Booker Prize Winner in the Making

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Meet my nephew Caleb. Caleb is five, almost six and he really loves books. Last year he discovered Roald Dahl and absolutely devoured as many Dahl books as he could get his hands on. Reading aloud to him is one of my favourite things to do as I’m always reminded of how my parents, and some of the amazing teachers I’ve had the pleasure to sit under, (right up to university), really brought literature alive when they read aloud to us.

On Sunday Caleb called me up to tell me that he’d written his first book. It’s a Christmas story about an Elf and he’s now read it aloud to me, very proudly three times, (though he’s adamant that it’s a work in progress and not quite finished yet; already he’s picked up writerly habits, insistent that the next edit will be the last). I asked Caleb if the book was going to have illustrations and he said, “only two because there are so many good words I want to write down.”

I’m really blessed and proud to be his aunt and also challenged to get on with writing this novel, seeing as Caleb is completely right, there are indeed, so many good words I want to write down.

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