A review of The Knot Impossible

On a wet winter afternoon, I found this post, unposted, from some time last year.  So I’ll post it now then think about writing a new one.

The unposted is:

Here’s one of the first reviews of the 4th Tale of Fontania. It’s always scary seeing a new review come out. Some writers say they never read reviews of their work. Secretly I think they’re fibbing. Um. Now I’ve written that, it isn’t secret any more.





Hey, young readers, Happy New Year from a nervous grown-up


What will I have written by the end of 2016?  Now that the Tales of Fontania are finished (the 4th, The Knot Impossible, is out already in New Zealand and Australia, out in March in the USA) it is time for me to try something new.

At the moment I’m packing my bags ready to take the ferry from Wellington NZ to the South Island. Then I’ll drive all the way down the east coast to Dunedin and Otago University for six months as the 2016 Children’s Writing Fellow. This still makes me blink with astonishment.

I told the University something about the new novel I hoped to write. I even showed them the first few pages of the first draft. They said, ‘Yay, we want you! Come down!’ (Um, they were rather more formal about it but they did sound excited, which was very flattering and made me super-excited too.) I had to keep the news deep-secret for months. That was extreeeemely hard.

But now – I’m nervous.  I’d rather scurry back to Fontania and the strange creatures that live in its forests and oceans. Already I miss the brave Fontanian children who struggled to sort out the muddles grownups were making of everything.

I have to tell myself – the new novel will have a different set of brave children. They too will struggle, make jokes and be bemused and amused by grown-ups. (After all I am still very bemused and amused by plenty of grown-ups.) When I’m finally in Dunedin in my own university office, maybe the ideas and action of this new novel and the jokes will begin to bubble in my brain and race out my fingertips through the keyboard and onto the screen.

Please send encouraging thoughts to beautiful Dunedin with its magical harbour and Otago University with its handsome clock tower – very gothic and even a bit Harry Potter-ish. I must post a photo of it on the blog very soon.

In the meantime here’s a shot of a performance of the Anarchists’ Marching Song from The Volume of Possible Endings. Rousing.

Marching Song 3

Let’s hear it for minor characters!

Probably every reader has favourite characters from favourite stories. Most often they’ll be the main ones, like Pippi Longstocking or Pooh Bear, Willie Wonka or Charlie himself  from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

But I had a great letter from a reader a couple of weeks back. It’s always special to hear from children who’ve enjoyed one or more of the Tales of Fontania and Zac from Nelson said something really pleasing. Among other things he liked a minor character in The Travelling Restaurant, Crispin Kent. He’s a journalist who also appears in The Volume of Possible Endings. Journalists are meant just to report the news, not take sides.

But Mr Kent seems dodgy at first. Is he a spy? Is he an enemy? He’s one of my favourite minor characters too, because he does seem so slippery and I’ve known several slightly wicked but very funny people a bit like him.

Have a think about the last book you read. Did any of the minor characters stand out? Can you work out why? How about writing a story of your own, with that character as the main one?


How cool are maps?

J R R Tolkein said: “Believable fairy-stories must be intensely practical. You must have a map, no matter how rough. Otherwise you wander all over the place. In The Lord of the Rings I never made anyone go farther than he could on a given day.” I loved following the adventures in the maps, and the artist helped give atmosphere to the story.

I feel very lucky to have an artist as clever as Sam Broad to do the cover and maps for each of the Tales of Fontania. He has an amazing sense of fun and drama. I don’t think he could do a boring picture no matter how hard to tried. His illustrations almost zoom off the page with energy. The other thing I really like is how he adds his own details to the basic ideas.

The Volume of Possible Endings is in five parts and each one is headed by an illustration. The one on page 158 is a fabulous raven soldier. See how his foot rests on the toadstool. See the feather dropping off his hunky arm. And take a look at the can of army rations on p 98. It’s disgusting. I love it.

The inside covers of The Volume of Possible Endings have a map of Owl Town where most of the action takes place. While I’m drafting a novel, I have to do maps myself to make sure I’m sending the characters in the right directions. I’m very grateful that Sam can look at my scrappy scribbles and turn them into versions that are so much fun and – well, I’ve already said clever. But when it’s about Sam Broad, it is worth saying clever at least twice.

Check out more of his work on his website.

