Are you telekinetic? Do Ali Sparkes’ fun quiz and find out!

Ali-Sparkes-001CAN YOU MOVE THINGS AROUND JUST WITH YOUR MIND?

DO ALI SPARKES’ FUN QUIZ AND FIND OUT…

A NEW telekinetic is in town! The thrilling adventures of Tyrone Lewis are out now in Ali Sparkes’ new summer must read, Out of this World.

Shapeshifter fans will have met Tyrone in the last two books of the Shapeshifter series, when he shows up as Gideon’s Telekinetic Tutor… but nobody knows exactly HOW Tyrone got his powers.

Until now.

Out of This World, set seven years before the emergence of Dax Jones and the other Children Of Limitless Ability (COLAs), tells you how.

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But maybe this is no big deal to you. Maybe YOU are already a TELEKINETIC.

Answer these questions and discover the TRUTH…

Q1. Can you move things with your brain?!

1. No. Don’t be stupid.

2. Yes. I just head butted a One Direction pencil case across the room.

3. Sometimes I think I can—when I squint at something really hard and hold my breath and make this noise which kind of goes ‘Wuh-wuh-wuh-weeeeeeeeeh.’ I made a pen roll off a desk once!

Q2. When you get angry, do metal objects seem a bit shifty-abouty?

1. No. Human objects seem a bit inmyfacey-annoy-ey.

2. Yes. Especially when I throw them around!

3. Kind of. I found some forks stuck to the ceiling after I’d had a row with my best mate…

Q3. Have you ever freaked out friends or family by bending spoons or other cutlery?

1. No. Why would I want to bend cutlery? What has it ever done to me? Apart from that time when a teaspoon got stuck in my eye… and that was probably more my fault that the teaspoon’s. I don’t hold grudges against dining implements. That way lies madness.

2. Yes! There was this time, right, when I was whacking myself over the head with a soup ladle… and after about a minute it was all bent! The ladle. Not my head: duh—that’s made of wood, that is. Could this be the wonder of telekinesis? I once set fire to my trousers too. Is that pyrokinesis?

3. Yes, I have. I also floated the bent spoons around in a little circle while everyone screamed and someone fainted. Probably shouldn’t have done that.

Q4. Have your telekinetic experiments ever led to trouble with the authorities?

1. No. I am extremely well behaved. I consider other people’s feelings and think that floating stuff about in the air in a way which      might alarm anyone is reckless behaviour. Generally I try hard to avoid this kind of thing and I’m appalled at the way Ms Sparkes’ books encourage such foolishness. I’m not a spoilsport. I am perfectly well balanced, thank you. Perfectly.

2. Well, let me see… I’ve been done for heading a ball repeatedly at someone’s window and then, when they opened the window to complain, their face. (Well, I didn’t ASK them to open the window, did I?) Does that count? I mean—it’s still moving things with my head, innit?

3. Help! Help! I am being chased by a man and woman in suits, with tasers, who say they’re from the government! They want to test my brain!!! HEEEEEEELP!

NOW TOT UP YOUR RESULTS AND READ THE ANSWERS

MOSTLY As

You seem a little sceptical about the potential of the human mind. And generally quite cross. Of course, nobody has yet proved that telekinesis really exists, but it could happen. Lighten up a bit. And don’t give in to that teaspoon. Show it who’s boss.

MOSTLY Bs

Sorry. We don’t think you’re telekinetic… but we are concerned about the level of violence in your life. Perhaps the process of meditation, which many believe may aid the process of telekinesis, might also allow you and your pyromaniac alter ago to discover inner peace. Please do not head butt One Direction pencil cases. They don’t mean to be that annoying—it’s just in their contract.

MOSTLY Cs

It would seem you ARE telekinetic. Turn around and stare hard at a bin or something and spin it down the road, tripping over your government pursuers, and then leg it somewhere safe before considering your next move. Have you tried doing a little aerial display with a bag of Nice ‘n’ Spicy NikNaks? That’d be a laugh! Or melting a pylon. That’d be HILARIOUS!*

* OUP does not in anyway condone the melting of pylons with your mind. Please DO NOT try this at home.

Out of this World is out now – watch the book trailer!

