Why I love reading

Can Your Dog Beat Usain Bolt

August 20, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

boltmessing

We love Usain Bolt in this house.

We love his speed, his muscles, and his heroic ability to mess about, in situations of high stress. We love his name. (How perfect is it that he’s called Bolt?) When Bolt wins, even if it’s recorded, we can’t help but cheer. We buy into the whole drama – how Gatlin (trained, drugged, tashed) is The Bad Guy: Bolt is The Good Guy. The thought of him retiring makes us feel we’re leaving a Special Place, never to return. We love him.

At the river, we marked out one hundred yards, then took the dog to the start. Cassady was charged with holding the athlete, Grace with timing, and I had the important job of exciting the athlete, by flinging a ball at the Finish Line.

The first try was a False Start. (The athlete saw the ball, and went early). The second time the timer failed.

On the third, the athlete timed the 100 metres at 7.9 seconds, and that didn’t allow for a slight diversion, when she had to go round the thistles. We now put it to you. Can anyone find an animal to beat us? Would Mr Bolt like to come to our track to come and try a race? We’re not sure we could pay him much, but, if it would help him run, we would be happy to fling a ball.

A snob, a sneerer, and a Selfie Queen

August 19, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

steviefourcardbyGS

Hello friends!

Thank you so much for the character breakdowns, you’ve been sending in, and for the Real Life Creepy Stories. (Do more! Tell me how it feels when you get scared!)

And thank you, too, for the pictures you’ve been sending in, to illustrate the characters that I posted up last week. My favourite is this one, that has come from the divine Gareth Southwell, in Wales. OK, it’s a bit of a cheat, since Gareth is a professional illustrator, who says he could be up for a collaboration.

But anyway, here is his Amelia de la Court, who is the snobby Queen Bee of our tale. (The sort of girl who’s always surrounded by sidekicks, who pick up on her sneers. The sort of girl who tells you about her upcoming birthday, then says you’re not invited…)

Do you know girls like this? Might you tell us about The Worst People In Your School? You can change the names, before sending. My tip is to write down everything they do, that you don’t like, then just to send me a few of their worst habits and actions.

Enjoy! This is the centre of why I love writing: if someone is horrid to us, in real life, it scalds our very insides. But we can write it down, and everyone will relate. In real life, we all feel we’re Cinderella, surrounded by evil sisters… Write to me, my Cinderellas, and we will banish evil with the magic of our tales!

Mr Clover’s Summer Writing School: How To Write Characters

August 12, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

Hello friends! I’m really enjoying the Character Breakdowns you’ve been sending. I’ve got a lot of Superheroes. I’ve had a variation on Batman, a variation on Spiderman, why don’t we try to think of a kind of animal that’s never been a superhero? What could that be?

Duckman? (He can fly. Also he can land on water with a big splash).

Fishman? (When there are baddies, he swims through the air, and stands in front of them blowing bubbles?)

I’ve been doing Character Breakdowns for this TV script I mentioned last week, about the ten year old boy, who thinks he’s the world’s greatest detective. (He’s not. He’s just seen loads on TV…) This is what I’ve come up with so far. As you can see, my main focus has been to think of characters who Rory has strong feelings about. I also like a character who has a contradiction (eg they’re tough, but small). So this is what I’ve got…

Cassady

She is a very exciting person. Rory only knows her because she lives over the fence, otherwise he’d never get to see her. She is one of those naughty, ginger-haired girls who are brilliant at being the centre of attention. Whenever you see her, she’s always surrounded by six people laughing, or she’s letting off a fire extinguisher at the dinner ladies. (This is a picture of someone who’s a bit like how I see her. I think it’s Emily Watson from Perks of Being A Wallflower – such a brilliant film, and book.) hello_world_i__m_your_wild_girl_by_d_n_a_35

Isolde

On Rory’s street, there is a girl called Isolde, who’s always hanging around, hoping for someone to play with. She’s in the year below, and she often knocks on the door, saying “Is Rory able to come outside and play Mrs Flanagan?” Rory hides under the sofa, furiously shaking his head, and sometimes, just to stitch him up, his brother says: “Yes, Isolde, Rory is right here.”

