Stumbling blocks

I may have just answered my own question in the previous blog as to why there are few children’s books about fathers and daughters. ..It is a tragic sign of the times when you can’t draw a man in a child’s bedroom without it looking creepy.

Was there life before google

Helen and I have just ‘fessed up that we owe all our creativity to google. She is using google images to find what “a flying child” looks like and I have embarrassingly admitted to using “what rhymes with higher”. We comforted ourselves with the fact that if Jim Morrison had have been alive during the google awakening, he would have come up with something better than fire, higher, liar and erm pyre.

What’s the story?

To outdo last year’s thoughtful anniversary gift to my husband of Terry Wogan’s autobiography oh and the previous year’s gift of erm… nothing, this year the pressure was on to deliver something truly meaningful, so I presented him with Whooossshh, the story of our little girl Audrey who goes on a magical journey on her daddy’s shoulders.
It was 3 weeks late of course in line with my on going battle with timekeeping. There were tears. (Not mine, his) My god, there were actual tears. Amazingly as the only time I have ever seen him cry was whilst watching Seabiscuit on a long-haul flight to New Zealand . But nevertheless if I could reduce someone as emotionally challenged as my husband to tears, then this was a clear sign that Whoooooosh might just take off. Audrey’s god mummy and artist Helen agreed to do the illustrations, although she still insists she can’t draw – judge for yourselves at a sneak preview. We’ve decided to self-publish (albeit blindly) to retain some control over our product but mainly because agents and publishers take such colossal commission. And although the recession has hit big industries such as publishing, cottage industries seem to be flourishing more than ever, thanks to social networking sites. So aside from this being the most gorgeous story ever, it’s also a rite of passage – the tale of a reluctant journalist and a flitting artist who have committed themselves to writing children’s books.It’s a big ask from two work – commitment phobes – but hey we’re doing it for the kids!