We are delighted to welcome multi award-winning illustrator and author David Roberts to the blog to answer questions on his exciting and highly informative new book, We are your Children: A History of LGBTQ+ Activism.  Questions have been posed by students at Ullswater Community College.

Were recent international and national political attacks on the queer community a motivation to write this book or is it just a coincidence that it is publishing at a time where it is more relevant that ever?

No, the timing of the book is coincidental with current events.

The book was planned back in 2018, with my motivation being to make a book that highlighted the stories of previous generations of LGBTQ+ people who fought for their own (and subsequently our) rights to live freely as queer people. I wanted to show that by their actions, and often simply by being visible in their communities, they gradually created a culture of greater acceptance and respect towards queer people where previously there had been suspicion, fear and prejudice.

Do you have a favourite LGBTQ+ power moment?

Gosh, that would be so hard to choose! I am particularly interested in the Radical Effeminists of the 1970s. As a gay boy who was always questioning `what I saw as the ridiculous restrictions around gender expression and expectations, I have been fascinated by their ideas. They were focused on smashing these gender stereotypes and working towards complete liberation from them, for everyone.

They wanted to establish a completely different way of being a man and expressing masculinity. Radical ideas back then – and still now it would seem! 

Whilst researching the book, what was the most inspiring story or advice you came across that you wanted to share with queer readers and their allies?

I don’t think I could single out one story in particular, but collectively I found the resilience of people and their determination to not be brushed aside, overlooked or disregarded very powerful. They knew they were right and they cared enough to show up and speak out to challenge discrimination. They may not have seen themselves as revolutionary, and they must have felt exhausted and perhaps even hopeless at times, but they kept going – and their actions did change attitudes towards LGBTQ+ people in a positive way. That’s very inspiring.

Do your experiences as a fashion designer influence your work? Is it clothes you still enjoy illustrating most?

YES! Thank you so much for that question , I love it! 

My love of clothing and style and how we dress ourselves has been a major influence on my work as an illustrator. With every new character I encounter I’m always asking myself – who are they? What’s their style? How will their style inform their personality? I see individual style as a form of storytelling in itself; perhaps we are expressing ourselves in ways we can’t with words. Or perhaps we are hiding ourselves and our true identity. So I would say it’s not only clothes I love to draw, but the personality that is wearing them.

What are the best things about being an author and illustrator?

As an illustrator of other people’s stories, it’s such a privilege and an adventure stepping into someone else’s imagination. Often when I read a text for the first time it fills my mind with images and possibilities! I may be taken to places in my own imagination that I would never have thought possible. It may challenge me to think about what story is being told – both through the images and the words, and is it the same story? What else can the image bring to the reader that’s not being said in the text? Oh and being able to listen to the radio while working is fabulous too. I’ve always loved radio ever since I was little. The working life of an illustrator is rather solitary so the radio is a bit like a work colleague. 

Are there any things about being an author and illustrator that you don’t like?

Good question! I think it’s hard sometimes to accept your limitations and embrace the challenges of working within them to create the best work you can.

I think also as I get older, focus (or should I say a lack of focus) is becoming a real problem! Oh, and some days I just don’t want to draw! 

Do you have any tips for aspiring authors and illustrators?

Composition is everything! 

Do you prefer writing or illustrating?

I think illustrating feels more natural to me. I like the language of illustration and the way a story can be told just with pictures. I think I might have developed a stronger sense of visual language because I have dyslexia, which when I was a child was not picked up on, so I was left to struggle with reading and writing and eventually drifted away from that form of communication sadly.

It’s been a bit of a revelation for me working on information books, as I have found the process of writing really satisfying, so perhaps I will try more.

What is your working style? Do you plan everything in lots of detail or go with the flow? Where do you prefer to work?

That’s a good question! I’m a planner; I plan every picture in great detail. I’m obsessed with composition so I’m always looking for an interesting way for the image to sit on the page. What gets seen and what is suggested? I love planning how the viewer’s eye will travel through the image and how that might help to enhance the storytelling, atmosphere and emotional impact of an image. I work from a studio space at home but will often travel with work, so really I can work anywhere as long as I have my easel, light box, daylight lamp, radio and magnifier (my eyesight is not what it used to be!).

I also am never without a note book.

