A few nights back I woke up from the weirdest dream.
A wizened old woman knocked on my door. When I opened, she introduced herself as Enid Blyton and asked whether I knew Les Noble. I replied that I did, he is one of our authors.
Hearing this, Enid handed me a thick, A4-sized, double-spaced manuscript: Could I please inform Les that the project is finally completed; here is the final “Forest Circle Quest”.
I stood speechless, trying to figure out how to tell this famous author that Forest Circle Quest is already published and was completed by Les himself, two years back (during which time I had the honour of being able to give and collect feedback from young readers – all good). We’d have to rename her project to something else. Why was she not publishing her book under her own name?
She replied, somewhat downcast, that nobody wanted to publish her these days, mostly as a result of her deplorable condition; so she was reduced to ghost-writing.
I’ve had some time to think about this dream.
Do you remember when you were a kid, reading all those Enid Blyton books? She was phenomenal (and it’s a bit unfair to criticize someone from a previous era based on today’s political trends – it wasn’t like that!). Most of all, her plots moved; her mysteries were really mysterious, her child protagonists were true heroes, her “terrible twins” were really inventive, things happened in her books. That’s what we loved her for. Even Noddy and Toy Town are highly active adventures.
Leslie Hyla Winton Noble is an author with a similar potential. His books, aimed at children but funny enough to entertain adults, have that magic element (though politically appropriate for today’s world). Enid came to let me know this.
… kalinking away…