Maisie Chan is the winner of the 2022 Branford Boase award with her brilliantly funny and thoughtful Danny Chung Does Not Do Maths.  We were delighted to talk with Maisie about her writing and about the award.

What was your journey to becoming an author?

It’s been a long journey!

I guess I had an epiphany when my mum passed away in 2003. I remember telling someone I wanted to ‘write books!’ but I had no idea where to begin. Three years later, I began with short stories and flash fiction for adults. I felt that was a good place to begin as the form is short and I could then move onto novels. I have to say that I was immensely scared of writing a novel and didn’t try to write one for years. I felt it was too big a hurdle and that I was not ready for the task. I also wanted to write a memoir, however, I remember someone telling me that I was ‘too young’ to write a memoir. At the time, I didn’t agree, I felt I had a lot to say about my life. Yet, they were right in terms of my writing ability. I was still very much learning to become a writer. I had support from Writing West Midlands.

I had some short stories published and lead creative writing workshops for adults and children, but I still didn’t write a novel until I became a mentee on the inaugural Megaphone scheme with mentor Leila Rasheed back in 2016. I’d had some time away to have children and had hardly written a thing for five years but felt that this was a great opportunity for me to get back to what mattered to me, which was writing. I had wanted to try writing for children after a librarian had told me my ‘voice’ suited children’s and Y.A. I thought I would give it a go. The year I spent as a Megaphone mentee was brilliant. We had masterclasses from Patrice Lawrence (just before Orange Boy was published!), Catherine Johnson, Candy Gourlay, Alex Wheatle and more. We got to speak to editors and agents, and we had a showcase at the London Book Fair. I wrote a novel for teens called Looking For Lily Wong and landed my first agent soon after I finished writing it.

During the time I was editing my teen novel, I felt something just wasn’t working and put it aside. My agent asked me if I had any middle grade ideas and I pitched her Danny Chung Does Not Do Maths (which was then called Lychees and Bingo Balls). She liked the idea, and I wrote it. A year later we went on submission, and it was picked up by Piccadilly Press in a two-book deal and it was bought by Amulet in the States a few weeks later. I thought Danny Chung might do better in the States than in the U.K. because there hadn’t been many (or any) titles published here for that age group by or for British Chinese people. I wasn’t sure there was going to be a readership. But I’m glad to say I was wrong!

Can you introduce us to Danny Chung please?

Danny is eleven-years-old and is a young artist. He loves drawing comics and getting his friend Ravi to help with the speech bubbles. It’s an activity that makes them laugh and one where they can be truly themselves. He also uses drawing to vent his frustrations and to work out things going on in his life.

Danny lives above a Chinese takeaway with his parents. They want him to do well at school, and in their eyes that means being good at maths and other subjects. His mum’s best friend, Auntie Yee is always comparing him to Amelia Yee who is good at everything. This makes Danny feel bad.

Danny also wants to be part of a ‘cool’ group of boys who play physical games (scooting and shooting their foam pellet guns around the park) rather than the more imaginative activities that he and Ravi partake in. And to make things worse, he’s got a math presentation and his gran from China moves in. No-one has told him this is going to happen, so it’s the worse surprise he can think of getting. Danny has a lot of personal challenges to overcome in the book.

He's a regular boy on one hand. But he’s also a British Chinese boy too and so there are things about his family’s situation and lifestyle which are uniquely British Chinese. My main concern when writing him was making him relatable. He’s got wants and desires like any eleven-year-old boy whose parents hope they’ll to be a certain way, but he has his own path to follow.

The relationship between Danny and his grandmother, Nai Nai, is beautifully realised and is often very funny, was it challenging creating the dynamic between the pair when language is a barrier for them?

Well, yes and no. My concern for Nai Nai was that I wanted her to inhabit the space in the book without speaking much and so she is very physical in how she moves, and her actions speak volumes. I wanted readers to ‘see’ her in their minds clearly when they read the book and she is by far the most beloved character. I have a lot of experience in real life of staying with people or communicating with others who don’t speak the same language as me. I lived in Taipei for a while and I was the one who was the outsider, who couldn’t speak the language and would smile and point at things. You find that you can use your body, your expressions and your hands for communication when language is a barrier, so I put all of that into the novel. There may be the occasional blip too and you can see that in the scene were Danny takes Nai Nai to the bowling green and there is an incident with a large fruit. It made me laugh to write those kinds of scenes and I think people have enjoyed the humour of the book, but it was hard not to make Nai Nai into a caricature. She is based on a few older women that I know, grandmothers and mothers who do spit out lychee seeds into buckets, or who bash watermelons with their palms. Women who want to show their love by feeding you and feeding you some more.