Steven McEver

is Rory’s friend, when he wants to be a bit hard. He’s the kind of guy who you’ll see out and about, throwing a supermarket trolley, onto the motorway. Whenever anyone comes into the playground, he’ll kick a football at their head. He is full of spikey energy, and rebelliousness, and is always spoiling for a fight. It’s partly because he’s so small. He sometimes avoids Rory these days, because he hangs out with Jason Plumb, whose brother is a proper, actual criminal.

Amelia de la Court

is a snob and a bully and an eye-roller. Her dad is the richest person in the area, and she always gives people that look that seems to say I-am-so-much-more-gorgeous-than-you-I-can’t-be-bothered-to-say-I-hate-you. She is Cassady’s main nemesis. (I had a picture of Kyle Jenner to illustrate this, but then got scared I’d be sued.)

Mr Meeton

is a legend. He’s Rory’s favourite teacher by about a mile. He teaches him table-tennis, and says things like: “You need to try out for the District Tournement”. He wears jeans and trainers, and teaches Music. Apparently Mr Meeton was once in the Arctic Monkeys. He even played in their first gig, which was in a school. The only reason Mr Meeton wasn’t in their second gig, was because when the Arctic Monkeys went home after the first gig, Mr Meeton wasn’t in the van. Mr Meeton could have been in the Arctic Monkeys, if it wasn’t for that.

Do you like any of these characters? Paul (the producer of the TV show) has decided that the show will be partly animated – as if Rory is showing off his world, by drawing it. Would someone like to draw pictures of these characters? They don’t have to look great. They have to look like they’ve been drawn by Rory, who’s ten. Do you fancy having a go?

Alien Invasion In Mr Clover’s Writing School

August 11, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

Hello! Hello! Mr Clover here, welcome to the Writing Shed. Come in, please leave your bows and arrows by the door. Now… I have been contacted by several people saying you are busy writing Character Portraits, but you need to go to the beach / need to have a very long wee / want another day. So I am giving you another day. We will gather back here tomorrow, same time (3 pm).

In the meantime, I would like to read out a story from Xanthe (8) in Ashford, which I particularly enjoyed. Her story came out of the first exercise I set, which is where you have to list several boring things that you see around you, and then you must write the words “BUT THEN…” I told you that just writing those words will have a magic effect on your imagination, as if it were being jolted with an electric spark, and then things will happen.

This proved the case with Xanthe’s story. Listen to this…

I am sitting in a messy living room on the floor. The black, murky TV is off. The grey vacuum cleaner is laden with dust. The cold armchair is shadowed by the grey sky.

But then out of nowhere an alien spaceship comes zooming down from the grey sky. There are two green aliens driving. They cut a hole in the ceiling and grab me from the floor. The aliens are called Mog and Bob, they are smelly but kind.

They take me to Space World. There are comets passing in the pink sky. All sorts of planets are on springs out of the Space World. They are on springs because they don’t have gravity so they would float off otherwise. On the planet there are ten houses for each alien. I count how many aliens are on the main planet of space world, there are only 242 aliens that I can see.

Mog and Bob tell me that most of the aliens have flown off on flying ants to invade planets. Mog and Bob used to be human but they got taken to alien world many years ago and everything they ate turned them into aliens but they remembered their human side. They said they were goodies but the other aliens were baddies.

I am worried about an alien invasion so I ask Mog and Bob to bring me back to earth.

When I get home I ask Mummy to boil the kettle of water and bring it outside to stop an invasion. After the water has been poured over the teaming mass of flying ants, I know I have not killed wildlife but I have stopped an alien invasion of earth.

I go back indoors and turn on the black TV and go back to my ordinary day.

These are the things that I particularly like about Xanthe’s story…

I feel that she has opened up her imagination, and let things happen. I can see that hole in the ceiling happening, with the aliens reaching down and grabbing.
I liked the short, but hilarious Character Portrait telling us about the aliens: they “are called Mog and Bob, they are smelly but kind”. [You could tell us more though, Xanthe! Which alien is in charge – Mog or Bob? Which is taller? Do they have any particular habits? Is there something they want? (Does Mog stare out at the black night, scanning the sky for ants?)]
I particularly enjoyed how Xanthe has a rather scientific sort of imagination. She imagines weird things happening, and then explains how they might work. So I love the planets on springs, and that the bad aliens are riding on flying ants. [Weirdly I had a similar idea in fantasy book I wrote, called Dirty Angels, which said that there are aliens on this planet, just they’re all mosquitoes. (How would we know that flying ants aren’t from other planets? Has anyone asked them?)]

