Rastamouse, The Moomins and Me - Catherine Johnson

If you’re reading this on Saturday the 9th, at home with a cup of coffee and a bit of toast, think of me, sitting in a tent, a real live three dimensional one, in Coram’s Fields in London.

I will be slap bang in the middle of a real literature fest, my tent, pitched between two towering colossi of children’s literature. A minnow swimming with sharks, much as I am here, in amongst brilliant stars, old and new.

On the 9th I am taking part in Pop Up, a festival even newer than the ABBA blog fest, and with luck my tent will be dressed as an early 18th century Inn, blazing fire, candle light, straw on the floor, and a surly Innkeeper and some of the Nest of Vipers crew.

On one side, The Moomins; I grew up with them, I loved them, my whole family loves them. Who can resist the Groke or the Hattifatteners or Snufkin? And on the other side, that powerhouse of reggae fantasticness Rastamouse! I defy anyone to hate a character who always endeavours to ‘make a bad ting good’.

So hurry up, drink your coffee, come down to Coram’s Fields and cheer me up.

Catherine Johnson