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Muslim Hands

...If your family depends on you being able to read then you will begin to understand why providing quality education for disadvantaged children is central to the Muslim Hands mission of fighting poverty.

Building schools, training teachers and providing school meals to our 20,000 pupils is a huge commitment costing over £5 million a year. Indeed,

it costs about £228 pounds a year to provide one child a place at school - and that’s where we need your help.

Currently, we are building new schools in Sudan, Niger, Mali, Bangladesh and Pakistan, to name but a few.

Please help us fund 720 new school places this year.

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Assalam alaikum,

When Muslim Hands was founded twenty years ago we sought to find long term solutions to problems facing communities around the world, initiating sustain-able development programmes. In response to the particular difficulties facing Muslims in the UK, we have been facilitating local community based solutions to tackle vital issues such as drug abuse, prisoner rehabilitation and the empower-ment of marginalised women. With schools and youth organisations we have been providing intervention ses-sions for young students with learning or behavioural related issues. The Young Muslim Writers Awards, which we adopted in 2008, gives us the opportunity to raise the standards of child literacy. We want to enable young writers to be the communicators of tomorrow where they can help build a vibrant society. We hope that our work with thousands of students across the UK in our collabora-tion with libraries, schools and youth organisations is a step towards achieving this. We are delighted to be working with the Yusuf Islam Foundation in presenting this year’s Awards, and on behalf of Muslim Hands I warmly congratulate all who entered this competition and I look forward to a bright future for each of them. Syed Lakhte HassanainChairmanMuslim Hands

Assalamu Alaikum wa Rahmatullah (peace be with you)

“A is for Allah, nothing but Allah. Ba is the beginning of Bismillah” My father, Yusuf Islam, penned this song 30 years ago to teach my elder sister, Hasana, the al-phabet and introduce her to the wonderful world of words. More importantly though, it taught her that everything begins with Allah: the First, the Last, the Wise.

What better way to worship and obey our Creator than to occupy ourselves with reading, writing and learning? The first verses revealed of the Holy Quran, with their emphasis on such things, were significant and encouraged a lifelong pursuit of study and personal development. They constitute a direct order for all man-kind to read and learn what we know not. Through this, our awareness of the Magnificence of Allah and the poetry of His creation can be increased and shared with others.

It gives me great pleasure then for our Foundation to sponsor the Young Muslim Writers Awards this year, encouraging and celebrating those who have endeav-oured in these worthy pursuits.

WassalamAsmaa Islam GeorgiouChairpersonYusuf Islam Foundation

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hey say an elephant never forgets. Well, neither did Rehaan, and Rehaan was no elephant. Rehaan was a boy with a hole in his heart and a memory that would make a herd of elephants

look silly. Rehaan remembered everything that he had ever seen, heard, or read. He remembered faces, doorknobs, whispers in corridors, the shape of keys in people’s hands, the pattern of the mosaic on the bedroom floor, the car-reversing sound of each and every car that parked below his house, and all this before he was four weeks old.

Soon, he remembered headlines in papers left around the house and the serial numbers on currency notes that were counted on the bed next to him. He only had to look at something once for it to be imprinted on his memory like a wet footprint that wouldn’t disappear.

Rehaan’s memory was stupendous.

Naturally, his mother had no idea. The only thing that linked her to her son’s astonishing power (about which she had no idea—yet) was her elephant collection. She had been collecting elephants from the time she was a little girl and now she had three-hundred-and-sixty-five elephants, one for each day of the year (excepting leap years). She had tiny porcelain elephants from Thailand, giant stuffed elephants from Canada, marble-inlaid elephants from India, and wood-carved elephants from Africa. They gleamed and winked and cuddled and vied for her attention, those three-hundred-and-sixty-five elephants, and they were also the first thing she showed Rehaan when he was a few days old.

The Archival of Amnesia and Captain Blotto’s Wonder-DrinkT

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‘Look, Rehaan,’ she crooned. ‘That’s Iceberg and that’s Mahout and that’s Captain Crook. That’s Shiraz and that’s Phi-phi and that’s the Wizard of Was. That’s Shibboleth and that’s Stone-face and that’s the Marquis de Pompadour. That’s Scheherazade and that’s Noor and that’s Nishi. That’s Jade, that’s Airawat and that’s Marco. That’s—’

And Rehaan listened and listened and stored the names (all three-hundred-and-sixty-five of them) into his micro-chip brain, not knowing that the names of the elephants were like memory beads, each slipping into place, clicking into place, stringing inside him like twists of DNA, little bursts of chemical reaction, all adding up, all making him into the Archrival of Amnesia he would one day grow up to be.

Later, when Rehaan was three years old, his mother found him giving his little friends a guided tour of the elephants, reciting each name in exactly the same order that she had told them to him, oh so long ago. That’s when she started suspecting that her son was not an ordinary boy. But then most mothers think their children are geniuses, so she didn’t make too much of it either. That’s how sensible Rehaan’s mother was, and that’s probably why Rehaan grew unnoticed into the amazing superhero the rest of the world would know and love him as.

Continued on muslimwritersawards.org.uk

Sampurna ChattarjiSampurna is a poet, novelist and translator with ten books

to her credit and whose writing has appeared in a variety of international publications. She was the 2012 Charles

Wallace writer-in-residence at the University of Kent.

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nce upon a time there lived a little boy called Yusha. Yusha was a kind and helpful boy and because of that he was loved by everyone.  One Eid, his grandmother made him a red kufi.

He loved his red kufi so much that he wore it everywhere he went. So everyone called him Little Red Kufi.

Little Red Kufi lived near a grove of date palms. One day during Ramadan, his mother said, “Little Red Kufi, please take this basket of dates to the mosque, so that people can break their fast.”“Inshallah Mama,” said Little Red Kufi. “I will take the basket right away.”