We liked that the stories in the book are told in the first person, it really feels like those individuals are speaking directly to us. How did you research and collect their stories?

Thank you, that’s a lovely compliment. Where I could, I interviewed people.

It would have been wonderful to speak directly with all the people I was writing about, but unfortunately that wasn’t always possible. So for many of the stories I made sure I gathered as much information as possible.

Watching documentaries or listening to podcasts or radio interviews to hear the person speak about their experiences was a huge help in finding a way of telling their story. Finding news footage on YouTube was also amazing in helping me see events unfold and get a sense of the atmosphere around them. Newspaper stories and interviews were also really helpful, as they can capture the tone of how society was reacting and representing these events.

It became sort of journalistic as I wanted to re-tell stories without bringing too much of my own opinions or voice to the text. 

Given recent hostilities to the queer community and the increase in book bannings, we think that you publishing this book right now is a huge act of rebellion.  Is it intimidating and scary to put your head above the parapet though?

Yes, because many queer people of my generation are unable to fully shake off the shame about ourselves that was projected onto us by the homophobia we grew up dealing with. Even if we felt perfectly comfortable with our sexuality, society was telling us it was wrong, unnatural and shameful. It’s hard not to absorb some of that and carry it with you through life. It’s why we often say as gay people we are constantly coming out. (Not that I was ever in!).

There were no books like this one in my school or local library that I could access growing up, which only contributed to feelings of confusion and isolation as a young gay teen. We have come so far in terms of publishing with LGBTQ+ themes and characters in an encouraging variety of kids’ books from baby board books to young adult fiction.

So I’m particularly saddened and angry when I hear that these books are being removed from school or local libraries, putting young people in the same situation I was in at age 15, 40 years ago. 

I think because older queer people have experienced rampant homophobia and seen how far we have come over time, when we see these hostilities resurface – particularly now for trans people – it makes us even more determined not to go backwards. I think it’s important that we all know the stories of the generations who came before us and took action against the prejudice and discrimination they faced, to recognise when it is happening again. As the saying goes, ‘knowledge is power’.

We were excited by the big bibliography at the end of the book, what are the 3 books or websites you suggest we look at first to continue our queer education?

Making Gay History is a podcast where we can listen to interviews with many of the key figures in our queer history and culture. Many of the people interviewed are no longer with us so it’s an extremely important and valuable resource. 

No Bath But Plenty of Bubbles: An Oral History of the Gay Liberation Front 1970–73  by Lisa Power published by Cassell (but sadly now out of print). You can find used copies but they are very expensive. It’s a fascinating account of the British Gay Liberation Front, using interviews with its members to capture an insight into what life was like for queer people in the early 70s. The blurb on the back of the book states “The Gay Liberation Front dragged homosexuality out of the closet, onto the streets and into the public eye!” 

May I suggest a documentary? The Rebel Dykes directed by Harri Shanahan and Sîan Williams. This film is described as “a brilliant and refreshing story of post-punk Dyke culture told by those who lived it”. It is available on YouTube, and it’s such an important and valuable resource, especially because so much of lesbian culture was not seen. Even within the queer community, lesbian voices were not always heard. 

We Are Your Children is written and produced in the same style as Suffragettes: Battle for Equality – are there any other communities you would like to create a book about?

Ooh that’s a very good question! There is actually one that I would love to research and make a book about, and that’s the conscientious objectors from World War One. Or perhaps conscientious objectors of any war. I know only a tiny little bit about them, because in my family it’s believed that my great grandfather was one. I believe there were about 16,000 in the First World War who objected to being drafted, or refused to fight in armed combat for loads of different reasons. 

They were seen as social pariahs, ostracised and denigrated by society, portrayed as ‘cowards’ and ‘shirkers’. The rigid expectations of masculinity often highlight how men are taught to think but not feel, and in times of war, to step up and follow orders. So when faced with all that, their strength in staying true to their beliefs really inspires and intrigues me. I would love to find out more about them.

A big thank you to David Roberts for the interview, to students at Ullswater College for the brilliant questions and to Macmillan Children's Books for the opportunity.

We are delighted to welcome Nansubuga Isdahl and Nicole Miles, author and illustrator of First Names: Nelson Mandela published by David Fickling Books to the blog to talk about the book, Nelson Mandela and their work and research!

