My final event of the festival: Geraldine McCaughrean and Meg Rosoff, in conversation with Claire Armitstead.
Two of the biggest names on the booming children's fiction scene, this pair. Both picked up prestigious literary awards for their work last year; the key difference between them, however, is that McCaughrean is the author of a whopping 130 books (not all, it must be pointed out, in her own name) and three-times winner of the Whitbread children's award, while Rosoff's novel, How I Live Now, is her (remarkably assured) debut. Visually, they're a contrast too: Rosoff is handsome in black, McCaughrean coolly elegant in head-to-toe white. But between them, Armitstead says, they sum up what's exciting about what's been happening in children's fiction over the last few years.
"How many people have read the books?" asks Armitstead. Hands are thrust into the air, but both authors read briefly from their books anyway, and everyone listens, rapt.
There follows an in-depth discussion of the characters and plots of the two novels, which fascinates the saucer-eyed children – mainly girls - who are leaning forward in their seats. "I created Daisy as a character that represents everything that's wrong with New York," Rosoff says. "Since the Noah myth is a borrowed myth anyway, I didn't feel to guilty about stealing it," McCaughrean muses. "Did you get into any trouble over your reinterpretation of the Noah myth?" Armitstead asks. "Less than I expected," replies McCaughrean, " … although it hasn't come out in America yet."
Rosoff is herself American, and points out that her book, in which young teenage cousins fall in love and have sex, was nevertheless very well received in the US. She breaks into a fabulously fruity impression of the of Alabaman librarians who phoned her one night, to say "Howdy, Meg! We jus' luuuurve yo' book!" She also offers insights into the creative process: a friend recently showed her an email that she herself had sent early on when writing How I Live Now. "My God, I haven't got enough plot in this book," it read. "I think I'll throw in world war three."
McCaughrean entered a worldwide competition for the right to write the sequel to Peter Pan - and won. We're treated to a literary exclusive when she gives us a taster of the story from the pages of the red leather notebook, which she bought on the day she won, expressly for the purpose.
Dreams, the story goes, are leaking out from Neverland into the real world, "tendrils of dream starting to poke though" and leaving bits of Neverland behind. People are dreaming of Neverland and waking up with cutlasses in their beds. "'Something is wrong in Neverland, gentlemen,' said Wendy [now a tidyminded grown-up], 'and that is why we have to go back.'" There was more, but you'll have to wait for it.
Alas, I'm off back down to London now, but it was lovely to end my festival with this tantalising glimpse of the future. Michelle Pauli will be picking up the blogging baton tomorrow morning: until then, thanks for listening!