 “Be sure that you don’t talk to any strangers,” warned Mama. “And please take care to keep your fast.”“Yes, Mama, inshallah!”said Little Red Kufi.Mama kissed him on his head as they said salaam.The mosque was on the other side of the town. To get there Little Red Kufi had to go through the date palms. Near the date palms lived a Greedy Camel. As Little Red Kufi skipped through the date trees, along came the Greedy Camel. “Where are you going, little boy?” he asked.“I am taking this basket of dates to the mosque, so the people can break their fast,” he answered.“Are they tasty?” asked the Greedy Camel.“I don’t know,” answered Little Red Kufi. “I haven’t tried one.”

Little Red Kufi

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“Well try one,” encouraged the tricky Camel.“Sorry, I can’t,” said Little Red Kufi, “I’m fasting.”“But they look so sweet and tasty! Let’s both try one,” tempted the Camel.“Oh no. Sorry, I can’t,” repeated Little Red Kufi, “I’m fasting and now I must be on my way.” “Well, give me your basket,” said the Greedy Camel, “I will take it to the mosque for you.” But secretly the Greedy Camel just wanted to eat to them for himself.“O Jazak Allahu khairan,” said Little Red Kufi. “But Mama asked me to take them to the mosque and that’s just what I’m going to do. But thank you anyway.”The Greedy Camel began to plan how he could get the dates. He ran as fast as he could to the mosque. “Salaam! Salaam!” bellowed the Camel as he pushed open the door of the mosque. “It’s me, Little Red Kufi, I’ve come with a basket of dates so that the people can break their fast!”But there was no answer. The people were busy reciting Qur’an inside and did not hear him. So the Camel peeked his head around the corner. Next to the shoe rack he saw a thobe and a kufi hanging on a hook. Quickly, the Greedy Camel threw on the thobe. It was very tight. Then he put on the kufi, it was very small. Then he waited for Little Red Kufi.After a while, the Greedy Camel heard someone coming through the door.

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Fawzia Gilani-WilliamsFawzia is studying Children’s Literature and Character

Education at the University of Worcester. She has worked on children’s literature projects at the Abu Dhabi

Education Council and the Islamic Fairy Tales project.

“Asalaamu alaikum!” called Little Red Kufi, “I’ve brought a basket of dates so everyone can break their fast.” “Wa alaikum salaam! Come in! Come in!” rumbled the Greedy Camel as softly as he could. “It’s me the imam, I’m in here.”Little Red Kufi looked at the Imam. He looked very strange.“Subhan Allah! Brother Imam, you look so big and huge today!” remarked Little Red Kufi. “I have been eating too much,” answered the Greedy Camel. “But it’s Ramadan, the month of fasting,” replied Little Red Kufi. “How could you have eaten so much?”“O I just eat too much at sahoor and then at iftar,” explained the Greedy Camel. “Please let me try one of your dates,” said the Camel.“But you can’t eat one yet” said the little boy. “It’s not time to break the fast. The sun is still in the sky.”“O yes, silly me! I almost forgot,” said the sneaky Camel.“Subhan Allah!” said Little Red Kufi, taking a closer look at the Greedy Camel. “Brother Imam, what long arms you have!”“Yes, yes,” said the Greedy Camel. “All the better to reach for the Qur’an.”Little Red Kufi stepped a little closer and said, “Brother Imam, what big eyes you have!”“Yes, yes,” said the Greedy Camel. “All the better to read the Qur’an.”Little Red Kufi stepped a little more closer and said, “Brother Imam, what a big mouth you have!”“Yes, yes,” said the Greedy Camel. “All the better to eat those tasty dates you have!” Then he jumped up to grab Little Red Kufi’s basket.Little Red Kufi yelled and ran. Just then the Imam and the men in the prayer hall came running out. They chased away the Greedy Camel.The Imam thanked Little Red Kufi for bringing the basket of dates and warned him not to talk to strangers again.When Little Red Kufi got home, he told his family all about the Greedy Camel.

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oices in my head. Many of them. They compete for my attention, coaxing me to tell their stories. Sometimes a voice rises above the din. Familiar yet intriguing, I listen carefully.

It is often a young voice. I do not know why I am more interested in listening to young people, but that is just the way it is with me. Before I start to think about plot or narrative or setting, before I even begin to plan how a story will take shape, I must get to know my main character. I see it like this. I’m about to travel with him or her– a long, exciting, arduous, intimate road-trip of about six months to two years (involving lots of coffee and chocolate). I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t dream of travelling with a stranger. I don’t mind that I don’t know everything about my character before I start to write. But I need to know enough about them to want to know more, because that, for me, is one of the most exquisite parts about writing. 

There is something altogether magical about the writing process. It is an endless journey of discoveries, and my characters often surprise me and always emerge somehow changed at the end of the story.         

What comes first, the writer or the story? I have often sat in front of my computer, momentarily gob-smacked as I stare at the screen. A scene has unfolded in a way that I couldn’t have anticipated. It is as though I am directing a play. I have read the script and chosen the actors, but when they emerge on the stage they take hold of the story and seem to direct me! It sounds quite silly (maybe even slightly disturbing and you are wondering whether I should give up my day job and instead read tarot cards at a weekend market), but there is a wondrous, joyous, mystical quality to writing which means that no matter how intricate your roadmap is when you start, you know you will be taken in new directions and completely off-course- and

V

Voices in My Head

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Randa Abdel-FattahRanda is a multi-award winning author whose

works have been translated in over fifteen languages and taught in schools across the world.

Her latest work is a four book fantasy series.

that is what keeps me intrigued and passionate and excited about the entire process. I can start to write, confident that I know my departure point and destination, but that the journey in between will unfold in ways I cannot expect. To be a writer is to never lose your sense of adventure and wonder, and, so, write first and foremost for yourself– not because you want to see your book on a shelf or because you want to be ‘an author’ or because you want to ‘change the world’. But because the impulse that drives you is a love of the intricacies of human existence and story. Everything else after that is simply a bonus.

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oggy was a cat who came as Molly, Mol, or Mols;Her owners left her with us

and went on their summer holsAnd never returned.We’d not had a cat before; Google said her make was ‘Persian’The missus quickly (but not quietly) developed an aversion,And wanted her wormed.

