It’s taken me a few days to get round to posting this, but I was at the Children’s Books Ireland Conference in the National Gallery last weekend, where I got to hear some excellent talks.
The conference was kicked off with a thoughtful and inspiring inaugural speech by our new Children’s Laureate, Siobhan Parkinson, who hailed the great success of school libraries, particularly the JCSP project I’m always going on about. She had harsh words for political leaders and a system of education that treat books as a means of teaching reading, rather than teaching reading as a means of accessing books. She made a lovely analogy, picturing the reader as a person who goes to hear an orchestra play, but who takes part in the playing. Writing is the only art that cannot be completed without the audience’s active participation.
Marcus Sedgwick gave an easy-going, funny and fascinating talk with accompanying slide presentation on the story behind his new story, ‘Revolver’. It’s a book with a background set in the Arctic Circle, and part of it in the Alaskan gold rush, with most of the action taking place in a frozen, isolated landscape and hinging on a handgun hidden in a box in a wooden cabin. Sedgwick was one of the highlights of the conference for me. I’ve since started reading the book and I’m liking it so far.
You can see the full run-down on the speakers on David Maybury’s blog here, but every talk was different, stimulating and thought-provoking. Elena Odriozola, whose talk was translated from Spanish, gently and wryly explained her strict, self-imposed requirements for any illustration job, those conditions resulting in a minimalist style that struck me as a weird cross between Oriental art and LS Lowry’s industrial town paintings.
Nikki Gamble gave us some perspective on how different cultures are dealt with in English literature, from picture books upwards, which raised some really interesting questions.
I contributed to the intelligent and profound discourse on the Saturday by punctuating the Two-Minute Favourites with soundbites from Mr T and 24’s Jack Bauer, urging the speakers to ‘Quit your jibber-jabber’, declaring that one should ‘Pity the fool’ and informing them that ‘Right here, right now, you will face justice’ and making other remarks to that effect. That was about my level. The theme was the Bisto Awards, and the speakers were as passionate as ever; ranging from ‘The Summer of Lily and Esme’ to ‘Chalkline’ . They were more succinct than they have ever been too – much to Mr T’s satisfaction.
There was a talk entitled ‘New Beginnings with a group of writers new to the children’s scene (or at least taking a new angle at it): Sarah Rees Brennan, Jane Mitchell, Natasha Mac a’Bhaird, Kieran Mark Crowley and Peter Prendagast each had a slightly different perspective on the publishing process, which would have been of benefit to anyone pitching towards this market themselves.
Saturday ended with a reception in the Oisin Gallery (no, nothing to do with me), where Irene Barber was presented with the CBI Award for her outstanding contribution to children’s books.
Michael Rosen was a brilliant wake-up call on Sunday morning, challenging many of the conventions of our education system (well, the UK’s, but it’s close enough) and he gave us a good laugh in the process. The poem about two parents arguing over who was the most tired struck a real chord with Maedhbh and I, and had us in stitches (‘until I got this tired, I didn’t know it was possible to get this tired!).
Siobhan Parkinson and Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin presented a publishers’ view of translating stories, something we don’t do enough of in Ireland. Though in a market smothered by UK and US publishers, it’s hardly surprising it takes all our effort just to publish Irish stuff as well.
And finally, Anthony Browne was supposed to wind up the conference, as the UK’s current Children’s Laureate, creating a neat book-end to complement Siobhan’s talk at the start, but it was not to be. Iceland’s now notorious volcano, whose name nobody can pronounce, sprayed more ash into the sky, grounding flights, and Niamh Sharkey answered the early morning bat-phone to rush out with a slide presentation and a folder full of artwork to fill in for the grounded Mister Browne, with the enthusiastic help of the ever-present Sarah Webb. I’d seen a lot of this particular talk before, but I still picked up some fresh info from one of Ireland’s top picture book creators. Thanks for saving the day, ladies.
Possibly the weirdest part of the day was seeing a bunch of people (most of them getting on in years) wander in, looking for the usual art lecture that takes place in the gallery on a Sunday afternoon. Apparently, the Anthony Browne talk had been advertised as one of these lectures by the gallery. Little did the newcomers realize that less than an hour later, they would have to stand up with a bunch of grown-ups, rubbing the tops of their heads and wiggling their ears and chanting the Hugglewug Song.
That’ll be the last time they gatecrash a children’s book conference.
Congrats to Mags, Tom, Jenny, their trusty assistants and everyone who helped out with the organization of the conference. Another successful one put to bed. Well done all of you.
