Olympics - by Robin Scott-Elliot

It took the time you have spent reading these words, and probably the rest of this sentence as well for my favourite ever Olympic moment to happen. Actually, probably these as well… I need enough to cover 9.63 seconds.

That was the blink of an eye Usain Bolt needed to win the men’s 100m gold on a warm, raucous July evening in London in 2012. I was sitting up in the media seats, just above the finish line. I’ve watched and written about sport for 25 years, all around the world, but this was the night of nights because I love the Olympic Games.

I’m fortunate enough to have been to three, the first in Sydney in 2000. But having it in London was special – I could walk to the stadium from my house. Imagine walking from your house to see the fastest man the world has ever seen win the greatest event of the Olympic Games! When I was growing-up I loved watching the Olympics, and no event more than the one to determine the fastest person on the planet. In the moments before the starting gun fired, the hairs on the back of my neck would stand up when the commentator said sotto voce, as they always did, “the final of the men’s 100m…”

My view as Usain Bolt won 100m gold in London

(Copyright Robin Scott-Elliot)

There’s no Usain Bolt anymore – I’d have him as the greatest sports person I’ve ever seen – but there are, of course, still the Olympics and there is plenty to look forward to in Paris from 26 July. The opening ceremony will see each country float down the Seine on a flotilla of boats from Albania to Zimbabwe, the A to Z of the world (although thankfully there will be no R for Russia).

Every Games has a story of its own. There will be heroes and villains – every good story needs a good villain – there will be (sporting) tragedies and improbable triumphs all played out to the backdrop of one of the world’s great cities.

The countdown proper has begun to Paris 2024 with the arrival of the Olympic torch in France this week. This will be the third time Paris has hosted the Olympics yet it’s still 100 years since the world’s best athletes last gathered in the French capital. In 1924, only 135 of them were women out of more than 3,000. This summer there will be around 10,500 athletes in all, half of them women – the first 50/50 split in Olympic history.

Modern Olympic history begins in 1896 with the first Games in Athens, held there because the ancient games had been born in Greece. The very first is believed to have taken place in 776BC.

Paris’s first Games came in 1900 when events such as underwater swimming – take a deep breath and off you go! – cricket and pigeon shooting… with live (soon to be dead) pigeons.

The London 2012 stadium

(Copyright Robin Scott-Elliot)

The 1924 Olympics in Paris became famous in Britain as the ‘Chariots of Fire’ Games, Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams winning gold medals. There was also gold in the pool for the American Gertrude Ederle who a year later was to become the first woman to swim the Channel. The 1924 US Olympics team were given a ticker-tape parade in New York for topping the medal table; Ederle received one all of her own for swimming the Channel for which an estimated two million people turned out.

Olympic heroes last through the ages, and often mean something beyond their sport… Jesse Owens winning four golds in Berlin in 1936, Fanny Blankers Coen winning four of her own in London in 1948, 14-year-old Nadia Comaneci producing the perfect 10 in Montreal in 1976.

There has too always been a dark side to the sport; from doping to corruption to protest, such as Tommie Smith and John Carlos with their Black Power salute in 1968. And there’s been real tragedy, the murder of Israeli athletes and coaches and a West German policeman by terrorists in 1972. 

There are, thankfully, so many uplifting stories to find in 128 years of modern Olympic history, so many well-I-never tales. Here’s one from the last time the Games were in Paris. Johnny Weissmuller was born in what is now Romania and arrived on Ellis Island in his mother’s arms before he turned one. After catching polio as a child his doctor advised his parents to take him swimming to aid his recovery. He was a natural – by the time he arrived in Paris he was already a world record holder. He won three gold medals, and a bronze in water polo, and added two more in Amsterdam four years later. After he hung up his trunks, Weissmuller switched to acting and was cast as Tarzan – he was to star in a dozen Tarzan movies (in between five marriages) and become one of the best-known actors in the world. He’s remembered today as a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and features on the album cover of The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

In Sydney for the 2000 Olympics

(Copyright Robin Scott-Elliot)

Who will be the stories of this Paris Games? Let me give you a couple of names to look out for, one British – Sky Brown, who turns 16 just before the Games. She’s a world champion skateboarder and could turn her bronze in Tokyo into gold in Paris. And my other one to watch is Summer McIntosh. She’s from Canada, she’s 17 and she could win as many golds as Tarzan himself.