The book is written in first person, so we see things form Danny’s point of view and I think he was meaner to her in the earlier drafts.  My editor helped me to bring out Danny’s feelings about his grandmother more, but to have him less stroppy. She said he also needed to be likeable! I think the tricky part was making him dislike her for taking up space in his life, rather than disliking her for being ‘foreign’ – I didn’t want readers to see her to ‘other’ even though she is newly-arrived, so that was a challenge and I hope it worked. In the scene with the chicken feet this came to the forefront – I didn’t want Danny to be embarrassed by the food, he loves the food she brought to school. He wanted to eat it. He’s embarrassed that she’s shown up to school. Little things like that were important for me. I’ve seen books where Chinese food is posited as ‘disgusting’. It’s about showing the relationship between them as a bridge between generations and cultures. I had a lot of worries about representation when writing it. I wanted to centre a British Chinese character, he’s from the diaspora and so it’s almost a third space. Non-Chinese people might see him as an outsider even though he’s British, Chinese from Asia don’t see him as fully Chinese because he can’t speak the language. It’s a precarious place to be.

Danny finds self-expression through his art, did you have any means for release when you were growing up?

I used to like drawing when I was a child. I won a couple of art competitions when I was in reception class. My painting of Little Red Riding Hood was put up in my local library (the now closed Selly Oak Library in South Birmingham) and I used to like music. I was a fan of Shakin’ Stevens and Adam and the Ants and put masking tape on my face to replicate the Adam Ant stripes that he used to have on his face. I liked to read and to go to the library. I had a few of those Ladybird fairytale books at home but we weren’t a family who read. My parents would read the local newspaper and my dad would buy the Angling Times, as she was a fisherman, but that was it. I liked to make up games and play out on the streets and in the local park, which was called Graffiti Park by the kids, you can guess why!

There's a lot of thoughtful comment around the fusion of different cultures and traditions but there is also a lot of humour, were you conscious of creating a balance between the two and is humour a useful means for exploring complex ideas?

I think the humour comes from my family background. I think humour can be used to break down barriers between people. It can also create divides if you are using it to bully or make fun of someone. How can I centre this person’s experience and add nuance to their character? I think was one question I looked at when writing the characters. For example, Auntie Yee is a tiger mom. She is like a lot of parents I’ve met (Chinese and also non-Chinese) who are pushy, they’re competitive and think about their child as the sum of their academic achievements. I presented that stereotype (because there are people like that I know), but I also added a layer of empathy where we can see that Auntie Yee, also strives to belong in a culture that does not accept her fully so then she thinks that by having certain things or having a daughter who is the best is the way to make friends of be accepted.

The Branford Boase recognises both a debut author and also their editor, can you tell us a little about the relationship you had with your editor Georgia Murray at Piccadilly Press?

Georgia loved my writing from the beginning. When we met for the first time, I was sure this was the right editor for my book. I could tell she loved the characters and she said it was in ‘good shape’ which made me feel like I wasn’t a total novice.

Georgia sends me notes about the big things like structure, characters, plot and then there are notes on the actual manuscript. I must say that each time I’ve had editor notes from Georgia, they have been kind (which is very important for first time writers), the tone is not condescending, or demanding either. She offers gentle suggestions and so far, there hasn’t been a note which I’ve disagreed on or had to dispute. I think there is a now an inherent trust between us. She knows how I work, which can be disorganised, as I have a rough plan when I start writing but I like to see what will appear as I’m writing. I have to delete a lot of words sometimes as I try things and they may not always work but I accept that as part of the process of writing.

