I have two books coming out in the early summer. One of them is my novel, Birdeye (Salt). The other is a picture book about refugees called Why Do People Move Home? illustrated by Renia Metallinou, for a series called Why In The World (Franklin Watts).
I’ve written nearly seventy books for young readers over the past eighteen years. I used to write them under a different name, but about six years ago I decided to bring everything under my real name, Judith Heneghan. This means that my children’s books show up on the internet alongside my more ‘literary’ adult fiction, and it makes me a little nervous, if I’m honest, because how can anyone be taken seriously as a writer if they pen titles such as Love Your Rabbit?
Of course, I don’t actually know if this is how other people see things. Cyril Connolly’s ‘pram in the hall’ is here the enemy not so much of ‘good art’ but rather, how we perceive it.
I also believe that young readers deserve better than my angst about brand. Fortunately for me, those seventy-odd books were a joy to write. I love the discipline of the 32-page format: thirteen spreads, few words. I get to exercise my visual imagination, even though I’m not the artist or designer. Young readers have no patience with waffle or imprecise writing; sentences must be sharp, clear and strong. Sound and rhythm matter. Every word matters.
However, the key reason why I undertook such work in the first place is because I needed to earn a living. When I started writing, I was a single mum with four children under twelve. Educational publishers paid a flat fee for each book, which wasn’t negotiable, but it was safe and certain. A royalty would have been nice, but I couldn’t wait.
Very few writers can afford to give up the day job. Most of us need to multi-task, earn a living, juggle different identities and spend time in a routinely domestic sphere.
On the other hand, I don’t want to confuse people. Perhaps it should be all about the brand.
Something needs to be understood, though.
Writers, particularly women, can be more than one thing.