When I think of some of the stories I have read to my own children over the past 6 years, it made me wonder whether I couldn’t just produce something better than some of the stuff that sat on the playroom bookshelf. Books that were dutifully read once whilst a wriggling child was trying to turn the pages before I’d finished reading them, both of us willing the exercise to come to a conclusion. The good books on the shelf had battered edges, ripped pages and a healthy amount of encrusted snot. The others stood quite pristine, if a little dusty.
I am a 37 year old dyslexic mother of three small girls, with a great love of the countryside. I am a keen horsewoman and a member of British Eventing. I live in East Yorkshire with my husband and menagerie of animals, from a pack of dogs to an albino wallaby and three rather random and incredibly ugly turkeys, that were the product of a refreshing evening out.
I have always loved writing, especially the thrill in the challenge of telling my stories in rhyme. I suppose the rhymes started at school and were normally not overly polite poems about my least favourite members of teaching staff (finally something I can genuinely thank them for). So, when the last of the girls reached four years old, which in itself was an achievement given her love of heights and jumping from them, what else had I to do with all this unaccustomed spare time… but write. So I did.
The first five books have been bought to life by the artist and sculptor Charlie Mackesy, whom it has been a privilege to get to know. I truly hope you enjoy them and that soon they are tattered and battered and covered in snot!
P.s. Buy the hardbacks, you can wipe them clean!
Photos from the Launch
Photos by David M. Bennet at Getty Images