I can't remember exactly when it was, but many years I took a train back from Wales with someone called Elizabeth Hammill. We'd been at a conference on teenage reading, and during the journey, Elizabeth told me about her dream for a centre for children's books: a building which would house an archive of the papers of British children's writers and illustrators. At the time, these were going to universities in other countries. She envisaged exhibition spaces, performing spaces, a bookshop, a restaurant and more besides. It's not often that a dream comes true, but Elizabeth's has, triumphantly.
I went to Seven Stories for the first time on Tuesday. It's been open for 18 months and I'd had good reports from friends who've already spoken there. Nothing, though, prepares you for the real thing. It's called Seven Stories because it's seven storeys high and also because there are, allegedly, only seven kinds of story you can tell.
The building is tucked into a curve of the river Tyne in the Ouseburn Valley, five minutes by taxi from Newcastle station. It's white, and beautiful and full of light and colour and space as well as a cornucopia of everything related to children and books.
Almost the first thing you see when you come in is the bookshop, which is packed with things you want. Books of course, in abundance and beautifully displayed, but also very desirable stuff which children (and adults like me) adore: stationery, soft toys, audiobooks and so forth.
There are exhibitions on two floors. One is devoted to the work and life of Robert Westall, who is a native of these parts. Westall was a great cat lover and cut-outs of a black cat appear everywhere. For fans of his work, the exhibition is both fascinating and pleasurable. There are photographs, artwork, manuscripts, all kinds of interactive things, and even a 1940s-style radio on which you can hear Robert reading one of his tales.
The Sebastian Walker gallery on the next floor houses an exhibition focusing on Ten Picture Books, all published by Walker. You step into the world of each book in turn, which is quite magical. You can, if you're small enough, curl up in a red velvet shoe, get a hug from the Hugging Chair and make your own fish. You can also listen and see Michael Rosen give a bravura performance of We're Going on a Bear Hunt.
The attic on the top floor is where I spoke to more than 60 children and sat in one of two specially decorated "storytelling" chairs. It's an airy, friendly room and everyone could see me, hear me, and be quite comfortable at the same time. This is not a common experience for many children who listen to visiting writers, more often than not, while sitting on a hard wooden floor.
In the basement, there's a place where you can paint, draw and write and look out on to the river and the specially- made ship anchored outside.
Seven Stories is beautiful: a delight that in a few years time will also be the home of the richest and most extensive archive of British children's literature in the world. It's also a very useful idea for the Easter holidays.
