How to draw a... by Hannah shaw

When I was younger I remember being obsessed a book called ‘How to draw horses’. I spent HOURS trying to copy the pictures in it. Who knew that horses were made up of a series of jelly bean shapes and circles? I still find it difficult to draw horses (it’s the legs) but when I find myself getting muddled I try to refer back to the instructions I learnt from that book.

Recently I was asked by Puffin Post to do a double page spread of instructions on how to draw a puffin. They sent me some examples by quite famous illustrators like Ed Vere... I panicked, I’d never drawn a puffin before! This is where Google images was, I shamefully admit, a life-saver. In defence, it was unlikely I would have been able to see a live puffin anywhere in a 100 mile radius (Bristol Zoo perhaps?). It is even more unlikely I would have been able to get close enough to draw one. I used Google images a bit like the ‘How to draw horses’ book except I had to interpret what I saw from some very romantic photographs of puffins at sunset or puffin landing majestically with fish. I found that breaking down a puffin into essentially a potato shape and then adding all the extra bits like wings and beak worked quite well. 

I worry that the children who had a go at following my ‘How to draw a Puffin’ instructions will think that what they have drawn is an anatomically correct puffin. They definitely haven’t, they only have to do a google image search to see what a real one looks like! However, what they will have, is a unique Hannah Shaw style 'one off' (with two eyes on the side of its head) because as much as I enjoyed doing this, I don’t think it’s likely I’ll be drawing puffins again for a while! 

Tales from Outer Suburbia, Bird Kings and other things- Dianne Hofmeyr

If you've never seen a water buffalo giving directions, or had a strange visitor who's questioned your ideas and opinions, or had toys disappear in a garden visited by a faceless, barnacled diver, or discovered a dugong on your lawn, or heard a chorus of dogs howling at the night, or found that maps actually can lead you to the edge of the world, then I'll direct you (not with a pointy hoof I must say) to go immediately to a certain secret door to a cupboard that is marked The Illustration Cupboard at no 22 Bury Place in St James, London where you'll be 'surprised, relieved and delighted' at what you find.

Last Wednesday 30th August Shaun Tan appeared inside The Illustration Cupboard as quietly and mysteriously as his character Eric and left behind a trail of signatures and delicate bird drawings and magical red flowers that blossomed from his thumbprint inside the covers of the books that were piled everywhere. If you hurry and get there before the 10th September you'll still be in time to see his incredible pencil sketches and prints from Tales from Outer Suburbia, The Bird King, The Arrival, The Lost Thing and The Rabbits - an exhibition that is a magical celebration of quiet mysteries.

Shaun Tan himself seems a quiet and mysterious man. He says 'My stories generally begin with images rather than words. One of the joys of drawing is that meaning can be constantly postponed, and there is no pressure to 'say' anything special when working privately in a sketchbook.'

In The Bird King and other sketches we are given access to these private drawings that stem from things as varied as Columbian clay vases, undersea life, the workings of cogs, vistas of trees and aqua-sapiens creatures... all proof of his superb draftsmanship. He is one of those unusual artists who seems able to capture the same spontaneity in the finished work as in the sketch. In the Gallery they hang side by side for this comparison. His work appears free from binding content. He leaves his images and stories open to the viewer's imagination. And like his character Eric looking under a stamp to see what holds it, there's an invitation to ask questions. What's going on here? Or to draw conclusions. Is this plughole actually a flower?

From the age of 6 I walked to school alone, crossing roads and railway tracks, watching chameleons, stopping off to see the tethered elephants in an open field when the circus came to town. Unlike the little girl in his drawing being directed by the water bufflao, they didn't direct me anywhere but they left me curious and asking questions. I'm absolutely convinced Shaun Tan walked to school every day and wasn't ferried in the back of a car. His powers of observation are those of a child's open to every nuance. His stories are not so so much about 'telling' a story as about a curious child asking questions about life. Utterly refreshing and different, he says they are about 'casting loose lines into a random sea trying to hook something substantial.'

And although there is a strong vein of fantasy in Shaun Tan's work, it's grounded in reality. This perfect mesh of both fantasy and reality is obvious in the wordless book The Arrival - a story of being alone in a strange place where everything is nameless and unknown, at times wondrous and at times frightening - where the faces of the people tell you all.

So you might be too late to have a little red burgeoning tree flower inscribed into your book but there's still time to catch the magic of Shaun Tan's work. He might suggest that he casts lines into a random sea, but what you'll find is subtle, amazing and thoroughly substantial.

Raising a Cheer : Penny Dolan

Last Saturday I had a great time. I was able to sit through three sessions by illustrator Lynne Chapman. I've always really enjoyed the energy and colour in her work, and have a special fondness for the books she's done with SAS writer friends such as Julia Jarman and Damian Harvey.

So it was an almost total pleasure seeing Lynne working with children small and big and hear her talk to adults about her work.

Almost total. Because I'd also been involved with setting up the day.

