Writer's Block

I don't need eyes in the back of my head to see a mule's load slipping!

-Marigold started going weird again on her birthday...

-I'm drowning. I'm going to die...

..in the darkness, behind the tea chests.

"You can do this!" he told himself. "You really can do this!" He hadn't convinced his body.

There's nothing like a good story.

I love to immerse myself in a good book, and being here,

in a bookshop, is heaven for me, because it's full of great books by some terrific writers,

especially here in the Children's section. To be a writer must be a lovely job.

I'd like to have a go, but where do you start?

My ideas just come from anywhere and everywhere. They're unexpected.

It might be an overheard remark, a situation you observe in the street,

in public, or it might be an article in a newspaper. It can be a very tiny trigger.

I wish I knew where I get my ideas from - then I could bottle it!

For most writers, the biggest worry, or for me, is running out of ideas.

I never get a whole, huge, long, detailed idea for a book,

but every now and then there will be just some tiny image that appeals to me and I think, "Mm, I like that."

A lot of the time, ideas hunt you down, and you don't really invent them. They come looking for you.

All good stories need a good beginning... a good middle...and a good end.

It's very important to have a good opening to a story.

I try harder on openings than anything else.

It hooks the reader - the cliche of the dead body on page one.

If you can with the opening line, fantastic.

I spend most of my time on the first third, getting characters and language right, the tone right.

I think I'm looking for the moment the story takes on its own life.

In my books, I tend to start characters just as they approach change,

something will change in their lives, usually for the worst cos you want a story! Something dramatic

that will change their lives, and it gets worse before it gets better!

I think stories need resolution - especially stories for children. That is not to say happy endings.

I don't think all ends have to be tied up neatly, to be resolved, but I don't like cheat endings at all.

I want to be rewarded with an uplifting feeling, or a different view on the world.

The subject should really dictate what the shape of the story is like.

A great story like Moby Dick takes the form of a quest,

a great adventure across the seas, and the story feels like a journey.

It can become very flat, marooned, and then it goes on again and chases the whale.

When you write a story, it must be interesting all the way through,

from cover to cover, even when it's a short story.

It was the weirdest thing. I looked into the darkness and I felt it looking right back at me.

That's right. It was alive. Some people think darkness is just a place where there's no light,

but they haven't been down Tranter Loudon's Kitchen. The darkness there is rich and patterned like a quilt.

The deeper you go into it, the more you see. There are faces there. Twisted limbs, presences.

You wouldn't understand unless you'd been inside that darkness. I have.

For a while, I thought it had me.

The whole thing started about five years ago, when I was 13.

Some workmen were digging a water main. They found a way into Tranter Loudon's Kitchen, as it's known -

a vast network of sandstone tunnels and caverns below the streets.

Loudon was a preacher here in Oakfield in the 18th century. It seems he lived down there.

He was a loner, by all accounts. The darkness beneath the town suited him.

Then the kids started to disappear. In just a few weeks, half a dozen boys and girls vanished.

Wasn't long before everybody said Tranter Loudon had them and was boiling them up for supper.

Nonsense, of course, but they ran him out of town, though some say he just went back underground.

Kids have been disappearing ever since - not often, but often enough to make you wonder.

It's the Tranter Loudon legend.

Once those workmen unearthed his strange world, all sorts of rumours started about gold rings, and coins.

It was the idea of hidden treasure that grabbed Craig's attention. Find the right tunnel and we'd be rich!

So one summer holiday we booked ourselves a guided tour.

On the day, we were the only ones at the tunnel opening.

The guide, an old boy with a limp, didn't look too pleased at having to open up for some kids,

but he took us anyway.

The moment I was down there, in that staring darkness, I wanted out.

-I don't think this is a good idea.

-Don't be such a wimp!

You afraid of Tranter Loudon and his cooking pot?

'My stomach filled with a dull ache. Fear was chewing up my insides.

'We were about 20 minutes in when Craig did it! He grabbed me arm and dragged me down a tunnel!

'It had a sign - "Danger! Keep out!"' < Hey!

Hey!

'It didn't take us long to lose him.

'With that leg, he'd never catch us.

-'Craig pulled out a flashlight from his rucksack.'

-Ready to search for treasure?

Craig! I really think we should just...go back!

'But he wouldn't have it.

'He was determined to press forward.

'As we penetrated deeper into the blackness, I began seeing differences in the gloom.

'It was as if there were different planes of darkness, all shifting.

'So, on we went, until we came across something that wasn't part of any tour.

'Up ahead, there was a line of candles.

-Who could've done that?

-Let's go back!

-'But Craig was having none of it.'

-I've seen something!

-'He threw down his torch.

'He picked up one of the candles to guide his way.'

-I've found it!

-'There, glittering in the half-lit gloom

-'were rings, coins, goblets, all made of gold, so it seemed to me!'

-We're rich!

'He handed me some of the stuff and started shoving the rest into his rucksack.'

'Then, the candles blew out! How, I don't know. There wasn't a breath of wind in that dank tunnel.

'The darkness grew fingers and nails, scratching my arms and legs.

'I heard Craig trying to find the torch but it was out, just like the candles. Craig was sobbing.

'Something clawed my clothes. Craig was still scrabbling for the torch!

'It was something else, right there beside me! A creature of the intense gloom!

-'That's when the darkness roared!' Craig! The treasure! Give it back!

-Never! Finders keepers!

HE GASPS WITH FEAR

'There was a second voice, echoing and chattering in the blackness. Saying a prayer, or a curse.

'It was too dulled in the velvet dark to make out the words.

'It could've been the scamper of a rat, except that it was in some way, some foul, cold way, human!'

This isn't ours! It belongs to Tranter Loudon!

'So I let my share vanish into the swarming darkness.

'Immediately, the tearing, sucking presence fell away. I could go!

'Not Craig. He clung to the dark, and it clung to him.

'Then, I heard something. A butcher sound, in the gloom.

'Like the crunch of bones. The crack of cartilage, the splash of blood! I shouted Craig's name...'

CRAIG! CRAIG!

CRAIG WAILS

'All I could hear was the reverberating crunch, crack, splash, and then something bubbling!

'I ran for my life, fighting the raging, scuttering blackness,

'more alone, more scared then I've ever been!'

There he is! 'The rescue team discovered me a few hours later,

'half-dead with fright.

'Craig's never been found.'

'To this day, when I'm lying in bed, I hear a bubbling sound in the night.

'I've got a feeling I know what's cooking in the kitchen.'

These are the Joseph Williamson Tunnels -

the inspiration for my story, Tunnel Vision.

At the start of the 19th century, Williamson established these tunnels,

and they inspired my horror story, set under the city of Liverpool.

There's this huge network of tunnels under the city - an alternative city

of darkness and mystery, and I wanted to locate a horror story here,

in this magnificent achievement.

Once I'd heard about the tunnels, the ideas hung about in my head. I'd thought about it,

and then I came across this article and it added the final piece, but there were mysteries about them -

people going missing, jewellery discovered. The story was on its way.

Tunnel Vision began with an idea that darkness had to be a character.

Darkness was absolutely central, and so the darkness itself was a thing drawing you in,

and it was dangerous, and it tested you, and slowly I wanted to bring out a character you could hinge on,

that wasn't just darkness but one who emerged from the darkness.

In the first paragraph I set up the mood of scariness, and start dropping hints. The story must say,

"Read me!" as if two hands come out of the story and grab your eyeballs.

I wanted pace, and snappy sentences, so they've got to be short.

You don't want loads of subordinate clauses or long descriptions.

Like building up pebbles to create a statue -

short sentences with strong verbs.

The characters are based on people I know.

One is me - the cautious narrator,

cos all my friendships were built on my mates wanting to get in scrapes, and me going,

"Do you think we should?!" and I was the one being dragged along, but I always went and did the adventures,

'but I thought about it afterwards.' Craig!

I think we should just...go back!

I wanted really powerful metaphors, and images, and similes

like "darkness patterned like quilt".

We don't see it as different colours.