It was interesting for me to have Georgia there from the idea stage with my second novel - Keep Dancing, Lizzie Chu and I would say her input into the shaping of Lizzie Chu was a lot more than with Danny Chung as I had her support all the way through. She was particularly helpful when I was stuck. I think sometimes I want someone else to come up with the answers for me, but Georgia is good at encouraging me to stick with the process. Parts of the novel appear in the writing of it and some of it feels unconscious and magical almost, I don’t know where some of it comes from.

I value Georgia’s measured nature and if I have any concerns (I am a worrier!) then I feel I can always go to her and tell her what’s on my mind. I trust Georgia (and her team) to know about the market and so when they came up with Danny Chung Does Not Do Maths as the title of the book, I wasn’t sure, but then I told myself, I have to trust her and the team to know what is best for the book.

Your latest book is 'Keep Dancing, Lizzie Chu,' can you tell us anything about it please?

Keep Dancing, Lizzie Chu is about a young carer whose grandad, Wai Gong is acting a little strange. They’re huge Strictly Come Dancing fans and Lizzie gets tickets to the Blackpool Tower (the home of Ballroom and Latin dancing) and she wants to take him there for a special day out but she’s twelve-years-old and needs help. It’s got a road trip, cosplay and of course, dancing. But there are also intermissions of Chinese myths and legends about the goddess Guan Yin who features in the book. She is the goddess of compassion and mercy. The book is influenced and was written during the pandemic. It was hard going! It’s really a homage to popular culture which was our escape during a tough time, and also, it’s a book about joy and kindness. It’s quite different from Danny Chung Does Not Do Maths, the themes are a little bit older, as is the voice. The writing was also different as the story isn’t as layered as Danny Chung either and there isn’t an antagonist as such, the obstacles are linear. But it is emotive, so I’ve been told and there is humour in there too and a lively cast of characters. I hope readers like it!

The winner of the Branford Boase traditionally goes on to judge the award, is there anything you will be particularly keen to see next year?

Ohhhh, what an interesting question! I don’t know! I loved seeing a highly illustrated book on this year’s shortlist. I think graphic novels are highly sophisticated and so perhaps I’d like to see one of those do well – a YA graphic novel maybe? They’re becoming increasingly popular for all age ranges. Also, funny books are hard to write but often don’t get the kudos that they should in children’s literature. If you can make a children smile, laugh or giggle that is no mean feat and I think children need joy now as they’ve been through so much. So maybe a funny book where you learn something new too? Who knows what we are going to get next year!

A big thank you to Maisie for the interview and to Andrea Reece for the opportunity.

On the fourth day of our fantastic Pop-Up blog takeover to celebrate the publication of 10 Stories to Make a Difference, a collection of stories marking the 10^th anniversary of Pop UpFestivals, it is a real pleasure to introduce readers to Eleanor Cullen.  Eleanor was one of four writers that won the Pop Up writing competition.  Her story A Match for a Mermaid is illustrated by the inimitable David Roberts.

When I began planning my first picture book, I knew I wanted it to have two things. The first was mermaids, since my niece loves them, and the second was LGBTQ representation, since I felt characters belonging to that community were missing from the picture books I had grown up with. It was combining those two elements - an appreciation of a mythical creature and a desire for more diverse picture books - that led to the creation of A Match for a Mermaid.

The story follows Princess Malu the Mermaid, who is about to become queen of the whole ocean, but who is a little scared of ruling entirely on her own. To ease her nervousness, she recruits her best friend Brooke to help her find a merman to be her king. Brooke obliges, willing to do anything to make Malu happy, but Malu can’t imagine herself marrying any of the potential suitors she meets. Some are too loud, others have hair she doesn’t like, and one is perfect in almost every conceivable way, yet she still finds fault with him! It’s only then that Brooke suggests Malu marry her instead, since she possesses none of the qualities Malu disliked in the rejected mermen. Malu loves that idea, and the story ends with the two mermaids being crowned queens together.

With this ending, I hoped to show that a same-sex union is just as valid and easy to accept as any other. Malu chooses to love Brooke because she has every quality she was looking for in a spouse, and that’s all there is to it. She never thinks that the fact they’re both females means their relationship can’t progress past friendship, because that thought never occurs to her. She just wants to marry someone she could love, and she knows that someone is Brooke and definitely none of the men she has met. I hope that children, and even adults, who read this ending can understand Malu’s thought process and realise that coming to terms with your sexuality doesn’t necessarily mean you have to struggle or agonise over your feelings; if it feels right, it probably is.

