Hellfire memories, colding it, and a grey ballet

Story Street #16

Welcome to Story Street – if you’re new to this newsletter, read on for ramblings about my life as a picture book maker, comic diarist, and very, very amateur luthier. Today is Hourly Comics Day, so together with comic-makers all over the world I’ll be trying to record each hour of the day in comic panels… and for me, it’s all going to be about the minutiae of violin-making. Story Street is sent out on the first of each month, so I’ll show you some instrument-making workshop scenes on March 1^st.

Since it’s frogspawn season, I’m going to share some recipes for squidgy, gloopy things: keep reading to find out more. But first, here’s a few interesting things I came across in January…

Grey ballet

At the beginning of the year, I thought I’d give myself a creative day out – the plan was to soak up ideas for stories and paintings at London Zoo and Tate Britain. It was a dreary damp day, and all the animals were hiding in their heated quarters; then at the Tate I ended up slightly overwhelmed with too much top-quality art.

But on the way to catch the bus home, I saw something mesmerising and wonderful: a flock of pigeons doing the best they possibly could do to recreate a starling murmuration – swooping, switching and swirling over the sluggish brown Thames by Vauxhall Bridge, a glorious raggedy whole seemingly moving just for the pure joy of it.

This grey ballet really lifted my January…

Darning distractions

Another happening that left me reaching for my art materials was the Orange Beak Studio talk from utterly inspiring Canadian illustrator/author Sydney Smith – twice winner of the Kate Greenaway medal. During the two-hour session, he talked about pacing, materials, and the influence of film on his work. It was wonderful.

Here’s me watching the recording while darning socks – I had to keep putting the mending down to make notes.

“Each project I need to feel like a beginner again. I want to find something that excites me. If you define success by the risks that you take, then you’ve already succeeded before it’s gone to print”  - Sydney Smith

Sydney also showed how some of his urban sketches became the actual artwork for Small in the City. I think he’d have liked those Vauxhall Bridge pigeons…

The talk inspired me the very next morning to pack my materials for a couple of hasty, scrappy, chilly sketches on the way to my fiddle lesson at the Irish Cultural Centre in Hammersmith – if you are a fan of Silent Witness, you might recognise the exact place the first body was found in episode 3 of the new season!

Another thing that intrigued me in Sydney’s talk was his use of ‘paste paper’  – you can make it yourself with cornflour (cornstarch if you’re in the US), to thicken paints and pigments. Naturally I was bursting to have a go at this… I found a recipe online, and soon had a gloop ready to go.

Sadly I hated everything I made with the paper paste (so far at least), and was overwhelmed by the urge to cut it up for the comfort of collage. But I’m still glad I tried something new…

If you missed the talk, I did find an excellent short video about Sydney Smith’s process here. But I also HEARTILY recommend signing up for Orange Beak’s newsletter, so you don’t miss any upcoming talks:

Hellfire memories

I’ve got a few nice illustration projects coming up over the next few weeks. First is a family trail for the National Trust property, West Wycombe, which is blessed with numerous temples scattered around a swan-shaped lake. I’m having fun thinking up ideas to get children to seek those classical follies out eagerly. West Wycombe is the home of the Dashwood family, and in the 1700s Sir Francis Dashwood caused quite a stir with his notoriously debauched Hell-Fire Club, which involved members dressing up as monks and drinking copiously.

Chatting to my client on Zoom, I was reminded of a visit I made in my own childhood to the Hellfire Caves where the meetings were once held – which proved to be every bit as frightening as they sound. Strategically positioned life-size figures suddenly start talking when you approach them – I WAS TERRIFIED!

I learned from the West Wycombe guidebook that when the caves opened to the public for the first time in 1951, a local vicar reported: “my tummy wobbles like a jelly every time I pass the entrance”. I know what he means… thinking about those caves still gives me the shivers. I’m glad I only have to draw the temples.

Colding it

I’ve mentioned in previous newsletters the local nursery I visit once a week, for an hour of stories and art.

We start each session with playdough, which mostly involves the children making pretend food which I pretend to eat – and then they tell me it has slugs in, I pretend to be sick, and we all laugh a lot.

Every couple of months I make a fresh batch of playdough, using a recipe I was given over 25 years ago when my own children were at playgroup. It’s so satisfying to make – all the ingredients go in a pan over a gentle heat, then you stir the sticky mess with a faithful heart until suddenly it coheres into perfect playdough. Here’s that recipe, just in case you’d like to give it a try: put in a pan 1 cup flour, 1 cup water, half a cup salt, 1 tablespoon sunflower oil, 2 teaspoons cream of tartar and a few drops of food colouring. Still over gentle heat until done. That’s it!

