When I started drawing Mr Theophilus for the recently featured short story Jethro’s Ace of Hearts by Sam Enthoven, I soon found myself in trouble. How should I depict him? I wanted to do justice to this wonderful character, but found that as soon as I drew his face – well, it just wasn’t right. After much huffing and puffing it seemed a good idea to let Sam’s story do the talking, whilst I concentrate on the atmosphere. (Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it).

Actually, I must tell you, Sam and I did correspond about this very point. I expressed my concerns and he came back to me with this brilliant description:

“His eyes should have some kind of gleeful gleam. He’s fuelled by a high-octane mixture of human hearts and self belief!”

Couldn’t have put it better myself. No, really, I couldn’t!

Anyway, I settled upon a semi-silhouette treatment, completed the drawings and had a good time along the way. And then, a few days later, during a phone call, I picked up a pen and doodled this. It’s about as close as I reckon I could get – and I wasn’t really thinking at the time. Funny how Mr Theophilus can get under your skin. (Sam’s stories have a habit of doing that – have you noticed? Don’t get me started on his new book Crawlers. Good grief! How does he sleep at night? More on that soon).

Anyway, I quite like this drawing, but I’m glad I completed the drawings the way they now appear. So, for your interest only, I thought I’d share this with you.

Thanks again to Sam for letting me dribble ink all over his story. It was a great pleasure getting to know Mr Theophilus, although I’m not sure I’d like to bump into him outside a kebab shop any time soon. (Actually, um…ever).

Check this out…

Residents in the village of Westbury-sub-Mendip in Somerset were so distraught at losing their library and ‘phone box in quick succession, that they bought the latter from BT for £1, and turned it into the former.

Yes, that’s a ‘phone box library right there – with 100 books waiting to be borrowed (so long as you drop a book off in return, that is).  A triumph for local people power over the current trend of library closures.

Read the full story here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/somerset/8385313.stm

And it’s all my fault!  I’d snuck out of the cave to attend the UK final of the Kid’s Lit Quiz in the prestigious Oxford Town Hall. 

Oxford Town Hall - KLQ UK Final

I was particularly interested to go, as it was not only a chance to catch up with some of the 31 other authors attending (and to meet some of those I’d not met before) but also a chance to meet the comic genius who is Harry Enfield.  Unfortunately the monsters caught up with me just as I was in conversation with Harry, and the beast that has currently taken up residence on the face of fellow author, Philip Ardagh, chose that moment to attack us both! 

It was something of a hairy moment, but razor sharp as ever, Harry turned and bearded the beast.  With a yell of  ‘Must dash!’ he escaped by a whisker. 

I, on the other hand, didn’t!  I did manage to evade being dragged back to the cave long enough to see the marvellous team of boys from Wheatley Park School win the competition.  It was an outstanding performance, as there were some excellent teams competing and any one of three teams could have won right to the final question.  Talk about nail-biting finish! I wish them all the very best for the World Final next summer, which will be held up in Edinburgh.

So, Borders in the UK has finally gone into administration.

I’ve been horrified to watch this train wreck happen over the last week or so – especially the uncertainty of the past few days.  As an author, Borders has always been ‘my store’; incredibly supportive of my books and supremely welcoming whenever I’ve come in store to run events.  It’s almost been like having a nationwide chain of caring, book-loving independents wherever you go.

I can quite honestly say I haven’t met an unhelpful, unfriendly bookseller in any of the branches.  Everyone at Borders knows their stuff, and does their best to get people reading what’s right for them as well as try to get them into something new.  Trust me – that doesn’t happen with every chain, or even every bookshop.

I’ve made some good friends in branches across the north east and north west (Gateshead, Silverlink and Stockton to name but three), and those of us at Trapped By Monsters would like to wish them – and everyone at every branch – the very best for the future.

Tommy

Take a look at this stunning stop-motion ad from the New Zealand Book Council…

JETHRO’S ACE OF HEARTS

a thirteen-part story, EXCLUSIVE to Trapped By Monsters

story (c) Sam Enthoven / illustrations (c) David Melling, 2009. All rights reserved.

(Click here for previous slices: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10 ; 11)

-Twelfth Slice-

Jethro began to tremble.

‘What d’you say? Eh? The main course is going to be much too rich for just the two of us, and really, we’d be delighted – ?’

‘No,’ said Jethro, very quietly.

‘What was that?’

‘No.’

Mr Theophilus’ face fell.

‘I want you to let me up,’ said Jethro, his voice quivering but deadly in its sincerity, ‘and let me go home.’

They looked at each other for a moment.

‘Now, please.’