Robin Scott-Elliot has been a sports journalist for 25 years with the BBC, ITV, the Sunday Times, the Independent and the ‘i’, covering every sport you can think of and a few you probably can’t. He threw that all away to move home to Scotland and chase his dream of writing books instead of football reports. Once there his daughters persuaded him to write a story for them and that is how his career as a children's author began. Finding Treasure Island is his latest book and is published by Cranachan.

My family’s tragic band of brothers - by Robin Scott-Elliot

 

History was my favourite subject at school and it still fascinates me today – I’ve always got a pile of history books next to my bed (my favourite place to read!). What interests me most about history is not the big picture, the great canvas that shows the rise and fall of empires and kings and queens, but the all the small portraits of the people who make up history. I want to know about those in the frontline, the led not the leaders and that’s why I have a fascination with family history.

This is what got me into history in the first place – my family story. Everyone will have something in their family history worth sharing. I help put together a podcast (We Have Ways Family Stories) in which listeners send in stories of their relatives from the Second World War. Hundreds were sent in. These range from tales of brave men and women doing incredible things… to those whose battle was just to stay alive… to those whose part in history almost makes you laugh.

One listener told of a relative who worked at a top-secret weapons factory. The roof was covered in grass to make it look like a field with a few wooden cows and sheep scattered around. This person’s job was to climb up on to the roof each morning and move the cows and sheep around in case the Germans realised they were always in the same place.

So, everyone’s family has a story but you have to go out and look for it. That’s what I did with mine and it’s one of the main reasons I became obsessed with history.

Bertie Anderson

I’ve an old photograph hanging in my house of my great-granddad, WH Anderson, known as Bertie. It’s been handed down the family and I grew up hearing stories of Bertie and his three brothers, Ronnie, Charlie and Teddie. They were all killed in the First World War and so I decided I wanted to write their story so we would have a way of always remembering them and their short lives.

The Anderson brothers

This is what I found out…

When war began in the hot summer of 1914, Charlie Anderson, a lieutenant in the Highland Light Infantry, wrote home that he “was so glad we will all be in this one together.” Charlie, like many Britons and in particular British soldiers, was excited at the thought of going to war. He pictured marching off to fight the Germans with his three brothers at his side. But by the time his brothers arrived in France, Charlie was already dead.

Charlie’s war lasted eight days. He went into the trenches on 11 December 1914. On 19 December he took part in an attack on the German lines and was never seen again. His body was never found. His parents, Nora and Willie, were told he was missing, but that didn’t mean he was dead. They had to wait seven terrible months until it was confirmed Charlie was gone forever.

By then Ronnie was at the front. He joined Charlie’s battalion, determined to ‘do his bit’, as people at the time used to say.

He lasted longer than Charlie, but not by long. In October 1915, Ronnie, a tall man with long legs, didn’t notice he’d stopped by a place in the trench which was not as deep as the rest. He was shot by a sniper.

What must this have been like for the two remaining brothers, Bertie and Teddie? What about Nora and Willie? Two of their children gone, the remaining two now at the front and in daily danger of suffering the same fate. What was it like to live like that for day after day, month after month, year after year?

Teddie Anderson

By March 1918, Teddie was in the Royal Flying Corps – he left school and joined up. The first time he went abroad was to go to war. If you lasted six months at the front as a pilot, you were sent home to be an instructor – most pilots didn’t last that long. Teddie sent long letters home from France. In one he wrote about singing all the way home after surviving a raid on some German observation balloons. I picture him sitting in the cockpit, swaddled in his massive leather coat with its fur collar, scarf flapping in the wind and goggles fixed tight, shouting out his song. I wonder what song it was?

On 16 March 1918, Teddie, now an instructor in Kent, suffered a catastrophic engine failure while on a test flight. His injuries were fatal. “He slipped away to a better place,” the nurse who treated him wrote to Nora.

Nora put a thin black line through 16 on her pocket March calendar. Nine days later she made another mark.

On 21 March, the Germans launched a huge attack, a last bid to win the war. Bertie and his men of the Highland Light Infantry stood in their way. On 25 March he was killed. He’d spent his final day leading his men in attack after attack. He died a hero – later awarded a Victoria Cross. The medal is in the Imperial War Museum along with photographs and the story of him and his brothers. When I go to London, I go and see the medal. It feels like I’m saying hello.