1) Please can you introduce yourselves and tell us a little about your background and interests in children’s books?

Nansubuga Isdahl, author: Thanks! I’m Nansu. In short, I was born in the US and am of Ugandan heritage. My family and I currently live in Tanzania, but I’m typing this from Florida (US), where we’ve been taking cover for the past year. I write for international NGOs and UN agencies during the day, and I work on children’s books by night. I’ve always loved books, but became particularly interested in children’s books when I had my daughter and realized that the range of voices telling stories was severely limited and the industry was skewed towards certain perspectives.

Nicole Miles, illustrator: My name is Nicole and I’m from The Bahamas. I came to the UK for university and lived here since then. I find it difficult to explain my interest in children’s books because it’s so hard to imagine why anyone wouldn’t love children’s books! Haha I actually find the category to just be really engaging and accessible and there is a sincerity in kids’ books that can often get replaced by a cooler cynicism in books for older readers and, although that’s sometimes what I’m in the mood for, that sincerity in books for younger readers is just really lovely to me.

(2) How did the commission come about?

NI: My agent brought it to me after DFB had seen a travel series manuscript of mine. I had a call with the editor and they introduced the series. Serendipitously, I had been living in South Africa for years and the opportunity to write about Nelson Mandela fit perfectly with my interests.

NM:This story is maybe not so exciting, but David Fickling Books contacted me and asked if I would be interested in working with them on the series and I was available and interested.

(3) What kind of research was involved in planning the book?

NI: On my end, I read widely. This included Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, The Long Walk to Freedom, and other texts. I also did extensive on-line research, watched many movies, listened to the freedom songs from that time period, etc. I had already visited the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, so felt I had a grasp of that. Also, simply by living in Johannesburg, I was afforded a considerable amount of perspective about Nelson Mandela because his legacy is reflected throughout the city.

NM: On my part, there was a lot of visual research and, because photos of Black South Africans and their living and working spaces and so on at that time are likely very rare, there was a fair bit of sleuthing involved too. For anyone mentioned in the book I obviously would have to look up as many photos of them as I could find to draw them, but if Nelson is ever driving a car, for example, and the make and model are not named, I was looking up which cars of the time were popular and accessible, whether he would have had the newest model or a car that had been in circulation for a few years, which side of the road they drive on in South Africa and which side is the steering wheel on, and so on. I looked up police uniforms versus other official authorities’ uniforms and the political parties’ flags but made sure I got the emblems from the right era, and what kinds of casual clothing Nelson would have worn at university when he wasn’t in traditional dress or a suit. Basically a lot of time was spent searching online historical photo archives!

(4) What did you learn about Nelson Mandela that you didn’t previously know?

NI: I didn’t know that he had such a tremendous sense of humour. He was very charming, it seems, and I think his sense of humour was part of that charm.

NM:Maybe I should be embarrassed to admit it but, prior to reading Nansu’s manuscript, for me it was as though Nelson Mandela’s life started in middle age when he was sent to Robben Island in 1964, then there was another big gap in my knowledge spanning 27 years, after which he simply existed as a hero because of some vague ideas about fighting apartheid here and there. I respected him before coming to this book and understood that he was an important person, but it is truly an understatement to say I learned a lot working on this project.

5. How important do you feel biographies are for children and young people, and what can we learn from them?
   
   NI: I think biographies, especially those about people who are lesser known or who live in different parts of the world, are particularly important. Historical texts, including biographies, shape how we view the past and the present. I think biographies can help expand young people’s worldview and hopefully allow them to realize that not everything we’re taught reflects the totality of an experience or event. Rather, what we're taught often reflects an interpretation or one side of a story. I think it’s very important for children to learn that distinction early and to gain those critical analysis skills. Biographies are a great way to do this. Biographies can also put a personal face to historical events, which I think makes them far more engaging for children. Learning about apartheid in history class is one thing. Learning about it from Nelson’s life, and the impact it had on him and the people around him, adds a richness that is invaluable. It also helps children to develop empathy – another critically important life skill.
    

