A brief get-away

With the printing of Princess Petunia's Dragon imminent, we took a short break away from our tropical home. We wanted a contrast to the daily grind of Singapore, so we chose to stay in the heart of Hanoi which we visited last year, and to take a trip to Halong Bay. 

We were the only ones who stayed for two nights on the boat. On our 'middle' day, we were on our own, looked after royally by a lovely girl. I was in a sketching mood, so I made this one of her, and gave it to her.  Later she led us in kayaks through rock overhangs to quiet places away from the busy bay. And told us so much about her life and family in the fishing village which will soon be requisitioned by the government. 

Thank you and good luck with everything, Tran Hung Gam!

 I'll let the photos and my quick sketches do the talking.

The proof - It's behind you!

Over the last week or so, I've been to two big events with David Seow, prolific picture book author. First, watching the proofs of his new book, Sam, Sebbie and Di-di-di at the SEA Aquarium, sliding off the presses. And then, the first dramatization of his wonderful story, Soup on my Fly, by The Learning Connection. 

First we hot foot it to the printers, to see the page proofs with Stephanie Wong, Epigram's designer, checking the colour matches. 
Here are the proofs showing Soefara's lovely, lively illustrations. (And don't worry, the illustrations look odd in this order, but it's because they are cut and folded to make the final book!).

I love seeing all the activity at the printers, the noise of the machines as the book comes to life - and of course it's easy for me because it isn't my book! It will be my turn with Princess Petunia's Dragon in a few weeks' time...!

Soefara couldn't help a big smile with the cover proof. This is the second book she has illustrated in David's 'Sam, Sebbie and Di-di-di' series, after At the Night Safari.  Both great reads, and a super way to see a glimpse of Singapore through children's eyes. 

The next meet-up required David, Catherine and me to drive out to a nursery school at Changi. 'Soup on my Fly' was being staged for its very first time before being taken round schools and stages early next year. The story of a boy desperate for a pet may be aimed at nursery and infant schools, but the acting, singing and dancing were truly infectious for us writers. 

David watched warily as his story was retold on the stage. The actors used both puppets and costumes for the different animals involved (the fly in the title is very versatile!). All the children were entranced, joining in with all the animal sounds and bouncing in anticipation at every cliff-hanger. 

                                                                                 

 Full-marks to the young cast for a wonderfully entertaining romp and keeping a whole room of infants mesmerized! I wouldn't dare try my hand at manipulating a puppet in the shape of a fly. But there again, that Tango number early in the play would be great fun. Any takers?

FInally, here's the author in the middle surrounded by the cast and obviously very pleased with the result! 

Thanks to David, the talented TLC cast, and Catherine Carvell for a very enjoyable morning.  

Comic times with the Etherington Brothers

What better way is there to spend a Sunday morning than learning how to create a comic strip?  

And who best to learn it from? The British duo, Lorenzo and Robin Etherington at the Singapore Writers Festival.

Their energy and ideas came shooting, across the lecture room, galvanizing us all into action so that after an hour and a half some of us had already created a workable comic strip!

As you can see from the photo, Robin (right), the writer, is a comic character himself. And his brother Lorenzo, the artist, is no shrinking violet either.  

Between them they coached us in creating character, drawing thumb-nail sketches, finding the key frame and ....having fun!!  It was so well delivered it didn't matter that friend and fellow writer Evelyn Wong (above) and I are not comic strip artists, we still managed to come up with new ideas and learn from these two masters. 

So now I have new characters and stories crashing around in my head - pow, zap, wham...eek! And, of course, signed copies of their books, Monkey Nuts and Baggage (published by David Fickling Books).

Thank you, guys. Can't wait to catch up with you in another corner of the globe.

For a real lift, check their blog: http://theetheringtonbrothers.blogspot.sg/

School visit with Purple Paw Prints

Yesterday was full-on for the assistant to the Purple Paw Prints storyteller!

Here is Sarah Mounsey, talented author of Purple Paw Prints and Paw Prints on the Magic Sofa, talking to six year-olds at the Australian International School here in Singapore.
  
The kids, aged from three to six, lapped up her story with the same energy and enthusiasm as the shaggy dog, Oscar, left purple paw prints all over her stories!

Here she is in the beautifully designed and well stocked library with librarian, Denise Jackson. The day went with a whizz and a bang and a bump-bump-bumpety-bump.  Now listen, you have to clap your hands on your knees as you do that, and I do suggest you buy Paw Prints on the Magic Sofa and follow the text right the way through! 

Alongside listening to Sarah retell her story and packing bags for those who'd bought the books, I was kept on my toes, helping to run the workshop. Pupils were set to devise their own 'Magic Adventure' and then perform it as a storyteller with as much aplomb as Sarah. Well done to all those creative minds, where flying kitchens led characters back to Medieval times (with plenty of fighting!), and ponies flew to Ice Cream Land. 

So, hands up who's had a great Purple Paw Print Day! And who's going again today? Well, Sarah and me, of course.  Check out Sarah's website at sarahmounsey.com 

Scooby or Squibby?

I've been hunting for answers today.

Maybe it's a way of making myself switch off. I don't know. But what I do know is that these answers won't appear all of a sudden.

To give you a taste of the questions - just a taste, mind you....

