Author Archives: Joanna Nadin

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About Joanna Nadin

A former broadcast journalist and special adviser to the prime minister, since leaving politics I’ve written more than 80 books for children and adults, as well as speeches for politicians, and articles for newspapers and magazines like The Guardian, Red and The Amorist. I also lecture in Creative Writing at Bath Spa University, and hold a doctorate in young adult literature. I’m a winner of the Fantastic Book Award and the Surrey Book Award, and have been shortlisted for the Roald Dahl Funny Prize, the Booktrust Best Book award and Queen of Teen among others, and twice nominated for the Carnegie Medal, for Everybody Hurts, and for Joe All Alone, which is now a BAFTA-winning and Emmy-nominated BBC TV series. I've also worked with Sir Chris Hoy on the Flying Fergus series and ghost-written Angry Birds under another name. I like London, New York, Essex, tea, cake, Marmite, mint imperials, prom dresses, pubs, that bit in the West Wing where Donna tells Josh she wouldn’t stop for a red light if he was in an accident, junk shops, crisps, Cornwall, St Custard’s, Portuguese custard tarts, political geeks, pin-up swimsuits, the Regency, high heels, horses, old songs, my Grandma’s fur coat, vinyl, liner notes, the smell of old books, the feel of a velveteen monkey, Guinness, quiffs, putting my hand in a bin of chicken feed, the 1950s, burlesque, automata, fiddles, flaneuring, gigs in fields on warm summer nights, Bath, the bath.

Undertow

Undertow began on a blistering August day on the cliffs above Loe Bar in Cornwall, notorious for its riptides and dangerous currents. But as summer turned to bleak midwinter, and I watched a friend dragged down by the weight of … Continue reading

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Eden

Mostly I write funny. It comes easy to me – making people laugh has always seemed to make up for any lack of appropriate clothing, political knowledge, or ability on the hockey field. But I don’t always read funny or … Continue reading

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And Then I Kissed Him…

As I try to blaze a trail but, more often, wander slightly baffled and damp-squib-like through life, I leave behind me an oddly-shaped wake of skills tried but not mastered: the guitar aged 11 (I wanted to be Joni Mitchell), … Continue reading

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Boys. And books. And boys in books.

  Like my alter ego Rachel in My (not so) Simple Life, as a teenager I fell in love frequently, swiftly and with absolute conviction. Unlike Rachel, I never had to swear off boys and their complications and contradictions, or … Continue reading

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The ten signs of ageing

Originally posted on Joanna Nadin:
Am in state of mild shock. Apparently there are now ten signs of ageing. TEN! I was just about coping when Oil of Ulay (along with a Neanderthal hairline and a tendency to gingerness, I…

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Funny girl

I have always “done” funny. Both as a reader, and a writer. As a child, I snorted through every page of every Dr Seuss, laughed until I cried at Russell Hoban’s inspired creation Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strong in her iron hat … Continue reading

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Trapped wind (or is it a novel?)

I hate it. I can see it in their cheap-Chardonnay-dilated eyes when I’m introduced at parties or pubs or political drinks things. “A writer, really? I’ve always thought I had a novel in me.” “Gosh I say, smiling. Well you … Continue reading

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Writer’s block (or not)

Amongst the questions I am most often asked by journalists and small children (along with “Do you like Eastenders, miss?” and “Can I be in a book, miss?” and once “Was you in Les Miserables, miss?”) is the million-dollar “What … Continue reading

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Dedication’s what you need… (and a clicker, apparently)

So, got up, ate porridge, corralled angry small menace into school uniform (disappointment at having to go to school dressed as schoolgirl, not Katherine Parr, due to Ofsted swooping in and causing cancellation of World Book Day), set new world … Continue reading

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The Life of Riley

I never wanted to be a writer when I grew up. That is to say, it didn’t occur to me that writing was a “real” job, much less one that I would be capable of, or derive enjoyment from, my … Continue reading

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