The Dinosaur that Pooped a Planet
Tom Fletcher & Dougie Poynter
This is one of my new favourite things of all time. McFly / McBusted fans will know that the gang are talented song-writers, but this step into children's literature has shown that they are also simply brilliant wordsmiths.
Danny and Dinosaur embark on an adventure into outer space, but, despite mum's advice, they haven't yet had their dinner. So when Dinosaur gets up amongst the spacemen and planets, he gets awfully peckish and finds himself craving some rather unusual tummy-fillers; the result of which is a rather full stomach that might just need relieving.
The illustrations by Gary Parsons are brilliant, especially considering the material with which he is working (i.e. a pooping dinosaur). It is not as crude as you might expect, and I actyually think that the silliness of the story is what makes it even more appealing - you can just imagine your child giggling as you read it together.
But the story is my the best thing - mainly because I madly decided that the dinosaur must be based on Harry, with Dougie and Tom being the authors and Danny being the name of the other main character.
And it rhymes, in some places rather creatively. Like all good things targeted at children, there are lots of things in this book to tickle parents, or anyone else who fancies a fun read.
I am so happy to be in a world where this book exists.
Saturday, 21 March 2015
Sunday, 1 March 2015
How to Build a Girl
I had almost neglected to write this review, seeing as it has been so over-reviewed already, but when I saw a friend reading it and laughing all the way through, I felt the need to offer my thoughts.
All those who know Caitlin Moran know her story by now - a clever girl raised on a council estate who lands a teenage writing prize and goes on to blag a column in The Times. Moran insists that How to Build a Girl is fiction, but it is hard to distance this novel from her own reality.
But it is not the plot of this novel that I want to celebrate, rather the little snippets of hilarity that are simultaneously completely familiar and obsurely unique. The teenage self-consiousness that convinces Johanna Morrigan she is singularly responsible for her family's poverty. The misreading of social convention that makes dressing solely in black seem like the best idea, and her mother's concern that she is acting like a dark crow that has decended upon the household. The naivety that allows her to have so much sex and so few orgasims.
Whether or not you like that fact that Moran seems to only write about one thing, you cannot deny the fact that she is honest, realistic and frankly hilarious.