Now, I’ll admit I’m no expert in anatomy (sorry)But I’m happy to testify cat-egorically: Molly,Simply put, was a ‘he.’So we immediately dispensed with his silly red bow(And naturally, the female feline name had to go)Hence ‘Moggy’, you see.

Moggy’s life epitomised truly the balanced wayAnd thus accordingly, he habitually divided his dayBetween play and sleep.He’d chase the children, lengths of wool, string, cordOnce tired then, yawn, saunter to the ironing board –Up in just one leap.

Life seemed relentless, exhausting; I decided to suggest aHoliday; (somewhat problematic since our family had gained an extra Four legs and a tail).While Moggy kept us occupied attending to his litterWe scoured the local environs for a willing cat-sitterAlas, to no avail

‘til we chanced upon a cat-loving neighbour. After much flattery,She was persuaded to admit our Persian fluff-ball to her cattery.Ten tails together.Initially, of one another the cats were cagey and somewhat

A Cat, ImmortalisedM

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suspiciousBut eventually – after mutual sizing up and sniffing each other’s whiskers –

Like birds of a feather.

His owners away, the cat did play; our friends ran a liberal abode.At night, Moggy became a familiar sight, at every house on the road.A cool cat, if you will.Sleep-deprived one morn, he watched with a yawn, the filling of a pool.Without enquiring therein, he dived straight in. (Instantly ten times as cool.)Well… he had a chill.

The week flew by; his street-cred at an all-time high,Moggy greeted our return with a discernible sigh.(Had to bribe him home with food).As he scratched at our neighbour’s door, it was clear he was our cat no more(Not to mention the unfortunate present he left us on the floor – I ask you. How rude.)Fearless and free, Moggy diced with death. A neighbour ran him over; he survived,Rolling over five times. He raced into the house, miaowumbling something about ‘nine lives’.Cue impending disaster.Our intrepid puss became suddenly sick. (Possibly something he ate).He seemed to be improving after a course of medication and two long trips to the vet.Moggy died soon after.

You will not fail to have established – no, not by one iota,That poor Moggy tragically overestimated his lives quota.(Approximately two.)

Let us not flout futility in expression of surprise,But know, within these verses, a cat immortalised,Thanks, dear reader, to you.

Jamal OrmeJamal is a British author from Dorset,

England. Teaching opportunities have taken him to Saudi Arabia and the UAE. Jamal is the acclaimed author of The Victory Boys.

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t’s always an enviable treat to judge the Young Muslim Writers Awards, a treat because I get to read the wonderful entries and enviable as I wish when I was a child the YMWA could have been around so I too could have gone on a poetic

escapade. To a place where you can see marshmallows doing twisty gymnastics, taste squashy mushy strawberries, hang out doing counting kung-fu very articulately and follow humongous rainbow rings whilst screaming for the glory of ice cream. Wow, what a fantabulous judging experience!

It was wonderful to read the exploration of similes, alliteration, engaging complex adjectives and phonemes lovingly immersed into the creativity from this year’s young entries.

As a mother of six children under the age of ten I appreciate the importance parents can play in the development of their child’s creative writing. It is wonderful to always see parents attending the YMWA and supporting and nurturing their child’s creative engagement, which naturally paves the way for articulate confident writers of the future.

It is awesome to see the vision of YMWA grow each year and that more and more children are discovering their love for poetry and the art of words, especially considering a backdrop of libraries, the heart of our communities, closing and the onslaught of convergence media raiding our children’s lives. I do hope though that there will not be a time when I will have to explain to my grandchildren that a ‘book’  is a precious artefact working similar to an iPad but made from trees.

I

Shemiza RashidShemiza is a teacher and literacy promotion specialist. She founded the Creative Muslim Network and Shining

Ummah, an award winning children’s performing poetry group, and hosts InspireFM’s The Urban Kube.

Enviable Treat

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eloved, where was I to look but in the mixed beads of ablution and sweat,shrubs growing in the secret peace

between plush grapes and sour grass, the streets meandering into marble squares where pigeons are fedby orphans, where the rich walk shoelesslike innocentson the floor’s mirror, rubbing off

grime. Where was I to lookbut in the beam from the skylightthat first hits the baby in my armsthen the jam jar and toaster, wooden butterfly, yesterday’spepper and paper — all shuddering in their small shadows,standing against our pretense of omniscience. Where was I to findcomfort, beloved, but the coarse prayer

rug of the slaves, the chants of Ya Allah by the swollen-footed, muscled bearers of burdens,where was I to look but the scarcest shadeunder which you sat to eat with them.Your light,one half of the universe’s, cooling their burns —

B

Qasida of the One who Assumed the Posture of the Slave

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And I wait on the straw mat of your companions, hungry for the remaining partsof light:the pen and the tablet—dreaming of all seasas ink,of the enduring quill of java grass,or jade inlay or common chalk— Where was I to look but into the scribe’s heart?

The phone startles a blue jaydeep in dew— I’m cast in a ten year eclipse, beloved.In you a vast coppery desertcalled forgiveness. Stone tied to stomach, thorns in the daily way,your bleeding feet, beloved. The fourth part of light, unbearably hot, quivers still, in your green shade of mercy.

Fourth part of light: “the first thing Allah created was the light of your Prophet from His light, and that light remained (lit. “turned”) in the midst of His Power for as long as He wished, and there was not, at that time, a Tablet or a Pen or a Paradise or a Fire or an angel or a heaven or an earth. And when Allah wished to create creation, he divided that Light into four parts and from the first made the Pen, from the second the Tablet, from the third the Throne, [and from the fourth everything else].” Hadith of Jabir

Shadab Zeest HashmiShadab has taught in the MFA program at San Diego

State University as a writer-in-residence. Shadab is the recipient of the 2011 San Diego Book Award for Poetry

for her book Baker of Tarifa.17

Short StoryKey Stage 1Yusuf and His Adventures to Omra! - Yaqub KheyarEveryone Has a Talent - Husnaa HaffejeeDig to Buy a House - Jamal QadriSelfish Rosie - Maryam ZubbairBrave Blue - Asya Aboukora

“This is a story that maximizes what the format can offer and does so in a youthful, truthful intensely-felt manner.”