The telegram sent to Bertie's wife, Gertie,
 informing her that he'd been killed

Bertie never knew of the medal, or the fact he would be considered a hero. I wonder what Nora, his mother, made of it. Four children, all gone in the space of four years. How do you cope with that? She made an album about her boys, photographs and letters and newspaper cuttings, everything she had of them. All she had left of them.

I’ve got the album. I’m looking after it until I hand it on to my children and I hope they will hand it on in due course. And that way someone will always remember Nora’s boys, Bertie, Ronnie, Charlie and Teddie.

Robin Scott-Elliot has been a sports journalist for 25 years with the BBC, ITV, the Sunday Times, the Independent and the ‘i’, covering every sport you can think of and a few you probably can’t. He threw that all away to move home to Scotland and chase his dream of writing books instead of football reports. Once there his daughters persuaded him to write a story for them and that is how his career as a children's author began. Finding Treasure Island is his latest book and is published by Cranachan.

 

 

 

 

A Chilly Afternoon's Mudlarking! by guest author Kate Wiseman

Hi, I was absolutely delighted to be asked to make a film about mudlarking* for the Time Tunnellers. 

If you don’t know, mudlarking is searching the Thames foreshore at low tide to see what historical treasures you can find, and you need a permit from the Port of London Authority to do it.  I’m always more than happy to talk about mudlarking, so I set off on a chilly late winter’s day to see what the Thames would give me.

Mudlarkers look for objects from the past on the banks of the Thames

The tide wasn’t particularly low, but the Thames was generous, as she usually is. My favourite finds were a tiny 17^th century pipe bowl and a lovely nugget of fool’s gold. Someone suggested that I break it open to see what it’s like inside, but I think it’s beautiful as it is. What do you think?? What would you do?

One of Kate's mudlarking finds

I didn’t come across my dream find: a bellarmine jug or witch bottle. They were used in the 17^th century to ward off witchcraft. Superstitious people filled them with nail clippings, hair, red thread and even urine to counteract witches’ spells. Often they would be buried under the doorway of a house, or beneath the fireplace. Others were simply used to transport alcohol and thrown into the Thames when empty.

I did find the handle of one, and also the eye from the representation of an angry-looking man. These were applied to the front of bellarmine bottles.  I dream about finding a whole one and if I ever do, I’ll be shouting about it from the rooftops. 

Clay pipes are one object that can be found by mudlarkers -
the original mudlarkers were poor children.

My first Mudlark Mystery, The Grinning Throat, features a witch bottle and on the front cover, Edie Lighterman, one of my protagonists, is shown holding one. That will have to do until I find a real one. Watch this space…

'My first thought is that it’s a pig that someone has lost to the river. Perhaps it fell off one of the barges that choke up the Thames. They’re a constant feature, toiling up and down, day and night, giving off black smoke that clings to the water.'

Joe (15) and Edie (13) are orphans living in Victorian London. Forever worried that they will be sent to the dreaded workhouse, they scratch out a living the best way they can by mudlarking on the foreshore of the River Thames and selling their finds to the notorious Hempson. One day they discover something macabre, and it will change their lives forever. 

The Grinning Throat is the first in the trilogy of The Mudlark Mysteries. Written by award winning author, Kate Wiseman, it is historical fiction at its best. Suitable for readers from age 9 and upwards.

The Grinning Throat has been longlisted in the historical Association's Young Quills 2024 award.

You can buy copies online HERE.

Kate Wiseman is an author and mudlark. She grew up in Oxford in the 1970s and was the first in her family to go to university, at the age of 38. She loved it so much, she went on to take a master’s degree as well. That gave her the courage to have a go at what she’d always dreamed of doing: being a writer. Kate loves visiting schools to deliver creative writing workshops based on mudlarking and her books. 

Find out more about mudlarking and Kate's other books at Katewiseman.co.uk

*Mudlarkers in London must have a Thames Foreshore Permit which can be obtained from the Port of London Authority. All objects which are three hundred years old or more must be reported to the Museum of London. Mudlarks arrange regular appointments with a Finds Liaison Officer who records the artefacts on the Portable Antiquities Scheme managed by the British Museum.

Giving History a Twist –by Marie Basting

 

The idea for My Family and Other Romans came to me in a dream. Red caped legionaries, glowing amber as they boarded a gleaming silver bullet train. It seemed obvious to me that these soldiers must have belonged to Vulcan, the Roman god of fire. And I just had to tell their story.