I like to make the playdough just before I go to the nursery as the children love handling it while it’s still warm. Once, I was worried it was TOO hot for little fingers, and suggested rolling it flat to cool it – until one of the children cried out in utmost anguish, “DON’T COLD IT!”  

Here’s a page from my comic diary where I completely misunderstood a playdough request, and lovingly made an acorn instead of a unicorn. The children never let me forget it…

Visiting the nursery is a joy to me – the children are so funny and affectionate, and they have also given me ideas for stories more times than I can count. My books Pink Lion, The Boy Who Loved Everyone (illustrated by Maisie Paradise Shearring) and Let’s Get Ready for School (illustrated by Carolina Rabei) were all directly inspired by the children at nursery over the years. It’s also very useful to me as a picture book maker to have the chance to read to my target audience once a week and see what they enjoy.

One brand new book that went down particularly well with the group is Measuring Me by Nicola Kent.

It’s full of fascinating facts - did you know that if you unravelled all your veins, they’d stretch three times around the world? That blew my mind!

It also has a marvellous pull-out height chart in the back. We had a great time at nursery checking everyone’s height in baked bean tins. And TODAY is publication day - congratulations, Nicola!

There’s another book that’s just come out that I think is going to be a HUGE success. Pablo and Splash is Sheena Dempsey’s first graphic novel for children – it’s a classic and very funny ‘odd couple’ story, about two penguins with very different personalities and dreams deciding to go on holiday – with time-travelling consequences. I can’t wait to give a signed copy to Albermarle Primary School, where they have just started a comics club.

Something violin-shaped

I was very happy to get back to the violin-making workshop in January. I still haven’t started my actual violin, but I have now at least made something violin-shaped. This is my template, hand-planed from a chunk of spruce, then cut out on the scroll saw, and finally sanded and polished into something I’m really proud of…

Wistful musings

Five years ago, I had a phase of writing poetry. I would wistfully lean against trees with a small notebook, playing with word combinations and gazing at the sky for inspiration. For some reason I stopped – but now, for 2024, I’ve joined with two local friends to start a poetry club, and we’re writing a poem a month to a shared prompt. It’s a joy to have kick-started this habit again.

I’ve often thought that writing a picture book text and writing a poem have a lot in common – distilling observations and emotions into a compact, empathetic jewel.

They may not be perfect, but the idea that I’ll have 12 poems in a folder by the end of the year is pleasing. I had some poetical inspiration during a lovely weekend in Swansea with my sister a couple of weeks ago: we popped into the Dylan Thomas Centre where you can see the door of his writing shed – saved from a skip! Here it is:

We also had a marvellous time at the Gower Heritage Centre, where a Wassailing and Mari Lwyd festival was in full swing. Ribbon-bedecked snapping horse skulls, trees covered with toast, fire jugglers, riotous singing and pouring cider onto apple tree roots to ensure a good harvest were all part of the merriment – and we even made some ‘Souly Bread Dolls’ (another Celtic tradition for a good harvest).

January ended with a return visit to Stepping into Stories, reading from my non-fiction book So You Want To Be A Frog (illustrated by Neil Clark and published by Walker Books) and inducting children into frog club – including a badge. It’s a very interactive book and huge fun to read with a group…

…and TODAY is paperback publication day!

There have been some lovely reviews –

“FIVE STARS. If you are looking for an innovative, engaging picture book which simultaneously teaches you lots of interesting facts about frogs, then this is the perfect read! … I thoroughly enjoyed this beautifully illustrated book … an extremely clever and fresh look at frogs.” Books for Keeps

“Fabio Frog gives readers the scoop on how they can be fabulous frogs…and a clever dose of frog facts to boot… Croaking, frog paleontology, keeping cool, and eating habits are also covered along with some random facts that are sure to amaze and astound any audience.” Kirkus Reviews

If you’d like a copy, you can order one with the button below (or in any good bookshop). And there are lots of great events still to come over the weekend, so do go along if you are near Herne Hill.

Before I go, I’m going to share an unexpected January triumph: I was over at my Mum’s house and she asked if I’d look and see what was in a box in the attic. LUCKILY I had forgotten to wear a belt, and my trousers had been slipping down all day… and THAT’s how I detected a leak that could have gone unnoticed for months! Thankyou, ill-fitting trousers - there’s a moral there somewhere, I’m just not sure what it is yet…

I’m going to leave you with a burst of spring from the kitchen table – happy February! Don’t forget it’s #HourlyComicsDay today if you fancy joining in… and if you’re not already signed up to this newsletter, click this button for more from me next month!