   NM:I am not someone who is disinterested in history or global civil rights movements and yet here was a huge oversight on my part about a man who made big waves globally and was the face of a massive movement. I imagine many people, especially anyone (like me) who was too young to have been aware of the events surrounding Mandela as “current affairs” as it was all unfolding, are similarly ignorant (or even less aware) than I was about him (and others in the movement who are also mentioned in the book). That ignorance is an important thing to correct because, as the saying goes “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” and a past with so much avoidable cruelty and discrimination and pain for so many people would be a horrible thing to senselessly repeat. Biographies for young people are not simply a warning though. Historical biographies can serve as a source of inspiration to children to see that, even with so much against you, it is possible to overcome and that is not just pretty words; it happens. People do great things and overcome great difficulty. I think that’s important.

    

   
   (6) It feels as though schooling was a very important point in Nelson Mandela’s life, how formative do you think being educated in a British-style school was for him and what changes did he have to make because of this?
   
   NI: I think Nelson’s formal education helped to widen his perspective about the world. It also gave him access to jobs (i.e., being a lawyer) that would have been unlikely otherwise. I think given that he was a country boy, as he put it, he certainly had to acclimate to a more formal environment during his schooling. He also learned through his formal education that what was being taught in school differed greatly from what he was learning at home (e.g., about South African history). That tension was formative in helping develop his views about equality and justice.  So, Nelson essentially gained the skill of living in two worlds--the Western one through his schooling and the South African one. His ability to “cross over” worlds, if you will, was critically important in building bridges when he came President.

    

   NM: This is a fantastic and complex question. My understanding is that, while it benefitted him and made certain opportunities available to him that may not have been otherwise, the colonial school system also took from him his culture, his history and even his name — one could fairly say much of his sense of identity… There’s a part in the book where this confusion is expressed as he compares what he is learning in formal lessons with what he is learning from elders in his village. It’s interesting because, as someone who grew up and was educated in an ex-British colony (The Bahamas), I found this particularly interesting. It speaks a lot to colonisation and whether the benefits outweigh the many damages and how those subjected to the system can use it to their advantage (and, I would hope, to help those who didn’t benefit from it as Nelson did). When talking about the ills of colonisation, there is often a knee-jerk reaction from descendants of colonisers (and the pro-establishment colonised) that the meagre benefits (roads, education, etc.) were worth it in exchange for subjugation and being second-class citizens. I personally disagree, but I don’t think it’s a topic around which anyone need feel defensive. It will always be of huge benefit to be able to conform to the established norms (whether those established norms set by colonial powers, class expectations, gender expectations, etc), but I think it’s vital that people keep hold of who they are as well because no one story is more valid than another. I guess that’s what “code-switching” is essentially.
   
   (7)  How easy was it showing the growth and maturation of Nelson through the book?
   
   NI: I was working from an outline that I had developed before I started writing and so once I charted the decisive moments at each stage of his life, this became easier.
   
   NM: I think around middle age was the trickiest and I started to sneak a little greying in his hair to show that but I didn’t want him to read as being suddenly quite a lot older, especially since elderly-Nelson was narrating the book and that might get confusing towards the end. It was very helpful having my Art Director Katie pointing to when he needed to be older or younger in certain illustrations.
   
   (8)  Did you use any photos or source materials as background for characters and indeed for the village of Qunu and the Xhosa people?
   
   NI: I’m quite sure that Nicole did as I remember sending through some images that I thought might help.
   
   NM: Definitely! As many photos as I could find haha! In some instances, it was just hard to find examples that seemed to match up to time, place and description, but I was always looking up images before I started sketching anything.
   
   (9) The book could easily feel very serious but the illustrations play a wonderful role in infusing warmth and humour, how did the collaboration work?
   
   NI: Working with Nicole (via the series editor) was lovely. I’m not sure how many rounds of the illustrations she did before they got to me, but the editor would send through roughs and final versions at various stages and I could provide my feedback or comments, based on what I understood of the context and Nelson’s life. I felt very fortunate to have been able to contribute in some small way to Nicole’s really brilliant interpretation of the book.
   
   NM: When I first started the project I was initially a little nervous that it needed to be serious, almost a little distant in tone. So, even though I probably enjoy being playful and humorous in my work more often, when I submitted my first samples they were all pretty stiff and serious. The feedback was that the team wasn’t keen on that direction and actually wanted the lighter tone that I preferred. After a conversation with Katie to talk things over and her pointing to some things in my portfolio that she felt had a closer tone to the one they were going for, I was much clearer on (and happier with) the direction and sent over a sample that employed more of the humour you see in the book now. I was very relieved that we were actually on the same page. I feel it’s much more engaging than a more classically “educational” approach would be, without being disrespectful where a more sombre tone is required.

