Pasila Library's water feature

I was given a lovely tour of Pasila Library last week (which has this stunning water feature). It’s Helsinki’s main library with almost 200,000 items, including materials in over 100 languages which can be sent all over Finland to other communities. Pasila Library does a particularly good job of supporting immigrants who are learning Finnish and about local culture.

I was very impressed with the whole library, but especially the children’s section, which had an excellent selection of books in English and many other languages. Many older Finnish children read in English, which I find pretty astounding, and there is plenty for them to enjoy here. The children’s area is decorated with quite a few animal sculptures and one very pretty water spirit. There is also an activity room where children come to paint and even to knit while they are read to by the librarian.

The library takes an active role in inviting young children to become library users, creating brochures, invitations and games that encourage them to visit. They even produced a high-end sticker game showing cartoon characters using the library.

The tiger is one of many sculptures in the children's department.

Many thanks to the enthusiastic librarians for showing me around and giving me some of their very interesting materials to take back to Scotland. And you can see a few more pictures of the library’s sculptures here.

Mural at Estonian Children's Literature Centre by Jüri Mildeberg

I recently traveled across the Baltic Sea to Tallinn in Estonia and found not only a beautiful, atmospheric medieval city to explore, but a fantastic children’s book centre and library in the Old Town. The Estonian Children’s Literature Centre was established in 1933 and its archive library collects children’s books and periodicals in Estonian and published in Estonia, world classics in children’s literature and awarded books in their original languages, reference materials on children’s literature and illustrations from children’s books. It maintains an information centre and performs research on Estonian children’s literature, as well as organising conferences, workshops and lectures. It also runs major projects such as the Young Reader’s Choice Awards, exhibitions and creative competitions. To get a sense of what Estonian children’s books are like, click here.

I was impressed from the start by the Centre’s permanent exhibition by one of Estonia’s foremost children’s authors and illustrators, the late Edgar Valter. He was a self-taught artist who is well-loved by Estonians. Not only were there examples of his illustrative work but also his paintings, which I thought were gentle and luminous. There was also a showcase of current award-winning Estonian books, which had a distinctive look.

The Centre’s library is comprehensive and very welcoming. The librarians showed me various Scottish books in the collection, just some of the many foreign editions they collect. We climbed upstairs and took in a wonderful exhibition of Russian illustrators’ work in the stairwell. This show, The Water of Life, features many artists’ interpretations of Grimms’ fairytales, and while I didn’t like every piece, I found most of them lovely and beautifully rendered. On the next floor there is also a comprehensive exhibition on the history of Estonian children’s books, including beautifully decorated stools to use in the space.

The back of each seat is unique

The real magic of the Centre began, for me, in the lecture space. Each chair was decorated with a unique chair cover made by an illustrator. There were also gorgeous shutters covered with murals by Jüri Mildeberg. This grand space was made even more special by these original designs.

But perhaps my favourite area was the top floor, with its relaxed reading and activity area for children. The walls are covered with stunning murals by Piret Mildeberg and giant wooden puppets. To see photos of these, click here. There were showcases full of puppets and dolls, many from Russia. I wish I could have documented every painting on the walls, because each was amazing. I felt very inspired by the Centre and would love to spend more time there and in Tallinn!

Shutter mural by Jüri Mildeberg

Villa Kivi

Villa Kivi was renovated by the Kivi-house Foundation, which was founded to improve the working conditions of writers and to facilitate contact with their readers. The house has 14 workrooms for writers, a library, a festival hall and Lukukeskus, the Finnish Reading Centre, a bi-lingual centre for the promotion of reading on a national level. This being Finland, there is also a sauna for ten people!

I was lucky enough to meet with the Executive Director of Lukukeskus, Anu Laitila, who gave me an overview of how the Reading Centre supports author visits into schools and publishes book review magazines for children, young people and adults. I was very impressed with the support the Finnish government gives to writers, not least the stunning Villa Kivi. Anu was also very helpful in helping me set up an upcoming visit to a Finnish school.

Moomintroll!