But that meant writing a historical novel, right? Legionaries equalled Rome, even if these soldiers were made of lava. And I didn’t write historical fiction. I write fantasy, funny books that help us escape the present rather than delve into our past. I couldn’t write a book set in Ancient Rome…?

But I couldn’t not. Fortuna had gifted me too good a story seed not to plant. And, so, I did three things. I swallowed back the imposter syndrome, set to work on the research and I gave the story a twist.

That twist was LARP.

Live Action Role Play -  LARP -  is a  type of role play game where players choose and develop a character, dress up like that character and, guided by a loose script and series of rules, meet up with other players to bring the game to life.  It is sometimes described as a form of interactive storytelling, with the player fully immersed in the story world. As Silvia, our protagonist, says in the book, ‘it’s part acting, part dressing up and one hundred percent awesome!’

Impressions from the LARP "ConQuest of Mythodea" 

2018 in Brokeloh, Credit Frank fotografiert

There are lots of types of LARP including fantasy, horror, sci-fi and, yes, even historical. Many LARPs are pretty simple, relying mostly on the imagination, but others have elaborate sets inhabited by people in spectacular costumes. It’s perhaps the only place where you can be a centurion, cyclops or sorceress for the day and still go the chippy on the way home for your tea.

As a writer who likes to mix things up, I thought it would be interesting to ask the question, what if a keen LARPer thought they were on the set of a major LARP event but had actually stumbled through a portal back to Ancient Rome?

This is what happens to Silvia. A resident of Once Brewed, a tiny village off Hadrian’s Wall, she’s no stranger to history. But nothing could prepare her for what she uncovers as she journeys back to Ancient Rome. 

My dog looking for Silvia’s portal at Housesteads
 Roman Fort, Hadrian’s Wall.

Or rather an alternative version of Ancient Rome, for the world Silvia finds herself in has all the quirks you’d expect from the Romans – like having to wipe your bum with a communal sponge and rich people eating flamingo tongues and stuffed dormice – but there are also elements that take Silvia by surprise. Not least the fact she has a baby cyclops for a sister.

The Research  

Even though My Family and Other Romans is very much a fantasy, I worked really hard to get the historical setting right; to make the world as vivid as possible and immerse the reader in the sights, sounds and tastes of Rome. You want me to tell you how I did this? Oh, OK, then.

Well, first off, I read lots of Roman books and articles. And when I say lots, I mean LOTS! In fact, my brain is now so full of Roman facts every time I blow my nose one appears on the tissue.

I also watched lots of documentaries and films set in the era which meant I got to eat lots of ice cream – you can’t watch a film without ice cream right?

Finally, I had fun visiting lots of historic sites and I even did a course in both Classical Mythology and Roman Architecture. 

Bye Bye Imposter Syndrome…Sort Of

Impressed? Well, I have to be honest, eating up Roman facts like Pac-Man eating up dots was driven partly by the imposter syndrome – by the fact I still wasn’t sure if I could pull this off. Sure, I’d done shed loads of research and been interested in the Romans ever since my collage of Pompei was hung in the head teacher’s office at primary school but there are lots of people far more knowledgeable about the classics than me.

But I’d learnt the hard way we can’t let self-doubt stop us doing things and so I decided I’d just do my best and see what happened. And look where that led to – a published book that people seem to like and which has a dog on the front just like my dog Polly.

So maybe next time you’re worried you can’t do something, you’ll remember this blog and think, hey if that Marie woman with the cute dog could put away her imposter syndrome and be good at history and writing maybe I can too. Maybe I too can look at things in a new way and give them a twist? Maybe my difference is my strength.

Writing Challenge

And so that’s my challenge to you. I want you to take a story or myth and give it your own modern twist. Because after all that’s what many of the great Roman story tellers did – they took myths that were centuries old and gave them a new flavour to better suit the times.

So how might you approach this? How about dropping a Roman god in your local shopping centre and seeing how they get along in the food court? Or imagine your favourite mythological character reborn as a child? A child attending your school, maybe, who can’t control their powers? What kind of trouble would that bring? Or maybe you want to invent a totally new mythological character – Ducklius Ceaser here suggests a cross between Jupiter and a duck. 