   
   
   (10)  What is next for you both?
   
   NI: I’m currently working on (writing, drafting, brainstorming) more middle grade novels than anyone should be at one time!
   
   NM: I’ve got a few books coming out this year including Walking for Waterby Susan Hughes which is based on the true story of a little boy in Malawi who realises the world is quite different for him and his twin sister and that is coming out 1 June. Then in autumn of this year the first book in Joel Ross’ funny Alley & Rex middle grade series is coming out. I’m illustrating Viviane Elbee’s I Want My Book Back about a dinosaur-obsessed kid who wants his library book about dinosaurs back, which is out in spring 2022. Then autumn of that year sees Groundhog Gets It Wrong hitting shelves.

   
   It’s a real joy for me to be able to work on so many great book projects and I’ve got a few exciting non-publishing projects popping up this year too. My Instagram is probably the best place to keep up with what I’m up to.

A big thank you to Nansubuga and Nicole for the interview and to David Fickling Books for the opportunity.

We are tremendously excited to welcome Thomas Harding to the blog for an interview.  Thomas is an author and journalist.  He co-funded a television station in Oxford and has worked for many years as an award-winning documentary maker.  Thomas is the author of Hanns and Rudolf, a Sunday Times bestseller and winner of the JQ-Wingate Prize.  His book, The House by the Lake a Costa Biography Award shortlistee has been adapted by him into a truly remarkable picture book showing how homes and lives span generations and the politics of their time.  The book is powerfully illustrated by Britta Teckentrup.  Do take a look at the gallery of images which Thomas has kindly shared with us.

Can you introduce yourself a little please?

As a young boy, I loved pictures books. I still have many of my favourites on my shelves. Later, as a teenager, I spent a short time working in a children’s bookshop, and it was then that I understood the diversity of picture books. When I had my own kids, I adored reading to them every night. Safe to say, I have always wanted to write my own picture book.

I have been a journalist for more than 30 years. I have written for various newspapers including the Guardian, FT, The Times and Washington Post. I have made documentaries and ran a TV station with my wife, Debora.

In 2006, my great uncle Hanns Alexander died. I knew him well, he was the person in the family who carried out pranks, who told us children dirty jokes. I knew that he and his family (including my grandmother Elsie) had fled Nazi Germany in 1936; they were Jewish. At Hanns’ funeral a eulogy was given which reported that he had tracked down and captured the Kommandant of Auschwitz. This shocked me. I had never heard this story before. How was it possible that nobody had told me? This got me going on an 8-year journey to find out the truth and resulted in my first book, Hanns and Rudolf. Ever since, I have worked as a full-time author.


The story of the house by the lake is an extraordinary one, not least because it makes us think about what a home is and means, can you tell us a bit about how you came to write it?

When I was young, my grandmother Elsie — we called her ‘Granny’ — told us about her family’s weekend lake house just outside of Berlin. She called it her ‘soul place’. Granny was a larger-than-life character, thick German accent, shock of white hair, bright red lipstick, a cigarette always on her lip. When she turned 80, she took me and my cousins back to the city of her birth. She showed us her family’s apartment in the city centre. It had been bombed during the war and was now a high-end suitcase store. She took us to the school near the Grunewald Forest where she had learnt to speak English. And then she took us out to the lake house, thirty minutes’ drive out of Berlin and to the West.

When we arrived at the lake house I was struck by how small it was. A one-level wooden structure, perhaps 9m wide and 10m long. But it had a fabulous position, overlooking the Gross Glienicke Lake. A we walked down the sandy path we were met by a tall man with a fluffy hat who asked us what we wanted. Later we would learn his name was Wolfgang Kuhne.

Granny explained that she had lived at the house in the 1920s and 1930s. Suddenly, his mood changed. ‘Come in’, he said, ‘come in!’  We then toured the house, with Herr Kuhne showing off all his improvements and my grandmother pointing out that her parents lived in this bedroom and she in that bedroom. It was a lovely, warm encounter. But it was also deeply emotional. After all, this was the last physical trace of the family in Germany. Granny was clearly pleased, however, that even though the house was no longer hers, someone was living there, taking care of it.