There are countless stories and books which end differently to mine, with a princess finding her prince, or vice versa, and most of them are amazing. Some of them are even my personal favourite tales. What I’ve noticed, however, is that there are far fewer stories about princesses finding princesses or princes marrying princes, and I can’t help but think that’s a shame. I know that, when I was growing up, I would have benefitted from reading about relationships which differed from the usual boy meets girl trope, even if it would have just made me realise sooner that same-sex relationships were as deserving of celebration as heterosexual ones. With that in mind, I can’t help but think that other children would benefit from the same thing: from reading about diverse characters and relationships just as easily as they could read about the same characters and relationships which most books represent. That is why I hope that my story, which celebrates two gay main characters and a same-sex wedding and royal coronation, is one that will help children appreciate the beauty of being different.

Being a debut author is incredibly exciting, and being a debut author with a book which celebrates diversity is something I am very grateful for. I’m especially thankful since David Roberts’ beautiful illustrations in A Match for a Mermaid give every character, no matter how small the part they play is, a personality and a unique look. I think he made the book into an even bigger, and greater, celebration of humanity than I could have imagined, and I know that many children will be able to look at his pictures and appreciate characters who may look like them (despite their tails or tentacles) or who they can admire for their own reasons. 

As well as David Roberts, I have Pop-Up Projects to thank for bringing my story and characters to life. Because of them, Malu and Brooke have the opportunity to teach children that loving someone is brave, especially when you love someone the world doesn’t expect you to love. They can also preach the fact that being open about who you love can change your life!

Pop-Up once described A Match for a Mermaid as a fairytale with a twist, and I have remembered that description with pride; as someone who has always loved fairy stories and classic romantic narratives, I am honoured to think that I created a story which is worthy of the fairytale label, especially since it revolves around two LGBTQ characters. With the confidence bestowed upon me from Pop-Up believing in me and my story, I hope to release more children’s books which celebrate diversity and differences whilst they inspire and entertain young readers.

A big thank you to Eleanor Cullen for the blog to Pop Up Festival for organising the innovative project and to Nicky Potter for the opportunity with the blog.

Throughout the week of 21 June, we will be celebrating Pop Up Projects’ tenth anniversary and will be welcoming different authors and illustrators from their 10 Stories to Make a Difference books to the blog.  To introduce this special week, we are delighted to welcome Dylan Calder, founder of Pop Up.

Children’s literature organisations like Pop Up Projects, the nonprofit I founded ten years ago, occupy a vital, often unacknowledged position in the literature and publishing ecosystem. If traditional publishing represents that moment when the author ‘takes the stage’, it’s a fair chance that somewhere along their journey organisations like ours will play a crucial role: organising their workshops in classrooms, getting their books into school libraries, programming them in festivals, bringing their books to life in museums and galleries, showcasing them on digital platforms – and more. If they’re authors of colour and other marginalised backgrounds, they’ll have learned first-hand that ‘diversity’ drives everything we do; that it’s not just about children seeing and being seen, it’s about social justice and the part we have to play in championing equality and challenging hate.

Without the literature sector reaching readers in the places the big festivals never go, and investing in authors’ livelihoods in an age of dwindling advances, there would be fewer authors, fewer from non-white and lower income backgrounds, and more teachers relying on Roald Dahl and Harry Potter because that’s all they know. What’s remarkable though is that given all this literature we create and co-create, platform and champion, we don’t make and sell books ourselves. Initially, I didn’t see 10 Stories to Make a Difference as a commercial opportunity; it was a Birthday Project, really: we’d commission and produce a super small print run of ten short stories and poems, written and illustrated by some of our old friends and new, to celebrate turning ten in 2021, while introducing some debut writers and illustrators into the world.

And then the stories came in. Stories that needed an audience, that could really make a difference to children’s lives, providing some of those windows and mirrors we’re always talking about. 