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How writing saved my life: Janet Hoggarth on writing Gaby’s Angel

Author photo - Sept 2012I wasn’t supposed to be a writer. I was supposed to be an iconic artist or a world-famous DJ spinning the wheels of steel in front of a crazy festival crowd. Writing was a complete accident. It wasn’t an accident that I learned to actually write – we all have to do that. It was an accident that I ended up doing this as a job. I was really an editorial assistant at Bloomsbury Children’s Books, battling through press releases and making lots of mistakes proof-reading manuscripts. Stop the press (literally!)! There’s still a comma in the wrong place on page ninety-two of Harry Potter. Doh, too late…

While making lots of mistakes my boss noticed that my jacket blurbs were quite good for someone who had been told at college to drop the Creative Writing module because ‘You can’t write in a colloquial manner in this class.’ Or indeed write at all. Course duly dropped. So it was a bit of a shock to find that the writing style I had adopted as an eleven-year-old and basically not changed since was a plus point and not negative as previously informed.

Barry, my boss, liked my writing so much that he asked me to write a joke book with my brother (who is a talented poet) and the process was reminiscent of us as kids creating fake newspapers for our parents to buy (an obsession that lead to writer’s cramp and colouring-in claw). The book did really well. And that’s when the seed was planted: maybe instead of being a world-dominating DJ aka Phat Biffa (my DJ name), I could be a writer instead. A lot less glamorous but at least I wouldn’t have jet lag all the time from touring and get tinnitus from mixing banging beats in my headphones. So I eventually gave up my now proper job (I had acquired an office all of my own and a list of books to commission) and Became A Writer.

Well, Becoming A Writer meant panicking a lot because instead of me nagging authors for a synopsis or the sample chapter or to Please Finish That Book or I Won’t Pay You, it was me being nagged. Argh! I churned out loads of books (now all on Amazon for 1p, relics really), got married, had three kids back to back and didn’t work for a long while. My brain was lost in the young baby wilderness years. Then out of nowhere I found myself single with three children under five. It has to be said that was a low point. Distant dreams of DJing resurfaced. Maybe I could still make it big? The kids could come with me on tour. I would make enough money for us all to live in a mansion with a pool. Or maybe I could start writing again…

9780192745484_GABYS_ANGEL_CVR_JUN13I was having a really tough time, like Gaby in my new book Gaby’s Angel. Struggling with being a single parent, I was feeling very sorry for myself one morning on the school run, forcibly dragging all of us there and out of the house. Just as I was crossing the road with Danny in the pushchair and the girls tagging along a voice spoke to me. (Honestly, this is not made up!!!!) It was in my head, but didn’t sound like my voice. It said: ‘You are going to write a book called Gaby’s Angel about a girl who’s best friend dies.’ I stopped the pushchair and listened for what came next. ‘The dead friend sees that Gaby can’t cope without her so comes back as her angel to help her find a new best friend.’ That was it! I ran all the way to school and all the way back, chucked Danny in a playpen and wrote the synopsis in half an hour, like a woman possessed.

In the book Gaby receives white feathers from Emily, her dead best friend, as messages to not give up and carry on with life. One day I got in the car feeling so terribly sad and uninspired about writing and there on my seat was a perfectly formed white feather. How had it got in? It wasn’t there before. I took it as a message to keep going. Even if an errant seagull had pecked his way in and shed it while scavenging for ice cream, who cares? It worked. My ‘angel’ feather spurred me on that day.

It took a long time to write the book. I gave up twice and didn’t write for months because I was too exhausted or busy or DJing. But during those times I would remember the feather and the voice and would eventually flip open my laptop and make myself write. And after two years it was finally finished!

So for me, writing Gaby’s Angel was like a life raft. It kept the kids and me afloat. And they are incredibly excited to see a final copy. And so am I because it represents more than just a book. Like Gaby, it represents surviving the bad times and coming out the other side smiling older and wiser. Only not so much of the older if you don’t mind…

Author photo - Sept 2012

Find out more about Janet Hoggarth on Twitter, Facebook, and on her website.

Gaby’s Angel is out now.

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Horsing around: editing our bbbrilliant new pony series

Life-long pony enthusiast and OUP Children’s Books Editorial Assistant Helen Bray joins us to talk about the experience of editing Che Golden’s brand new series for pony-mad children, The Meadow Vale Ponies.

If someone had told me when I was a child that a job existed which satisfied both a love of books and a love of horses, I would’ve thought they were thinking of a wild dream they’d had of a library filled with ponies hoof-deep in picture books . . . with themselves as Head Librarian – giving away carrots as bookmarks.

And although that actually sounds quite appealing (note the ‘mad’ in ‘pony mad’) there is a real job where you can celebrate a love of stories AND a love of all things equine—it’s MY job!

It was Che Golden’s new book Mulberry and the Summer Show that proved this to be true.

Meadow Vale Ponies logo

Che’s new series is called The Meadow Vale Ponies, and stars a girl called Sam and the beautiful, Black-Beauty-esque, mare, Mulberry. Unfortunately, Mulberry is also the grumpiest little pony at the Meadow Vale Stables. In that way, she reminds me of a pony I used to know. Tinkerbell was almost pure white and barely bigger than a Great Dane. Sounds adorable, right? WRONG. Let’s just say she bore more similarity to Hook than Peter Pan’s Tinkerbell!