Twenty years later, when I was researching my book Hanns and Rudolf, I heard from a resident in the village that the house was in bad shape. I needed to come take a look. So, I hopped on a plane — easier in those days — and a few hours later was standing in front of the lake house.

The building was now overgrown with bushes and trees. The windows were broken. Inside graffiti covered the walls, the floors were strewn with broken bottles and fragments of furniture. The back bedroom, where Granny’s parents had slept, had been used a rug den. I had that uncomfortable feeling in my stomach, when you see a child fall of a swing.

I went to the local city hall and asked what the plan was for the house. They said they would soon knock it down and then replace with new housing. How could I stop this? I asked. They said I would have to prove the house was culturally and historically important. This is what got me going on my research on the house, the 5 families who had lived there and the history it had seen. Which resulted in my writing the adult non-fiction book The House by the Lake.

At the same time, I started working with the residents of the village and involving members of my family. Together we agreed to save the house. Six years later, we had registered the lake house as national monument (a ‘Denkmal’ in Germany) and raised enough money to repair it back to its former state. The house was stunning! Its walls painted in mustard yellows and aqua blues and forest greens.

A few months after we opened the house to the public, I watched some young children as they walked around. I noticed their fascination with a hole in the wooden walls made by a bullet in 1945 when the Russian and German soldiers had fought house to house. I saw them touch the sunflower wallpaper and look out at in wonder the beautiful lake view. It was then that the question came into my head, could I tell this story for young readers? I was immediately excited. But I had never written a picture book before, I wasn’t sure how to do it.

As it happens, a few weeks later I bumped into Nicola Davies the author of many wonderful picture books. I told her I desperately wanted to write a book for younger readers about the house by the lake, but I wasn’t sure if I could do it. She turned to me and said ‘of course you can!’ and then added ‘just go for it’.

A few days later, I sat down at my desk and started the first draft. After a few more attempts and a few more after that, I sent it off to Walker Books, who to my great delight, said that they would like to publish the book. They then contacted the extraordinary German illustrator Britta Teckentrup, who agreed to join the project. Britta lives in Berlin and we immediately connected. It was the perfect partnership.


What type of research was entailed with the book?

I interviewed people in the village who remembered the house and the history it had witnessed. I spoke with my family of course, collecting letters, photographs, film and stories. I also went to various archives in Germany and the UK. The house itself held its own secrets, the fabric it was made from, the environment it was located in, the impact of history on its walls and floors.


Were you able to make contact with any of the families who have previously lived in the house?

Yes! Some were easier than others.

I spent weeks trying to find someone from the family who leased the land to my family. The Von Wollanks. As a last resort, I looked on Facebook, and found the great-grandson of Otto Von Wollank. He was an influencer in Berlin and his most recent picture was of him with Lady Gaga.

The Meisel family who lived at the house after my family were easier to track down. They still ran the same company ‘Meisel Music’ in Berlin. I met Doris Meisel, the daughter-in-law of Will Meisel, the man who lived at the house after my family. She handed me a plastic bag and said that she wanted me to have it. I thanked her and asked her what was inside. She said it was full of documents proving that her family had stolen the house from my family. ‘It’s important to me that you tell the story,’ she said ‘both the good and the bad.’

The Kuhne family still lives near the house. We met a few times and shared stories. Bernd Kuhne had grown up in the same room that my grandmother had used. I was struck by people and stories take place within the same walls, with the same views out of the window.

The Fuhrmanns also live nearby. When I visited the house with them they were overwhelmed with emotion. This is the strange thing about this small wooden house, it appears to provoke strong love and attachments with those it encounters.  


The picture book is an adaptation of your Costa-shortlisted biography, was it challenging adapting the book into such a short form?

When I started, I thought the biggest hurdle would be reduce a story that takes 120,000 words to tell in the adult version of the book to a few hundred for the picture book. I was wrong. The toughest challenge I realised was to locate the essence of the story. To ask the question: what are the characters’ key emotions and what is their narrative arc? This was more important than facts and dates. In truth, I found this tremendously helpful for my other non-fiction adult writing as well.