We imagine red, blue, green... I wanted planes of darkness -

a "creature of intense gloom"... "darkness roared" - the darkness is a thing...an animal

that will seize a person who merges into it, and "velvet" darkness,

both comforting and suffocating,

because the whole world of the story is of darkness and its complications.

When it comes to the end, there's always a pressure to make it happy,

and to tie everything up. I was aware that in a horror story, which is challenging

about whether this person survives, then you should have a sense of loss.

What I went for was that the narrator survives,

'but the other character is destroyed. I got a sense of loss, and a moral ending.' CRAIG!

'He is destroyed because he makes a particular choice, and there are consequences to that choice.'

Four elements can be termed "beginning" "middle" and "end" -

the opening, the complication, the crisis and the resolution - the structure of most effective stories.

I open with the sense that these two are going on an adventure into that darkness that could be dangerous,

then it becomes complicated, because within this darkness there is someone dangerous and threatening,

then the crisis - this dark force emerges, and then the resolution -

will you give back the treasure the character thinks you have stolen,

or hang on to it and be destroyed?

That is the framework of this story that paces it and gives a satisfying structure.

The opening of the story should establish the narrative voice,

and introduce some of the main characters.

Here, we have a modern romantic tale of boy meets girl.

Then comes the complication.

The rest of the story is spent trying to solve the problem.

The most dramatic moment in the story is the crisis.

It's the point of no return.

HE SCREAMS

The resolution of a story can be closed, where all the loose ends are tied up...

Or open, where the writer deliberately leaves the reader guessing.

So, here I am. I've got my coffee, my pens, my notebook... But where do I start?

Hmm. What type of story am I going to write? Well, I like all sorts of stories,

but I've got to choose my genre, and that is going to be difficult.

What about...romance?

Mystery? Adventure?

Horror? Science fiction?

Hmm...

I quite like science fiction. That would really fire my imagination.

Yeah! I think that'll be my chosen genre!

I thought using a new notebook and pen would help me write, but as you can see, I haven't got far!

Sometimes writing's like that - you just can't find the words. I need more inspiration.

I'm gonna go for a walk.

At last, I've got some ideas for my story! Just have to think of the opening now - easier said than done.

I have to have an opening which leads you straight into the story,

and you want to know what's happening, who your character is...

If you're writing a really tense scene, or something action-packed,

short sentences tend to work better, because it builds tension

rather than long ones, which slow it down.

If you describe a room, for example, have something happening in that room which conveys the description.

If you have a list of what's in that room - a clock, a mantelpiece, it's very dull,

but if you have someone sneaking round the room, poking in drawers,

fiddling with the ornaments, you're getting a description as well as action at the same time.

I carry a notebook. Something interests me, I scribble it down.

It can be simple - what a dog looks like as it crosses the street...

the dent in the red paint of a bus,

so you write that...and I think, "Oh, how tedious!" but actually,

it can generate a story.

If you've got a chunk of wood, and you start shaving and moulding it,

until you've got exactly what you're looking for,

then you're getting the balance of words, sentences. Play with it!

It depends on the book, and what you try to convey, and the feel of the book, but starting with dialogue

is an immediate way to get into the story and hear your characters.

I'll start my story with dialogue, because it'll be a lively opening

and helps establish the characters.

Conversation will draw readers in and help with some ideas later on.

I've definitely decided to set it in Brighton, hence my inspiration.

If you have trouble with inspiration, stick to something you know. Even with science fiction,

if you use the familiar, it should be a little bit easier.

You can move your story on in a different direction when you introduce complication and crisis.

This is what I've written so far.

Hmm! My dialogue's OK, but I think I could do a better opening.

The problem is I've used the word "said" too much - a common mistake when writing dialogue,

but I'll take them out and replace them with alternatives.

In fact, I'll start over again, and improve my vocabulary and layout.

Quack! Quack!

Quack! Quack!

Every time you write the actual word someone says,

use speech marks before and after the words spoken.

The spoken bit always starts with a capital letter.

Even if it isn't at the end of a sentence,

speech always ends with punctuation before the closing speech marks.

If the sentence continues after the speech, put a comma before the closing speech marks.

Don't just write "said" all the time.

Try different verbs to describe how somebody is speaking.

And if the speech is a question, put in a question mark.

If the speech is a command, or shows strong feelings,

use an exclamation mark!

Quack!

I remember, when I was about 10, I got one of those "How To Write" manuals at the library,

which I read very solemnly, and they had a particular passage in it

where it said, "Show, don't tell", and I do think this is good advice.

One tip I've got is reading aloud - I do read aloud what I've written,

because I like to hear the sound of my words,

and to hear whether I get the action,

and the rhythm, and the pace right.

There's only 26 letters in the alphabet, but from those 26,

we can make so many words, and from those words we can convey so many meanings, and that's amazing!

I love working with sentences. I love taking my paragraphs apart and then putting them back together.

Sometimes, I'll write a paragraph with only two words in it, because it looks nice, and I want to.

I'll run a paragraph for a whole page, for variation.

We all know about, you know, artistic production being 90% perspiration and 10% inspiration,

but that 10% inspiration, for me,

is absolutely vital, cos without it, I can't do the 90% perspiration.

I've changed the beginning and written more. Here it is so far.

It was a hot July day. Brighton was unbearably busy with daytrippers shouting, seagulls squawking,

rubbish flapping in the breeze, and the seafront clogged with cars.

They were all trying to escape from this tired seaside resort that had seen better days,

and where the pier was barely able to stand on its own stilts. The West Pier, despite its appearance,

was one of the best landmarks. If you stared at it in a certain light,

you'd get the impression it was moving. This optical illusion was working particularly well that day.

The more you focused on it, the more the pier resembled a UFO,

hovering just above the sea. Even when you blinked several times, the mysterious vision didn't falter.

It looked less and less like a dilapidated Victorian pier and more like a space ship,

especially when two silver figures emerged from an opening and clumsily stomped along the shore.

"Slow down, Jags!" Starky panted, grabbing his friend's cold shoulder.

He was tired of dragging his metallic feet along the beach and shovelling pebbles with every step.

"It's hard to keep up with these stones to wade through! What kind of planet has rocks like these?"

"A terrestrial realm called Brighton," said Jags. "But these aren't the rocks we want.

"There's a much more interesting formation. It's pink and white. I've seen pictures of it.

"There are even letters inside which go right through its middle." "Letters?! What use are they?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Jags whispered. "They could contain the secret codes vital to our mission!"

Starky was puzzled, but stumbled along behind his friend,

until he collided with an abandoned deckchair. He was now totally fed up with this unfamiliar terrain,

and sat down in protest.

Jags was concentrating, but when he no longer heard his footsteps being echoed, he turned to find out why.

"What's wrong?" he cried. "The rock!" said Starky. "Does it have a special name?"

"Of course it does!" Jags replied abruptly, beginning to find his friend a little tiresome.

"It's called Brighton rock!"

Well, that's the beginning of my story. I'm quite pleased with it. Just the middle and end to sort!

Chocolate biscuit.

Chocolate...

..biscuit.

And I still remember where I was when I first heard those words.

How it made me feel.

I was eight years old. It was Christmas. My grandfather just came out with it.

"Do you want a chocolate biscuit?"

A chocolate...biscuit.

Two things that to my eight-year-old mind were as close to heaven as I could imagine,

in one.

The crunchy, oatmeal butteriness of a biscuit,

actually combined with the creamy sweet yumminess...

..of chocolate. And how did I feel when I bit into this delicious first chocolate digestive, you ask?

Well...

I felt privileged, I felt renewed,

I felt special!

And on that day, I knew my life would never be the same again!

I didn't know I had a problem,

until a kindly geography master

told me what I'm going to tell you now.

"Life is about more than biscuits!"

Certainly, they tasted good.

Of course, they hadn't made me ill.

Naturally, I thought I could handle them.

But let me tell you -

I couldn't.

No-one can.

Many people say, "Oh, I've eaten my fill of chocolate biscuits, and I'm fine!" Well...

I'm here to tell you - you're not fine!

You're very FAR from being fine.

Just imagine,

for the moment,

how different your life would be if you hadn't spent so much of it

scoffing down those delicious discs of DANGER!