When I was leaving the villa, I couldn’t resist snapping of photo of a slightly melancholy Moomintroll, from Tove Jansson’s Moomin books. The Moomins and their author are national treasure in Finland!

The next day I was pleased to meet Literature Officer Päivi Haanpää, who has been a pivotal part of setting up the programme that brought me to Helsinki, and well-known author Eppu Noutio for tea at the famous Kappeli cafe. We talked about everything from Scotland to social networking and once again, I was delighted with their warm welcome and special gifts of books and music.

Matias at the helm

On the same day I was excited to visit the Finnish Children’s Bookshop, which is only a few months old. Owner Matias Saarni is an energetic and dedicated advocate of children’s books and art, as evidenced by his sensitively designed shop. He has collaborated with Kuvittajat, the Association of Finnish Illustrators, to present exhibitions by contemporary artists in one part of the shop.

Exhibition area

I was heartened that Matias’ business is growing and thriving as customers discover his shop. I was also interested to see that there were hardly any titles in paperback. Finns seem to prefer their children’s books sturdy, even though it means the prices of books are high. It’s not unusual to see a picture book for 19 Euros.

Table for little readers.

One of my favourite aspects of the shop was this bridge to the reading area in the window. Yours truly will be in that reading area doing a Special Event on Monday, so stay tuned to find out what it was!

The bookshop bridge..

The view from Suomenlinna

The fog lifted and the sun came out this morning. For the first time, I saw Helsinki under crystal blue skies and realised how close it is to Suomenlinna. Helsinki is a low-rise city. The Russian Orthodox church pictured next to the two Viking Line ships is one of the tallest buildings on the skyline. I watched the trucks loading onto the ferries bound for Stockholm and could actually hear the clanks and bumps from across the water.

The quay at Suomenlinna

Suomenlinna is one of the quietest places I’ve been in some time. There are only a few cars, which one hardly sees, and the loudest noise I’ve heard is the toot of the ferry horn as it passes nearby. But over the last two hundred years, as a Swedish and then Russian military fortress covered in cannons and fortifications, it can’t always have been so quiet. I climbed around the shoreline, enjoying the warmth and listening to the crunch of the sea ice breaking up. I was intrigued by dark tunnel entrances and windows in stone walls, but left that exploration for another day when the snow and ice recedes a bit more.

Fortifications and cannons

Even Suomenlinna Church, built as a Russian Orthodox garrison church when Finland was controlled by Russia, has old cannons forming an eccentric fence around it. The church doubles as a lighthouse for sea and air traffic.

Suomenlinna is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It’s such a great privilege to be here, attuning myself to the island’s rhythms and watching it shed its white winter coat day by day.

Suomenlinna Church

The Tammi Golden Books jubilee exhibition at the Children's Book Cafe at Annantalo.

The cafe is light and airy, with a giant walk-in book and nicely presented spreads on the walls, plus a carpeted reading area with soft furnishings. I had a funny feeling of deja vu while I was looking at the illustrations. I grew up with Little Golden Books and there are plenty of Finnish editions with internationally-known characters I recognise. The artwork has a gentle “retro” feel and yet there is something timeless about it.

A peek inside the giant book in the display.

Unfortunately there wasn’t anyone available to speak to about the exhibition, which I would have liked to do. I wondered what some of the commentaries next to the spreads said, but in the end the illustrations were eloquent enough!

Some of the artwork from the books.

My next stop was the famous Academic Bookstore, which has a fantastic collection of books in several languages. If I were living in Helsinki, there would be no shortage of English-language books to choose from in this flagship store designed by Alvar Aalto. I was attracted to three small towers made out of the covers of old books. One had electric lights inside and another had paintings on one side. When I asked whether I could photograph the installation, I was told I should come back in an hour when the person who’d made the towers would be there himself.

An hour later the bookstore was packed. Because I don’t understand Finnish, I was not sure what the event was. A quartet of men in tuxedos was singing on a small stage next to the installation. Then a guitarist accompanied a jolly man with a flute who sang a ditty in English. The next thing I knew that flutist was seated onstage being interviewed about his children’s books. I had admired one of the books earlier because of its striking illustrations – and here was the author. He turned out to be Esko-Pekka Tiitinen and the book is The Drops of Life, which will be published in the USA on April 1.