The book alludes to some dark points in human history, what was your approach to making these accessible for young readers?

This was the other major concern I had. How do you talk about the Nazis, the Berlin Wall, the Stasi, the bombing of Berlin and other dark events for young children?

Then I realised that children fall in love with places. They are sad when they have to leave them. They make friends with some and are bullied by others. They know what it is like to have something they love taken from them.

Most of all, almost everyone knows what it is like to have a home. Whether it is a tent, a flat, a house or a palace. A home is different from a building. A home is somewhere we make memories. A place we are attached to. Somewhere we leave and come back to. Have family celebrations. A place we retreat to our favorite spot, where we feel safe. Where we feel ‘at home’.

This is why I chose to put the little house by the lake, with its own personality and journey, at the centre of the story. I felt that perhaps that was a way for younger readers to connect.

And I hope the book will encourage young readers to think about what is their favourite spot, what is their ‘soul place’?

There are some very poignant explorations of barriers and borders, what kind of resonance do you feel exist with current geo-politics?

The Berlin Wall was an example of a society locking its citizens in, like a city-wide prison. This was a government trying to stop their people leaving. They were not trying to stop others coming in.

Though this is different from many other walls, the impact is similar. There is an ugly tall structure made by humans dividing one community from another.  Whether it be the Berlin Wall, or the wall along the Mexico/ USA border, or the so-called ‘peace wall’ in Jerusalem or the wall dividing the Catholic and Protestant areas in Belfast.

When I asked the people who lived in the house during the time of the Berlin Wall ‘what it was like?’, they said it was ‘normal’. They got used to it. This despite the Wall being less than 10m from the back door, with its watch towers, search lights, barking dogs, machine guns and ‘death strip’. It is a reminder that we humans can find a way to live in even the darkest of situations. Of course, this comes with a terrible cost, which those I spoke with were quick to explain.


What were your thoughts on Britta Teckentrup's illustrations?

I cried when I first saw the pictures. She has so perfectly captured the characters and the house and the story. The way the colours shift, the tone and movement. Granny would have loved these illustrations!

Can you tell us about how the house by the lake is used now?

The house by the lake has been renovated and tours and activates that take place at the house are managed by a German charity called ‘Alexander Haus’. It operates as a centre for education and reconciliation, welcoming tours from the public, schools and other institutions. We run workshops, training sessions and other similar activities. The house is open, when you are next in Berlin please come visit !


Would you be interested in writing anything else for the children and young people's market?

As it happens, I have written a book for young adults called Future History. I like to say it is a non-fiction history of the next thirty years. It has been published in Germany, will be released soon in France, we are currently looking for an English publisher. I would like to write other picture books. I have a couple of ideas… Let’s wait and see if the stars align…

Image Gallery

Image 1 book cover of The House by the Lake, by Thomas Harding illustrated by Britta Teckentrup

Images 2 and 3 Interior and Exterior of the house, 1927 photos copyright Lotte Jakobi

Photos 4 and 5 Interior and exterior of the house, 2013 photos copyright Thomas Harding

Photos 6, 7 and 8 Interior and Exterior of the house, 2019 photos copyright Andre Wagner

Photo 9 Photograph of Thomas Harding outside Alexander Haus, photo copyright Cristian Jungeblodt

Images 10, 11 and 12 spreads from The House by the Lake by Thomas Harding illustrated by Britta Teckentrup, published by Walker Studios 2020 

Massive thanks to Thomas Harding for so generously sharing his time, images and expertise through this interview.

We are delighted that Pete Johnson, author of multi award-winning titles like The Ghost Dog and How to Train Your Parents is joining this year's Youth Libraries Group Conference to discuss funny books.  Here he talks about some of the books that made him laugh as a child and continue to provide mirth and merriment.  Which books made you laugh as a child and do they continue to do so today?

Writing this,  I only have to look up, to see them massed across two shelves. Some are rather shabby and battered now, but they have travelled through time with me.

For these are my most treasured children’s books. The ones which cast such a spell, they made me a reader. And many of them are funny stories.

Now, if you’d come across me when I was eight or nine, I doubt if you’d have described me as fizzing with comic energy. I was a painfully shy,  fearful boy. ‘Look at people when they’re speaking to you,’ my mum would say. But I found that very hard. I was much happier mumbling away to my shoes.