Key Stage 2The Great Escape - Ammarah IsmailA Howling Hunt for the Truth - Hiba GorashiRose and the Unicorn - Fatimah Osi-EfaWhat’s the Colour of Your Blood? - Ayra AliThe Feuding Begins… - Fojilun Hussain

“Great feel for atmosphere and emotion. Gets inside the mind of a child and conveys her fear effectively.”

Key Stage 3Wings of War - Amani UddinKon Tum 56 - Maryam GhaniHome - Shama ChoudhuryBlood Red - Summayyah MiahDer Rattenfänger von Hameln - Noor-Un-Nisaa Yusuf

“This is a very accomplished piece of work… attentively written.”

Key Stage 4The Only Wish That Came True - Shaiza AhmedLoose Ends - Mariam HussainThe New Home - Sadia AmjadThe Girl and the Candy House – Uzair Maqbool IshaqThe Fate of Ileus - Fareed Raghdo

“It was quite hard to choose between them all.”

Shortlist2013

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PoetryKey Stage 1Mummy I Love You, and other poetry - Mohamud IssaThe Counting Poem, and other poetry - Eman AlfiresChocolate and Marshmallows - Muryam MohammedIce Cream, and other poetry - Sumayyah H MirzaDear Nemo, and other poetry - Maryam Zubbair

“The poem was imaginative and fun which I enjoyed reading.”“…wonderful descriptive words which worked very well.”

Key Stage 2When the Timber Barons Came… - Malikah KatayefGruesome Menu - Iman UddinImprisoned in a Cage - Aaisha HussainGolden Glint - Huda EmeraanThe Green Rap - Naseema Khan

“The poems are well-crafted with evocative images and a genuine sense of reverence and love… the author is definitely a promising poet.

Key Stage 3Love Sonnets - Aimen TanveerThe Unkind Mind - Amani UddinFreedom - Ayeesha MonksNature - Sumayyah ImranThe Birth of the Prophet Muhammad, & other poetry - Noor-Un-Nisaa Yusuf

“Such a talented group”

Key Stage 4Paint My Life With the Colours of Faith - Sara BelazregueI Have a Dream - Nabeela Dana Perfect Society? - Deksan AbdiGuilty Conscience - Mariyah SeedatOvercoming - Shaheen Sardar

“Lovely to have the opportunity to read these fine young poets!”

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ou can tell things are changing. It wasn’t that long ago children’s fiction was the domain of the white, middle-classed, middle-aged mother and the stories reflected a

world of cream teas and ginger beer. Not any more. With writers like Irfan Master, Anna Perera and Sita Bramachandri I think we’re on the cusp of a new age, a more colourful age, in children’s fiction. I believe the best is yet to come. Not tomorrow. Not in a couple of years but within five for sure, a whirlwind of change will hit children’s fiction. There will be a whole new generation of writers battering down the doors of publishing houses with stories that are brand new, filled with a fresh perspective, and about the here and now of our world. I know that because I’m reading them now, as they begin their careers. I’m very honoured to be one of the judges of the Young Muslim Writers Award. There’s a lot of talent out there and now, day by day, it’s being heard. And the words those young writers put down today will turn things upside down in the future. Things are too normal, too much like everything else right now and that can’t go on. If you’re a young writer and you’re reading this right now, here’s what I want you to do. Keep going. Never let anyone tell you it can’t be done. They say that because they couldn’t do it. You can and will. When it seems too hard and not working, that’s when you push on because that’s when you’re doing it right, you’re breaking new ground, going over the horizon, finding new worlds and words with which to express yourself. Write what you want to write. Write it with all the passion and belief you have because no-one else can do it the way you can. The world deserves new voices. Make sure yours is heard.

Sarwat Chadda

Y

Sarwat is a children’s author, whose writing style specializes in presenting multicultural heroes and protagonists portrayed in adventurous storyline.

The World Deserves New Voices

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o become an author was my childhood dream. I was about eight years old when I decided that I wanted to be as famous as my two favourite authors; Roald Dahl and Enid Blyton. I

couldn’t wait to grow up to become a Puffin author and the dream came true last year when my book ‘Secrets of the Henna Girl’ was published by Puffin Books.

On the 8th of March 2012, on International Women’s Day, my teen book about a sixteen year old British Muslim girl who is being forced into a marriage was launched at the Foreign & Commonwealth Office in London. I have such wonderful memories of that evening but I also remember quite clearly the nerves I felt in the run up to the launch. So many important people from Puffin Books, Parliament and the media were planning to attend and I can tell you that I had many sleepless nights thinking of the speech that I had to give in front of over one hundred people.

As some of you budding writers will know, it’s much less intimidating

A Dream Come True T

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Sufiya Ahmed

to put pen to paper than to speak eloquently in front of strangers. However much to my relief the launch went well and then it was time to leave for my official book tour.

I travelled all over England, visiting individual schools and attending events organised just for me by book festivals and central libraries. It was exciting, fun and also very tiring, but absolutely worth meeting all the young people who were eager to read my book. I signed lots of copies for pupils and answered just as many questions. They all wanted to know about the journey to becoming an author and they all stared at me in shock when I answered that it had taken me nearly twenty years to get published.

‘Why didn’t you give up?’ someone asked me. ‘Because,’ I replied. ‘It was a dream and you must never give up on dreams.’

Sufiya is the award-winning author of Secrets of The Henna Girl and the founder/ director of the BIBI

Foundation, a non-profit organisation underprivileged children’s access to the Houses of Parliament.

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nce upon a time, night had been his friend.Underneath her cloak he would sit and watch the city. If the city slept, night was his comrade and his companion. She was his armchair for reflection, his schoolbook, inspiring him with

lines of poetry and undiscovered treasures of imagination.