It was a useful reminder of the work behind such events. The visitor - Lynne - and the date were easy choices once I'd made sure to avoid Wimbledon finals weekend. There was all the publicity - local press, radio, and flyers and display materials for the library. There was arranging the times on the day, the travel and the pick-up.

There'd also been several long meetings and emails about the venue with the other organisations involved and the people who'd be there - or not be there - to help and when, and small emergencies. All important stuff.

I mustn't forget the collecting of materials for the workshop, the lunch for Lynne, the evalustion forms & photo permissions, the books for the booksales (not forgetting the float), the refreshments and so on. There has been more and there is still more to do to finish the event off completely.

The day was joyous, and I didn't mind a bit (though may have muttered darkly at times) but it did consume so much of my time.

No sympathy needed here for me, though.

I just want to raise a huge huge cheer of thanks for all the people, especially librarians, teachers, festival arrangers and bookshop owners who so often do all this work for US!

By the way, if you are interested in illustration, look up Lynne's website and the images on her amazing blog, An Illustrator's Life For Me!


A Boy Called M.O.U.S.E out in paperback this August
www.pennydolan.com

How a book cover is created – David Thorpe

I thought you'd like to see the process of creation of the cover of my latest novel, Stormteller.



The cover illustrator is the awesome Elaine Franks and she happened to take photographs of every stage of the production of the artwork, in her Garden Studio. From a variety of thumbnail ideas to the finished digital artwork, the publisher has compiled the images into a video.

Part of the process of creating the cover involved showing drafts on Facebook and inviting people to choose the one they liked best. I enjoyed the process of crowdsourcing opinions, because I got an idea of what engages readers. Thank you to everyone who took part in that process.

I have made a Pinterest board of images connected to the novel. Amongst other things it contains some of the photographs I took while researching the location of the novel, as well as some of the cover images that Elaine sent.

Since the novel contains detailed descriptions of places, I found the process of taking photographs essential for understanding the landscape. I'm a very visual writer and want to 'see' the scenes I describe.

Besides the location, the research included investigating the legends that I used as a basis for part of the book, and the science of climate change – particularly as it applied to that location: Borth, Taliesin, Pumlumon and so on, which is also the same area that is used as the setting for the successful Welsh TV series Hinterland.

I've collected all this together on my website here. There's also a link on that page where you have until December 10 to enter a competition for a free copy!

WHO WEARS THE HAT? – Dianne Hofmeyr

The winners of the 2014 Carnegie, Kevin Brooks, and the Kate Greenaway, Jon Klassen, are both crowned, adding to a list of illustrious writers and illustrators. Recently C. J. Bushby wrote about how we judge quality in children’s novels and analysed the criteria for judging the Carnegie. Today's blog focuses on how we judge picture books in the Greenaway. 

The blurb on the back cover of the darkly comic book and daring book – THIS IS NOT MY HAT – is its simple premise.

A fish has stolen a hat.

And he’ll probably get away with it.

Probably.

Without getting further than the murky end papers, the reader knows something untoward might happen in the dark depths of this book, where the text clearly doesn’t coincide with what’s happening in the pictures.

 

The first line:
This hat is not mine. I just stole it… is a startling and daring line for openers in a picture book. Tension on the first page. Solid black page on left with a tiny fish wearing a hat and stark black print on a white page to the right. Even the simple black dot of the fish’s eye suggests apprehension.

How can an artist get tension in a single black dot inside a white orb? But if your name happens to be Jon Klassen anything is possible. And when the little fish announces about the big fish that... 

 

the reader is already saying... uh oh! And when a crab gestures one way and his eyes look another, the reader already knows the crab is a traitor, because that's the brilliance of Jon Klassen.

The Greenaway is judged very differently to the Carnegie. It’s not about writers but about artists and outstanding artistic quality and about satisfying a visual experience which leaves a lasting impression. I went back to the guidelines to be sure. http://www.carnegiegreenaway.org.uk/greenaway/award_criteria.php

Apart from the aesthetic qualities, the illustrations must offer the reader either new experiences, or reflect pre-existing experiences. And it should also work at different levels for different readers. The artistic style of the design has also to be integral to the book… cover, endpaper, title page, font, spacing, format, shape and size… often decisions made by an art director but hopefully with the illustrator’s input. And if there is text, there should be synergy between the text and the illustration.

I found the idea of the text being optional, interesting, because of course there is always text for a picture book whether it appears printed or not. It works in the same way that a film can’t exist without a screenplay.

Interestingly I went back to the past 10 years of Greenaway winners – names that include Chris Riddell, Emily Gravett (twice), Mini Grey, Catherine Rayner, Freya Blackwood, Graham Baker Smith, Jim Kay, Levi Penfold and of course now the brilliant Jon Klassen. And out of 10 books only two had separate writers. Perhaps I’ve cheated a bit as I haven’t counted Chris Riddell’s 2004 win with Gulliver’s Travels, having a separate writer because of it being an adaptation Martin Jenkins please forgive me...  as a writer I know adaptations are never just adaptions but intricately written, almost new stories. 