Obediently Mr Theophilus pressed the switch under the operating table. With a soft whine Jethro was tilted to an upright position. The hospital gown dropped to the floor, revealing that even the patient’s beloved T-shirt had, also, been replaced after the operation. In a last gesture of helpfulness Mr Theophilus reached for Jethro’s armpit to help him disconnect himself from the pump. Jethro shrugged off the proffered hand, shuddering.

‘I’m really very sorry you refuse my hospitality in this way,’ said  Mr Theophilus, hurt. ‘My offer was kindly meant.’

‘Whatever,’ said Jethro, holding his armpit as he stood up. ‘Just tell me the way out, please.’

‘Nothing simpler. Go straight out that door, and keep going as far as the stairs. At the bottom of them you’ll find the rest of your life. And go easy on the kebabs from now on! They’re bad for the mechanism!’

But the door had swung shut. Jethro was gone.

-Thirteenth and Final Slice-

That was when I came in. I’d been watching on the monitor in the dining-room, to find out how many places to lay for dinner. Divining that Mr Theophilus might need cheering up, I pushed the swinging door and popped out into the operating theatre.

‘Don’t be sad, Mr Theophilus,’ I said brightly, doing my best. ‘Worse things happen at sea!’

All he did was look at me. I think he looked the saddest I’ve ever seen him.

‘I just can’t understand it,’ he murmured. ‘The most beautiful heart we’ve ever come across. The quintessence, the very peak of gastronomic experience to follow. And I tried my hardest.’ He lifted a heavy hand to his waxy white brow before continuing. ‘I really thought, that time, that we had a good chance. You know? That we would actually… persuade someone.’

I felt for him then, I truly did. By this point we’d been dining by ourselves for more than two hundred years, and heaven knows how long Mr Theophilus had been alone before he and I met. At that moment, disappointment threatened to overwhelm us both.

There was nothing to say. Except, of course,

‘All the more for us then, eh?‘

He brightened immediately.

‘By Jove you’re right, Sam. That’s the spirit!’ He stood up smoothly, slipped his velvet jacket back on and straightened his cravat. Then, arm in arm, we strolled out into the dining-room.

And Jethro’s heart? Perfection, though I say this not without a measure of personal regret. My fondest memory should (my own pride dictates it) relate to an organ of a “home grown” nature. Writing this, my hand slows suddenly to a halt, and I must reach for the compressed air once more before its progress across the page can continue. But truly: culinary perfection was what we achieved, with Jethro’s Ace of Hearts.

Sam says: A huge thank you to David for gracing my story with his gorgeous illustrations.

It’s time to reveal the cover of my new book, CRAWLERS, which is due to be published this April 2010

I’m very excited! Hee hee hee!

-Sam

…and a gleefully monstrous Thursday to everyone else

This post is a warning. Prepare yourself for a final, climactic, gut-busting double helping of JETHRO’S ACE OF HEARTS, to be served right here at TBM slightly earlier than previously advertised – tomorrow, Friday 27th Nov 2009, at 0900 GMT.

Thanks to atomicshark and Joystiq for the charming image above.

This amused me no end, and since it’s packed full of muppety monsters, it seemed appropriate to stick it up. That said, I hope it doesn’t give the monsters in here any ideas – the last thing I want is to be subjected to their singing.

JETHRO’S ACE OF HEARTS

a thirteen-part story, EXCLUSIVE to Trapped By Monsters

story (c) Sam Enthoven / illustrations (c) David Melling, 2009. All rights reserved.

(Click here for previous slices: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10)

-Eleventh Slice-

There was a pause.

‘It’s, ah, a little difficult to explain…’

‘Try me,’ said Jethro, firmly.

‘Hmm,’ said Mr Theophilus. ‘It’s rather hush-hush, actually. If I were to say that it’s an invention of my own, involving clockwork and compressed air, could we leave it at that? Microhydraulics. Very advanced. Very complicated. There now, I think I’ve said enough.’

‘And… how long will it last?’ asked Jethro, a grating note of desperation entering his voice.

‘Well, the main thing is to keep your air pressure steady. You’ve a valve under your right armpit: if you top yourself up whenever you feel a bit flat, then as long as you don’t tamper with the replacement heart there’s no reason why it shouldn’t last just as long as the rest of you does.’

‘But why didn’t you just kill me?‘ Jethro wailed.

‘My dear chap!’ said Mr Theophilus, astonished. ‘What a suggestion! In fact, that’s the very point where myself and your “serial killers” part company. While it’s true, to my eternal regret, that the operation has killed a number of guests of mine in the past, I assure you that was all before I perfected my system. No, dear boy, I don’t want to kill you. In fact…’

Mr Theophilus smiled his most dazzling smile.

‘I was rather hoping you might join my colleague and I for a spot of dinner.’

-Click here for final double helping: Slices Twelve and Thirteen-