So, off you go. Fire up your imaginations and rewrite the myths. Have fun and may the gods be with you!

Marie Basting

Marie Basting writes funny fiction for middle-graders. Her debut novel, the critically acclaimed Princess BMX, was listed by the Guardian and BookTrust in their ‘best new books’ category and has been praised by Gender Collect as one of the best books out there for smashing stereotypes. Her latest book, My Family and Other Romans, is a laugh-out-loud funny family caper full of excitement and heart and has been equally well received by critics.

Told by a career adviser, that girls like her don’t become writers, Marie loves nothing more than inspiring others to believe in themselves and achieve their dreams whatever the limits put on them. Her school and festival events have inspired thousands of children to smash stereotypes and to read and write for pleasure.

Find out more at: http://mariebasting.com/

 

Twitter - @riewriting

Instagram  - @marie_basting_author

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/MarieBastingAuthor/

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How mining led to the first industrial canals of England – by Susan Brownrigg

The historic county of Lancashire was the birthplace of England’s first industrial canals.

Canals were created as an alternative way to transport coal. In the 1750s coal was carried by horse and cart over poor quality roads. The canals meant coal could be taken by water, faster, easier and cheaper!

The Sankey (St Helens) Canal was approved by parliamentary act in 1757. The permission granted was to make the Sankey Brook navigable, but the engineers instead cut a separate canal alongside the river.

Eventually the canal would run 15.8 miles between St Helens and Widnes, meaning coal could be transported both locally and further afield to salt works on the river Weaver and for use in a growing number of chemical industries.

Canal locks make it possible for barges to climb up high hills and mountains.

The Sankey Canal included broad locks which would allow traditional Mersey flats – a type of sailing barge. The flats had tall masts for their sails, so swing bridges were also needed to allow the barges to pass through.

The Sankey Canal used the first staircase lock in England, called the Old Double Lock. Staircase locks are used where the gradient is very steep.

The Sankey canal closed in 1963, but the towpaths can still be enjoyed. There are plans to restore the route to water traffic again. https://www.sankeycanal.co.uk/

Nicknamed the ‘Dukes Cut,’ the Bridgewater Canal was opened in 1761. 39 miles long, it stretches between Runcorn and Leigh. It does not include any locks, as it is built on one level.

The Canal was named after the third Duke of Bridgewater, Francis Egerton.

The third Duke of Bridgewater, Francis Egerton.

The Bridgewater Canal was the first industrial canal in England that did not follow the route of an existing watercourse.

The opening of the Bridgewater Canal as depicted by artist Ford Madox Brown.
One of twelve murals in the Great Hall, Manchester Town Hall

The Duke of Bridgewater owned a mine at Worsley, but he had two problems: the mines kept flooding and he needed to find a way to make more money.

As a young man, Francis Egerton took a grand tour of Europe, and it is thought seeing the use of canals in France also inspired him to commission his own.

The solution – reached with the assistance of his steward, John Gilbert, was a specially built watercourse which would drain the water away and could be used to transport coal to market.

There would be two elements to the plan – a series of underground canals at Worsley Delph and the creation of the Bridgewater Canal.

The Duke of Bridgewater needed a canal engineer to bring the plans to life. He chose James Brindley, one of the very early canal engineers.

Mr James Brindley

James was a former Millwright apprentice, as a child he had been educated at home by his mother.
When asked by Parliament for a model of his proposed Barton Aqueduct, he dashed out and bought a huge cheese. He then returned and cut the cheese in half, then pulled a long rectangular object out of his coat and placed it across the top to represent the canal!

The Barton Aqueduct, by G F Yates

The aqueduct was the first of its kind in England. It had to be demolished in 1893 for the construction of the Manchester Ship Canal.

The Bridgewater Canal at Worsley ((Photo by Susan Brownrigg.)

At the Worlsey end of the Bridgewater Canal the water is a distinctive orange colour. The mining process meant that iron ore in the bedrock was released into the water. This iron oxide, or rust, was deposited as sludge in the passageways and then passed on into the canal water. Interestingly, the sludge used to be sold as 'ochre' pigment for artists to use in their paint!

Delph means delved or dug place. The site was originally a sandstone quarry. The artwork you can see at the Delph today is a modern interpretation of the crane which was used to lift the heavy stone onto barges.