Now, on the one hand, chocolate biscuits are a delicious, nutritious snack food.

On the other, they are a dangerous parasite gnawing at the very heart,

the very FABRIC of our society! We know what we do with parasites, don't we?! WE CUT THEM OUT!

Now, when dear old Mr Gregory pointed out the error of my ways, well...

I was appalled by what I'd done.

What... What society had allowed me to do.

And I tell you this - from that day, no chocolate biscuit has passed my lips, and I'm stronger...

Significantly stronger for it.

But I was lucky.

I was stopped in time.

I was still young!

With hard work, extra lessons

and double homework, in a few short years, I was back on track!

It has been estimated that the average 35-year-old has spent 67% of their life

eating chocolate biscuits.

67%!

And that's just eating them!

Imagine how much time is spent buying the things!

Opening the packets!

DUNKING them!

We must crush this problem, and crush it NOW!

Do you want to live in a country which lags behind all others

because we cannot shake off the grip of a crunchy confectionary?

Do you think the Germans, or the French, or the Japanese waste time

biting on bourbons with their beverages? Of course not!

Well... I for one am going to do something about it.

I want... I DEMAND that all production,

distribution and consumption

of chocolate biscuits ends NOW.

Not tomorrow, not next week, not next month, but NOW and FOREVER!

My friends, until we face this challenge and face it together,

this country...this...this NATION...

will continue to crumble!

We will never again be able to call ourselves Great Biscuit...Britain...

My friends,

it is time for everyone, all of us, to break away from those tempting treats, rise up against them

and in one CLEAR VOICE proclaim, "BAN THE BISCUIT!"

"BAN THE BISCUIT!"

"BAN...THE...BISCUIT!"

That wasn't a bad speech. He did get carried away, though.

The subject matter was pretty absurd, but he definitely knew how to present an argument.

When you make a speech or give a presentation, the way you do it is almost as important as what you say.

-What made that a good speech?

-TAPE REWINDS

He knew his subject well...

The crunchy, oatmeal butteriness of a biscuit...

He made his points so the argument was clear.

On the one hand, chocolate biscuits are a delicious, nutritious snack food.

On the other, they are a dangerous parasite

gnawing at the very heart, the very FABRIC of our society!

He looked confident, and smiled at his audience.

He spoke clearly, and with flair.

Do you think the Germans, or the French, or the Japanese

waste their time biting on bourbons with their beverages?!

He used humour to make it more entertaining.

When you make a really good speech, people remember it. A lot of great speeches have gone down in history,

but speech makers are remembered too for great performances.

I have a dream...

that one day, this nation will rise up

and live out the true meaning of its creed -

"We hold these truths to be self-evident - that all men are created equal."

APPLAUSE

I was one of the lucky people in life. I had a great upbringing,

people who guided and helped me all my life, and a wonderful wife and family.

I want to give something back to the country in which I live and believe.

To those waiting with bated breath for that favourite media catchphrase, "the U-turn",

I have only one thing to say. "U-turn" if you want to.

AUDIENCE LAUGHS The lady's not for turning!

..that if the British Empire and its Commonwealths last for a thousand years,

men will still say,

"This was their finest hour."

-When making a speech...

-Ahem!

..be well prepared!

Blah, blah, blah...

Try to learn the speech!

Blah, blah, blah...blah.

Um...

Or...work from notes!

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!

Be entertaining,

but don't let humour...

..overshadow the points you're trying to make.

Blah, blah, blah...

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah...

Speak slowly,

and include pauses.

Blah...blah...blah...

blah...blah... BLAH!

And remember to look at your audience,

and smile when it's appropriate.

Making a speech is nerve-wracking, but if you're well-prepared, and you've considered all the issues,

you'll deliver a strong argument with confidence.

As in football or cricket, there are two sides to every argument.

So when you come to write a speech,

know the other point of view,

so you can argue against. So which is better - football or cricket?

-Football is much better than cricket.

-The best sport is cricket.

-Football is much more fun than cricket.

-Cricket is best!

Football is better than cricket, because it's so fast-moving. The action's non-stop.

A game of cricket isn't over in 90 minutes. It lasts up to five days,

so you can enjoy it for much longer.

The atmosphere at a football match is electric, with the crowd all singing songs and cheering. GOAL!

Cricket is much more relaxing. It's exciting, but you make a day of it!

The football season's longer - it's nine months and they play weekly.

Ah, but cricket is played in summer, so the weather can be fantastic.

Football teams have a stronger identity with their own colours!

Cricket clothes are always white, so you don't have to buy a new shirt every year.

They show up against the grass, and don't go out of fashion.

The rules are simpler in football, and scoring is easier to follow.

Yes, but the scoring in cricket is much more sophisticated.

In football, you just score a goal. In cricket, there are many ways to score points.

You can play football in all weathers. Footballers aren't afraid of rain. They don't run for cover!

Cricket is dangerous. You can tell by all the padding! We don't play in rain to avoid getting injured!

There are loads of football teams to support! Cricket has far fewer.

Yes, but cricket's been around much longer than football. It's over 300 years old - clubs have more history.

Football matches play to the end for a result, even if it's a penalty shoot-out or has to be replayed!

In cricket, if you don't finish, it's a "draw"!

Maybe, but the match is still satisfying. Cricketers' skills are so varied, you need to bat...

..bowl...and field.

Football's a game for young people at the peak of their physical fitness.

You must be fit to play cricket but you can play to a much older age.

-Football is far better than cricket.

-Cricket is far better than football.

Cricket, or football?

I might take a raincheck on that.

When you're a journalist, whether in print or on TV,

you have to investigate all sides of a subject or issue.

You may know which side you favour,

but you have to consider the facts and listen to other points of view before you put your argument.

So, let's look at a more serious issue.

Should advertisers be able to target young children?

In today's world we see advertising and marketing everywhere.

Most people take it for granted, and, on the surface, it seems harmless, but there are concerns

about how it impacts on young children. Why do some advertisers deliberately target children?

'Children are a key target audience, much more than 10 or 20 years ago,

'because they don't just buy toys for themselves and kids' products.'

'They persuade their parents to buy a lot of the brands they want.'

-Lego! ALL: LEGO!

-Have you all got Lego?

ALL: YES! I've got a stack of it!

And who knows...

-BARBIE! ALL: Barbie!

-Barbie!

-And who knows...

-PEPSI! ALL: Pepsi!

-You can see through the back of these, can't you?

-I like Pepsi!

These kids are two to four years old, and that's when advertising kicks home - at three.

We found it can start as early as one-and-a-half.

-Do you know this one?

-No!

It's a tough one, isn't it?

Do you think it's a chocolate?

'The research is useful because a lot of what I do is tell advertisers what works in packaging,

'and what works in commercials.

'If you choose the wrong logo, it won't stand out, and when you go down the shop aisle with a child,

'they don't turn their heads and say, "I want this".'

They watch a television ad, read a brochure...

They watch what their friends have -

playground cred is important. They needle the parents until they get it.

When we write advertising, even for adult products, quite often we think about children as well,

because children are much easier to reach. They pick up on it fast.

We can exploit that relationship and get them pestering their parents.

Advertisers target children because they pick up messages faster than adults.

They also know children will pester parents for the brands they want. But is there any harm in that?

Let's start with this one.

We've got Adidas, Nike, Puma, Fila, Umbro, Head, Alessi, Reebok and Kappa.

-Why do they all group together?

-Because they're the biggest brands.

-What do you mean?

-ALL: The most popular.

-Why is it better to have a brand name?

-Fashion!

-People see you and say, "Where did you get that from?"

-If it's a shop name, they think you're weird.

-If you're gonna buy something, go for the more...

..top-selling, cos then it's like the talk of the...school.

It's more...like...getting around.

The most important thing about a brand is a stamp of authenticity.

In the playground, if you have the wrong type of training shoes, you are excluded.

The thing about kids is, yes, they are keen to be individuals,

but there's nothing worse than not being the right type of individual, which is included,

so brands have that power to show that you're the right sort of kid.

As a result of advertising, some children become obsessed with brands,

while others are bullied for not having the right brands.