Even if we bring the figure up to 7 out of 10 as being illustrator written, the balance is still tipped. Does this mean that judges are finding picture books written and illustrated by the same person, to be stronger and more worthy of a Kate Greenaway? Is there more synergy? More artistic merit? Is the book more seamless… more acceptable… more exciting?

So where does this leave the picture book writer? If we only write but don’t illustrate, are we a breed that will be done away with soon? Is this a wordless ending for us?

www.diannehofmeyr.com 

Dianne Hofmeyr's latest picture book, Zeraffa Giraffa was illustrated by Jane Ray and published by Frances Lincoln

BOOKS FOR KEEPS  5 Star review – ‘A fairytale that just happens to be true. Each spread is a delight, a chapter in itself, with so much to read, observe and wonder at. A very special book indeed.’  

Giraffes Galore… the journey of a book – Dianne Hofmeyr.

Excuse the light-heartedness. It's Spring after all. So pop the champagne corks, blow the party hooters… today a picture book story I wrote 15 years ago is being launched at The Illustration Cupboard in London. The timing seems right. Everywhere I look there are giraffes galore – in the windows of Kath Kidson, in the Louis Vuitton ads ...

... but best of all on the cover of my new book, Zeraffa Giraffa.

In my notebook I found the date when my story started taking shape – August 1999. 

I’d just read the historical account in Michael Allin’s book Zarafa of the giraffe that was sent to Paris by the Pasha Muhammed Ali in 1827 – the second giraffe ever to be seen in Europe. But my fascination with giraffes began as a teenager when I’d come up really close to them in the wild on horseback in Zimbabwe – that graceful walk, their necks stretching out above the tree-line like exotic flowers, their lolloping gallop, their bizarre stance when drinking and their stares of curiosity.  

So why did my manuscript take 15 years to be published? 

Take heart those of you who have texts in your bottom drawer. Some stories are often just not right in a certain market – the perfect illustrator can’t be found… the economics don’t work. Then in 2004 I saw the magnificent life-size puppet performance of The Tall Horse based on the same story I'd written, produced by the Handspring puppet company in South Africa (it went on to tour in the US and Europe as well). The Handspring is the same company who much later produced the horse in War Horse. Their 5 metre tall giraffe of my story was made of carbon fibre rods, with two puppeteers on stilts inside the body frame, operating the turn of the head, the twitch of a tail or ear and the swaying, graceful gait. I was so mesmerized by the poetic performance that I still have the program and ticket. I can tell you that on Thursday 9th Sept 2004, I sat in seat N1 at the Baxter Theatre, Cape Town.

the giraffe puppet from the production The Tall Horse

Zeraffa Giraffa is essentially a story of a journey of a giraffe who travels from Khartoum with her keeper Atir, down the Nile to Alexandria and across the sea to Marseilles, and finally walks to Paris… not as easy assignment for an illustrator. Who better than Jane Ray? She has captured brilliantly a sense of Africa as well as France in her wide double-paged vistas. We sense both the heat and shimmer of the desert and the contrasting softness of the French countryside without the book losing its fluidity. 

Her palette is strong, her colours intense, the detail sublime – tiny dots of gold highlight the texture on the giraffe’s horn, a sinuous, long, black tongue entwines the curls of the equally black French railing, an inquisitive monkey on the dhow, strange boxes with Arabic font and measurement ... what do they contain?... scraps of maps embedded in the sea suggesting the journey – wonderful, tiny, visual codes that will be picked up by an astute child. (perhaps even by an adult?) 

While I was writing Zeraffa Giraffa, I went to the Jardin des Plantes alongside the Seine in Paris to see the building of La Rotonde where the giraffe was housed together with her keeper, Atir. He slept up on a platform close to her face and remained with her for the rest of the 18 years she lived. I tried to imagine the bond that must have existed between them … two exiles from Africa… a boy who had never been further than Khartoum and a giraffe who had lost her savannah ... both alone in this strange, foreign city. What memories did they hold on to? 

Then a few days ago I saw an article in a newspaper about Mario, a zookeeper who has a brain tumour and can no longer walk, whose last wish was to see his beloved giraffes he’d looked after at the Rotterdam zoo. He was taken there by the Ambulance Wish Foundation. The newspaper shows a photograph of a tall giraffe bending low over a fence and nuzzling the face of the zookeeper as he lies strapped to his ambulance stretcher. What greater bond than that?

If you visit La Rotonde on a quiet day, close your eyes and perhaps you’ll feel the hot wind of Africa and imagine yourself standing there with Zeraffa and her keeper Atir, while he whispers stories to her of a land far away.

My giraffe and I have been on a long, long journey together. The giraffe’s journey took two years, mine took fifteen. Thank you Jane you’ve made the story come alive. Let’s pop those corks and blow the party hooters. Perhaps like the bakers of Paris, we might even celebrate with giraffe biscuits!

Zeraffa Giraffa, by Dianne Hofmeyr, illustrated by Jane Ray, published by Frances Lincoln, April 2014, translated so far as well, into Danish, Swedish, Korean and Afrikaans.
www.diannehofmeyr.com