Kita Mitchell

We didn’t have a telly when I was growing up, so I read a lot of books. Authors seemed to have such exciting lives. I particularly admired Ariadne Oliver, who had loads of money and spent all her time at 1930’s house parties.

I did attempt a novel in the early days (Dystopian boarding school adventure set in 1980’s Stevenage) but soon realised the ‘writing’ part of being a writer required an awful lot of effort. I concentrated instead on comic-verse, which was fun, and didn’t take as long. Every now and then, the local paper would print one of my works in exchange for a postal-order. (Kids of today looking blankly at each other there.)

Postal-orders were never going to pay a mortgage, though, so I put my writerly ambitions to one side and became an animator, then a lecturer.

In 2001, about to leave work for maternity leave, I was hit by a joyous thought. No more nine to five! This would be my moment. I could resurrect my dream. I would write while my child slept!

Four non-sleeping babies and not a single word written thirteen years later, I decided to get my act together. It was now or never. I applied for an MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University – and there - once over the disappointment of being told the comic-verse market was already cornered – I started to write, properly.

It all went far better than expected and I am now an official author. Though I haven’t been invited to any house parties yet.

I wrote Grandma Dangerous and the Dog of Destiny while on the MA in writing for Young People at Bath Spa. After graduation, the first chapters of everyone’s manuscripts go into an anthology, which is then sent out to agents and publishers.

I hadn’t spotted ‘FORTUNE-TELLING DOG’ on anyone’s wish lists, so I wasn’t expecting my story to generate much interest. When several agents asked to see the full, I got into a right flap. I’d been busy moving house and had slacked off a bit on the ‘finishing of the manuscript’ – which, by all accounts, is quite important when submitting.

As agents are scary I didn’t want to admit it wasn’t all polished and ready and awaiting their call so I pretended I was away and then spent three days frantically re-doing the dodgy bits.

Once I’d sent it off, I assumed I wouldn’t hear anything for ages - but Kate, from The Viney-Shaw Agency, e-mailed me back almost immediately. She said lots of nice things about my book, and offered to represent me.

I’m always suspicious when things seem too good to be true, but when I met her in London a week later she was definitely a real agent. Not only was she wearing a pashmina, she was brandishing a contract WITH MY NAME ON IT. The excitement!!!

All the advice says you should take your time deciding who to sign with – but I didn’t as Kate was really funny and generally fabulous and also, she bought me a very large cake.

When I told my youngest daughter I had a book deal, she said ‘Really?’ and looked incredulous. (Not in a good way)

She also said, when I mentioned school visits. ‘If you come to my school, I’m taking the day off.’
Hey ho.

I can’t really answer that as I had hundreds of favourites. Little House in the Big Woods, Lindgren’s The Brothers Lionheart. Emil and the Detectives by Erich Kastner. The hilarious Australian series Bottersnikes and Gumbles. Eric Linklater’s The Wind on the Moon, Beverly Nicolls’s The Tree that Sat Down. Father Christmas by Raymond Briggs, The Painted Garden by Noel Streatfeild… I could go on and on. We always used the library so I never owned any of them. Many years later the internet was invented. It was perfect for tracking down out of print books. So now I own them all. Yay! (on behalf of my children, obviously) And yes, they are all still my favourites.

To be honest, I’m surprised I manage to write anything at all.

I have four daughters - three teens and a tween. They are very needy. The things they need are important, of course. They would not dream of interrupting otherwise.

Snacks, money, lifts, nail-glue, cakes for the cake sale that afternoon, someone to pay for the pizza, a signature on a form they lost three weeks ago that is due in school yesterday, an opinion on their latest piercing. The list is endless. Their needs intensify if my study door is shut.

(The only thing they don’t need is advice. Funny that.)