This at least, was the outward me. But as soon as I could escape the tyranny of what other people called ‘real life’ I was off travelling the countryside with my irrepressible alter ego, William Brown.

One night while reading a William book I caused my parents to come tearing up the stairs. They’d heard a noise. What had happened?  It was very simple. I’d been laughing so hard at William and the Princess Goldilocks (from William the Pirate) I’d fallen out of bed. My parents were so pleased to see me smiling and free from my usual anxiety they didn’t say a word. In fact, they helped me buy all thirty eight of the Just William books by Richmal Crompton. William’s anarchic spirit called up something in me, as well as his optimism and resilience and sense of purpose.

I collected every one of the Jennings books by Anthony Buckeridge too. He was similarly bold and impetuous, never deliberately causing trouble but still leaving a hilarious trail of accidents and disasters. The moment when Jennings accidentally stuck his head in the railings, while attemping to photograph a squirrel never failed to make me fall about helplessly.

I re-read the William and Jennings stories over and over, marvelling not only at the brilliant characters but the witty dialogue and careful way they were structured. I suppose I was starting to analyse them.

 But mainly, I was a boy who, left to his own devices, could swiftly fill his head with gloomy thoughts. In fact, I could depress myself in seconds. And there was only one antidote.

 Another book which always lifted my spirits was Holiday at the Dew Drop Inn, by Eve Garnett. Here, my favourite character from the One End Street books – Kate Ruggles – spends two glorious months in the country. Now Kate was more than a bit like me – earnest, bookish, eager not to give offence. The book’s humorous tone, gently mocks Kate’s endless worrying and anxiousness and I suppose in laughing at Kate I was also beginning to laugh at myself.

Anyway, I finally started to become more confident. My secret self, so far hidden from everyone but my fictional friends began to shakily emerge. There were even moments when I’d been glimpsed looking cheerful, happy even. But then – disaster.

When I was twelve we moved away. And I was plunged into a new school, at which I felt instantly out of place. Soon a horrible cloud of misery settled over me and clung to me unceasingly every day. I’d  never felt more isolated. 

But at my lowest point help, once more, was at hand. I came across an Armada paperback. (Hands up who remembers Armada books?) called Mike and Psmith by P.G Wodehouse. The cover featured a boy in cricket whites and another reclining in a chair – wearing of all things, a monocle. It didn’t appeal to me at all. I nearly stopped there. But standing in the bookshop I read the first page. That was enough. I was hooked. I sat up half the night finishing it.

There was something to make me laugh on every page. But best of all there was the author’s beguiling voice. And long after I’d put the book down, I still had this big smile on my face. Next day I tore to the library to see what else P.G.Wodehouse had written. And there was a shelf and a half of Wodehouse treasures. So began a golden chapter in my life. Whenever I was feeling down I reached for Wodehouse or Edward Eager.

Eager is best known for Half  Magic, a wonderfully inventive and funny book about a magic coin, which makes wishes come half true! This became a favourite escape read.

Shortly afterwards, I discovered several other hardback Edward Eager books for sale at my local library – 20p each. I bought all six of them. I’ve never made a better deal. The books captivated me and especially Seven Day Magic, which has a great central idea: library books are magic. Soon  this book is taking the characters to their favourite fictional worlds.

As with Wodehouse, it was Edward Eager’s voice – wry, quizzical, often  dryly humorous – which especially delighted me. And that’s why I wrote to him c/o his publishers to say how brilliant and brilliantly funny his books were and ask what else had he written as I was extremely keen to read them. I knew he lived in America, so I expected a bit of a wait for a reply.

But, in fact, it came almost by return of post. It was from his publisher to thank me for my enthusiastic appreciation – but to tell me., Edward Eager had died back in 1963 (at the age of just 52 of lung cancer,  I later discovered) and the seven books I mentioned were the only ones he’d written.

I felt as if I’d lost a friend. And a friend who’d helped me get past the towering misfortune of having to change schools.

That’s why books which make you laugh are so special. They are the ones which reach right out to you. They go on doing that for me today. I only have to open any of these titles at random and within a very few pages I am laughing out loud. And there’s a rush of joy as they cast their spell all over again.