I spoke to some bright young things at a school in Stubbington yesterday and we got to talking about poems at one point. What can you do to polish up your poetry, we pondered? Now, I don’t claim to be a poet, but I do dabble a bit. One thing that has made me love rhyming for fun is the various silly games we used to play as a family when I was growing up – and still play in my own family now. One was changing the lyrics to well known songs. It’s something that Eddie, my hero in Dark Summer, does too. For example… here’s his alternative version of a disco classic we all know well:

First I was afraid – I was mummified

Kept feeling like I was all bandaged down my right hand side

Then I spent so many nights thinking that you look like King Kong

And I grew strong. ‘Cos that much hair on girls is wrong.

And now you’re back, from outer space;

I just walked in and found your stuffing all my cheese strings in your face.

I should have changed my stupid socks, I should have thrown you in the sea,

If I’d've known for the just one second you would scoff my Dairylea…

And so on.

It’ll brilliant fun – great for long car journeys. And it makes you work hard at your rhyming and scanning.

I know you’ve all got something like this in your heads. C’mon now! Twist those lyrics! I challenge you!

One of the lovely things about being a writer is that readers often send you stories they’ve written. I get all sorts – long, short, absurd, realistic, dark, hilarious, nonsensical, brilliant, not-s0-brilliant, emailed documents, hand-written parchments… it’s all going on. And sometimes it’s hard to know how to respond, so it’s good to have a reminder of what your priorities are when you’re a teenage writer (or younger – some of the stories I’ve been sent are from 8 and 9 year-olds).

Enough preamble. What I’m trying to say is this: I’ve been trundling through the dark, forgotten corners of my computer’s memory. Each time I get a new computer I transfer a whole bundle of old files, and some of those files are now very old indeed.

Tonight I found one which looks like it was written when I was about 16. Now, I don’t remember writing anything when I was 16, so this is a bit of a surprise. It might be that I was younger, it might be I was older and for some reason the date on the file is wrong, but never mind. I wrote it. Some-when. I was younger than I am. I was onviously just messing about, so I’m not embarrassed to put it up here for you to read. I can’t imagine there’s anywhere else for me to show it, and I’ve just chuckled (twice!) reading it for the first time in at least 12 years.

Here it is, an adolescent ramble from the mind of the young Joe Craig, entitled…

WHERE DID ALL THE RUBBER TREES GO?

“Where did all the rubber trees go?” asked Furbum. “There used to be many. They came from the sea and they came from the sky. Some came on the tube from Battersea Park, but they were always late. Now there are none. Where did they all go?”

Furbum stroked his Velcro thumb across his brow. This was not the first time an impenetrable question had troubled him for more than the time it takes to polish a Swimbot’s anarchy. It was four o’clock already, and still no tea. Horatio would bring some, he was sure, but where was Horatio? The thought distracted him for a moment from his trouble with rubber trees, which was comforting. Sadly it was in that moment that he remembered he had sent all the rubber trees to be cleaned six weeks ago and had lost the receipt. They’d never let him pick them up without a receipt. They were very strict about that sort of thing. So he soon forgot the matter and sent it upstairs without pants on.

Just then the door burst. Damn those inflatable doors, thought Furbum. But who was standing in the space where the door had once been? Why, none other than Horatio Beanbelly of the East!

“I’m back,” he declared, “and this time I have eyebrows.”

“Oh Horatio,” whimpered Furbum, “I had quite forgot your sternum.”

With that, the giant threw off his elaborate felt cloak and ate a chair by the fire. He was happier than before, Furbum could tell. It was something about the way he had polished his Swimbot’s anarchy.

“Gum, Furbum?” the Beanbellied one cooed. Furbum quivered in his saucepan.

“I thought you’d never… ask.”

Never had the sun set so orange as it did that night over the estate of Furbum, Beanbelly and Goldstein. For they were happy. They had tea. And nobody missed the rubber trees.

I like the part about the door bursting. Might use that for something. I also like the ‘eyebrows’ line…

Anyone for French? I love the covers that my French publishers are putting on the Dragon Orb books. Here’s the latest that’s due to launch in March. What do you think?

There is now just over one week until my first ‘proper’ book – Invisible Fiends: Mr Mumbles – is officially published. It’s possible you may start to see it in bookshops before then, though, and if you do it’d be fab if you could let me know.

It’s a very exciting feeling having your first book come out. Yes, I’ve written quite a few books in the past, but none of them have been completely my creation. I did not created Ben 10 for the Ben 10 books I wrote. Nor did I give birth to David Beckham, so I can’t take credit for the book I wrote in the David Beckham Academy series, either.

But Invisible Fiends? That baby is all mine.

Late last week my author copies fell through the mail chute into my section of the cave, and – once I’d wiped the slime, snot and excrement off the package – I haven’t stopped smiling since. So you know what to watch out for when you’re at your local bookshop, this is what the cover looks like:

Pretty nice, huh? Well, in as much as a large, sinister man with stitched-up lips reaching out to try and kill you could be described as “nice”.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long time. A really long time. Being in here with so many accomplished authors, I’ve always felt like a bit of a fraud. Now, though, with Mr Mumbles about to be unleashed upon the world, I can perhaps start to feel that I’ve truly earned my place here in the stinking, decaying cesspits that are these caves.