And if the city was alive, if she danced to the tunes of a wedding, burst with the beeps and bustle of traffic, winked at him with her lights; she opened for him the doors of discovery, curiosity, and adventure. His heart raced with the music, his feet itched with delight and longing. The shop lights would beckon at him as he pictured chicken on rotating skewers, the knife coming down on them gently. The quick wrap of bread by nimble fingers. Saha- good health- move on. What’s your order?

Often he would sit on the roadside with his friends, wraps shared between them. Meat and yoghurt sauce lingering between their teeth. Pass me your unwanted pickles, fat Hassan would laugh. But most of us liked our pickles anyway. The stones are gathered. Who can flick the farthest? Giggles and banter replaced by concentration. Sharp, successive flicks - the sounds of “chinks” recoiling against the wall. Hassan as usual not getting very far. We gather to survey the

Excerpt from “Night”

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results, negotiate stones, and take our positions once again. Pause, as a family decides to walk past.

This was the night. It was life and bustle, peace and discovery, friendship and comfort. And that night was no more.She had disappeared into history books, stacked away in an unknown classroom. She was a dream no longer sought. Her memories were numb. His eyes did not search for her. His arms did not seek her embrace.

He stood outside in the darkness. A sharp wind tugged against the tents. Stones scuffled beneath his soles, welcoming him with a familiar pierce. The hot air dried the sweat of a nightmare off his face. Around him, behind him, he heard soft sobs, muffled cries, heavy breathing, and an overwhelming silence. The silence of uncertainty, of fear.

The vast sky could have meant endless horizons... but it didn’t. Its twinkling stars may one day have spoken to him, but tonight they did not seem to know him. Its sea of blue could have been the ink of his imagination- his poetry. But all he saw was blackness and rejection.

continued on homeboundblogger.wordress.com

Amal SaffourAmal is the recipient of the FOSIS SOS Syria Short Story award, and was the Vice President of FOSIS

between 2010 and 2012. She has recently left teaching to support the Syrian cause.

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Read to become a better writer. This sounds like ‘’eat to become stronger” and in a way reading is the food of the creative process. Read for all the reasons a reader reads but

also read for inspiration, read to be influenced and read in order to pick up tricks and techniques. Writing in as extension of reading and the quality of your reading will be reflected into your writing. One of the things I enjoy most about living in the U.K., and the thing I miss most when I am away, is the public library. Yes, it is possible to buy books anywhere in the world or order them through Amazon but for me the abundance of library books, the freedom of choice, the knowledge that even if I don’t enjoy a book I can return it at no loss, encourages me to take risks, to experiment and truly expand myself as a reader. My children are tired of hearing me say that they are lucky to have free access to books. When I was growing up in Khartoum, good books were not easy to get hold of and there was no such thing as a public library. Now in Aberdeen I visit the library once a month, I borrow books that have had good reviews in the newspapers, books that I want to enjoy again and books whose covers simply caught my eye. I don’t think I can ever read enough.

Top Tips for Writing3

TIP 1

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Leila Aboulela

TIP 3

TIP 2 Write with love and sharp eyes. Write about anything, what you know and what you’re curious to find out; what you understand and what you want to figure

out. The subject matter doesn’t really matter. What is crucial is your own fascination, your own angle, what keeps you awake at night, those words that can’t stay inside you anymore, those feeling that must to take shape, that scene you’re itching to draw, that journey that needs to be mapped. Write about anything and everything but you would be a better writer if you approached your subject with a generous spirit and the sharpest of eyes. This is a tricky balance. It means that you see both the bad and the good. It means that you try to be fair and honest.

Be willing to re-draft. Put your work aside and then examine it with fresh eyes. You will find weaknesses and mistakes, many things that you want to change. Be willing to edit

and re-write. Share your work with a teacher or family members and friends who are good readers. Listen to their comments. This is not as easy as it sounds. It can be extremely discouraging to get a negative response. But if you are lucky to get constructive feedback from editors or other professionals, listen to them with an open mind. This is because you need readers and you want your work to be read. Take on board the suggestions you hear, but remember that the final judgment is yours. You are the author, after all.

Leila is the recipient of the Caine Prize for African Writing and her work has been translated to

fourteen languages. BBC Radio has extensively adapted Leila’s work, broadcasting it into plays.

27

Established almost two decades ago, Brondesbury College is one of the most successful secondary schools in the London borough of Brent, regularly featuring at the top of GCSE examination league tables. In its recent Ofsted inspection in 2012, it was graded ‘good’

in all seven categories.

THE YUSUF ISLAM FOUNDATIONPRESENTS

BRONDESBURY COLLEGE

The school offers a broad selection of subjects which include English, Mathematics, Science, Qur’an, Arabic, Religious Studies, Citizenship and other national curriculum subjects. All teaching is delivered within an Islamic ethical framework.A wide range of extra-curricular activities, including wrestling, LAMDA, journalism, as well as a

Qur’an & Sunnah club, help contribute to the development of students.

Some of the school’s recent achievements include:

The school also runs a very successful wrestling club and a number of’ the students are gold medal winners at regional and national level. Many of our students have gone on to professional careers in a range of fields, including medicine, law,

engineering and the media.

“The good curriculum and teaching ensure that students achieve high standards throughout the school and make good progress.” Ofsted

“Brondesbury College not only instilled in me the motivation to pursue my studies further, it also provided me with the self-confidence I needed to improve in so many other aspects

of my life. I am so grateful for all the support I received.” Former Student B

RO

ND

ESBU

RY COLLEGE LO

ND

ON

Skills for Life

For application details and further information, please visit our web sites www.brondesburycollege.co.uk - www.yif.org.uk

Since 2009:An average of 95% of students achieved 5 or more GCSEs A* - C GCSE grades achieved are almost double the national average !

In 2011:Brondesbury College won a national enterprise competition to discover entrepreneurs of the future.