Before posting it, I adjusted two things about Xanthe’s story:

She had jumped from the present tense to the past, and back again. This is very very common. I like to write in the present tense, where everything is happening, right now, and it’s more active, but it’s much harder. You can’t stop a story to explain things. You can get away with that more in the past tense, which is more traditional.

I took a little bit out of the story. It contained more ideas that were wonderful, but which stopped the story a little. This brings me to the oldest writing tip in the human world: you must show, don’t tell. In this case, it means that Xanthe’s heroine should discover all sorts of things that happen on her planet, and can’t just tell the readers. It would be fun to imagine her sneaking about the planet, then seeing an evil alien fly off, on an ant. I would love to hear about that! (Do the aliens get shrunk to fit on its back? Do they have to hold on with some kind of reins?)

Perhaps Xanthe didn’t quite know what to do, on the strange world where she’d ended up. There’s a common feature about stories in strange worlds: usually the heroes of them must find a strange leader, and must help defeat them. Perhaps this is why Mog and Bob have hi-jacked Xanthe: they had noticed she had special powers that would help their struggle.

Anyway, I thank Xanthe, and, since her story has been the main event of this week’s session, I shall send her some Cool Stuff. In this case, I would like to send her one of my favourite books – Fortunately the Milk, a collaboration between two of the great geniuses working in this field: the StoryMaster Neil Gaiman, and reining Children’s Laureate Chris Riddell, the finest illustrator in the world! This book, like Xanthe’s, involves lots of aliens, crazy ideas, and it goes at a galloping speed. (You can read it in half an hour, which I love).

You’re all sending me Character Portraits for tomorrow. But Xanthe’s story makes me want to set a challenge for next week…

Write a story – starting with a ‘BUT THEN’ – that goes to a strange world. In that world you will find some things that are good, some things that are bad, and you will find a leader, who you must defeat, using your special powers. Got that! OK! So get writing my friends! And please give a round of applause for Xanthe?

Oh, before you got I’ve got to tell you a joke… Did you know that Bob Dylan has actually written a song, based on Xanthe’s story? Oh yes. It’s on The FreeWheelin Bob Dylan… He wrote a song about ants, flying in the wind, but he says that the ants are actually friendly. Get your mum to find the song. Its chorus says:

The ants are my friends,

They’re blowing in the wind,

The ants, sir, are blowing in the wind.

Big News In Mr Clover’s School

August 4, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

Sherlock

Hello my cheeky friends!

Thank you so much for the Premises you’ve been sending in for your stories. What is with all the unicorns? A veritable herd of unicorns have been sent my way. They’ve been prodding me with their horns, and whinnying through my subconscious. (Clearly unicorns are in the air, my friends, which tells me this: someone is going to make a fortune with a unicorn story. Perhaps it could be you).

Meanwhile we’re all dreaming of fortunes in the Clover house, after the Big News…

We were visited by Paul McKenzie this week, who produces comedies and kids’ shows on TV (he’s done Hetty Feather, and Sadie J, and Boys Meets Girl, and, just, everything). I was laughing about my favourite premise of the week, which came from my gorgeous daughter Cassady (13) who sent me…

“My premise is about a boy called Rory, who really really really wants to be a detective, because he’s seen a lot of Sherlock. Only problem is: he’s actually not clever or brilliant at all. He has a Sherlock coat, but it’s just a cagoule. And you know when Sherlock goes into his Thought Palace, and words go across the screen, saying things like “radioactive”, and “weapon activation”? Rory does that, but the words say things like “I need a wee” and “jam”. And everyone tries to stop him being a detective. But then a dinner lady at the school gets murdered, and Rory is determined to figure out who did it. And he keeps sneaking back into the school, until finally he finds a real actual murderer, and then he defeats him, by making a big bomb using a Bunsen Burner and a locust tank, and then he escapes out of the window, onto a trampoline...”