Want to read an extract from Mr Mumbles? Pop along to the official site and click the book icon on the bottom left of the page. Feel free to leave a comment here telling me what you think.

To my horror, I’ve just uncovered incontrovertible evidence that the monsters are currently engaged in a stealthy public relations drive. All over the world’s media the psychological warfare has begun. Seeds of doubt are already being planted in hapless human minds. The old certainties about monsters are being eroded and undermined, leaving humanity utterly vulnerable to their unguessable ultimate intentions.

Examples? Well, this T-shirt design, for one.

The message these T-shirts would have you believe is that giant monsters are not terrifying city-smashing behemoths [like (say) the ones found in Tim, Defender of the Earth] but are in fact harmless, tidy creatures who take care of their environment and clean up after themselves and others.

After a year in the company of monsters – scorched by their eructations, forced to wallow in their effluences – we TBM authors can state categorically that nothing could be further from the truth.

The two benighted souls in the picture above think they’re just wearing cute T-shirts. In fact they are colluding in the spread of monster propaganda.

Don’t buy this T-shirt and make the same mistake!

Sam

I’ve been trying something new this week – and it’s been great!

Instead of driving from my dark, damp cave to Kent and back (270 miles each way) to run my creative writing classes, I’ve been linking up with year 8 pupils at Holmesdale Technology College over the Internet each day.

Using Skype (a free Internet telephony and video conference program), I’ve been teaching pupils at the opposite end of the country how to come up with unique story ideas, develop three-dimensional characters and plan a three-act plot.  And I haven’t had to charge a penny in travel expenses!

As you can see in the image below, grabbed from screen during today’s session, I get to see the class in front of me and – at their end – I’m projected on a screen on the wall (very Big Brother!)  This is the view I get – the pupils filling the window and me in a box in the corner.  They, of course, see the opposite.

The whole thing is still a learning process and, as with any new endeavour, there are pros and cons:

On the plus side…

• I get to work from the cave, so I can get some writing done instead of driving to and from the school

• The school only pays for my time and not travel and/or accommodation expenses

• I’m working on ways to show screen elements, such as graphs, illustrations and writing examples

On the minus side…

• There are occasional technical glitches – but nothing, so far, that’s stopped us from linking up

• I can’t point to individual members of the class to ask questions

• I have to make my own cups of tea!

It is, however, HUGELY EXCITING, and I intend to set up many more of these sessions.  If any other schools are interested in linking up with me in this way – to wherever you are in the world – please drop me a line.

There’s no end to where we could go with this kind of event – in fact, the Skype’s the limit!

Tommy

If you’ve not yet read a Percy Jackson book yet, then get yourselves to the library, or your nearest bookshop without delay and get one immediately!  I think it’s one of the best series out there at the moment and was very excited to discover that the first book of the series Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, has been turned into a film for the big screen.  This book/film features many of my (erstwhile) favourite monsters. (Even better is that most of them were killed or maimed during the making of this film. Perhaps it should be author Rick Riordan in here, not me!) Take a look at this trailer. It looks amazing! I’m going to be first in line to see this one:

I’m currently reading the second in the series – Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters - and will post a review shortly.

One of the highlights of 2009 for me was discovering the work of Mike Carey. I first got into his writing through the Felix Castor novels, a series of wonderfully bleak and atmospheric supernatural mysteries involving a hardbitten exorcist and his adventures in the darkest corners of London. But my growing addiction to Carey’s particular mix of baroque imagination but rigorously pared-back prose led me to his comics writing – and then I was helplessly hooked. From his smaller projects like Faker and Crossing Midnight to his triumphantly mind-bending eleven-volume run on Lucifer (which I’m halfway through right now!) I’ve loved everything of his I’ve read. And now he’s got a new series…

The first volume of THE UNWRITTEN has just been collected and released in trade paperback. Carey’s writing combines with Peter Gross’ gorgeous artwork to tell the unusual and intriguing story of Tom Taylor, a man whose boyhood was immortalized by his late father in a series of bestselling children’s fantasy novels, beloved worldwide by millions. These ‘Tommy Taylor’ adventures give off a strong whiff of Narnia and Harry Potter. But Tom Taylor’s story carries echoes of real-life ‘characters’ like Lewis Carroll’s Alice or AA Milne’s Christopher Robin: the fame that Taylor’s fictional life has given him is as much a curse as a blessing. The sudden discovery that Tom may not have been his father’s son after all causes international scandal. Worse yet, the fantasy characters of the ‘Tommy Taylor’ stories may be more real than they seem – and a sinister conspiracy that appears to involve not just those books but every book ever written is lurking in the wings…

Like Elmore Leonard (but with monsters!) Mike Carey is now an author whose books I buy on sight: when I open each one I’m excited, because I know I’ve got a treat in store. THE UNWRITTEN might turn out to be his best yet. If you want to be in at the beginning, now’s your chance.

Sam

PS: I’ll also second Andy’s recommendation of CHEW, by John Layman and Rob Guillory. It’s delicious!

Oh dear lord!  I think it was a snowman, but the monsters got to it …

We’ve been here for a year now.  Perhaps if I can find a way inside your computer, I may be able to get a message out…