Did I get the photo of the three towers? No. There was too much going on, too many people. But I didn’t mind. I’d been in Helsinki for less than 24 hours and I’d already seen an interesting exhibition and attended a lively book event in a “happening” bookstore.

Children's author Esko-Pekka Tiitinen with his installation at the Academic Bookshop, Helsinki

UPDATE! Serendipity intervened over the past week and Esko-Pekka contacted me out of the blue. It turns out he’d been invited, as one of a group of Finnish authors who appeared at the Edinburgh International Book Festival last August, to meet me while I am here, but wouldn’t be able to make it. Instead he invited me to come and photograph his installation at the Academic Bookshop and here he is in front of my favourite painted tower. The bookshop asked him to create the installation, which is made from old water-damaged books, as part of their 150 year anniversary. That’s what all the musical entertainment was for last time I was there.

We had a good chat over a coffee and cake, comparing notes about what we do. Esko-Pekka’s been writing for many years and has had the good fortune to collaborate with both his sister, Tuula, and his 23 year old son, Nikolai, who both make beautiful illustrations. I was struck by one of his comments about Finnish children’s books. He had observed that they were darker than books from the UK and Japan, for example, and were more like books from Poland or the Czech Republic. This was perhaps because eastern European countries had lived in the shadow of the USSR and the stories and art reflected this.

Esko-Pekka gave me four lovely books to take back to the Scottish Book Trust and, of course, we got the mandatory snapshot in!

Esko-Pekka and me

The other nice news is that I’ll be getting a little guided tour of the Children’s Book Cafe next week. I’m sure this will give me a great insight into how the cafe came about and where it is headed.

Ice on Suomenlinna waterway

I haven’t quite caught up with the fact that I am now in Finland.

I learned just over two weeks ago that I had been selected for a Helsinki International Arts Programme residency and it felt slightly unreal. The Scottish Book Trust, who are administering the two new residencies for Scotland-based children’s writers, pulled out all the stops and rapidly got everything set up for my arrival. I packed my gear and said goodbye to the daffodils, knowing I was unlikely to see any in Helsinki yet.

Just before dusk last night, I flew in over tall birch forests and snow fields. There was something mysterious about the landscape. It definitely seemed like a place where trolls might roam. I made my way to the city centre, with its wide avenues and majestic buildings, and waited for the ferry to my temporary island home, Suomenlinna. The small boat ploughed through ice sheets in the harbour as the darkness set in. I tried to put all thoughts of the Titanic aside…

Helsinki is gradually coming out of winter and the ice is changing every day, I was told. Earlier this week there was none in the harbour but it returned in time for my arrival. I feel lucky to be able to watch spring tiptoe in here.

The small Suomenlinna ferry next to a huge one bound for Sweden.

One of my friendly hostesses greeted me at the Suomenlinna dock and we crunched over icy paths, under old arches and past huge rough-hewn walls, sometimes encountering the fragrance of wood smoke when we turned a corner.

I was shown to my toasty-warm quarters in a two-hundred year old brick building with huge wooden doors. This is the place where I’ll be working on my next book and keeping a log of all my discoveries in Finland. I’ll be learning about the local literature scene from writers and publishers, visiting bookshops and museums and getting immersed in Finnish culture. And what about the language, you might ask? I’ll try to learn as much as I can while I’m here. I’ve got a few phrases down already, and though everyone I have met so far has spoken good English, I think it’s not only polite but also important to “taste” the host language wherever I go. And the number one word is, of course, kiitos – thank you!

My Blackhope Enigma shoes

It’s been October 2011 on this blog for far too long. Yes, it’s already five months since I posted after The Crimson Shard launch. Those months have been a whirlwind of travel, book promotion and planning the next project.

I’ve been from Bangkok to Boston and some other lovely places in between. I toured around West Sussex twice, speaking to avid readers and enjoying the wonderful countryside. Last week I attended the Scottish Children’s Book Awards (in these shoes), for which The Blackhope Enigma was short-listed, and saw a scene from my book performed live by talented young actors from the Lyceum Youth Theatre.