Worsley Delph and crane as shown in Arthur Young's 1771 book
 A Six Months Tour through the North of England

The Delph is a large canal basin. There, you can also see two tunnels carved into the rock. These entrances lead to a series of underground canals. The canals are on four levels and covered 47 miles.

This subterranean system allowed ten time more coal to be transported than had been possible by road, and the price of coal halved! The underground canal was so tight that miners had to use ‘legging’ to get their narrowboats called starvationers to go through. The miners would lie on their back and use their legs to push the boat along.

The starvationer boats used in the underground canals were just four and a half foot wide.

A replica coal cart made from bronze is another vivid artwork at Worsey Delph. Carts like this were pulled by women known as 'drawers.' 

Young children also worked in the mines. The coals in the cart are engraved with stories telling what life was like for the children working underground in the dark.

The Mines Act of 1842 finally stopped children under 10 from working there.

The replica coal cart by Bronzecast (Photo by Susan Brownrigg.)

When the underground canal opened people came from far and wide to see it. Today it is still a popular tourist spot.

You can find out more about Worsley Delph over on the Time Tunnellers YouTube channel.

Author Susan Brownrigg at Worsley Delph. (Photo by Susan Brownrigg.)

Susan Brownrigg is a Lancashire lass and the author of three historical children's books for ages 8+ - Gracie Fairshaw and the Mysterious Guest & Gracie Fairshaw and the Trouble at the Tower are seaside mysteries set in Blackpool. Kintana and the Captain's Curse is a pirate adventure set in Madagascar.

Susan's books are published by Uclan Publishing. They are available from bookshops and online retailers.

susanbrownrigg.com

@susanbrownrigg

susan brownrigg facebook author page

Girl Power during the Highland Clearances - a #WomensHistoryMonth Special

When I was at Edinburgh University in the nineties, I studied John McGrath’s play The Cheviot, the Stag and the Black, Black Oil. It’s a remarkable piece of writing and as someone who had grown up on the continent, this aspect of history was news to me. It was my first encounter with the Highland Clearances, and I resolved to travel to Sutherland one day to find out more. At that point I was interested, but no more. Fast forward almost twenty years. It wasn’t until the windy summer of 2013 that I finally managed to make good that promise to myself – and by that stage I had acquired a husband, three children and a dog. I had struggled to find an accessible book about the Clearances for my two girls ahead of the holiday. I was feeling buoyant that summer – after what felt like hundreds of rejections, one of my manuscripts was shortlisted for the Kelpies Prize. So, while in the ‘maybe-I-can-be-a-writer-after-all’ bubble, I stumbled upon the ruins of Ceannabeinne, outside Durness, above the world's most beautiful beach.

On the information panels connecting the walk through the ruins, it explained about the Durness riots (riots? In a place like this?) – and how a rebellion against the Clearances was started by the women and children of the village. Underestimating their resolve, the land manager had sent the eviction writ on a day that all the men and boys were away thatch-cutting – in the misguided expectation that the women would be a pushover and there would be no trouble. The villagers would simply be sent away to make room for the more profitable sheep. But somehow, records tell us, the women of Ceannabeinne managed to overwhelm the messenger and forced him to burn his own writ. This is even more remarkable when you know that simply touching the document would make it legally binding! I still wonder how they actually did it, but one thing was clear: here was an opportunity to focus on the female perspective of that part of history. What a story, and never written about in fiction. It was a rare gift – many details were in place, but there was all the room for speculation I needed, too. What if the catalyst for the rebellion was a kid? And the story just rolled in from there, like the waves on Ceannabeinne beach.

There were other books about that part of history, but written in the sixties and falling into easy, and perhaps lazy, gender stereotypes. Girl: Oh no, I am so scared! What are we going to do? (wrings hands) Boy: (rolls up sleeves) Well, let me just sort this out with my fisticuffs! You get the idea. I was hoping for something a bit more relatable, and here was the perfect story to try. However, the story is much, much wider than just the Highland Clearances. It’s about the haves and the have-nots, about the responsibility that comes with power, so often abused. And it’s about the individuals who choose to try to make a difference, as best as they know how. ‘Be a force for good,’ one of the characters tells Janet at the height of the crisis, ‘It’s all I can tell you in these times.’ That, to me, is quite a relevant thing in our times, too. Displacement, as Janet experiences, is all around us on a global scale. There is nothing parochial about this tale, which is why it really appealed to me to write about. On that first holiday, I collected everything I could about the incidents of 1841. The best part was that somebody had recently researched the history of the village, local historian Graham Bruce. Not only did I read everything he wrote about the subject, but I also cheekily approached him and asked if he’d read the first draft to check for historical accuracy – and the kind man did! I have still never met him in person. In 2014, I took a day to spend in Ceannabeinne itself. Walking and moving there and assigning houses to the various characters really helped. The Stathnaver Museum in Bettyhill filled in any remaining gaps in my knowledge – I finally felt able to write the book!