I just loved this premise, which gives you several of the important things in a Premise: ( 1) what the hero wants, (2) what problems they have, and (3) what methods they use.

And Paul liked the premise too. And he said: “Why don’t you try writing a script and I’ll take it to CBBC?” So now an actual commission has come from this writing school. Only problem, I had to offer Cassady (1) 50% of the first script fee (when it comes) (2) had to promise a character in the show called Cassady and (3) a trip to see Rocky Horror Picture Show (playing tonight at the Marlowe Theatre). This sort of thing could happen to you. Get writing!

In the meantime, Paul has now set the next task for the school. He has challenged me – as I challenge you – to write up Character Breakdowns for the characters. Character Breakdowns are the most fun things to write. You just describe characters who might turn up into your story, saying things like (1) how they help / stop your hero, (2) what they want, (3) what is unusual about them, (4) what habits do they have?

I’m going to start off with the character of Cassady, who will be obsessed with dancing. And maybe Rory likes to spy on her. Oh yes… I’m going to enjoy this challenge. Hope you do too.

The Guinea Pig Murder

July 29, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

10 52 pm. I am performing that classic Man Task (one of the few still allotted to us): I am locking up the house. I’ve locked the kitchen door, locked the front, when I realise I’ve made a Dangerous Error – I’ve left the guinea pigs out.

The Boys spend their day outside. They have an enclosure fashioned from chicken wire and tent pegs where they can run about, though, in truth, they usually choose to spend the day in The Shelter. They don’t seem highly masculine beasts, but, in this, the guinea pigs are classic males: they’re happy to spend the day lying around and shitting themselves. That’s their ideal day in fact. They lie about, shit a bit, then they like to rush outside to (1) have a quick fight then (2) to nibble grass.

It is not, however, the ideal night.

As night falls, our garden becomes a place of evil. The foxes have so far eaten thirteen hens. There are also badgers, weasels, owls, and – these are the most plausible pig-killers – there is also, nearby, a barn full of young wild cats. Oh they look sweet, but those cats terrorise the neighbourhood. Some of them are young boys, and I just know it… At some point, they’re going to find them catwithgun selves sneaking up on the wire enclosure, and their senses will be tingling as they smell out the truth of it: There are some big rodents in there, those cats will be thinking, and they don’t look like they’d be much good in a fight.

I unlock the back door, feeling very worried.

Luckily, as I do so, I’m joined by my daughter Grace. (She’s the ideal ally in a spot like this. She’s a marvellously capable and good-humoured girl, who’s got the ability to pop up like Mary Poppins, just when you need her.) I tell her what’s happened. She hands me the torch. We go out to the bottom of the garden, where the Boys have their Daytime Residence.

It’s empty.

The enclosure is sound too. It’s clear the boys haven’t escaped out the bottom. It’s clear what has happened: a fox has got them.

“Why haven’t we learned our lesson?” I say to Grace. “We knew this would happen from the chickens!” I can imagine what happened, and I’m seething with unease and self-hatred.

“Let me have the torch one moment?” says Grace. I pass it. “There they are,” she says, expertly picking them out, huddling under a clump of grass.

As she picks them up, and leads them inside, I get a great whoosh of relief. I also get a very clear Life Rule, and I shall spell it out for you now: Sometimes things aren’t quite as bad as you think. Don’t lacerate yourself with incriminations and guilt. Just take one last look in the grass.

Mr Clover’s Summer Writing School

July 28, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

missperegrine'shome Hello, hello, come in, welcome to the school!

Well… maybe school seems the wrong word. I don’t imagine this happens in a building. I see us assembling outside an old shack, at the edge of the forest. There’s an informal atmosphere. Soon children will be standing up, to astonish the group, with tales of What Will Happen When Crocodiles Talk, and The True Story Of How My Brother Nearly Died.

