Showing posts with label Alison Boyle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alison Boyle. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Why We Write – Alison Boyle

Question 1: Why should we write?
Answer 1: Because we must. 
Question 2: But why must we?
Answer 2
: Eco-nomic necess-i-ty?
For most writers across the world it's flying in the face of economic necessity to spend time on writing.
Question 3: So why keep going in the face of hours of commitment that may end in a rejection?

I refer you back to
Answer 1.
Balaclavian public art. Was it a Sassie who swooped on
the Northern Quarter in Manchester, England,
to paint this street furniture, then disappeared?
If we write picturebook texts and they move from the realm of our personal computer or notepad to the public realm of a printed book or eBook or app etc, our ideas and the way they're expressed have the potential to be remembered. They can get people thinking and talking and can provide the foundations for so much more.

If you are fortunate to have had one book published you'll know the thrill of either seeing it discovered by a 'new' reader or re-discovered by an 'old' reader.
PICTURE THE SCENE World Book Day 2012. A four year-old girl waits patiently for an exceedingly long snake of young children to be guided into the classroom for a Visiting Author session. I am the Visiting Author, I've brought some books with me that the school wants to buy. They're in my bag...
Four year-old Girl: What do you do?
Me: I write books, including for children.
Four year-old Girl: [Long pause, looking round at her classmates]: We're children.
Me: You are.
Four year-old Girl: Have I read any of your books?
[If she can read she is doing well for her age, and if she can't then I enjoy knowing that the grown-ups in her life are valuing her contribution]
Me: Maybe.
[Visiting Author scans the classroom, and seeing two healthy-sized wooden boxes of picturebooks, walks over with a mixture of trepidation and hope. Four year-old Girl watches Visiting Author with that question hanging in the air.
In under ten seconds a book by Visiting Author is located, and it's a well-thumbed edition. Four year-old Girl, who looks intrigued]
Me: I wrote this book.
[I did, I did, and it's in my top three and I've never fallen out with it, and I really liked the editor and the illustrator - this, as all published picturebook authors will know, is not guaranteed - and
it's been borrowed thousands of times from libraries across the UK]
Four year-old Girl: [Smiles]
Me: [First I listen to an introduction by the teacher, then I launch into my World Book Day session, telling the story of a classmate who incited me to rummage through the class's book box.]
PICTURE ANOTHER SCENE A close friend I met in publishing leaves to qualify as a teacher and build a school in a remote part of Ghana with an inspirational Ghanaian woman. Literally build it, cement scooped into the boot of the Head's car to avoid it being syphoned off overnight before water can be added and bricks can be stuck together to make some walls.

Whilst over in Scotland my friend volunteers at a local primary school helping children who have additional needs, often due to their family circumstances.

The Volunteer Teacher asks a Seven year-old Boy to go to the bookshelf and choose five books...
Volunteer Teacher: 'Oh, you've chosen a book written by one of my friends.' [Note: No product placement involved]
Seven year-old Boy: [Looks askance at Volunteer Teacher] I don't believe you.
Volunteer Teacher: No, really.

[They read all of the books together]
Volunteer Teacher, friend, and biased-towards-me person: Which is your favourite out of those five?
Seven year-old Boy: This one.

Of course the chosen book is the one I wrote. If it hadn't been I wouldn't have heard the story. I protest to my friend that the boy was trying to impress his new teacher, whom he likes. The response was that the boy never chooses anything just to go along with the teacher. I don't think she's completely right, but I don't think she's completely wrong either. (By the way, it's the same book as in the first example.)

All writers have stories about how their words and ideas get people thinking and talking. Whether shared or not, these experiences bring sporadic energy to the ongoing labour of writing. Many authors are strapped for cash and finding it increasingly hard to make a living out of their art, due to fewer offers, lower advances and unsettled routes to market. But this is also a time of opportunity.
Writers need to survive for new writing to happen. I write because I have to, but it isn't just about me. Many children who are keen to read our books can't even get to school. If they can get to school and the schools are good ones, our books can make a difference.
Question 4: What can we do to reach readers?
Answer 4
: We can write.
Question 1: Why should we write?
My Right Honourable Friend, I refer you back to the answer I gave some moments ago -
Answer 1)
There's a story or two you might like to read on this website. If you look deep enough you will find the foundations.

