The Sixth Anthology of Unpublished Children's Fiction and Illustration by SCBWI British Isles and Europe Members

The sixth anthology of unpublished children’s fiction and illustration by SCBWI British Isles and Europe members published by The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators British Isles and Working Partners Ltd 2018 CONTENTS CLICKING ON THE ENTRIES BELOW WILL TAKE YOU TO THE RELEVANT PAGE FROM FRANCES HARDINGE 4 FROM ALEXIS DEACON 6 FROM SCBWI BRITISH ISLES 8 FROM WORKING PARTNERS 10 SPECIAL THANKS FROM THE CO-CREATORS 11 THE ILLUSTRATORS 14 RIVERSIDE PICNIC by Laure Allain 15 TOAD CAR WASHERWOMAN by Emily Jones 17 EVERYTHING WAS VERY STILL NOW – 19 MOLE IN THE WILD WOOD by Deborah Sheehy BADGER’S STUDY by Sandy Horsley 21 UNDER THE YELLOW MOON by Kate Read 23 A BABBLING PROCESSION OF THE BEST 25 STORIES IN THE WORLD by Rachel Lovatt DRAWING EXCALIBUR by Jacob Turner 27 HOW HE GOT HIS BIG FOOT by James Crosland-Mills 29 PANDORA’S BOX by Sally Walker 31 NESSIE by Monika Baum 33 PANDORA FINDS HOPE by Janet Catherine Gibson Pickering 35 POOKAH AND THE HUMAN CHILD by Hannah Mosley 37 THE WRITERS 39 AISHA AND THE OMEGAS by David Hall 40 JEDEDIAH DREAMING RANSOME by Annie Walmsley 53 SAFFRON SAPPHIRE AND THE BIG FAT INDIAN 64 WEDDING OF THE YEAR by Serena Patel RETURN TO THE WILD by Nicola Penfold 76 KELSIE CARTER AND THE EVIL CHIHUAHUA ARMY 88 by Katie Hayoz SHADOWSCENT by Peta Freestone 101 THE SPY WHO GROUNDED ME by Matthew Olson-Roy 111 THE CURSE OF THE WEIRD WOLF by Dale Hannah 123 THE BOY I AM by Kathryn Kettle 136 THE KNIGHT SHIFT by Emma Mason 149 THE DARLINGTON MIRACLES by Sarah Merrett 163 HONORARY MENTIONS: Illustrators 173 HONORARY MENTIONS: Writers 174 ISBN: 978-0-244-94910-5 COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All works contained herein are copyrighted by their respective authors. No reproduction of any kind is permitted without the owner’s written permission. FROM FRANCES HARDINGE Honorary Chair for Writers Writing is not for the faint-hearted. Giving shape to our dreams and letting other people judge them is more than a little terrifying. We meticulously scoop out our still-beating heart, then let people poke it a bit and tell us that it needs trimming. (They’re usually right.) We venture outside our comfort zone, because that’s the only way to find our own voice, our individual style. I always feel that my books should scare me a bit. When they do, that means I’ve set myself real challenges, tried something new, ventured into emotionally raw territory, or taken risks with the reactions of my readers. And at the same time we have to fight the relentless brain-weasels which tell us that we have no talent, that everything we’ve produced is rubbish, that we’re ‘wasting’ our story idea and will never get another one, and that anyway somebody else has already done it better. This battle can be exhausting. Given the circumstances, writing anything at all is a victory. Every completed chapter is a triumph of willpower. It doesn’t seem that triumphant a lot of the time, however. There’s often a discouraging feeling that one has made no progress at all. Picture a hero on their great quest, carving a path through the dense forest of other commitments, wading through swamps of uncertainty, battling the dragons of self-doubt, breaking out of the stagnant dungeon of lost momentum…only to find themselves walking down a familiar path towards their own farmstead. A rejection letter lies on the doormat. After all their trials, perils and determination they are back exactly where they started. It’s unbelievably unfair! Some heroes might decide to give up on the whole quest and go back to growing turnips. But some do not. Some realise that they are not really back where they started. The whole journey may still lie in front of them, but now they are more experienced travellers. Along their route they have learned tricks and won friends that will serve them well in the future. So they sit down 4 with their hand-scrawled maps to work out where they went wrong last time, then bandage their blisters and set off again. And again. And again. Even for the intrepid, the solitary nature of such a quest can wear on the spirit. Thankfully SCBWI provides a much-needed base, where such adventurers can find assistance, share tips and warn each other about pit traps. Better still, SCBWI’s Undiscovered Voices competition shines a spotlight on striking new talents. Many of them go on to achieve great things. The authors appearing in this