It can also be hard for parents, because they can't afford the products their children want.

I'm concerned about advertising toys. It's something we've never done here. During the last recession,

I'd sit with my kids on a Saturday morning having a cup of tea,

and they were watching children's TV,

and...there was commercial after commercial trying to sell toys to kids,

and my kids would ask if they could have it.

I thought how painful it'd be if you were a father who'd lost his job

and felt bad about not being able to support your family how you wanted.

Your kids saying, "Can I have that?" and knowing you can't afford it.

Most children don't have spending power of their own, so they pester their parents.

This puts a lot of pressure on parents

if they can't afford the brands their children choose.

Children ARE affected by advertising, and not all its influences are good,

but there are two sides to every argument, so it must have benefits as well.

The really big benefit of marketing to kids is that they get what they want.

In the old days, kids got products their parents wanted to give them,

but when you look at what they have today... I'd love to be a kid today.

A PlayStation with amazing software, and you can do brilliant things which only a kid could think of,

and you've got toys that go further than ever before, videos and TV programmes which are brilliant.

That comes out of kids' marketing.

It's through kids' marketing that people have found out how they work and what they want,

and marketeers become responsive in terms of the products they give them.

So, I would say, if a kid said to me, "What's the point of all this money and effort in kids' marketing?"

that you've got marketeers who want to give you what you want.

So the market research that goes with advertising means children are asked their opinions about products.

They play a part in developing new merchandise for the future.

Many kids appreciate advertising.

How else would they know about what products are available for them?

Some advertising even benefits schools.

Jazzy books are exercise books for schools with advertisements

for brands like BT, Heinz and Kodak on the covers.

Here's a Jazzy book. It's colourful,

it contains sponsored advertiser panels within the book, and outside.

It provides the chance to interact with kids in the classroom.

Jazzy books aren't alone. Tesco's, Sainsbury's,

Parker Pens, Barclays Bank, Walkers Crisps, and many more - they're all marketing today in schools.

It's interesting that our most recent survey showed 85% of schools, and there are 32,000 of them,

have in the last year had some form of commercial activity in class.

That could take the form of a poster on the wall featuring a brand, or a branded message.

It might include teaching materials, perhaps a video or teaching pack,

and at any point in the year, it's possible that the children will collect vouchers to buy equipment.

Advertising and sponsorship often go together,

and many schools have been supplied with books and other equipment by well-known companies.

So do you think it's harmless to advertise to children,

or does it put pressure on them and their parents to buy brands? I told you - two sides to every argument!

When you write an argument, either for a speech or report of some kind,

it's useful to prepare by drawing a line down the middle of some paper

then note down all the points for the argument on one side, and all points against down the other.

There's nothing like a good argument, and if you know your subject, that's what you can write.

I'm off to watch football, maybe cricket. Actually, I'm a rugby man myself!

Ever since your mum died, you take care of your dad. You fetch water...

We're in rehearsal for something called Fairytale Heart.

Fairytale Heart is a stage play that I've written

and like all my stuff, it's set in the East End of London.

It's the story of two people - a boy called Gideon and a girl, Kirsty.

Pick it up from, "Imagine this..."

In this production, the part of Gideon is played by Sid Mitchell.

Kirsty is played by Charlotte McDonagh.

-What?!

-You're a member of a tribe in the middle of the jungle...

They've never met before. Fairytale Heart is the story of what happens when these two people meet.

Hold it there. You're both looking in different directions for the hut.

You see at the end of the auditorium, the exit sign...?

Just as the actors have had to change to become the characters

by changing their clothes, their hair or the way they speak,

so where we're doing the play has had to change, too.

The play is set in an abandoned community centre, so this place has had to be made to look like that.

It's this transformation, the way everything changes, that, for me, is the real magic of theatre.

It's why I like writing for it.

And...cue.

-You're a member of a tribe in the jungle.

-I'm what?!

-Give me a chance.

You're a member of a tribe. The date has no meaning, cos things have been the same for millenniums.

'For you, all your life has been the same...'

The one thing people always ask me is where I get ideas for my stories.

This is Bethnal Green in the East End of London.

I was born here and still live here and most of my stories are based on locations around this area.

This is the local community centre. I played here.

It's boarded up now, it's derelict.

I've always thought it'd make a great place to set a play

and when I thought of the characters Kirsty and Gideon, I thought, "Yeah. Let's pop them in there."

This is the street where I set my novel Krindlekrax.

And that's where I set my stage play Sparkleshark.

These buildings are called Lysander Estate, one of the largest council estates in the East End of London.

Nobody refers to it as Lysander Estate. We call it the White Flats,

and they've been a big inspiration for my stories.

It's where Dakota lives in Dakota Of The White Flats,

and it's where Milo Kick lives in Mighty Fizz Chilla. It's also where I put Gideon and Kirsty.

The story of Dakota Pink and Milo Kick I told in the form of a novel.

Why did I decide to tell the story of Kirsty and Gideon as a play?

Well, when I thought of these two characters, I didn't think of it in terms of plot and locations.

I saw it in the form of two people talking in one particular location,

so I thought a stage play was the perfect way to tell their story.

A play is a live experience and the audience can be very involved.

It's a mixture of what the playwright has written and how it's interpreted.

Watching a play is usually better than reading it.

Plays need actors to bring them to life.

When a story's turned into a play, it's a totally different experience.

To bring a play to life, first of all you need a set or stage.

You need actors.

And a director.

The director helps the actors interpret the play.

Then you need lighting.

Costume.

Make-up.

Props.

And scenery.

And sometimes you need music.

DISCO MUSIC PLAYS

CUT!

Writing a story in the form of a play is a very different experience from writing in the form of a novel.

If I was writing a novel, for example, I could say, "Kirsty enters the community centre.

"She is very upset cos she's just left the party at which her father has announced he's getting married."

You can't say that in a stage play.

An actor can't act, "upset cos she's just left a party".

Somebody else has to come on to the stage and say, "What's wrong?"

Then the other character has to say, "I've just left a party."

All the information has to be conveyed through how people speak to each other, what they say.

It's my job to tell the story in the form of dialogue,

to convey everything that we need to know, little clues about the characters, in the form of words.

It's the director's job, along with the actors, to take these words and lift them off the page,

to take words off a page and turn it into life.

Let's have a look at the beginning of the play

and see how the two characters act towards each other when the drama starts.

DOOR RATTLES

Who's there?

Who are you?

-Don't panic.

-I don't mean you any harm.

Don't mean me...? What are you prattling on about?!

-You're Kirsty.

-How d'you know my name?

-Must've heard it around.

You live in the flat next to the playground?

If you call a sandpit full of dog poo a playground. Hear that around too?

-Must've.

-You'll be telling me my flat number next.

-13.

-Have you been spying on me?

-No.

-Unlucky for some, eh?

-What?!

-13.

-I'm not superstitious.

-How did you get in?

-I unlocked the door.

-What with?

A pilchard with rigor mortis(!) What d'you think? A key!

-But the only key belongs to me.

-Correction!

The only key belongs to your dad, the caretaker of the estate.

As this is the community hall of said estate, your key... Blah-blah!

Have you been spying on ME?

-It's a small estate.

-So where did you get your key from?

Nosey! The Spanish Inquisition'd give me an easier time.

You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.

It's my mum's, if you must know.

-Your mum died, didn't she?

-Are you asking me or telling me?

Yeah, she died. Two years ago.

Two years and seven months.

Before she got sick, she used to help out...

Help out?! What am I saying? She ran it!

When it was a real community centre, the windows weren't boarded up,

when people used to come and have a gossip or play bingo, and a disco for kids.

Mum knew everyone's name. It was her...her....

Her kingdom.

-It was.

-I've heard a lot of people on the estate talk about her.

She was real popular. Beautiful too, they say.

It's like a fridge in here.

"It's like a fridge in here."

When Kirsty says that, she's really referring to the atmosphere between the two of them.

The atmosphere between them at the beginning is pretty standoffish,

pretty chilly, like a fridge.

But by the end, things have changed. Let's see the end of the play.