Having invited six well-known writers to contribute stories on the theme of difference, exploring it from any angle and working within any form, it quickly became clear that here was an opportunity to publish stories that had not or might not find a home with other publishers: Jamila Gavin’s In Her Element, a long-nurtured tale of a non-verbal girl with quadriplegia who day dreams of a world without gravity under the sea, could not find a publisher prepared to put a character with disabilities front and centre; Sita Brahmachari’s lyrical free-verse story, Swallow’s Kiss, in which a little girl follows a trail of paper birds to the refugee community who made them, was turned down by several publishers; Philip Ardagh, one of our funniest authors, played against type in giving us Mistaken for a Bear, a historical tragedy set on the grimy streets of London where there’s a tiger on the loose; Marcus Sedgwick channelled the spirit of crisis that coursed through 2020 in Together We Win, in which an ethereal eyewitness muses on those brave human moments that kickstart revolutions; Laura Dockrill offered a deceptively simple poem about feeling out of place, championing the oddness inside us, the things that make us weird - the joyfully titled Magnificent!

Through an international competition for writers under 26 we discovered four incredible new voices: Eleanor Cullen, a recent creative writing graduate whose A Match for a Mermaid riffs on the traditional princess-seeks-suitor tale with a grand finale same-sex wedding; Anjali Tiwari, just 17 and living in Lucknow, India, gave us Forbidden, about a passionate friendship forged despite the caste system; Krista Lambert, a Texas-based LGBTQ+ ally wrote Indigo Takes Flight, a heart-breaking rhyming poem about coming out and finding acceptance from those you love; and Avital Balwit, whose short story That Thing about a sentient octopus has as much to say about how we misunderstand animals as it does about how we misrepresent humans. Our 10th writer, Jay Hulme, not new to children’s publishing, gifted us a mini-epic poem about a dragon who doesn’t belong: in his words, “a massive trans allegory” that has much to say to all of us about what it’s like to grow up feeling different - and to be perceived as a monster.

But none of these stories would be the stories they are without the illustrations that bring them so stunningly to life. Some of our greatest illustrators can be found in these books: Chris Riddell’s symbiotic dragon representing a boy struggling with his sexuality in Indigo Takes Flight; Jane Ray’s magically bright birds dancing across the pages of Swallow’s Kiss; David Roberts’ gloriously queer world-building in A Match for a Mermaid; the dazzling octopi amidst the watercolour washes by Alexis Deacon in That Thing.

10 Stories also helps launch some of the brightest new stars into the world of children’s books: Jamie Beard’s background in LGBTQ+ community illustration brings colour to the darkness of Victorian London in Mistaken for a Bear; Danica Da Silva Pereira’s three-colour illustrations with a silk-screen feel enrich Forbidden; Ria Dastidar’s collaged papercut work for Magnificent! will have children everywhere mimicking her style; Sahar Haghgoo’s extravagant spreads for Here Be Monsters were inspired by Iranian miniatures; Daniel Ido’s arresting images of resistance and revolution light up Together We Win; and with In Her Element, Jacinta Read’s depictions of a character with disabilities see her moving beyond the confines of her wheelchair, through daydream and drama, giving her a movement many others might not have.

I’ve long held a dream of a first-timers press - a route into publishing for the unpublished, taking the risks that commercial publishers sometimes can’t, with the aim of helping children navigate that inner world that’s growing and changing, while making sense of the outer world which can be as cruel and bleak as it can be warm and bright. I hope that our 10 Stories does just that.

The month of February is Black History Month in the United States of America.  The month was chosen to coincide with National Freedom Day (February 1^st), the anniversary of the 13^th Amendment which saw the abolition of slavery and with the birthday of abolitionist and writer, Frederick Douglass.  The month offers an opportunity to celebrate the contributions African Americans have made to society and a point to reflect upon the continuing need and struggle for racial justice.  We are delighted to welcome Lauren Burke to the blog.  Lauren is a writer and editor from Chicago, Illinois. Her work focuses on women’s history, travel, and classic literature.  Lauren’s book It’s Her Story: Rosa Parks is a graphic novel exploring the life and achievements of Rosa Parks, courageous thinker, leader and social justice activist.  We are delighted to feature a preview on the blog exploring some of Lauren’s influences and thoughts on writing an incredibly important book which deserves a place on every bookshelf, whether in homes or libraries…


I remember learning about Rosa Parks in elementary school. It was Black History Month, and I could feel my cheeks burning in response to our lesson on Jim Crow laws and segregation. It’s not easy being one of the few students of colour in class, especially when your teacher wants to make an example of you. That day, she needed volunteers to reenact that infamous moment in 1955 when Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus to a white passenger. Her gaze was pointed when she asked who would play Rosa.

