Thursday, 6 August 2009
Run to the shops!
I haven't actually seen it on a bookshelf yet but Dymocks online already have it on their website as do Readings bookshops in Melbourne. Dymocks is an advance for me as they didn't stock Lab Rats in Space. Not sure about Angus and Robertson, the other major Australian bookseller.
Physically the book looks great. The little egg head character that got axed from one of the versions of the cover made it to the back cover which I'm delighted about. The inside front pages are also lined like a school book and fun.
All up I'm very happy with it indeed.
I have about 8 school visits lined up over the next few weeks so I'll have to see how it goes down reading wise. When I've told schools about 'my next book' and mentioned the principals gives the students pills, the kids have gasped in shock - exactly as I'd want.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
And the winner is...
I did like Number 2 but poi
nted out to the publishers that there were similarities to The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. The typeface is virtually the same, the 3-part title-in-the-middle structure and the outline figure are quite familiar. I'm hoping my book will also be featuring "Winner Whitbread Book of the Year" on the cover. The 'covers committee' at Harper Collins (yes they have a committee!) has now suggested going for Cover 3 with the tomato sauce to be more of a splodge and less of a Dexter-esque blood pour. The pills will be made to look more like capsules than the latest ecstasy tablet. I'm happy with this.
Judging a book by its cover
I've always maintained that this is perfectly possible and if you can't, something has gone wrong. I tested the case with one group of kids at Waitara. I showed them the covers without saying anything about the book and asked them what it was about. They said it was aimed at boys. Most said aged between 8 and 12, some said a bit younger, others older. They all agreed it was a comedy but was a little bit scary too. The book was about there being poison in food or about a boy who hated Tomato Sauce. One young boy developed quite an interesting plot about a boy who thought all the food he was given has something wrong with it and was scared of eating.
I could see how they could tell this from the covers. However they went on to say the book was set mainly in one place in Australia and it didn't move around very much. They were spot on, but I still can't see how they worked that out from the covers. Quite brilliant.
Manuscript Complete
I have completely finished writing the book with the final manuscript now submitted. I had a strange block on the final sentence. It just needed tidying up to make it clearer but I couldn't do it! It took me over 24 hours to fix. Talk about coming a cropper at the final hurdle. The last word is 'do'.
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
It’s not brain surgery, but it’s close
One of the lovely things about writing books, and especially children’s books, is the enormous good will you receive from virtually everyone. I can think of few other professions where you can ask for help and it is so eagerly given. Imagine an accountant coming to you, asking for some help in putting together their figures - short shrift I would imagine. Not as a writer. For a scene in The Trouble with Sauce I needed some technical information on brain surgery: parts of the brain and implements used, so I turned to Adam, a psychiatrist friend. His eagerness to help was a treat: he did some research and even consulted his colleagues at the hospital where he works. They were all fascinated and equally enthusiastic. On being given the outline of the plot, the child psychiatric specialist gave it a thumbs up in appealing to boys.
The net result was sitting with Adam in the cafe beside the El Alamein fountain in Kings Cross being presented with a delicious array of new words. We giggled over the names of the implements: Raney Clip, Cottoniod Sponges and the splendid Caspar Vertebral Body Distractor. What fun I could have with a ‘body distractor’! It sounds like a surgical belly dancer who seductively arouses and distracts the body while the brain is hacked into. There is also a host of different ‘ronguers’: pituitary, Ruskin (a rhyming rongeur perhaps?) and trimline. However, the perfect implement for Trouble was the wonderfully descriptive Brain Retractor. It was even more thrilling when I looked up pictures of it. (See below).
I was like a child in a toy shop who thinks he knows all the toys there were, suddenly then discovers a whole new section to play with.