-Come to the party with me.

-What?

-The party.

-But I can't just...

-Don't panic. It's all right. Come on.

-But my hair - rat's tails.

-No-one'll mind.

-My clothes. Next to you, I look...

-Stop it, you hear?

It's a party for people from the estate, the same people you're making all this for.

-Meet them.

-They'll just stare at me.

I'll have a normal chat with you if it kills me. Remember how it works?

I say something, then you say something nice. Ready?

Oh, I wish I had someone to go to my party with.

-I'll go.

-Nearly.

-I want to go.

-Closer.

-I'd love to go with you.

-Thanks. I'd love to go with you too. Easy, eh?

Hello, Kirsty.

Hello, Gideon.

Help me blow out the candles?

-Are you hungry?

-Always starving, me.

-There's sherry trifle at the party.

Oh, sherry trifle's amazing!

Not this one. Dad's fiancee's made it.

-Keep you mouth shut, though.

-Don't wanna upset her, do we?

Guess not.

Will you dance with me?

-I'm not very good.

-It's easy. You just relax.

-Think.

-Buzz.

-Splat.

-Dance!

-Dance!

-You'll know if you're doing it right, cos it'll just be like...

-Kissing?

-I think a goatee WOULD suit you.

-I've got the whiskers.

-Let me feel.

Boom-diddy, boom-diddy.

Boom-diddy, boom-diddy.

When Gideon and Kirsty meet, they're nervous with each other.

They find it difficult to talk about things they're really feeling.

Gideon introduces a sort of story-telling device,

a way of allowing them to talk about things they really feel,

but have never been able to express,

and he starts this off by talking about a tribe in a jungle.

You live with your dad in that mud hut. See it?

Ever since your mum died, you take care of your dad. You fetch water. He's everything.

Can you see the hut yet?

-Yeah!

-And then, a scream... out in the jungle!

-What is it?

-Someone's been killed.

-Who?

-A member of the tribe.

-How?

-A monster.

-Some hideous thing - claws and teeth.

-Maybe a giant rat, eh?

-Very likely.

At the beginning, it says Gideon enters,

a 15-year-old boy, clothes thrown together. They look right on him.

He knows what he wants and he's happy with who he is. He doesn't care what people think.

To find out Kirsty's character,

most of the clues are in the text. It helps with the language she uses,

as you realise she's defensive. ..You got a degree in being nosey?!

Gideon's language is very open and he persuades her to feel more comfortable with him.

-Are you scared?

-A little.

-You've got to go.

-I don't know if I can!

In my role as a director,

I take the written word that Phillip has written, in this case, and try to bring it alive.

Cue! 'In the theatre, it's quite different from film or television,'

because, with the use of a camera on film or TV, I'm able to be the audience,

to decide what the audience see, whether they see a reaction, or a close-up, or a wide shot,

all the different things one can do with the camera or lighting.

In the theatre, the audience can look at what they like.

I'm the production designer of the set, and I design the environment that the actors have to move in.

Fairytale Heart was a fun thing to do, because you have a teenage boy

who's designed this magical set of his own,

but it's in a grotty, vandalised hall, so we had to do a set which is made from things

he could have picked up on the estate. Could be dustbin lids, a fireplace... That's his area.

But we've then had to do it in this hall, which we've turned into a vandalised state.

When these two characters come onto stage,

we have to give an indication quite quickly of who they are.

We have to tell the audience who they are.

It comes through the costume. It's the first thing you see.

'He's got this wig, dreadlocks, a young-looking face with this big old hair and big, baggy clothes,'

and a massive bag, carrying all his stuff, ready to work on the stage,

and it was very important, the wig, and, putting the costume on, you feel different already.

NEW SPEAKER: Well, I think with Kirsty, she's very vulnerable.

She presents to the world this rather cocky, cheeky image,

and that's very much reflected in the way she does her hair and the way she dresses,

but underneath that, she is very vulnerable, and it's quite important to find a way of reflecting that.

I particularly like all these fluffy bits.

All this will be into these little twirly bits. How does it feel for YOU?

-Good.

-Yeah? Well done, I think it's lovely. Now, how does your wig feel?

It's good that I'm wearing it in rehearsals. It's quite different to me normal hair.

I think you need the weight of it. Get used to it swinging around. Thanks. You can take it off now.

I'd been reading the script, and I was going home on the tube, and someone reminded me of Gideon.

He didn't have the dreadlocks, but he had baggy clothes and a few tattoos,

and he walked like he didn't have any worries and didn't care what people think. That's what Gideon's like.

I like the fact that she's got a split personality - that she's very vulnerable and insecure,

but she puts on this feisty aggressiveness. It gives the actress a lot to play with.

When a play is done by a theatre,

it goes through a sort of ritual in its presentation to the public.

Part of the ritual is Press night, or critics' night, when the play is put on in front of lots of critics.

The critics watch the play and, next day, write a review in a newspaper, telling people what they think.

When they write a critique of a play, there's more to consider - not just what I've done as the writer,

but what the directors have done, what the actors have done, a whole host of things.

A critic's job is to see if all these things come together and work to produce one unique vision.

Fairytale Heart is about language. It's about two people, Kirsty and Gideon, talking to each other

and telling each other secrets. The method by which they tell secrets is the key that Gideon gives Kirsty.

It's the language of Fairytale Heart, how to talk about problems in terms of princes and princesses.

Once Kirsty can do this, she's able to discuss her problems and Gideon is able to discuss his.

During the play, the two get closer and closer until, by the end, they really are friends.

Relax!

Imagine soaking in a hot bath, then think...of flowers.

Let the thought travel out of your head, and down your arm,

like an electric current - buzz, then out...

Splat! Paint it!

Relax, think...

buzz...splat...

-paint!

-All there is to it!

That's it - relax!

Think...flowers.

Now let it build up.

You feel it? Feel it?

Electric current...buzzing...

buzzing...

Now let it travel down your arm...

Let it build up.

That's it!

Now...

splat!

SHE GIGGLES

-See? Easy!

-How will I know if I'm doing it right?

-It's like kissing.

You can be smooching and you think, "My nose is in the way, my teeth are too big, where do I put my hands?"

That's a wrong kiss. But when it's going right...oh, I bet everything falls into place.

Just an amazing... You HAVE been kissed before, haven't you?

Kissed? Me? Zillions of times!

W-What's the play gonna be about?

-No idea yet!

-Well, you must have!

-Why?

Oh, the backdrop?

That's just the basics, really.

-When Mum tells a story, it has kings, queens, princesses, forests, castles...

-Fairy tales?

No, they're more than that. Stories are a way of helping me...

you know, with moving, new faces and stuff.

-Mum says it's a way of expressing what's in your heart. Your fairytale heart, she calls it.

-Fairytale heart?

Amazing, eh?

You see, if Mum told me a story about a prince who was misunderstood by everyone except the Queen,

then I'd know that the Queen was my mum and, well, I was the...

-You've got some paint on your skirt.

-Oh, no! It's brand new!

It's all right, I've got something to get it out. Here.

Sit down here.

It's my birthday today.

-Aries - that explains it!

-I don't believe in horoscopes.

What are Aries like, anyway?

-Fiery, dominating...argumentative...

-I am NOT argumentative!

Many happy returns.

Dad organised a party for me, at our flat. That's why I'm in this outfit.

Had my hair done special, too. Do you like it?

I'm not sure about the metallic dandruff.

Lie, OK? It's called being nice to someone.

I fish for a compliment, and then you give one. Got it?

-Try again.

-Do you like my hair?

-It's amazing!

-Thank you!

-I ran out of the party - it was horrible.

-Life's too short for horrible parties.

There you go - good as new!

Ever since Mum died, it's just been me and Dad.

We did everything together - not that we did a lot, but...

I don't wanna talk about it.

Some people must have thought it boring,

going to the pictures with your dad. Not me! I loved it, it was...

I don't wanna talk about it.

Then, one day...

we go to the supermarket. Dad's pushing the trolley, I'm putting things in. Same as usual.

And then, suddenly, I turn round... and the trolley's gone!

"Dad?" Up and down the aisles... "DAD!"