The scene was brief. No more than three minutes. The lecture following was even shorter. Our teacher explained that this simple act of defiance inspired the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which kicked off a movement to end segregation in the United States. No time for reflection or questions, we then moved on to maths. Black literature and history were not integrated into the regular curriculum. Instead, we hurdled through the key figures and moments at breakneck speed during the month of February. At school, I received a disjointed and broad view of African American history, with a focus on moments of inspiration rather than struggle. At home, I received a very different sort of education.

“They won’t tell you this in school…” is how my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles began a lot of sentences. What usually followed was an uncomfortable truth, a painful memory, or lesson. In my experience, Black history is mostly an oral history passed down in the community via elders. Once, at a National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) event, my father instructed me to pay close attention to a speaker who began their talk by saying, “They won’t tell you this in school, but Rosa Parks was a radical.”


Twelve years before arrest, Rosa Parks became the Montgomery branch secretary of the NAACP. Amongst many other things, Parks was in charge of documenting and investigating acts of violence committed against Black women. She painstakingly collected statements and evidence to put pressure on law enforcement, who in turn, dismissed her. Parks campaigned for anti-lynching laws, and created the NAACP Youth Council, which she ran out of her own home.  She was also the Stacey Abrams of her day. Parks was passionate about battling voter suppression and ran multiple campaigns to register as many new voters as possible. The hours were long and unpaid. She worked nights and weekends, received death threats, and saw very little success. Rosa Parks had many low moments, she was often discouraged and overwhelmed. And yet, she persisted.

Two years ago, I began writing a graphic novel for children about the life of Rosa Parks. At first, I struggled. It was a daunting task to reduce a life to 44 pages. For every line you write, there are 10,000 left unsaid. To tell the story of Rosa Parks, you have to tell the story of America’s dark and complex relationship with racial inequality and that story is bigger than one book. It’s larger than one lesson plan. And it deserves more than one month. Early on, I decided that It’s Her Story: Rosa Parks would celebrate a lifetime of activism verses a single moment. And that we would depict late nights, setbacks, and moments of doubt so that children like my daughter learn that while change is possible, it doesn’t happen overnight. You have to put in the work.

On inauguration day, I found myself thinking about Rosa Parks while Amanda Gorman recited her poem The Hill We Climb. I was particularly moved by the line, “Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.” For me, it serves as a reminder that we are not honoring the legacy of people like Rosa Parks, unless we step in to finish what they started. I sincerely hope that it means the same for President Biden, who had a bust of Rosa Parks placed in his office on his first day of work.

The book is illustrated by Shane Clester and publishes with Sunbird Books on 7 May 2021.  For further information visit www.sunbirdkidsbooks.com   ISBN 978-1-5037-5294-8

A big thank you to Lauren Burke for the blog piece and to Sunbird Books and Nicky Potter for the opportunity.

We are delighted to welcome Onjali Q Rauf to the blog to celebrate the publication of her new novel The Night Bus Hero and to discuss her writing.  Onjali has won the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, a Blue Peter Book Award and many more, she was selected as one of the World Book Day £1 book titles this year.  Onjali’s books have quickly become renowned for trademark blend of humour and the understated ways in which they broach complex social themes.

Please can you introduce yourself?

Hi, my name is Onjali Rauf, and I’m a women’s and refugees rights activist, as well as (by some wonderful miracle), a children’s author. My first two books, The Boy at the Back of the Class, and The Star Outside My Window hit on issues very close to my heart - the refugee crisis currently unfolding in the world; and tackling all forms of domestic violence actioned against women and children. But at their heart, they are also adventure stories and feature characters based on people I know and love in the real world, and want others to know and love too. I love reading journey-based books and meeting phenomenal people through them, so as a writer, I guess I’m naturally inclined to wanting to go on an adventure too.