In the same competition in 2012: The boys finished 3rd after again impressing the judges with their innovative business proposals.

YIF BC

The thoughts fogged up her mind. A cascade of broken phrases and sentences twirling and whirling and floating, occasionally building up and forming something profound and meaningful before toppling down.

Taking out a pencil and a notebook, she began writing.One by one, she picked up the scattered words that had fallen and watched as they travelled down the grey lead of the pencil and blossomed on to the brilliant white of the paper. She translated her passion and energy into words, giving a form to her immaterial thoughts. A spectacular convergence. The curves and straight lines of the letters stood side by side in silence; yet they spoke. She marvelled at the weight of the words and their infinite capacity.

The patterns continued to flow out of the point of the pencil effortlessly. A sea of words gradually filled the paper. The words were meaningless alone, but together, extraordinary.She had created a medium through which she could intellectually awaken, etch lessons in minds, touch hearts across the world. They were mere designs that had the power to inspire, entertain, bring about a smile, a tear. Educate.

She recalled that the Beloved of Allah was first and foremost commanded to read, as it is stated:

This command was not restricted to his person, but was a lesson to the whole of mankind.

It is through reading that one is able to expand and develop their knowledge. To do so, she thought, those with the ability to write, should write.

We often forget about and overlook the power of words, but in the words of George Byron, “A drop of ink may make a million think.”

Words

Syma Alam

“Read! In the Name of your Lord, Who has created (all that exists).”

[Qur’aan 96:1]

Syma is a second year Medicine student but attempts to keep time for writing as it helps her reflect on her thoughts. Syma is

the recipient of the FOSIS SOS Syria Poetry competition award.

29

Writing Tips

30

Liz PichonLiz’s illustrations for Twillight Verses and Moonlight

Rhymes won the National Parent Book Award in the USA, and her Big Brother Boris won the Smarties Book Prize

Silver Award.

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On Being a Two-Way Mirror

It is both an honour and a

privilege to be addressing you, the young Muslim writers

of the future. I wanted to share with you a few of the things I have

learned in my years as a writer of books for children and young people.

One of the things I have learned is that being a writer is like being a two-way mirror. On the one

hand, we mirror the society around us; we reflect what we see and hear in our writing.

Sometimes, the things we write about make us laugh or wonder or reflect. Then our writing is a celebration of those things. Family. Friends. Heroes. Happy memories. The wonders of creation. Awesome facts and interesting, inspiring people. Allow yourselves to be awed, my dear writers, and never lose your ability to be moved by what is beautiful and meaningful.

Now, at other times, the things we see and hear aren’t beautiful. They bother us and make us feel afraid or angry. Injustice. Cruelty. The suffering and pain of others. This is when you must be brave, my dear writers, and face your fears in order to tell the truth.

But a writer does not simply reflect what is outside – we are two-way mirrors, remember? We also

32

reflect ourselves

in our writing: our

personalities, our ideas, our hopes and dreams. It is this unique perspective that makes our writing one-

of-a-kind, special. Every time we write, we share a piece of ourselves with our readers.

And this is part of the beauty of writing as a form of communication: that brave act of opening up and sharing yourself with the reader. And it does require bravery. Readers know when a writer is holding back, trying to play it safe, hiding. They know because the words have no life: they are hollow. So be fearless, my dear writers, and be true to your voice.

But I have a question for you: is it enough to merely reflect what goes on around us, the good and the bad of it? Well, I believe that as Muslim writers, we have a responsibility to go beyond a simple reflection of the world we live in. We must aim higher. Ultimately, our goal should be to bridge the gap between the reality around us and the ideals we should be aspiring to, as Muslims and as human beings. To inspire hope, to call for courage, to remember our purpose on this earth. It is this consciousness, this awareness of our great responsibility as

writers – to contribute in a meaningful way to our communities and societies – that

should inform everything we write. And I want you, my dear Muslim

writers of the future, to always remember that.

Na’ima B. RobertNa’ima is an acclaimed children’s author, whose novels discuss themes relating to Muslim life. She has published over 15 books

for children and young people, and is the recipient of the Muslim Writers Award and the Children’s Africana Book Award.

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Meet the JudgesAhmed MasoudAhmed Masoud

Anna Miller

Amal Saffour

Ahmed Masoud is an award winning Palestinian writer and academic. In 2011 he won the Muslim Writers Awards for his unpublished novel Gaza Days, and collaborated with Justin Butcher on the acclaimed BBC Radio 4 play, Escape from Gaza. Ahmed has written and directed many stage plays, the latest of which Unto the Breach, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Henry V set in modern day Palestine, was staged at the Arts Depot in November 2012. Masoud completed a PhD research on Arab nationalism and published articles on the subject. His website is www.ahmedmasoud.co.uk

Amal Saffour studied English Language and Literature at Kings College London and thereafter did her PGCE at the Institute of Education. She is the recipient of the FOSIS SOS Syria Short Story competition award. A qualified teacher, she recently left teaching to help the Syrian cause and to devote some time to seeking knowledge. Amal loves and values the power of words, blogging her poetry and reflections at homeboundblogger.wordpress.com, hoping to develop it into something greater. Amal was also Vice President of FOSIS between 2010 and 2012 and has been active in community and youth work in the UK.

Anna Miller works for the library service in Surrey as Stream Lead - Children & Young People. Her team is responsible for the programme of services, events and activities for children & young people in all of Surrey’s 52 libraries. As part of her job she has been involved in the running of the Surrey Libraries Children’s Book Award, and hopes to bring the skills utilised there to judging this year’s entries.

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Fawzia Gilani-Williams

Jamal Orme

Irfan Master

Fawzia Gilani is a writer of Islamic children’s literature. She is studying Children’s Literature and Character Education at the University of Worcester, UK and is involved in the Islamic Fairy Tales Project. She has taught in many countries including the United Kingdom, the United States and the United Arab Emirates, where she currently teaches for the Abu Dhabi Education Council. She enjoys travelling and storytelling.