There he is, at the checkout... talking to someone. Never seen her before.

Some woman. I don't like the look of her. Hairdo by a lawn mower, colour out of a bottle.

Eyelashes fluttering so much, they should issue a gale warning! And her... Talk about a padded bra!

You could land a helicopter on 'em! And look at Dad, lapping it up!

I don't wanna talk about it - you hear? I don't wanna talk about it!

-Ain't you interested?!

-You said you don't wanna talk about it.

-Don't be so obliging! Ask me something!

-D'you think I should grow a goatee?

-What?!

-On my chin, a little beard.

-I've got the whiskers - feel!

-I'm not bothered about that.

-You said to ask you something.

-Not about whiskers!

About HER - that woman! Dad's floozy. Say something about HER!

-I think she's nice.

-You don't know her!

-I know who you mean. I've seen her in the supermarket.

-She wears a ribbon in her hair.

-Mutton dressed as lamb.

-Good figure!

-Deformed!

-Smiling!

-Demented!

-Jolly!

She's jolly, all right - got Dad wrapped round her little finger. Like schoolkids, they are!

At MY party, too! Canoodling, nibbling each other's ears! It's disgusting!

When she looks at Dad, she clutches her chest and goes, "You make my heart go boom-diddy, boom-diddy!"

-Boom-diddy, boom-diddy?!

-Boom-diddy, boom-diddy! Yuk!

Travel writing is usually associated with exotic locations or famous cities

or treks across mountains or deserts.

-But anyone can be a travel writer, and you don't have to go very far - even a town nearby.

I'm about to catch a bus into town and do some writing along the way.

When you're a travel writer, you can write about almost any kind of journey, from a Himalayan hike

to a walk down the high street. The location isn't important. It's the WAY you write about it that counts.

Travel writing is a type of factual writing.

The great thing is, you can include your personal points of view.

Wherever and however you write, there are tips and techniques to help you develop your own style.

While Steve is travel writing on the bus, I'm about to take a journey myself.

Snowdonia National Park in North Wales is famous for beautiful scenery

and for the Ffestiniog railway here at Porthmadog.

It's a great opportunity to do some travel writing.

-Hi. Can I have a ticket for the next train, please?

-Yes, of course. There.

-Thanks very much!

-Thank you.

Travel writing's subjective, so what I write is based on my own opinions.

Anyone could do the same journey and write something completely different.

There are no set rules, but there are some tips.

When I go anywhere to write a travel piece, I bring three things...

a notebook and pen...and a camera. The notebook is absolutely vital

so that you can literally write down notes. You won't have time to write full sentences on the move.

So if you just jot things down, it'll help jog your memory when you come to write the full piece.

TRAIN WHISTLE HOOTS

'It's good to think about words that describe sights, sounds and atmosphere.'

STEAM HISSES

COACHES SQUEAK

CONDUCTOR BLOWS WHISTLE

TANNOY CRACKLES

You'll find it helpful to think of writing the piece in terms of pictures, so that each new view

is a new paragraph. So...this opening shot will help me set the scene

and establish that I'm about to take a journey on the Ffestiniog Railway.

'Boarding the train, I was hit by a warm fug, and that certain smell of old fabric and excited bodies.

'I sat down on a blue, threadbare seat elaborately adorned with the Ffestiniog Railway insignia

'and fringed with fraying cotton.

'I gazed at the wonderful view from my window as we left Porthmadog behind us.

'Over the Cob, the train picked up speed,

'clouds of steam floating past the windows.

'The smell of smoke, coal dust and worn metal added to the excitement

'as I felt like I was travelling back in time.

'The landscape was so varied, with views of the sea, houses and stations.

'We approached Minffordd Station, and there were people on the platform anticipating our arrival.

'It looked exactly like a giant version of a model railway - the paintwork immaculate.

'And spectators waved as we journeyed up the mountain.

'We stopped at Tan-y-Bwlch, where the train is filled up with water.

'The engine bubbled and spluttered and took on water as if it had a really dry throat.'

WHISTLE

'With a whistle and a lurch, we were off again.

'A series of jolts, squeaks and rattles before the train settled into that comforting, steady chug.'

Writing a travel piece is a little like writing a diary,

and you can use, if you want to, the first-person narrative - the I-word.

For example, I could write -

"I'm on a...very...wobbly train...

"trying...to write my notes."

Oops! Looks a bit like a spider's written them.

'We climbed higher and higher, past the beautiful waterfall cascading from a crevice above the track.

'I could even feel my ears popping, we were going so high.'

Thanks.

Thanks very much indeed.

'I sipped on a piping hot coffee and gazed out of the window.

'As the train passed through narrow rocks,

'suddenly, there was a blackness, a cold smell of damp stone

'and a tunnel had swallowed us up,

'then spat us out, back into the sunlight and familiar tall trees.

'As we arrived at Blaenau, people lined the platform.

'We changed over here,

'lost some passengers and took on more.

'I got chatting to a fellow passenger.'

I'm a publican from Oldham, and I come here to get away from it all.

I'm getting my grandson into it now.

-He's only two but he's got most of the Thomas set.

-Has he?

-He's started to get into this so that's another excuse to come.

-Yes!

Have you got a model railway in your attic?

Only a small one! Yeah.

-I don't have time, as a publican.

-No.

-I'm very busy.

You could build one round the pub. That'd be great!

-Going round the bar!

-My customers think I'm potty enough as it is!

So would this be one of your top five...

-in the country?

-It's arguably the best in the world.

-Really?

-No doubt about it.

'As we left the grey-slated backdrop of Blaenau,

'it struck me that there is real love and pride for this railway.

'People gazing lovingly at the immaculate paintwork and gleaming brass.

'We headed back down the mountain to Porthmadog.

'The engine was leading from my carriage,

'and the noise of the whistle was deafening.'

WHISTLE BLOWS

One of the nice things about travel writing is the freedom you have what to include and what to leave out.

A journey like this is absolutely fantastic because there's so many things to write about,

but if your journey is less inspiring, here's a checklist of ideas that could help you out.

As with any descriptive writing...

Think about sight, sound, taste, touch and smell.

The things that happen to you are the events and the people you meet are the characters.

A funny anecdote will always add a unique twist to your writing.

What I've discovered - this is my personal tip - is that there really is a thing called writer's block.

You can chain yourself to your desk, sit in front of your computer or notebook - nothing comes.

Your brain feels like cotton wool. Go and have a bath.

You get back to your notebook and you're scribbling away, and suddenly look up and it's ten hours later.

You just feel fantastic. It's the most wonderful feeling.

My top tip - go and have a bath!

'Back down at sea level, spots of rain spattered on the window.

'Porthmadog was waiting for us,

'and the noise of the wheels screeching to a stop meant the journey had come to an end

'and I was back in the present day, after my trip back in time on the railway.'

That was completely brilliant. I feel really uplifted and inspired,

so I'm going to run away and write about it before I lose the feeling.

Always write about how you felt on your journey - it'll make your piece much more personal to you.

It'll allow the reader to feel part of your experience. See you later.

SEAGULLS CRY

I'm still working on my travel writing, but Kate's written a brilliant piece about her trip.

It makes me really want to go on it. It'll make a change from the buses.

But her writing doesn't include instructions - information tourists may find useful. Here it is.

"It's a cold, blustery day, but boarding the train, I was hit by a warm fug

"and that certain smell of old fabric and excited bodies.

"I sat down on a blue, threadbare seat elaborately adorned with the Ffestiniog Railway insignia

"and fringed with fraying cotton."

That's great, but we're already on the train and I don't know how much the ticket costs.

I'll go myself, with an entirely different writing purpose in mind.

Where do I start? It's a good idea to write things down in chronological order.

That means putting things into sequence - what to do first, second, third, fourth and so on.

This makes it easier for the reader to understand. I'm using numbers. You could use bullet points.

The information needs to be concise. The instructions should include imperative verbs, like commands,

such as "Buy your ticket at the ticket office."

One ticket for the next train journey, please.

This is the Ffestiniog Railway.

Refreshments are available at Spooner's Bar.

