Aya is a Syrian asylum seeker, looking after her mother and baby brother in the cold, unfamiliar city of Manchester – but she is also a talented ballet dancer. Aya must look after her mother and brother. Her father asked her to as they struggled to survive when their inflatable migrant boat was upturned in a storm off the coast of Greece. Bundle of 11 short reading comprehensions with questions using the language of the SATs tests. They are ideal for revision. Largely they focus on inference, retrieval and providing evidence for answers. Catherine talks about the inspiration for ‘Following Frankenstein’ and reads from the opening chapter Confessions of a Helicopter Mummy

A handkerchief reminds her of the journey to the refugee camp in Turkey, of being shut in a container for three days, of the freezing cold in the camp, of not enough food to eat.A shell from the beach reminds her of the boat trip across the Mediterranean in the storm, of the boat capsizing, of the last time she saw her father. Bruton states she wants her readers to see beyond the label of 'refugee' and 'asylum seeker' and in No Ballet Shoes in Syria, she has succeeded in generating compassion, empathy and understanding. Aya's hopes, dreams and fears are the same as her peers, yet she carries another layer of sadness and trauma as she seeks to make sense of her past. Bruton skilfully draws us into Aya's life; past, present and future but without being 'preachy'; Aya is a girl, just like you or me. Thank you to Catherine for her hugely insightful blog post, it’s really interesting to see how writers can be influenced by the books they surround themselves with. I never knew about the term 'asylum seekers' let alone ever heard of it. But when Aya explained what it meant, it left me feeling so ignorant and wanting to know more about the people that had dealt through and is going through this everyday. I just assumed that everyone were refugees and I was wrong. It is heartbreaking that there are so many families out there who has no choice but to run away from everything just to live a peaceful life. There has to be a way to end their suffering and waking up everyday going through a war zone. How many people needs to suffer? How manh more children are they willing to risk it all? Its unfair and it needs to stop. Immediately. Sometimes I was jealous of the monster of Frankenstein. I grew up believing my father cared more for him than he did for me. And was I wrong?

John Boyne is under fire for daring, as a white Irish gay man, to write a children’s book about a trans child. Catherine Bruton, the author of this novel about a Syrian refugee with a passion for ballet, clearly expects to get the same treatment and has felt compelled to write a defence of her actions at the end. I’m sorry I’m not a refugee, but this is important, kinda thing. Personally, I wouldn’t give the time of day to those who think you have to be Noddy to write a book about him... but there we are. When I was eleven I adored Noel Streatfeild’s Ballet Shoes and Pamela Brown’s The Swish of the Curtain, and was so fixated on Lorna Hill’s Sadler’s Wells ballet books – each of which I had read at least ten times – that eventually my mum decided enough was enough. She prised my tattered copy of Veronica at the Wells out of my hands and gave me a pile of new reading material, which included The Silver Sword, When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, and The Diary of Anne Frank. That was when I discovered that there was a new kind of book to love – stories that could open your eyes, change the way you saw the world, make you ask questions, expand your horizons, enrich your soul – switch on lightbulbs in your head! Object number three might introduce a character who can help your hero/heroine achieve their aim – along with some tools that might enable them to overcome the obstacles they face.

Publisher

Highly recommended for mature readers of 9+, this story contains emotive descriptions of the refugee journey, familiar to most adults but alien to most youngsters, and tragic events occur. Two things that make us human are art and sport, and ballet is where those two things converge. When I was writing Watch Her Fall, a thriller about two rival ballerinas, I began with the basics: textbooks to learn the technical stuff; the big biographies. I was greedy for the ballerina’s routine, the rhythm of her day, the shape of her childhood. No Ballet shoes in Syria is the gripping and thought-provoking story of Aya, an eleven-year-old girl fleeing with her family from the war-torn city of Aleppo. I am very obviously not the target demographic for this book but I read the synopsis on my library app and thought it sounded interesting, and it was short enough for me to get through in a single sitting so 🤷🏾‍♀️ why not!

I read the author's note and discovered she was influenced by the same books I had growing up: Noel Streatfeld's Ballet shoes, Kerr's When Hitler stole pink rabbit, and the Sadlers Wells books (I possibly have read these all about 50+ times each!) ... and I felt a kindred spirit flutter! 🤗Winner of #BooksAreMyBag Award for Children’s Fiction 2019, The Middle East Children’s Book Prize 2020 and the Cheshire Children’s Book Award 2020 In No Ballet Shoes in Syria, eleven-year-old Aya is a dancer. Her head full of dreams of ballet, music and her wonderful teacher, Madame Belova. She is also an asylum seeker. Recently arrived in Britain from Syria, she and her mother and baby brother find themselves entangled in the complex asylum process - passed from pillar to post, without anywhere to really call home. Her mother is depressed and young Aya feels responsible for looking after her family - a promise she made to her beloved Dad when they were separated on the journey to Britain. Object number four will probably signal the climax of your story (the great battle, the big chase scene, the night of the prom, or the grand final of the competition…), whilst object five will help you weave your way to resolution (which doesn’t have to mean a happy ending– just a tying up of ends. Do you win the battle– lose the race – catch the villain – kiss the boy on prom night– and what are the consequences? Where and how does everyone end up as a result?) When I discussed the idea with my editor at Nosy Crow, we were both conscious of the difficulties of writing about events that are happening now – complex, potentially troubling issues that we would be asking young readers to confront without the distance of history. I have a quote from one of my favourite writers, Alan Gibbons, above my desk: “I never enter a dark room unless I can light the way out.” That’s what I wanted to do – to confront difficult issues, in a way that didn’t offer glib solutions or whitewash the truth, but which did offer the consolation of hope.