I am incredibly thankful for my creative life right now. There are several very exciting things happening that I will be revealing here soon. The top news is that I am writing a third book in the series that started with Blackhope. This will round out the series into a trilogy and I find that immensely satisfying. When I first set out to write a novel, I had no idea that it would evolve into a sequel and then another. The whole thing has happened organically. Each of the books can stand alone and yet they have links that pull them together into a whole.

After having written two books featuring Sunni and Blaise, my teenage characters, it’s great to be telling the next part of their adventure together. And it’s just as much an adventure for me to find out what they are going to do next!

In spite of rain and wind, a great crowd of well-wishers joined me on 1 October to celebrate the publication of The Crimson Shard, the follow-up to The Blackhope Enigma. I was pleased to see old and new friends, artists, librarians and teachers among them. Lindsey Fraser, of Fraser Ross Associates, gave a lovely introduction and I did a short reading. It was a fantastic send off!

(Photos by J Jamieson.)

Next weekend’s Artists Open Studios event coincides with the publication of my second illustrated historical fantasy novel for age 9+, The Crimson Shard, published by Templar Books. I’ll be opening my studio and displaying original paintings, drawings and limited edition prints, but I’ll also be taking time out to read from The Crimson Shard in the Gallery area of our building. These will be short tasters and will take place at 1pm and 3pm. Both The Blackhope Enigma and The Crimson Shard will be on sale and I’ll be signing them, of course! If you can’t make it to the Studios this weekend, but would like to read a sampler or buy either book, click here.

Click here for information on how to find the building.

Clooties tied to trees on Doon Hill

It started as a typical forest walk in the Stirlingshire countryside. We passed the Old Kirk cemetery (of that, dear reader, you shall hear more close to Hallowe’en.) and set off past a few houses towards a path leading up the wooded mound that is Doon Hill. I have always wanted to visit because of its strange legend. A seventeenth-century clergyman, the Reverend Robert Kirk, is said to have either died or disappeared there after conducting lengthy research into the fairies that he believed lived on the hill. His spirit is said to reside in the ancient pine in the background of my photo (left).

As we climbed, we noticed the dirt path glittered with silver and purple metallic fairy silhouettes that previous visitors has strewn. This was just the start. After the short climb we arrived in the clearing at the summit and found all the trees and many bushes festooned with clooties, strips of cloth covered with handwritten wishes.

A clootie branch

Clootie wells and clootie trees are a fascinating part of Scotland and Ireland’s Celtic heritage. I couldn’t help but be touched by the variety of cloths tied to the trees and tiny talismans tucked into the moss.

Pilgrims had left letters in sealed plastic bags, half-burned candles, scraps of paper wedged between branches. The place was alive with visitors’ hopes and intentions. And even the mass-produced fairy figurines placed there seemed to have developed individual personalities.

One or two of them looked almost sinister in their hideaways of dead leaves. Under the green canopy of trees, the air was still and we felt far, far away from the town, which was only a fifteen minute walk away. We decided to head downhill along the same path we had climbed. But it became clear we were on a different path when we got to the bottom and found a grassy crossroads.

We agreed that we should turn right and set off. We came to a bend in the river which was so quiet and dark, I thought it was a pond. There were no footprints in our path, only hoof prints, and the reeds grew taller and taller. We could no longer see the town or hear traffic. Suddenly we turned around and saw that we had left Doon Hill behind. It loomed on the horizon as dusk began to fall. I wouldn’t say I panicked, but I felt distinctly odd. There was that slight ‘Blair Witch’ sense of having consulted the map, known where to go and still ended up someplace one shouldn’t. The idea that a fairy horse would come swooping down and take us away to meet Queen Mab would not have been out of place.

We quickly turned back. The hill took shape on our left and it felt like we were being watched by a thousand eyes. When we got to the crossroads, it was obvious that we were just a few paces away from the main path back to town. Somewhere behind us, the owners of those thousand eyes were laughing at us.