Do you say Scooby or Squibby?

Any children's author worth their salt will know what I'm talking about.  It's the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators.  Try saying that every time you want to mention the group you belong to: the group that has given you fantastic support and made sense of writers' cramp.

In London we pronounce it Scooby. It's fast, and easy to remember.  Moving to Singapore, I had to learn a new word - Squibby.  It doesn't roll off the tongue as well, it doesn't entice the taste-buds as Scooby does. Basically, it doesn't taste as nice.  Sorry, folks, I'm going with Scooby.  

No! Hang on! Remember your mantra, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans.'  I try to reach a compromise, running the two names together. Eargh! I produce a dreadful Squirbibooberly.

Oh dear, when will I know what to call it?  

Here's another one: Why do bananas grow upside-down?

Every other fruit I know of that grows on a tree, grows down from the stem. But the humble banana grows up.  I can verify this.  Nearby is a garden full of papaya and banana trees.  The papayas grow down.  The bananas grow up.  Could someone please have a word with the bananas? It's worrying.

And why does pandan leaf smell either sweet and enticing, or as smelly as fifty year old socks? 

My helper showed me how to boil pandan leaves in my kettle.  The flat smelled divine.  The tea I made with the water tasted delicately sweet and fragrant. The kettle still exudes pandan scent when I boil up for a brew. But my life-partner can only smell those abandoned socks.

Hats off!

I'm excited! I'm happy! I jump up an down with joy!  All because of a little icon.

For months now I've been jotting things down on my phone, under NOTES. All the obvious stuff - shops or temples I've stumbled across, new bus routes, recipes shared at the wet market. And ideas for stories.  Whenever I'm without a notepad, a paper napkin or an envelope, that's where I jot!

So why haven't I noticed the little brown arrow at the bottom of the screen? Why should I? I'm concentrating on writing. This page is just for jotting. And when I need the jotting, I look under NOTES. And there it will be, in all its mistyped glory.

But now I'm wiser. Much wiser.  I can send my jolly little jotting to myself by email. And save the trouble of retyping.

It's as good as finishing a lego kit with a six year-old.  Or making the perfect apple crumble. Or finding that lost earring.  It's sheer unadulterated joy. But before I jump around so much I do myself an injury, I'd like to say -

Hats off to all the clever people who put these phones together. 

And talking of hats ... well, that's the subject of the story that made me look at the little brown arrow. 

And these hats in my local mall would go down 
a storm on a hot day in Japan.

How to catch a bus

It's so easy to take the bus in Singapore!

There it is, on my iphone - the icon which tells me which bus is coming to my nearest bus stop (five minutes walk away).

All I have to do is check the 141. It will drop me 200 yards from the Blind Association.  I won't be hassled. I won't be stressed. I won't be 'glowing' in the heat. And the whole journey will cost me a fraction of a bus ride in the UK.

So here's what I do. I click on the icon. The bus isn't coming for 15 mins.  I do some emails. Hmmm. Lost in cyberspace, I lose that 15 minute safety net.  I go outside. It's very sticky.

I catch a cab....

Or, I leave the flat early. I haven't checked the timetable. I'm leaving everything up to chance.  It's more fun. I'm taking risks.  I say a cheery 'morning' to the guard. I wander along the road. It's not too hot. There's even a slight wind. The wind is stronger...drops of rain. By the time I have skirted Revenue House and am within a gecko's gasp of the bus stop it's tipping down.

I catch a cab...

Here's another way: I saunter along to the bus stop. No rain, no blazing sun even. The roads are full of buses. I check my phone. And while I'm checking it, the 141 whizzes by.  Oh no! My bus! I start to run. I wave my arms.  The bus drivers are usually very nice.  They are used to us mad foreigners, thinking we can break into a canter and still smile as we galumph onto the bus.  Yes!! I made it. I flop down on the bench reserved for 'aunties', pregnant women, disabled. I am disabled. My forehead is a swamp. I'm panting.  I pull out a flannel (always keep one handy). I arrive, on time, but still panting.  "Have you been running?" asks Jane, the Librarian.

And then, not infrequently, I know exactly when the bus is coming. I'm as cool as a cucumber. I wait in the shade of the bus stop. I ignore the legion of taxis winking their green lights at me.  The 141 will be here soon.   Look, it says 'ARR' on my phone.  It's ARRiving I tell myself.  But it isn't. What's gone wrong? Has the driver stopped for a coffee? Has someone given birth on the bus? (We are surrounded by hospitals.)  Did a dragon spirit whisk it off to another planet?  I see a bus. It's not the 141, but I'm sure it will do. I know this bus... when it's going in the opposite direction. One of my favourites. A double decker even, so I can peer at the rain trees, the bougainvillea on the bridges, the beautiful ferns and palms....

My iphone bleeps.  Messages that must be read.  I laugh at a friend's comments. I glance up.  The road is a bit too wide, isn't it? I don't recognize these tower blocks.  But then I do recognize this road. THE P.I.E! Main cross-island route to the airport.

"Jane, hello, it's Emma.  I took the wrong bus.. Haha, I know... Yes, I'll go on to Bishan and get the train... see you later!"

The ten minute journey takes forty five.

It's so easy to take the bus!