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.

Build it up, build it up, build it high…

Mankind is myriad in its forms. There are the bold, the brave, the meek, the mild, the lonely, the lost, the beloved, the boastful, the humble, the athletic, the academic. I could go on. But like some colossal, invisible Venn … Continue reading

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That’s Not My Mother

Something odd happens in the summer. Something I feel uneasy about. Something that, come July, I am really not sure I can cope with, yet somehow, by around this time in August, I have managed to drag myself through (albeit … Continue reading

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Little White (Ham) Lies

Lying is an art. As a child, I had yet to perfect this. To learn to tread the fine line between screeching fib (“It wasn’t me, it was LARRY THE LAMB”) to potential truth (“It wasn’t me, it was JAMES.”) … Continue reading

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Bonnie Scotland

Remember when I said I was going to be at a famous book thing in Scotland a while back. Then I had to hastily retract that statement for fear of self-imploding by the end of the sentence etc? Well, now … Continue reading

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The Greatest Show on Earth

When I was about eight, so Nadin legend has it, I turned to my father, whilst watching Derek Griffiths perform Fagin in the Plymouth Royal’s production of “Oliver!” that “that” was what I wanted to be when I grew up. … Continue reading

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Here comes (more) trouble

No more sleeps! It’s publication day for Penny Dreadful! This time her BRILLIANT IDEAS™ include turning over a NEW LEAF i.e. sawing Bridget Grimes in half, making a cake that is cooked with LOVE (and organic things and a plastic … Continue reading

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‘Cheekbones like geometry…’

There are countless songs inspired by great works of literature. Pink Floyd’s ‘Animals’ (Animal Farm), and Dylan’s ‘All Along the Watchtower’ (Frankenstein) for starters, while The Smiths’ ‘Cemetery Gates’ name checks a whole anthology of poets. But does it work … Continue reading

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When John Hughes closes a door…

There’s a line in Paul Murray’s high school epic Skippy Dies that, on first reading, is less a lightbulb moment and more like being hit over the head with a giant hammer of the blindingly obvious, and, on subsequent examination, … Continue reading

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These books will save your life

OK. So that’s a slight exaggeration. What I really meant to say was “these books will make you laugh / cry and thus fill an afternoon that would otherwise have to be spent nodding as Auntie Felicity shows your 400 … Continue reading

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Back to the start…

So, it’s New Year. And there’s the usual rash of ill-thought-out resolutions and promises e.g. I absolutely will use that pink step machine I bought in a fit of crisp-induced madness for at least fifteen minutes every day. But for … Continue reading

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