On the side wall of a car park in Manchester, England,
an enormous bird perches; cement supports the painting's base.



Wednesday, 4 April 2012

Bee-rocracies & Hierarchies - Alison Boyle

What is it like to be a bee? 

Readers of picturebooks and readers of this blog, I'm going to let you in to some of my thoughts about story themes, some of which involve bees.

A big theme with several branches can provoke responses from readers, who bring an array of experiences to the interpretation of a story. Theodor Seuss Geisel (alias Dr Seuss) dealt with gigantic themes in his books, including nuclear war, capitalism and the environment.

As any storyteller will tell you - including adults who are required to make up bedtime epics starring the children sitting next to them – it is vital to think yourself into the main character or characters.

When creating How Bees Be I asked myself:
Q: What does it feel like under the furry skin of a young bee that could also say something about the human condition? 
 
The big theme of How Bees Be (published by Milet, Chicago):
What happens when a character rebels against the structures of its world?
 
Looked at another way:
Q: What is it about the way a young bee looks at the world that's relevant to the way a child sees their life?
What's different?
And if children aren't reading themselves, what is there for older readers now, and for children if they think about this story in the future?

Illustrations carry meanings where the word limit doesn't allow for detailed descriptions (Laura Hambleton did the lovely bee pics). More fundamentally, creators – whether illustrators or writers or aural storytellers – will usually have a theme or two in mind at the story's inception.

Initially though, I wanted to write a book with a bee as its main character. One teacher considered How Bees Be

    "Perfect for a lesson I was doing with 4/5 year old children.
    It explores the different things that bees do in very
    imaginative and creative ways! I am glad I brought it,
    it is a story I will share again and again." Ms AJ Herrod (Suffolk).


This is one response that probably reflects the time I spent researching bees. But when I came to writing the story I ditched the facts that couldn't be used as a vehicle to express something about people.

Going back to that big theme, obviously discipline and structure are at the heart of bee communities and I wanted to draw parallels between the hive and the social, political and domestic rules that govern us.

In How Bees Be there is a Churchillian war cabinet scene that alludes to the careful planning needed – here by the bee-rocracy - to assure the efficient collection and processing of honey to keep society going. In a factory scene, mechanisation enables the noble workers to process the honey, and a picture indent emphasises the idea of everyone pulling together, including Royalty.


At one level the book is about a child's curiosity manifested in the character of Little Bee. Though small, the protagonist has an enormous appetite for pushing herself on. She already thinks of herself as grown-up, and has tantrums that are more akin to the teenage variety than toddler. But I wanted to go beyond Little Bee leaving the familiar zone of her bee bedroom to the world outside the hive.

On the first page Little Bee exercises her right to 'being a grown-up bee' by staying in bed. After rebelling against her older Biker Sis and a squadron of honeybees she explores the labyrinthine corridors of the hive, where she meets the Queen Bee.

The Queen leads a tour to demonstrate how grown-up bees in the honey factory keep the community fed. Little Bee displays that child-like quality of asking searching questions: 'Time for you to start work?' she asks at one point. To which the Queen replies: 'I don't see why I should. I'm a grown-up bee now.' 

Royalist sympathies or not?


On the final pages the main character achieves her desire, and there is intentional irony in her taking a step away from the freedom of childhood and accepting the mantle of responsibility. 

Of course it's a mixed bag: children do have less freedom in some ways, and adults often lose the freedom to stay in bed. On the other hand, being a grown-up in the bee world involves dancing, so it isn't necessarily a bad lot.


The big theme of
Wishing Bird (published by Puffin):
How can friends
provide reassurance

if self-esteem dips?
  
The big theme of The Dance of the Eagle and the Fish (published by Milet):
Is love powerful enough to transcend boundaries?

(including being inside the bodies of a bird and a fish)

Picturebooks, like all stories, reflect the places where readers and listeners join them. They can also plant the seeds of new ideas that are responded to, sometimes unconsciously, many years in the future when the book itself might have been lost, handed on, or is too tatty to read.

If you have a few spare minutes on your hands, pick up a picturebook, any picturebook. Look inside and think about its themes. You are allowed to read things into the story – that's part of what it is to be a reader (and maybe a bee, but I don't think we will ever know).