd 2021: 

Posts and Telecommunications (F&OS)

How does the main character feel in this story?

Hurt. Abandoned. Lonely. It's a painful experience. This year, I'm seeing a lot more bleakness in JM's writing and in some cases, a lot less hope. Her characteristic endings, always a surprise, can also cast some dark shadows indeed.

January 24th 2021: 

Resurgam (DYRM)

Which character interests you the most?

Michael: his quiet subversion. The ending is odd though - I have a strong feeling that it's Michael who has created the 'black magic' - his talk of 'the place of skulls' and Judas' noose earlier is quite macabre, though actually more 'realistic' than primulas and daffodils - but is it really him? JM deliberately casts his final words of the story with no clue as to his expression... Elsewhere, there were hints to me of Hardy's The Choirmaster's Burial here: the hypocritical church-goers and their bloated self importance contrasts strongly with the far more Christian outlook of the vicar's son. I liked this story a lot.

 

January 25th 2021:

What surprises do JM's books and stories have?

The endings are always brilliantly surprising. There's only a few of the short stories that don't suddenly twist the whole narrative with a few words. Even once you've read a few of JM's tales, and you semi-expect there to be some kind of surprise at the end, you can't predict it. Although I haven't re-read many of JM's short stories (yet!), I have a feeling that doing so doesn't diminish the flourish of the ending.

 

January 26th 2021: 

Still Life: Remote Control (F&OS)

Is the setting important to the story?

An art room provides the setting in this story and forms a kind of metaphor for what's going on. In Lockdown, I'm finding that the near-emptiness of school is such a contrast to the buzzing, tremulous, uncontained energy that fills the building when the children are all there. JM manages to capture this feeling in all her stories - a pulse that drives the life within. But like a classroom (as with the art studio here) the overall buzz is created by individuals, and by focusing on the differences, firing attention from one young person to the next, JM points to this fact. Here is the energy of the classroom; here too is the energy of her stories. 

 

January 27th 2021:

Would you read other books by JM?

Yes. Anything I've read by her is so completely different to everything else she writes; I'm amazed by her Protean gift and it makes reading her an absolute joy.

 

January 28th 2021: 

The Gnomon (DYRM) 

Was there anything that puzzled you in today's story?

Another ghost story today. JM plays by the rules in her supernatural fiction, I find: these stories are pretty traditional in their telling, and (with the notable brilliance of Resurgam) leave the reader with few questions oddly enough, considering the genre! However, while I was slightly disappointed by the eerie tales from In Black And White, those I have read this year have been much more successful - the ghost's suppressed hatred and its brutality is particularly striking here.

January 29th 2021: 

What are JM's frustrations?

Something about her work hints at a frustration with those who only see the surface; and with those who don't think beyond that surface; and with those who can't (or won't) see the mystery that is life. Everything she writes seems to focus on the ordinary but seen through a lens than manages to reveal the extraordinary, the unsettling, the un-everyday. In her stories for younger readers, this often became the source of their humour (like Anthony's challenge and triumph in his mocking, hysterical laughter from How Anthony Made a Friend); but in these stories about teenagers, the humour emerges completely differently - laconic, ironic, quite deadpan. Is JM completely serious about being funny? Or funny about being serious?  

How this links to her 'frustrations', well, there's more to be said about this, I can sense it, but that's as far as I am able to go for now. 

January 30th 2021: 

The Travelling Settee (ACOW) 

How did the main character change in the story?

A GCSE assignment to write about an interview with a favourite author turns into something much more revealing about the subject and the nature of writing itself. We see, step-by-step, how the author of the narrator's beloved childhood books learns what it was truly that 'made' the story, and we learn too what writing, and all its mystery, can do. He changes in the space of one short interview, learning finally what writing those books meant to him. 

This is a beautiful story. 

January 31st 2021: 

Too Old to Rock and Roll (DYRM) 

What did you think of the ending?

It's the last day of a fairly grim January, but it's been a glorious #JanMARKuary and now I've reached the end, what were those promised 'unexpected discoveries' in my reading of JM's stories this year? 

I'm struck most by how different the ones about teenagers are compared to those written about younger children. There's a darker feel to the atmosphere, humour is still there but the slyness has now turned mordant. There is ebullience in her characters, but there's now a layer of anxiety too. I feel I've been journeying the hinterland that exists between childhood and adulthood - a strange place indeed. 

It wouldn't quite be right if I identified 'favourite' stories this year, because they haven't felt like that: while I have loved reading them, these stories have challenged me much more than the more well-known ones for a younger audience. I don't want to love everything I read; I like that about reading and about Jan Mark's writing in particular, I'm finding.

But...there are a few stories that have 'stuck' in my memory and feeling though and for various reasons (none of which the same) I must mention A Can of Worms, Crocodile Time, Do you Read Me?, Poor Darling, and Resurgam.  

So. It's the last day of #JanMARKuary 2021 and I'm particularly pleased that the last words of Too Old to Rock and Roll - the last I read for this year's celebration of JM - both neatly wrap up the story and provide a kind of looking forward: 

"There is still so much more to come," they seem to say. "It's not over yet!"