And you’ve astonished me this week, because people have been writing in from round the United Kingdom, including one – hello Steven! – who is spending his summer, staying in the Orkney Isles, with his ancient great uncle, and about four thousand sheep. Several of you have been swapping recommendations. (Several teenagers are craving more John Green. How about a couple of the books John Green recommends himself – eg We Were Liars and Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children? The pic is from that.)

Best of all, several of you have sent in ideas that have occurred to you last week, and here are a few good ones…

IDEA: I come down to breakfast to find my mum is a hedgehog.

IDEA: A lonely boy makes friends with a ghost and solves the mystery of what kills him.

IDEA: A girl buys a special perfume which makes her irresistibly popular to everyone she meets.

For some reason, most writers were between the ages of 9 and 14. (You can be any age, at the Writing School, even adults. At this point, I’m setting you the same exercises I’d be setting if I was running a team of grown-up writers, working on a TV show). But the idea that tickled me the most was from Sam, who was my youngest writer this week (he’s five)….

IDEA: There is a frog who has one very very strong leg and it is so strong he can kick baddies into outer space.

I really laughed at that one, which set my imagination working. (Does the frog have another leg, which is actually quite weak? How often does he kick baddies into outer space? Does he accidentally kick someone who he actually likes and get forced to rescue him?) These are the things I’m thinking about. And these are the questions you will develop…

I would like you, please, to take one (or more) of your IDEAS, and try writing the story of what happens. Not in detail: I’m after what we’d call a PREMISE. That’s where you write between 6 and 15 lines. If you’re not sure what might happen, just try telling yourself the story.

Good luck! Have fun!

Mr Clover

Time to say goodbye

July 25, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

back of little girl going to school Anyone else who’s even now just recovering from the Say-Goodbye-to-Year-6 end of term ceremony?

Ours didn’t start emotional, in our little country church. Not really. (I’m used to North London, where the parents always watch their kids, as if they’re at the O2, watching Beyonce. Country people aren’t like that. Doesn’t matter who’s on stage, we stare, as if we’re in a market, watching a bloke, who’s saying something about cows. )

And yet it’s terribly moving.

The youngest ones chant a rhyme to the leavers: “We know that we will miss you/ But we say goodbye.” Year 1 hold up portraits of them. Woodpeckers Class, show lovely pictures of the
leavers, all broadcast, to music, on the wall of the church. They include predictions: “Woodpeckers think Mike will be a rock musician, who is nine foot tall.” Adjectives fire up, that Woodpeckers associate with Mike: “Epic, funny, kind.” Pictures appear too – our heroes walking to school, in the first days of Reception – and as I look up at them – broadcast on the wall like legends – I realise how well I’ve got to know them, how much I like them.

And like all of the parents present, I am particularly aware of two in particular – Sarah and Reuben, who lost their mother (Gisela) at the start of the year. It’s been such a delicate year. We’ve all felt incredibly protective of the two children – we’ve been glad to exchange friendly words at the gate – at the same time, we tried not to fuss, or to stare.

But as Year 6 stand to sing the Year 6 song, we can’t help but watch. Gisela had such a buoyant spirit; I can’t believe she’s gone. And as the song starts, I’m worried Sarah will be thinking that too. I’m also, in truth, concerned for the song. The first singers are the Year 6 boys, who may – as predictions said – one day become Top Gear presenters, and nine foot tall musicians. They are definitely, though, not singers.

But Sarah is.

Her father is a musician, and Gisela had a magnificent way about her: she had a lightness about life; it amused her. She was particularly interested in religion, which amused her too. She didn’t believe in miracles; her religion was practical. “I just try to… focus on the moment,” she’d say.

And actually as Sarah waits for her cue in the song, she’s doing exactly that: she’s is concentrating on her song. But then her cue comes, and she smiles radiantly as she sings: “Feel the rain on your skin/ No one can else can feel it for you / no one else, no one else / can speak the words on your lips / Drench yourself in words unspoken / live your life with arms wide open…”

It’s a great chorus. It’s defiantly optimistic. And Sarah is happily singing it, with a confidence, which gradually spreads to the whole of Year 6, who finishes it acapella, chanting out loud: “Feel the rain on your skin / no one else can feel it for you…”

There’s Beyonce style applause at the end.

