Do pop over to Authors Allsorts to read about what I would be if I wasn’t an writer-illustrator. It involves being basically unemployable, my Mum’s dream for me to have a shoe shop, and my secret life as a Borrower. There’s a close up of my hand which looks slightly horrible, like a huge ham. Ah well.
My good pal Zoe noticed that I called myself a writer and not an author. I’ve been thinking about it all day. She takes children’s books extremely seriously and has a lot of respect for our profession, so considers a picture book text as high an art form as anything else.
I came up with something about writing books with too few words to be a proper author, but actually that’s tosh.
Peter Bently chipped in and put it perfectly: few words, but ‘what laboured-over, brain-wracked, spit-n-polished, nipped-n-tucked, finely-nuanced, well-aimed words’.
I wonder whether it’s because I like to say what I do – I write and illustrate books for children – rather than what I am.
‘I am an author’ – it sounds weird to me, but I don’t know why it should.
What about you?
Anyway, I have some HOMEWORK for you.
I tipped out and looked at my story-writing notebooks (as you can see I take the Henry Ford approach – you can have any colour as long as it’s black).
Lots of pages covered in words scribbled chaotically, a phrase here, a name there, half a thought, a crumb of an idea. To proper words what doodling is to proper drawing. But what IS that, what kind of writing is it, does it have a name?