Congratulations on the publication of The Night Bus Hero please could you tell us about it and about Hector its slightly unlikely hero?

Thank you so much. The Night Bus Hero is really a story of a bully - Hector, and his encountering of a homeless man named Thomas, who lives in the local park. It’s not a nice encounter - and leads to all kinds of mischief and revelations, whilst across London, at the exact same time, lots of important pieces of public art are being stolen by seemingly invisible thieves. The blame for those thefts are being placed on the homeless communities - which is where Hector and Thomas come in… IF they can stop hating each other long enough that is. They’re an unlikely pair of possible heroes, but you have to read the book to find out if they actually turn that possibility into a reality!

The Night Bus Hero continues your tradition of really shining a light on the underdog or the outsider exploring the story and motivations behind bullies and the homeless.  How important is it that young minds are exposed to these stories?

I think young minds are exposed to underdog and outsider stories through pretty much all the stories that have been written from them, past and present - and even the most fantastical stories explore real issues of loss, death, trauma, bullying, loneliness and injustice. Whether that’s our fairy tales or Harry Potter or Paddington Bear. The Night Bus Hero is no different in that respect and is following that time-honoured tradition of presenting issues children are already acutely aware of and constantly exposed to, through a new story. It’s not the exposing that’s just important - the gifting of a safe space and opportunity to explore those issues and get discussions going is crucial. So I’m hoping the story will help create just that.

Your first book, The Boy at the Back of the Class was incredibly successful winning both the Waterstones Children Book Prize and the Blue Peter Book Award.  The book itself was based around some of the work you do with refugees, can you tell us more about this?

Absolutely… I have been heading out to help frontline refugee aid teams in Calais and Dunkirk in my spare time since 2015, and have had the huge honour of meeting hundreds of not only refugee families and children trying their best to survive in dire situations, but heart-stoppingly wonderful volunteers who give their hearts and lives over to aiding those that are being ignored by our world leaders. The Boy at the Back of the Class is dedicated to a baby I met in 2016 named Raehan, and I am so proud to say that the book and my attempts to help are now linked forever (a percentage of all royalties from the books now go into O’s Refugee Aid Team), and will hopefully go on helping other babies like Raehan and their families not just in France, but in Greece too. I never went out to the refugee camps thinking I would write a story about it one day, but I am deeply thankful that Baby Raehan inspired me to do so.

You explore often quite sophisticated and emotionally challenging subjects are there any considerations you have to make when framing these for young people?

Yes, absolutely. My editor, Lena McCauley is brilliant at pulling me back from story pathways that might be just a little ‘too much’ for young hearts to take, and making sure that we lighten some of the darker, sadder moments of a story, with a little humour or explanation. So the stories are always carefully read and proofread time and time again, to ensure nothing is too overwhelmingly painful, even when the issue being discussed, has the potential to be.

Your work has been selected for the Empathy Reads list, what roles do you think books and stories are able to play in helping to engender more empathic understanding?

An eternal one. Stories - no matter what form, be it in film form, or in Manga form, or in poetry and song form, are the most powerful stimulations we can possess, create or encounter, in helping all of us break out of our own bubbles, and think about the world or an issue from a different perspective. Right now, we’re seeing the wider repercussions of what happens when stories are eradicated, ignored, hidden away or changed to fit an agenda, and the glaring voids of empathy this creates. So stories are the best, most brilliant tools to widen worlds, and help people be brave enough to deeply understand - and respect -  someone else’s lived experience in the world.

The Day We Met the Queen was one of the World Book Day titles this year, how did it feel to be one of this year's authors and how easy was it returning to the world of Ahmet and friends?

I lived for World Book Day at school - and many a voucher was ‘bought’ with the contents of my lunchbox! It was surreal to be asked to contribute a story, and even more so to see the picture of the cover on a McDonalds Happy Meal box! It was an honour to be a part of it, and writing the story was a joy. I didn’t realise how much I had missed Ahmet and his best buddies until I began writing it, and the joy of it made it a much easier affair than I thought it would be.

Can you let us know what is next for you?

Sleep, lots of chai, and trying to keep up with all my brilliant teams… Oh! And moving onto book baby four of course!