At the back, we’re standing to our feet and we’re cheering. In truth, the singing was only so-so, but some of us haven’t cheered in years, and besides it’s the last chance we might get to give those kids some love, so we just stand and cheer like fools. (I’m really feeling overcome at this point. I’m actually terrified I might cry. But then my new country instincts kick in, coupled with my ancient boyish ones, and I tell myself: You cannot be crying. Get it together. Now.)

But then luckily I am distracted from the intense emotion, as the head stands to make her end of term sermon… (It’s not her fault. She’s a great head; she can’t be a Great Entertainer). But her main problem is she’s doing the sermon, the Take Home Message, when Sarah – channelling the spirit of her wise mother, no less – has already done that.

What do you do when bad things happen? You feel the rain on your skin, and when your cue comes, you sing.

Write a story about your holidays before you go back to school

July 22, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

Hello my cheeky friends!

It is a glorious thing, isn’t it? The sun is shining. The summer holidays are stretching before us. It is time for walking down the street sucking ice lollies.

It is also the perfect time for all things to do with books.

What do you do on these hot evenings? It’s too hot for the Xbox. It’s time to spread a rug, under a tree. It’s time to read.

It is also the time to write.

You will have an amazing summer, if, while you’re having your own excitements in real life, you do some writing. Not just because, come September, you will feel fantastic if you’ve written your own story, or drawn your own comic, but because writing stories makes your whole life feel more adventurous.

But possibly you have not the first clue how to get started.

And that is why I am inviting you all to join Mr Clover’s Summer Workshop, during which I shall set you fun challenges, that will help to make your stories grow in your imaginations.

Right… Here is the first one…

Suggestion One: Get a notebook

Much is going on, as the holidays begin. Use your notebook to start keeping a diary. You don’t need to say everything – just what you learned that day (I’m keeping one in the Parents section). The important thing is to get into the habit of noticing what is happening.

This is important, because, in these next few days, my friends, you will be getting ideas for stories.

Yes, my friends, you will notice – if you keep a look out – that in the next few days, ideas for stories will be fluttering into your heads like butterflies. You’ll be having a dreamy moment, and for a second, you’ll imagine a story you’d quite like to write. Find your diary, and get those ideas down. You might want to try several. A good trick, also, would be to write down TEN IDEAS quite quickly. “IDEA: I’d like write a detective story, set in a school.” “IDEA: imagine if all the teachers turned into dinosaurs…”

If you get any good ones, send them in. When we gather here next week (Thursday 3 pm) I’ll read out some good ones. Till then, have fun,

Mr Clover

Children, become Writer of the Week and win cool stuff

July 17, 2016 by Andrew Clover Leave a Comment

Hurrah and hooperloolerlay!

I am in the running to become the new Night Zoo Keeper. Night Zoo Keeper is, by about a hundred miles, the coolest website for getting kids to enjoy their writing, so, if you’re a School Visitor asked to become the Zoo Keeper, that’s like being an actor, invited to play Batman.

I hear I’m up against someone brilliant (a former kids’ presenter, who’s got a string of bestselling books), and to clinch the job I must come up with some excellent Story Starters, which have got a proven success for getting kids writing.

So in a moment I’m going to set you a suggestion. Please try writing, in response to this, and send me your results – even if they’re not that good, just send ‘em. (Clover Rule One: don’t write quality, write quantity). The best one will be selected Writer of the Week. They will be feted, and photographed, and will be sent cool stuff.

Here’s the suggestion…

A story starts with the word but

Start a story, in the very spot you’re sitting. Notice three things that are being deliberately boring. Describe them. Emphasise their tantalising tediousness: as you do, you will feel a word coming that will explode the boringness, and kick the adventure into action – the word “but”. Write “but” and then the first sentence of the adventure.

Here’s the first one, from Ella in Sturry.

I was sitting at my mum’s computer. In front of me, a tin of old pens gathered dust. Some dying nettles scratched at the window. Some books stood on the shelf before me. They were silent, undread, dull. But then I noticed that one of them started to jiggle.

It wobbled towards me, then it dived off the shelf, onto the desk, with a bang.

It had opened on page 76, which started with the words “Go into the garden, and find the old gnome…”