Launching the Launchers, by Georgie Tennant

I wonder how many of us take inspiration for our writing from the everyday lives we live: the people we see around us and the situations we find ourselves in. 

I have heard Wendy Jones joke, before, that people who irritate her on trains become fair fodder to be bumped off in her next crime novel.  I, myself, often drift from the moment I am in, pondering what great blog posts I could write from overheard snippets of conversation or situations that have arisen.

As a teacher, much fodder for writing arises, daily in the classroom.  I hope you will humour me whilst I share a couple of my favourites from nearly two decades in the classroom.

The two memories that still amuse me most, both involve unfortunate mispronunciations – one, a student’s; the other, mine.

The first was a Friday-period-five Year 8 lesson, early on in my career.  Together, we were working our way through the lengthy ballad, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” James (we’ll call him that for preservation of dignity) was selected to read.  Loudly and clearly he intoned, “And through the drifts, the snowy cliffs did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken – the ice was all between.”

Except.  Instead of “beasts,” he said “breasts.” 

I had a nanosecond of wondering whether to let it pass, unnoticed, before I realised this was a wild hope; the whole class were falling off their chairs, hooting.  I gave up and joined in.  Thankfully, “James,” saw the funny side and still remembered it fondly when he left at the end of Year 11.

My mirth at another’s expense came back to bite me, years later, in a class of Year 9s at a different school.  As I attempted to read aloud to the class, the phrase “thorny hedge” tripped off my tongue as “horny thedge.”  The class sniggered.  We could probably have moved on with my dignity almost intact.

Except, for some reason, it really tickled me.  I began to giggle.  Uncontrollably.  In my own lesson.  One kind fourteen-year-old boy offered mercifully, “Miss, would you like me to continue whilst you compose yourself?”  I took him up on his offer, desperately trying to think of anything that would stop my shaking shoulders and schoolgirl sniggering.  Teaching is not for the faint hearted!

I have had the privilege, this week, of receiving an advance copy of Fran Hill’s wonderful new memoir, “Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean?” which tells similar stories, diary style, covering a year of her life as a classroom teacher.  There is something so wonderful about getting a glimpse into another teacher’s world, and finding it so similar to one’s own.  Somehow, reading it, I felt less alone in my struggles with teaching and more able to laugh at its quirks and celebrate its brilliance.

She doesn’t just stop at funny stories though – through the memoir-diary style of her writing, there is much deep and honest writing, too, as she allows the reader a glimpse into some poignant moments – both her own and those of the students in her care.  I finished the book, wishing I had been a pupil in one of her classes.

Why am I saying all of this here, on this blog?  I was moved by Deborah Jenkins’ post last week, by the plight of authors trying to launch their books during lockdown. It made me want to help in any way I could.  It’s hard enough, cutting the ribbon on your novel and letting it set sail into the big wide yonder. In the current climate, it must feel like the odds are stacked against success even more. Perhaps, I hoped, by telling some silly stories of my own and whetting your appetite, I might give a new book a small boost, that helps put a bit more wind in its sails.

Perhaps by sharing this post, far and wide, tweeting and retweeting about the book as the launch approaches this week (Thursday 21^st) you could help put some wind in its sails too.

And don’t stop there.  We’re an encouraging bunch in the ACW.  Our fellow authors are currently launching their work into especially stormy seas.  Particularly here, particularly now, let’s join forces to give their wonderful work the very best chance of making it to their hoped-for destinations.

(If you want to even further and buy a copy for yourself or a teacher in your life, or indeed for anyone who might appreciate a warm and witty read, here is a link for you! https://spckpublishing.co.uk/miss-what-does-incomprehensible-mean).

Georgie Tennant is a secondary school English teacher in a Norfolk Comprehensive.  She is married, with two sons, aged 11 and 9 who keep her exceptionally busy. She writes for the ACW ‘Christian Writer’ magazine occasionally, and is a contributor to the ACW-Published ‘New Life: Reflections for Lent,’ and ‘Merry Christmas, Everyone,’ and, more recently, has contributed to a phonics series, out later this year. She writes the ‘Thought for the Week’ for the local newspaper from time to time and also muses about life and loss on her blog: www.somepoemsbygeorgie.blogspot.co.uk