 Tinkerbell – who, if you look closely, is eyeing up my fingers wondering if she can get away with the excuse that she thought they were carrots...

Tinkerbell – who, if you look closely, is eyeing up my fingers wondering if she can get away with the excuse that she thought they were carrots…

Sam is quite nervous about learning to ride—ponies are big, powerful animals after all. Sam’s nerves get the better of her in her first lesson, when she’s unceremoniously dumped at the feet of her stern riding instructor by an overexcited pony.

It’s easy for me to sympathize with poor Sam here, as the first hack I went on with my favourite pony, Cobweb, ended in me being dumped on a grass verge next to a bemused gardener after a hair-(and mane!)raising gallop.

Me and Cobweb before the excitement

Me and Cobweb before the excitement

As Sam is trying to console herself, she hears a strange little voice saying the most bizarre things . . . but it’s only her and the Shetland ponies in the barn—surely it’s not the little Shetland, Apricot, speaking to her?!

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Sam can talk to ponies because she listens to what they have to say. And any pony-mad rider will know that there’s a lot of truth in this—horses have as many opinions, likes, and dislikes as their riders. The horse I ride at the moment, Beau, is no exception: every time it rains she tells me she doesn’t like it by galloping around the field until I let her take shelter in her stable; every time I pick out her rear hoofs she tells me she doesn’t like it by farting on my head; and every time we jump she tells me she loves it by charging at the fences and clearing them as if they were the Puissance Wall at Olympia!

Mulberry tells Sam she doesn’t like her nervous riding by performing her famous Sliding Stop:

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Thankfully, Beau seems unaware of the tricks that Mulberry delights in playing on Sam, such as the classic hold-your-breath-while-the-girth-is-done-up-so-the-saddle-slips-when-your-rider-tries-to-mount. I did used to ride a horse called Dolly who did exactly that, though. And a pony called Laddie who had a Sliding Stop even more impressive than Mulberry’s. And there was Pepé, whose party trick was trotting backwards . . . quite amazing really, but a bit embarrassing when the rest of the lesson are going the other direction! Holly was perhaps the most terrifying of all—she could do 60 bucks a minute—although that might’ve just been in response to the sparkly hoof polish I insisted on putting on her . . .

Despite all of this, for some reason that is surely only madness or love, these mishaps never seem to put us pony-mad riders off. Perhaps it’s because when things go right, it’s the best feeling in the world? Or perhaps it’s because through getting to know each other—however turbulent it might be, you and your pony become the very best of friends? For Sam, it’s because when she rides Mulberry well, it feels like flying. Learning to ride Mulberry teaches Sam that she has to trust her pony, and trust herself.

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Illustrations (c) Thomas Docherty

Working on Mulberry and the Summer Show has been such a joy for me. The story is funny and heart-warming, and it’s just so easy to become completely immersed in the world of The Meadow Vale Stables. The realism Che does so well is perhaps unsurprising when you learn that she is as pony-mad as they come, and her lead characters are, in fact, based on her own daughter and the first pony she really loved, Brie. When Che asked her daughter why she insisted on riding Brie even though she kept throwing her off, her response was ‘because I love her!’. And you can’t argue with that now, can you!

Che’s daughter with Brie – the inspiration for Mulberry’s character

The first book in The Meadow Vale Ponies series, Mulberry and the Summer Show, is out in July, with further titles in 2014.

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Photograph (c) Lou Abercrombie

Photograph (c) Lou Abercrombie

Che Golden is a graduate of the Masters course in Creative Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University and her two great passions are writing and horses. Che’s first horse was Velvet, a huge, black Irish cob who not only taught Che how to ride, but taught her two little girls as well. Now, they own Charlie Brown, a rather neurotic New Forest pony, and Robbie, a very laid-back Highland pony.

Visit Che’s website

Helen Bray is Editorial Assistant at OUP Children’s Books

Helen and Beau

Remembering the suffragettes: Julie Hearn on Hazel and Emily Wilding Davison

This week marks the centenary of the death of Emily Wilding Davison, an activist who fought for women’s suffrage in Britain, famously stepping in front of the king’s horse at the Epsom Derby. Author Julie Hearn joins us to talk about Emily, the suffragettes, and the inspiration behind her novel Hazel.

For a while, years ago, I lived in a bedsit down The Old Kent Road. The walls were the faded mauve of wisteria.  I bought a green silk throw for the bed and a junk shop chair and chest of drawers, which I painted toothpaste white.