The train departs in five minutes.

The train starts in Porthmadog,

travels to Blaenau, then back to Porthmadog.

The journey takes around two and a half hours.

The next stop is Penrhyn.

There's even a toilet on board.

Tan-y-Bwlch is where they fill up the engine with water.

-Hello there!

-Here we are, sir. Your cup of tea and a bar of chocolate.

-Thank you.

-£1.25.

-There you go.

Refreshments are available on board.

This is Blaenau, the end of the line.

This is where the engine is taken from the front of the train to the back,

to take us back down to Porthmadog.

Here I am back in Porthmadog. I've got my list of instructions.

-Hi, Kate.

-Fantastic - you're back. I wanted you to see these.

These were all the leaflets. All the pictures, all the phone numbers, everything you need to know...

if you want to visit something.

-But there's not one for the Ffestiniog Railway.

-That's weird!

-Why don't we design one?

-OK!

Gather all the information together, get some nice pictures,

put the phone numbers and prices on - encourage people to visit.

Great idea. You've got your description of the journey, I've got my list of instructions.

We just have to work out how to organise it.

-How's that?

-That's better. I think that should fit.

-That's...

-..Oh, yes - I'll just stick this in the...

-Nice!

-Have him.

Leaflets don't give you much space, so remember, the writing has to be very clear and concise.

It has to be informative, but also attractive, and don't forget who you're making it for.

This could be used by the tourist information centre.

How about...one of these ones?

-Yeah, I like that one. Did you take that?

-I did, actually.

Good!

Here it is - just a rough draft. When we've scanned in the pictures and typed it up, it'll look great.

We've done a good job. I'll go back to my travel writing on the bus now.

-I feel inspired after my railway trip.

-Good. Don't forget these.

-Just think of a series of pictures - it will help.

-See you!

-Good luck!

Once upon a time...

many, many years ago...

there were some wonderful stories known as fairy tales.

They were told to generations of children,

who grew up and told them to THEIR children,

who then went on and told them to THEIR children.

So they were passed on and on through the centuries.

The stories were so popular and had such important things to say

that, as if by magic,

versions of them began to appear all over the world.

Elements from these traditional tales can still be found

in the books, films, plays, ballets, TV and computer games that we enjoy today.

"And once again, the probing, lateral brain of Jonathan Creek

"had pierced the veil of darkness, restoring reason to another seemingly impossible mystery."

Look at me.

I know what you want, Dinah. Trust me.

R-RIP! What are you doing?

Let's just have a look at them old scores, shall we? Eh?

I win. You lose.

Now, according to the fairy tale,

if I put these slippers on and they fit,

the handsome prince will come and I'll live happily ever after!

Yeah, right(!)

See? As I thought!

The magic in fairy tales doesn't often happen in real life.

I'm certainly not going to try kissing that!

The goody-goody heroine waiting to be rescued by a handsome prince

is a typical fairytale plot, but there are other common ingredients.

Fairy tales are usually set in faraway places.

They have simple plots,

which invariably include fantastic or magical incidents.

They often feature royal characters, like kings and queens,

and magical beings like fairies, witches, wizards or genies.

Each character tends to be a recognisable type,

with a specific role.

Some of the most widely used ones are -

a hero, or victim, at the centre of the tale,

like Jack, or Red Riding Hood.

A villain who poses a threat, like the wicked Queen in Snow White.

A princess, or sought-after person, like Rapunzel or the Sleeping Beauty.

A helper, often a good friend or creature who tries to help the hero or princess,

like Buttons or Dandini in Cinderella.

And a provider, like a fairy godmother or good spirit

who can sometimes perform magic or bestow gifts to help the hero or victim.

Oh!

The work of a poor heroine who's fallen on hard times...

is never done.

Now.

Shall I stay here and wait for me prince?

Or shall I plant these five magic beans?

Or shall I go for a walk on my own in the woods?

Or thread up that old spinning wheel?

Shall I eat the shiny red apple?

Or let all my hair down?

Hmm.

Because I know me fairy tales, I can predict what will happen with whichever decision I make.

And they're all a bit...far-fetched. Strangely enough, the more bizarre fairy-tale elements

are often the ones that we enjoy the most and remember best.

They've certainly influenced many modern children's authors.

Fairy tales have had a big influence on the way I write,

not an especially big influence, not more than films I've enjoyed,

or the great literary novels I've read, but equal with them.

Fairy stories are a wealth of ideas. You can get so many things from them.

Subconsciously and consciously,

I use those ideas and subvert them in my own writing.

Cinderella, I think, is THE prototype story, in all sorts of ways,

although it doesn't have the terror or the witches,

but it is about injustice, in such a powerful way that it makes it a very enduring story.

Fairy stories, and mythical, traditional tales

all ask the same kind of questions,

and have universal themes which are relevant to modern readers.

In this book, I take a prince, but not a conventional prince,

not the handsome prince with blue eyes and chiselled features.

He looks like Chris Evans - ginger hair, skinny, pasty-faced -

but inside, he IS a prince, and he's pursuing a girl that in every way is a princess.

Finally, his dignity, his decency as a human being emerges, and he becomes the prince that's been his potential.

There's a beautiful, logical, simple, clear structure to the great fairy tales,

which has never been, um...surpassed,

and I love reading the simplicity of them, the clarity of the language,

the obvious logic of the sequence of events.

Even when they're fantastical events, there's a logic and a clarity there. I love that.

I've decided to have a make-over. Well, it's more useful than a coach and horses in this day and age!

Just because I'm Cinderella doesn't mean I have to be stuck in those old fairy-tale conventions.

I'm leaving the woods and heading for the city. Who needs a fairy godmother when you have a mobile?

And a laptop is far more useful than a tired old magic wand.

Wait a minute! Why am I just changing the conventions? Why don't I just leave the genre altogether?

Yeah, that's a great idea! Mmm, I'm gonna get out of the fairy-tale genre

and move into... crime and mystery instead!

Just call me Agent Cinders, private eye extraordinaire and international spy!

'Coming soon... to a cinema near you...'

If I was gonna rewrite a fairy story,

I would simply put it into the ordinary everyday world.

Say if I took Little Red Riding Hood, I would set it somewhere in Newcastle near where I live.

Little Red Riding Hood would live in an ordinary house with an ordinary family. The forest is the park

across the street, so to go through the forest, she has to go through the park. She'll see her grandma,

who lives a few streets away. To see her she goes through the park. I can't have a wolf. What can I have?

Maybe there's that terrible dog that lives down at number 97, or that guy who always looks suspicious.

It's taking elements of the story and putting them into an ordinary world.

What happens is, you get a mixture of ordinariness and extraordinariness.

The two together make powerful stories.

If you change the events of the story, you change it in a more fundamental way.

If a fairy godmother arrived to PREVENT Cinderella from going to the ball, it'd be a different structure.

I might actually write that!

With the happy-ever-after endings

which frequently end in the characters getting great riches,

or getting married, that's only the beginning of a story, isn't it?

Perhaps it might be fun to go back and find out what happened next to all these characters.

Maybe I'd take something like Little Red Riding Hood and make the big bad wolf into a serial killer

who's stalking the urban jungle,

or maybe Rumplestiltskin could be done as a cowboy-and-western type of story.

He's the man with no name that rides into town to rescue the princess,

but she finds out he HAS got a name, so it doesn't end the way he planned.

'From the farthest reaches of the galaxy...

'came Prince Vigo...

'the love of Princess Lavinia.'

Ribbit!

'Life would never be the same again.'

MEXICAN MUSIC

Now I'm Sheriff Cinders of the Old Wild West,

and I'm changing genre and convention all over again.

I'm a law woman, preaching peace and harmony, and I ain't carryin' a gun!

It's fun putting well-known characters into different genres.

They can feature in all sorts of writing - even poetry.

"My dumbstruck dad's in love again The kitchen's falling apart

"As I mop up the fag-ash floor And grey as ash lies my heart

"My stepmum's a lottery-holic Gambling all goodness away

"We live a life of pumpkin stew With bills for afters each day

"My stepsisters hang out after dark Two puffed-up smoke rings of fear

"As circles of hate slip out of their mouths, Where is my dead mother dear?