I wanted Janet to be feisty, and a real independent spirit, so that modern girls can see themselves reflected in her. In Janet’s society, women really didn’t count for much, and it definitely appealed to me that the women were the ones who defended the village from the first eviction writ’s delivery, overwhelming the Sheriff officer. Of course, this really happened as all the men were away. Janet is caring and loyal, but not afraid of conflict either – just like modern youngsters, she is at odds with teachers and peers at times. I like the idea that a young person can sometimes see what adults can’t. Janet’s impulsive nature has landed her in lots of trouble, but at this crisis point, Janet is exactly what the village needs. We can all make a difference.

‘Be a force for good’ is now what I sign into the book every time a youngster buys one. A good reminder to us all.

World Book Day special - The beauty of traditional typesetting and printing by Jeannie Waudby

The book is finally ready to go to the printer’s, word-perfect and with a beautiful cover. This is where it finally becomes an object that many people can hold in their hands and read. Nowadays typesetting is computerised and printing is mechanised. We are all typesetters, converting our thoughts into letters on our phones and laptops, choosing the typeface we want to use. But let’s have a look at how it worked before computers.

For hundreds of years books or scrolls were written by hand, for example the 7^th century Lindisfarne Gospels and the 9^th century Book of Kells.

 

 

A scribe at work 

 

These books were very beautiful, but only a few people could read or own them so of course they were very expensive.

 

A way of printing from stamps began in China in the 5^th or 6^th century and mass printing from woodblocks in 907. In Europe, woodblock printing goes back into the 14^th century. Each page was carved  onto a woodblock and then printed. This happened in Europe too.

 

 

A woodblock  

 

This made it possible to print many copies very much more quickly, but the process of carving the woodblock was still very slow. 

 

A woodblock print

 

Printing was really revolutionised with the invention of moveable type. Again it was first invented in China in the 11^th century, with individual characters made out of clay, and in Europe in the 15^th century with letters of metal.  

 

 

 Type 

 

When I was young I worked as a typesetter in a printing works that had somehow managed to stay in the nineteenth century.  

 

The frame where the typsetter stands, with cases of type below. 

 

All our type was movable, and to set it we used a stick  

 

A compositor’s stick 

 

The letters sit on little metal shelves called leads to sandwich them together. When a block of text is ready it can be tied up and put in a galley. When the whole page is ready it is all assembled on the ‘stone’ using different sized pieces of wood and metal, called ‘furniture’. Eventually this is all screwed tightly together in a metal frame, the ‘chase’, and can then be lifted onto the press.  

 

 

The forme on the stone, ready to print

 

My experience has been very handy for the book I am writing, which takes place in a printing works in the 1800s. Here is my character’s name, set in capitals with a print from it.  

 

 

When books are printed, several pages are printed on one large sheet and then cut and folded. This is a tool for folding so that the edges are crisp – it’s called a bone.  

 

A bone 

 

The pages could be put together and sewn in bundles before being bound with a cover made of cardboard, leather or cloth. They would then be pressed in a bookbinding press like this one. 

 

 

A bookbinding press 

 

19^th century books were sometimes sold with the edges still folded so that the reader would have to cut the pages to open the book.

 

Modern printing is completely different from the old days of hand or foot operated presses.  

A  hand-operated printing press 

 But we can find traces of the old ways – in the words: upper case and lower case, typesetting, the spacebar on a computer which comes from the old spacers that were put between letters, and most of all, if you hold a new hardback book up to your nose you can still capture the delicious smell of ink.

The Time Tunnellers are five authors who write historical novels for
children and young adults -
Susan Brownrigg, Barbara Henderson, Catherine Randall,
Ally Sherrick and Jeannie Waudby.

Every Thursday we share a new blog article on a different topic
and a youtube video with a writing challenge for young people and teachers.