‘Suffragette colours,’ my mother said.

‘What?’

I hadn’t ‘done’ the suffragettes at school.  I don’t think they had crossed my radar at all. I was nineteen years old and taking everything for granted.  Further education.  Independence.  My right to speak as I found and do as I pleased.  Everything.

Older now, and more enlightened, I recently went all out on eBay to secure, for myself, an Edwardian shoe buckle of green and white enamel set with purple stones.  And it pleases me to know the facts behind the fact that Carlisle Park in Morpeth, Northumberland, has been planted, this summer, with  Purpleicious Veronica, White  Bell Campanula, and the variegated greens and whites of carefully chosen hostas.

This year marks the centenary of Morpeth suffragette Emily Wilding Davison’s death.  Hence the colours in the park.  And the flurry of commemorative events being held, this month, across the country.  And the new edition of my fourth novel, Hazel, which begins with the ill-fated action that ended Emily’s life.

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Emily Wilding Davison was a leading militant in the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU). She believed that deeds, not words, would get women in this country the vote. On June 4th, 1913, she joined a crowd of spectators at the Epsom Derby with two suffrage banners concealed beneath her coat.  Grainy newsreel footage shows her stepping onto the racecourse, and raising her hands, as horses thunder past.  She is kicked and sent flying by Anmer, a thoroughbred owned by King George V.  She died in hospital four days later, without regaining consciousness. She was 40 years old.

‘In her mind she saw, again, the kick and the fall.  The woman had resembled an ungainly bird flying through the air like that with her black coat billowing. A stoned crow. A smashed rook. A blackbird hit by a pea-shooter.’  (Hazel, p. 10)

I never set out to put real people in my books. They turn up, like actors with no pre-arranged audition, while I’m researching a time or a place. It started with a few poor souls who were shown as ‘monsters’ at Bartholomew Fair at the beginning of the eighteenth century (Follow Me Down). Then Matthew Hopkins, the self-styled Witchfinder General swaggered into The Merrybegot, followed by a young and utterly charming Charles II. Dante Gabriel Rossetti is ‘The Italian’ in Ivy. And in my seventh novel, Dance of the Dark Heart (to be published by OUP in April 2014) fantasy and history do a fairly resounding ‘high five’ when the Devil’s son plays the fiddle for the fifth wife of Henry VIII.

Emily Wilding Davison got into my notebook, and my head, very soon after I began researching Hazel. At that point, I knew a lot about Hazel’s mother, Ivy (the protagonist of my third novel) but nothing at all about Hazel herself. The story needed to be set at a time when Ivy might, conceivably, have had a teenage daughter, so I’d written 1910-1915? in big red letters, on the first page of my notebook.

I didn’t want to write a war story.  I didn’t think I could.  So 1913 became the year I looked at first—and that’s where I found Emily, slipping under the railing at the Epsom Derby.

As usual, following one thread led to another. Before long, my notebook was filling up nicely and my head buzzing with questions. I saw Hazel and her father watching the race and knew, at once, that Hazel was a ‘little princess’—a pampered, naive girl knowing even less than I did, at her age, about the ways of the world.

And I thought: what if Hazel’s father turns out to be a serious gambler? What if he loses money—a LOT of money—at this race and has some kind of a breakdown as a result? What might the repercussions of that be for Hazel?

It was enough. I began to write.

Recently, I gave a talk about Emily Wilding Davison and Hazel at a girls’ school in Bristol.  I wore my Edwardian shoe buckle on a velvet choker; a purple skirt, white blouse, and dark green boots and cardigan.

‘I didn’t just throw myself together this morning, girls,’ I said to a group of year eights.  ‘What do I mean by that?’

‘Suffragette colours!’ chorused around fifty young, female, voices.

Emily would have been proud.

Julie Hearn1

Julie Hearn used to be a journalist. After her daughter was born she began a degree in Education but switched to English after suffering a panic attack while attempting to teach maths to year six.

She went on to complete a Masters Degree in women’s studies at Oxford University, where something she read about a young girl who was shown as a fairground ‘monster’ in the 17th century inspired her first novel, Follow Me Down.

Since then Julie has written many novels. She has been nominated four times for the CILIP Carnegie Medal, and shortlisted for the Branford Boase Award, the UKLA Children’s Book Award and the Guardian Children’s Fiction prize.

Julie lives in Oxfordshire where she writes full time (most mornings anyway) in a pink and green office in her garden.

Find out more about Julie’s ‘Emily and Hazel’ school and library talk here, which explores the Suffragette Movement through fact and fiction. You can contact Julie via her website.

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Hazel is out now.

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