Irfan Master is the author of A Beautiful Lie, published by Bloomsbury. His debut novel was shortlisted for the Waterstone’s Book Prize, the Branford Boase Award and has been translated into seven languages. Irfan is currently working with the charity, First Story as a writer in residence. Recently, he has been working on a commissioned story to be produced into a stage show and his second novel will be published shortly. Irfan has written for graphic novels and contributed poetry and short stories to various anthologies. He regularly speaks about the creative writing process for young people and adults.

James Orme grew up in Dorset, England and moved to London where he worked as a primary school teacher, embraced Islam and greedily acquired an extra name: Jamal. Educational roles have since taken him to the UAE and to Saudi Arabia, where he currently teaches at a university. At the foot of the desert, Jamal, with his wife and three children in an advisory capacity, has battled a scorpion, fostered a cat, and given refuge to a metamorphosing caterpillar. In April 2010, Jamal hid himself away for a week in his office. When he eventually emerged, he had not become a butterfly, but had completed the manuscript of his first book, ‘The Victory Boys’.

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Leila Aboulela

Ola Laniyan-Amoaka

Na’ima Robert

Leila’s latest novel Lyrics Alley was Fiction Winner of the Scottish Book Awards and short-listed for the Commonwealth Writers Prize. It was long-listed for the Orange Prize as were her previous novels The Translator (a New York Times 100 Notable Books of the Year) and Minaret. BBC Radio has adapted her work extensively and broadcast a number of her plays including The Mystic Life and the historical drama The Lion of Chechnya. Leila is a recipient of the Caine Prize for African Writing and her work has been translated into 14 languages. She grew up in Khartoum and now lives in Aberdeen. www.leila-aboulela.com

Inspired by visits to the local library, Na’ima B. Robert started writing children’s books when her eldest son was a baby. Her ambition was to write beautiful, creative books about Muslim life that would foster pride and pleasure in young Muslim readers. She has since published over 15 books for children and young people, including The Swirling Hijaab, Ramadan Moon and Going to Mecca, and the acclaimed YA novel, Far from Home, winner of a Muslim Writers Award and the Children’s Africana Book Award. She lives in Egypt with her husband and five children and makes frequent visits to young readers in the UK. www.naimabrobert.co.uk

Ola is the founder of the Urbantopia Books, a publishing house dedicated to publishing socially and culturally diverse books. In 2010 Urbantopia was shortlisted by the Independent Publishers Guild Diversity Award and became winner of the Creative Business of the Year Award at the Precious Awards. Ola is also the author of four books, and has recently started writing for screen and stage. Her screenplay ‘Unspoken’ received an award at the 2013 London Independent Film Festival.

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Randa Abdel-Fattah

Sarwat Chadda

Sampurna Chattarji

Sampurna is a poet, novelist and translator with ten books to her credit, and three forthcoming. Her debut poetry collection, Sight May Strike You Blind, was published by the Sahitya Akademi (Indian Academy of Letters) in 2007, and her poetry has appeared in journals including The Little Magazine, New Quest, The Literary Review, Interlitq and others, as well as various anthologies. Sampurna’s writing for young people includes The Fried Frog and Other Funny Freaky Foodie Feisty Poems, as well as Rupture, Land of the Well and Dirty Love, a collection of short stories about Mumbai for older readers. Sampurna was the 2012 Charles Wallace writer-in-residence at the University of Kent, Canterbury.

Sarwat Chadda is a children’s author who writes intense adventure stories using multicultural heroes. His latest series features Ash, a British Asian boy caught up in a millennia old war between mankind and the demon nations. Find out more at sarwatchadda.com.

Randa Abdel-Fattah is the multi-award-winning author of eight novels for children, young adults and adults, and is published in over fifteen countries. Randa’s novels are studied in high schools and universities around the world and she has done numerous TV and radio interviews. She is due to release a four book fantasy series for middle readers.

Randa practised as a lawyer for ten years and recently left to undertake a PhD in Sociology. She is

in the Who’s Who of Australian women and was recently listed as one of the ‘1000 Most Important Women of the Middle East and the Arab World.’

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Shadab Zeest Hashmi

Shelina Janmohamed

Shazia Khalid

Shadab Zeest Hashmi is a Pushcart prize nominee and her book Baker of Tarifa won the 2011 San Diego Book Award for poetry. Her work has appeared in Poetry International, Vallum, Nimrod, The Bitter Oleander, The Cortland Review, Journal of Postcolonial Writings, Hubbub, UniVerse: A United Nations of Poetry, 3 Quarks Daily, and is forthcoming in Spillway, Sugar Mule and other places. She has taught in the MFA program at San Diego State University as a writer-in-residence. Kohl and Chalk is her new book of poems.

Shelina Janmohamed is the author of Love in a Headscarf, a weekly columnist writing for The National and writes for publications like The Times, The Guardian and The Telegraph. She was named one of the UK’s 100 most influential Muslim women. She is the Vice President of Ogilvy Noor, the world’s first bespoke agency for building brands with Muslim consumers. She is one of the Institute of Practitioners in Advertising’s ‘Women of Tomorrow’, noted as one of the future female leaders of the British advertising industry. She is also a committed Muslim women’s activist. You can read her writings at www.spirit21.co.uk, and follow @LoveinHeadscarf

Shazia graduated from the University of Roehampton with BA Honours in Primary Education with Qualified Teacher Status in English, Maths and Science. After graduating, she took up teaching in Pakistan where she taught for the next 10 years and, before returning to the UK, was the Primary Years Programme Coordinator at the British Overseas School in Karachi, Pakistan. She is currently a Key Stage 2 teacher at Iqra Primary School, Slough. In her leisurely time, Shazia enjoys reading thriller novels and has a passion for interior design.

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Shemiza Rashid

Syma Alam

Sufiya Ahmed

Syma is a second year student of Medicine at St. George’s University of London. She studied Islamic theology for many years before her A-Levels. She is interested in teaching and occasionally writes, when time permits, as it allows her to reflect. She is currently very interested in the Arabic language and hopes to study it further in the future. She is the recipient of the FOSIS SOS Syria Poetry competition award.