"I'd love to go the party downtown But what would I have to wear?

"I live in the land of hand-me-down And only dream of great gear

"But look at this get-up, bright as a match, hidden in my mother's chest

"I'd dress like an burning ember The boys make a beeline - impressed

"My stepsisters are flabbygasted As I smooch with a lad from Year 10

"Their eyes like smouldering cinders

"As he kisses me...yet again!

"'Twas midnight and my prince was slobbering all over his latest recruit

"Drunk as a lord - oh, what a drag! In the end, I gave him the boot!"

I'm a story-teller and a poet, and I wanted to write a piece

that combined the two. Cinderella is a lovely story, but out-of-date,

so I thought, "Let's modernise this." Cinderella's name in the Grimm tales is Ashputtle. Ash is interesting.

Cinderella is always dressed in rags, always grey. I thought, "What's modern and grey?" Fags, cigarettes.

It's a horrible image, but it worked well into the metaphor for the piece.

Of course, she ends up stubbing out the prince.

I find it strange when people think a poem just appears, and you just write what you're thinking and feeling.

A poem requires good craftedness. That comes through the use of simile, metaphor, developed images,

called conceit, when the same metaphor runs through the poem.

"My stepsisters hang out after dark Two puffed-up smoke rings of fear

"As circles of hate slip out of their mouths, Where is my dead mother dear?"

I wrote this as a ballad, as ballads are often used to tell stories.

"Ballad" comes from the Latin "ballare", "to dance",

and the rhythm is strong. It's in quatrains of four lines, like...

Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum

Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum.

That strong rhythm enables you to get a point across. The pauses create drama or comic effect.

Timing is everything. It's not just what's ON the page, it's how it leaps off like a salmon and comes to life.

"Drunk as a lord - oh, what a drag!"

I was looking for some very modern words,

and also a lot of wordplay.

For instance, at the end, it says, "Drunk as a lord,"

this guy who's all over Cinderella,

but in the original story, he's a prince, so it fits well.

"What a drag!" Drag is a cigarette, but it has that meaning, too.

I like to play on the meanings.

"My stepsisters are flabbygasted."

"Flabbygasted" seemed perfect.

They're flabbergasted, but they're not very pretty!

"My stepmum's a lottery-holic."

I'm updating the Cinderella myth, so I thought, "Who could this stepmother be? She'd be greedy for money."

She'd be into the Lottery. Being an alcoholic would be obvious.

"Lottery-holic" has that sense of addiction.

Poetry does not have to be dull. You can write about all sorts of things.

It's why me and my wife wrote Poems With Attitude, a teenage collection,

because there weren't poems about all those issues that we experienced as teenagers.

Write about anything relevant to you. It doesn't have to be swaying trees.

I wrote another with a fairy-tale theme, but wanted it to be much harder-hitting, so I used short lines

and very punctuated rhythm. It's definitely a performance poem.

I was looking at the way fairy tales have been changed by the forces that be, the forces in TV and movies.

"We must have happy endings," said Walt Disney famously.

The original folk tales were much darker, much deeper.

You just have to look at life around you and the comparison is very real.

"Peck those eyes out! Cut off the heel! Such Grimm tales reflected the real.

"Cut open the wolf! Fill him with stones!

"Here the handless miller's daughter moans

"Her stumps are bleeding into the pool

" 'Protect our children - this is too cruel!

"' Happy ends! Prioritise! Censor violence! Sanitise!'

"So said Walt, Mr Apple Pie! It's all his fault films are...cutesy-pie

"But in the park, behind the shed,

"Listen with care to what is said

"Wolfish bullies are alive and well

"Not just hidden in a fairy spell

"Read the paper! Nothing changed

"Real life is more deranged

"Snow White's mum, in her red-hot shoes

"Join Amnesty and listen to the news."

Some of the plots and story lines in fairy tales seem implausible, while others can ring true.

Look how the headlines use language associated with fairy tales.

There have been plenty of real-life rags-to-riches stories over the years.

But the life of a girl called Adeline Yen Mah, brought up in China in the 1940s and '50s,

really did resemble that of the fairy-tale Cinderella character, especially when she was a child.

Adeline's family considered her to be bad luck, because her mother died giving birth to her.

Then, when her father remarried, things went from bad to worse.

Her stepmother, Nyang, was certainly as cruel as any wicked stepmother from a fairy tale.

There was a knock at the door, and Asan came in without waiting, looking flustered and fearful.

A crowd of your little friends is downstairs. They're asking for you.

Her words were like a thunderbolt in the clear blue sky. I stared at her, dumbfounded.

-Is my mother at home?

-I'm afraid she is. So is your father.

Tell my friends I'm not home. Please, send them away!

I tried, but they know you're here. They followed you home from school and saw you enter the door.

They want to give you a surprise party for winning the election for class president!

-Everyone has brought a gift. They mean well.

-I know.

I felt panic-stricken, but had no choice but to follow Asan to the parlour.

As I crept downstairs, I could hear the giggles and screams of my classmates resound through the house.

I bit my lower lip and forced myself to go in to greet my friends. They surrounded me, shouting...

Surprise! Congratulations! Victory!

They were singing and chanting slogans, drunk with euphoria and excitement. No-one seemed to notice

my tongue-tied silence. I shifted my eyes from meeting anyone else's,

afraid that my secret home life was about to be exposed.

Inside, I was quaking with terror, hoping against hope that Nyang would leave us alone

until I could politely ask my friends to leave.

Asan reappeared, and touched me on my arm.

Your mother wishes to see you - now!

I fought against the panic surging from within,

and forced a stiff smile on my face.

I wonder what she wants!

Excuse me for a moment.

My mind was blank as I knocked on the door of the Holy of Holies.

My parents stood side by side.

I stood in front of them with my head hanging and my eyes fixed on Nyang's red silk slippers.

I could hear the gleeful squeals of a dozen merry ten-year-old girls echoing through the entire house.

Who are these little hooligans making such a racket in the living room downstairs?!

-They're my school friends.

-What are they doing HERE?

-They're celebrating my becoming class president.

-Is this party YOUR idea?

-No, Nyang, they came of their own accord. I didn't know anything about it.

Come here!

I approached her gingerly, trembling with terror.

She slapped my face so hard I almost fell.

Liar! You planned it, didn't you?

To show off our house to your penniless classmates!

No, I didn't!

Tears streaked down my cheeks. I found it hard to breathe.

What insolence! To invite them here, into our living room, and make such a racket!

I didn't ask them here. They know I'm not allowed to go to their house after school,

so they decided to visit me instead.

-She slapped me with the back of her hand against my cheek.

-Show-off!

Go downstairs this minute and tell them to get out! They are not welcome!

As I hesitated, and shuffled my feet, she hit my face yet again.

Do you hear me?! I want them out of this house this minute!

Are you deaf? Tell them never to come back! Never! NEVER!

Adeline Yen Mah's book is a true story, but the title,

Chinese Cinderella, makes an obvious comparison between her life and that of the famous fairy-tale heroine.

It's a piece of factual writing, but her true life story was so dramatic

that it almost resembles a piece of fiction.

The plots and characters in fairy tales are popular and famous.

They keep being altered and updated

for modern stories and other kinds of writing.

You can choose well-known story conventions and place them in an entirely different setting or genre.

You can rewrite well-known tales as brand-new stories,

or try a different writing form, like poetry.

Fairy tales can also be rewritten using a factual writing style,

like Adeline Yen Mah's autobiography.

Here I am, back as Cinderella, working hard in pantomime.

CROWD: Oh, no, you're not!

Oh, yes, I am!

Actually, I'm waiting to be discovered by some big Hollywood producer, who'll make me a star!

And I'll have a big house, and everything I've ever wanted. My own true rags-to-riches story.

And I'll live happily ever after!

OK, OK!

I know I'm getting carried away with my fairy-tale imagination, but I can dream...can't I?

MUSIC: "Sleeping Beauty" by Tchaikovsky

Subtitles by BBC Subtitling BBC Broadcast 2002

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