Off on its own

This week, the Third Tale of Fontania, The Volume of Possible Endings was published in NZ and Australia at least  I think it’s out in Australia on the same date). I’ve been edgy – excited – happy and nervous – and I’ve decided it’s kind’a like sending your child to school for the first time. It’s what you’ve been heading for since the child was born. Your child has to go. He or she has to start making their own way in the world. But you are anxious for them. All you can do it cross your fingers, close your eyes tight and hope for the best.

It made me think of my own first day at school, Kelburn Normal Primary, Wellington. I remember my mum had put a hard-boiled egg in my lunch-box. I peeled it and dropped the pieces of shell on the ground. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been allowed to drop stuff on the ground at home. Anyway two older girls told me rather bossily that wasn’t the right thing to do, and I must put the rubbish into the bin. Did I pick it up? I’ve no idea but I remember being a bit annoyed that nobody had told me the rules earlier. Possibly I just walked away in a five-year old’s huff.

Here’s a link to a page from Around the Bookshops, one of my favourite blogs for children’s books. It contains one of the first reviews. There’s a photo of me rather happier (and older) than during the boiled egg incident.







What have I been up to? Plus a writing tip for young authors.

Without even leaving my study, I’ve been up to plenty. In February I finished the editing and final proof-reading of The Volume of Possible Endings, the Third Tale of Fontania. It should be in shops in NZ and Australia in a few weeks, the UK and US early next year. Here are two links:  
The Volume of Possible Endings (Gecko Press)

 Random House the distributor


And since October last year I’ve also been writing the Fourth Tale of Fontania. It’s another stand-alone book though it does wrap up some things that have been lurking in the margins of the first three.  

I wanted to complete it by this week. About three months ago  I had to tell my lovely family and friends, ‘No phone calls. No coffees. No hanging out till I have done the job and that means weekdays and weekends.’  Some of them screamed, bless them. But they all  understand how important it is for someone to focus hard on what they’re doing.

So, my nose has been over my keyboard. There I’ve had wild adventures, being attacked by monsters and discovering villains, all in the company of three of the toughest children I’ve ever met in the world of Fontania.

Okay, here is the writing tip.  If you’re writing  a scene and you suspect it’s a bit boring, ask yourself how the main character feels at the start of the piece, and make sure he or she is in a different frame of mind at the end. Try to make a character move from one mood to something better, or something worse. Those changes in emotion help to give a story pace.

What’s Cooking?

Readers told me they loved the food in The Travelling Restaurant and hoped there’d be more delicious feasts in The Queen and the Nobody Boy. Well – most of the food there was rather awful, like stale potatoes and the mess in the dining car of the wind-train.

The third book, The Volume of Possible Endings, is due out in November. There’s a horrible lunch which seems to be cat food on a slice of bread. But there is also the main character’s favourite fish dish, spotty plumpoe (you can only catch spotty plumpoe in Fontanian rivers.)  It is followed by lemon slice which really is very good and I make it here in New Zealand. One young man I know ate so much of it that he threw up.

I wrote about another dessert in The Queen and the Nobody Boy. It is Um’Binnian Cabbage Cream.  The recipe was printed in the back of the book with this note: I don’t think it is actually very nice. But try it with ice cream if you like. Your choice.

Several people have told me they’ve tried it and really liked it. Their choice!

Um’Binnian Cabbage Cream:
Find a cabbage as big as your head.

Cut it in half (Yes, dear, I mean the cabbage) and put both halves in a pot of cold water.

Put the pot on the stove and let the cabbage cook for 15 minutes. (Watch that it doesn’t boil over. If it does, you’re the one who has to clean up the mess.)

Pour off the water. (Don’t let any cabbage slither into the sink.) 

Fill the pot again with boiling water from your kettle.

Boil it for 20 more minutes.

Drain the cabbage dry, then chop it into very little bits.

Put the bits into a bowl, add three big knobs of butter and sprinkle in 12 dessertspoonfuls of brown sugar.

Add a heaped teaspoon of cinnamon and half a teaspoon of nutmeg.

Stir it all up.

In another bowl beat three fresh eggs and half a cup of cream.

Stir the eggs and cream into the cabbage.

Put it all into a baking dish.

Bake the dish in a medium oven until the cabbage is brown on top.  (No, no, you can do it in a small oven or a very big one. I actually mean a medium temperature, which is about 180o C).  It should take about 20 minutes.