My First Book

Looking through my old things today I came across this book:

I remember making this; I think it was in year 2 so I couldn’t have been older than six or seven. I remember writing the story and drawing the pictures, I even remember putting the makeshift barcode on the back. It’s surprising how little my writing style has changed in around fifteen years. In Adventure under ice a brother and a sister fall into the ice and encounter all sorts of creatures there made of ice. The boy is sceptical but the girl embraces the world willingly. It ends a little disappointingly when the two run away from a witch and find a hidden door that leads them back to the safety of the woods.

Now my stories often involve a portal to a different world with a girl who is happy to believe in the magic she finds there. There are cruel creatures and fearful chases.  

Putting it simply I write fairy tales.

Good always triumphs over evil, though nowadays there are a few deaths along the way to victory but the basic premise hasn’t changed.

As well as reading for pleasure I’m going to look at writing for pleasure. I enjoy writing fairy tales and have no intention of changing that focus because writing about goblins and magical trees makes me happy.

When I was at university I took a creative writing course. I think I may have received a few good hints there but I can honestly say that it completely knocked my confidence in writing. I was in a room full of people who thought fairy tales beneath them and were far more interested in writing about politics, psychopaths and suicide. I often found myself apologising for my work or trying to add gritty realism were it just didn’t fit. I wish I could go back to that class with the confidence I’ve got now. I’d ignore their sneers and show my work proudly. 

 I’ll leave you with a quote from Niel Gaiman that I wish I’d read years ago:

The main rule of writing is that if you do it with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like. (That may be a rule for life as well as for writing. But it’s definitely true for writing.) So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it ­honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.

English Fairy Tales and Legends

 Standing at the top of Conwy Mountain, beside a herd of wild ponies it is easy to believe in fairy tales. The castle in the distance could be taken from the pages of a book.  Rolling hills set against beautiful waters are ripe with magic and history.  

So when I went into the little national trust shop with a  low beamed ceiling and hidden corners I couldn't help but buy English Fairy Tales and Legends by Rosalind Kervern. Why a Welsh shop sold English Fairy Tales I don't know but I'm glad I did. 

I've been reading it almost obsessively, getting too easily sucked into the classic narratives. The pages are thick and peppered with beautiful illustrations. 

My favourite tales so far have been The Dead Moon and The Forbidden Forest. I've learned that when facing bogles and spooks to always have a stone in my mouth and an elder tree branch in my hand. I know to bow before the ancient oak tree and to never trust a willow tree in the dark of night. 

Here's an Extract from The Dead Moon; I do not recommend these tales before bedtime: 

 Keep away from the Bog.

It's riddled with unspeakable things, It stinks of death. There are bogles and rotting corpses; dark, nauseous shapes that weave in and out of the mud like worms. There are fleshless, grasping hands out there, and disembodied mouths that gape open and suck everything into them. There are ghosts and creeping goblins, witches on cat-back, and treacherous, flickering will-o-the-wisps. 

Rosalind Kerven has remastered these tales expertly and I hope to fill my overflowing bookshelf with more of her works. The Fairy Spotters Handbook might be particularly illuminating on my next trip up Conwy Mountain.