anthology should be congratulated, but also thanked for adding their fresh, distinctive voices to the world. There is a special pleasure in falling in love with a new author, and knowing at once that you can trust them to carry you somewhere wondrous without dropping you. I wish them the very best, and hope that they find all the enthusiastic readers they deserve. Frances Hardinge BACK TO CONTENTS PAGE 5 FROM ALEXIS DEACON Honorary Chair for Illustrators We live in a world full of voices, each one unique, each one a world unto itself. It can be such a struggle to be noticed at all, let alone heard. For many of us who dream of writing and illustrating our own stories, the struggle to make our way can be so tough that it grows to dominate all else. We forget what we wanted to say and why we wanted to say it. We just want someone to listen to us, to acknowledge we are here. And so we shout louder and louder, saying outrageous things that mean nothing to us. We forget that our story was a quiet story that began as a whisper. I was very fortunate when I first began in children’s books to have the support of two wonderful editors, Ian Craig and Caroline Roberts. I sent them a book dummy I had made about a zoo full of monsters. I had tried to make it as much like other children’s books I had read as possible. I copied the prose style, I borrowed phrases, I drew heavily on influences like Sendak and Steig. Try as I might I couldn’t hide my own voice. I was called in to meet Caroline and Ian at what was then Random House Children’s Books. Gently and patiently they explained that severed hands was not suitable content for the under-seven age bracket and that a story should traditionally have an ending. They also stripped away the garble of voices I didn’t understand and weren’t my own and picked out what was authentic. Over the next six months I sent them story after story, each one wrong in a different way. It was a kind of crash course in picture-book making. When I began what was to become my first book, Slow Loris, I remember how patiently they kept guiding me back to my first dummy. I wanted to do the book in etching then to redraw everything in fine pen, then to make oil paintings. Each time they insisted that I look again at what I had made first, unconscious of trying to please anyone, just trying to tell a story. The world has changed a great deal in the short time I have been making books. In the age of the internet, anyone can put their work in the public domain. Your work might be seen daily by thousands without it ever 6 having to be ‘published’. For the artist, this is a wonderful opportunity, but it is not without its dangers. Just as publishing can seem sometimes to value profit above all else, so we as creators can be seduced into thinking that a larger and larger audience is the ultimate goal. Such immediate access to feedback, both positive and negative, can distort us. All too easily we fall into the trap of pandering to our audience, forgetting that we first began to write or draw so that our own voice might be heard. If we make work for its own sake; if we care about what we do; if we write and draw in sadness, in anger, out of love, out of joy, then our work will always be worth sharing. If we speak with an uncommon voice of experiences few others share or care about then those who did share them will care about them all the more and take strength from finding that another soul felt the same. Stories are not told to bring money or fame but to communicate ideas. For all those who want to be heard, take the time to ask what it is you want to say and why. There is no voice on earth that is not worth listening to. As an author or an illustrator, sometimes the best thing you can do is stop and look and listen. There are stories to tell that haven’t been told; there are those without a voice, crying out for someone to speak on their behalf. Writers and illustrators do not make the world, they tell it, and there is still so much that remains undiscovered. Alexis Deacon BACK TO CONTENTS PAGE 7 FROM SCBWI BRITISH ISLES Welcome to Undiscovered Voices 2018, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators’ (SCBWI) sixth anthology of undiscovered writers and illustrators. The SCBWI is a professional network for the exchange of knowledge and ideas amongst writers, illustrators, editors, publishers, agents, librarians, educators, booksellers and others involved with literature for children and young people.

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