Even those on the Dark Side have to kick back and relax sometimes.

500 Words was launched on this morning’s Chris Evans Breakfast Show.  All you have to do is write and submit a story of 500 words or under, and you could win some fabulous prizes – including Chris’s height in books, and £500 worth of books for your school library!

So, check out the competition home page, and get writing!

Full details here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/500words/2012/

Someone Else's Life - Katie Dale

To my shame, I admit I’d never heard of this condition before reading Katie’s cracking debut novel, but it’s certainly made a mark on the map of my consciousness now. Her story revolves around the repurcussions created by one misplaced act of kindness that leads to a web of lies and misunderstandings that impact a whole network of people. At the centre of the maelstrom is Rosie Kenning.

When Rosie’s mother, Trudie, dies of Huntingdon’s disease, she is terrified. Huntingdon’s is a degenerative hereditary condition and there is a fifty percent chance that she may have inherited it. However, to her shock, Rosie discovers that Trudie was not her biological mother – a revelation that brings both relief and devastation in equal measure. Her world is shattered. Her life feels like it’s been nothing but one big lie. Rosie needs answers and closure, so she embarks on a quest to find the truth. Unfortunately, the truth is not always comfortable.

This is a tale with more twists and spikes than a barbed wire fence. Every time you think you’ve got the situation all mapped out in your mind, new revelations spin the story in a whole new direction. I think it fair to say that the story-line will appeal more to girls than boys, though awareness of Huntingdon’s is something that should be highlighted to both. I will be surprised if this book does not find its way on to award shortlists. It’s gripping and pacy with a strong plot that will certainly win Katie an army of avid readers. It is a bonus that it will also serve to heighten public awareness of Huntingdon’s disease, which makes it a particularly worthwhile story. Bravo, Katie. An excellent debut novel – I’ll be looking out for more with interest.

I’m just saying.

The side-effect of doing fewer school visits is that each one seems a lot more fun. It’s special. I have more energy. I’m more spontaneous and I find myself genuinely listening to what my audience has to say, rather than going through some slick routine that’s safe & familiar.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that I never fall back on a few old tricks I’ve developed or a couple of favourite stories I like to wheel out every now and again. It also doesn’t mean that things never go wrong. Today I managed to combine both when I slipped into one of my favourite ‘bits’ – a Hitler impression. Somehow, sometimes, it IS relevant to what I’m meant to be talking about, but as I’m sitting here, I can’t quite put my finger on how. Never mind. It’s find. It’s my chance to pretend I’m Sacha Baron Cohen or Peter Sellers.

Sadly, just as I was getting warmed up with my subtle German accent and Aryan philosophy, I noticed how many of the students were filming me. Not just taking pictures, but actually filming. I panicked. Suddenly all I could think of was the OUTRAGE that would follow if any of these video clips found their way onto youtube.

Remember when Prince Harry dressed up as a Nazi? Or was it Prince William? Or was it the Queen? I can’t remember. But I remember everyone was pretty upset about it. Now, I’m not Prince Harry or Prince William or the Queen, and nor was I dressed as a Nazi. But somehow, one of my favourite routines, which always gets a great response from the audience, felt a little… inappropriate. OK, it felt A LOT inappropriate.

So, in my panic, what did I do?

My ‘fight-or-flight’ response kicked in. Unfortunately, both FIGHT and FLIGHT kicked in at the same time. So I ran round the room (a large-ish library, audience of 100) nicking all the mobile phones and cameras that were pointed at me. I gathered them up like an elf stealing jewellery at a dinner party. (Do elves do that? I don’t know. I’ve never been to a dinner party.)

That was the ‘fight’ response. Then came the ‘flight’. I ran out of the room.

100 students and several teachers were left baffled. I realise now how it must have appeared. I turned up at their school, pretended to begin an author event, then nicked a load of iphones and ran away.

I think I must have blacked out for a few minutes because I don’t really remember what happened. All I know is that I came round lying on the roof of a volvo in the car park, mobile phones spread out around me. And somehow there was a laptop sitting on my chest.

I was a little disorientated. Who knows how much time had passed.

I gathered up as many phones as I could carry (and, weirdly, there seemed to be more than I could carry – how had I got them all there?) and tried to take them back to the library. That’s when I found out I wasn’t in the car park of the school. I was in the car park of a branch of Sainsbury’s. The St Alban’s branch. The school I was supposed to be at was nowhere near St Alban’s, it was in West London.

I’m proud of the fact that at this point I did not panic. But that’s just about all I’m proud of. I used my own phone to find the number of the school. I rang them up to apologise. There was an awkward conversation which wasn’t completely resolved when the owner of the volvo turned up. Turns out he’d been parked at the school I was visiting a few hours previously and driven from there to St Alban’s. At no point did he mention that I’d been on his roof the whole time. I don’t think that’s possible. Surely it isn’t. And yet, I can’t think of any other way that I got where I was.

It took me 2 hours to get back to the school. By this time the school day was nearly over, but the librarian (very understanding, very confused) was kind enough to assemble almost all of the students in the library again. (I’m not entirely sure they were the same students. They looked a little older. One of them was in a boiler suit. I don’t know why. One of them had a beard.)

I promised I’d pick up where I left off and apologised for panicking. They sat in complete silence while I told them the story about the time I lost my shoe on a train. Then I opened it up for questions.

First question: who are you?

Second question: did you bring my phone back?

The third question was very kindly written on a piece of paper, wrapped around a mug and gently hurled in my direction. That was from the librarian.

So it was a mixed response from the audience, but all in all I’d say it was a success. Felt good to be back on the schools circuit…

…you know – getting myself out there…

“I promised to send you a monster,” says Phil, “and I keep my promises. Here is Auntie Bacterial! Minging!”

We can only agree.

“Also” (Phil continues) “here is a link to the children’s section of my website. You may enjoy it. It shows off my softer, caring, gentle side.”

For more of Phil’s work check his previous guest posts to TBM here and here.

Scream Street launches in Japan next week – with these incredible covers!

Check back here for more details over the comping year. In the meantime, here’s a competition for you to win a SIGNED copy of TARZAN: THE GREYSTOKE LEGACY! Head over to THE BOOK ZONE to enter.

…aisle upon aisle of the most delicious regional speciality foods…

…and this dude:

He’s a Namahage, a terror to Japanese children everywhere. If you’re lazy or disobedient, screaming, roaring Namahage might come to your house and peel your feet.

The kids in the pic above must be very well-behaved to be able to look so relaxed. I can think of several good reasons not to want to hold a Namahage’s machete, can’t you?

Sam

The year is 1910. A young boy called Sig Andersson is sat in a cabin north of the Arctic circle with only the frozen corpse of his father for company when there is a knock at the door. A dangerous man is outside. A man from his father’s past. A man who will do anything to find the gold he thinks Sig’s father possessed. But Sig knows nothing of any gold and as the man presses him harder, all he can think about is the Colt Revolver hidden in the storeroom.

This is a superb read. If you’ve never read anything by Marcus, I’d say this is a great book to start with. It certainly won’t be the last time you’ll be seeing me talking about his work here. If I gave star ratings (which I don’t) this would get the full five.