From breaking a Guinness Book of World Record in literacy, to judging a national Muslim nasheed contest, Shemiza is a teacher and literacy promotion specialist whose love for words and creativity moves beyond the classroom.

The founder of the Creative Muslim Network and the award winning children’s performing poetry group Shining Ummah, Shemiza has taken her passion onto the airwaves by producing and presenting on InspireFM show Urban Kube.

Described as a leading and refreshing voice in community radio, Shemiza can also be heard on a forthcoming release of popular children’s Muslim nursery rhymes CD with Kube Publishing and she can be seen as part of an exciting mainstream television series in the summer.

Sufiya is the author of Secrets of the Henna Girl (Puffin Books) and is the recipient of the Brit Writers’ Awards’ Published Writer of the Year prize. The novel has been shortlisted for the North East Teen Book Award, Redbridge Children’s Book Award, Sheffield Children’s Book Award and Rotherham Children’s Book Award, and translated into Arabic, Spanish and Polish.

She is the founder/director of the BIBI Foundation, a non-profit organisation which encourages the involvement of diverse and underprivileged children in the democratic process through visits to the Houses of Parliament. The fourth book in her Zahra series, Zahra’s Second Year at the Khadija Academy, is released in September 2013.

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She was standing in the shadow of a big house at the corner of a long narrow street which led to a wide busy road, her ripped clothes were stained as she stared at the busy traffic ahead, dust covering the tiny eyebrows, white headscarf looking grey, a cleaning cloth, mixing with her pale skin. Dirt stretched down to the grey top and black skirt she was wearing. The only colourful thing about her was the wide green eyes that were oblivious when a dog came to sniff her feet before his blond middle aged lady wearing thick black sunglasses pulled him away and continued walking. The eyes didn’t flick for a second even though cars reflected the blazing hot sunny rays. She could’ve easily been mistaken by tourists for a statue if it hadn’t been for her arm moving to wipe her mouth then moisturising her thick red lips with her tongue.

Suddenly a small crowd of people passed in front of her, they were carrying Jordanian flags and chanting slogans against inflation and fuel prices. She hurried up and joined the crowd as they walked near the Fifth round about heading for the Dakhiliay Square to join the rest of the demonstrators there. Amina, started repeating what the demonstrators were saying loudly, it felt good to be shouting. She had been on the run for the last three days without any food, the only liquid she had was dirty water from public toilets as she moved from one street to the other not knowing where to go in the big city of Amman.

Amina smiled as she continued to shout, the therapeutic effect was kicking, an ecstatic relief to all her anger. People smiled and shouted louder as they heard her weak creaky voice, it became a competition of who is the loudest. More people joined the demonstration as they continued to walk. Others were standing on their balconies and opening their windows to see what was happening in the street. As they arrived to their destination, there were at least five thousand people in the square, in different masses all saying different things. As if she knew someone there, Amina left her small demonstration and went to join a big crowd of people. She wanted to be less seen, mixing with as many people as possible.

Maybe

42

Despite the loud noises coming from the people, cars, minarets announcing time of prayer, young boys selling chewing gums, she could still hear her stomach growling with hunger. Her right hand immediately touched her belly as if to comfort it and tab it to sleep. “Are you pregnant?” An old short woman wearing a long black gown and a black headscarf asked. She was standing on Amina’s right.“No, I am not, I am just hungry” The old woman looked intensely at Amina as she searched her handbag and got out a small pitta bread sandwich filled with Zaatar, made out of thyme, sesame seeds and mixed with olive oil. Amina snatched it from the woman quickly and started eating. “So are you affected by the increase of fuel prices?”“What?” Amina replied while chewing a big piece of bread. “Fuel prices! Why are you here then?” The old woman was now staring at Amina’s clothes, inspecting her torn sandals and the splinters between her toes and on her heels.

But before she could answer, loud police sirens filled the place, people started to look everywhere to find out where the noise was coming from. Amina, looked around her but she couldn’t see the old woman any more. Suddenly some people started running away shouting that the antiriot police were arresting people. Amina started to run like everyone else, she looked back and could see the Darak arriving in their heavy black vests, shields and helmets. As she ran, a tear gas bomb fell near her. She quickly took her headscarf off and covered her nose and mouth, a tall dark skinned bearded man gave her a look from the corner of his eyes but didn’t say anything as he continued to run next to her.

She remembered how she used to run with her neighbours 11 years ago after throwing stones on Israeli soldiers in Nablus, she was only 19 then. A smile came to her face when she remembered how her mum used to tell her that the only reason she participated in the Intifada was because she didn’t want to go to university. Amina missed arguing with her mum about how important the Palestinian revolution was and how it was the only way for independence and

43

building a free state. Her lips closed together suddenly when she realised that she was now being surrounded by the Jordanian army who started firing in the air to stop people. Someone collapsed; she wasn’t sure whether because of tiredness or whether they were shot.

Amina was now in the middle of a tight circle of antiriot police, she had nowhere to go. A small tear started to fall on her cheek, disappearing quickly on the hills of dust on her face. In the interrogation room, a young officer of about 27 years of age was sitting on a chair in the dark smoking a cigarette. He stood up immediately as the soldiers pushed her in, making her fall down to his feet. She looked up at his round face covered with thick black hair.

Blood was still dropping from her forehead and as she looked up, the salty liquid started falling into her lips but she didn’t dare spitting it out, being at the officer’s feet who bent down and put his hand out for her and helped her up, pointing at the chair. She sat down and watched him as he walked to the corner, threw his cigarette on the floor and stomped on it to put it out. He then poured a glass of water and walked back. The sound of water pouring into the empty glass could be comforting for everyone in her situation, but Amina’s body started to tremble, her head shaking violently as if she was being electrocuted, feet stamping on the floor, chair shaking, liquid dripping out of her lips. She looked like she was having a fit. Startled, the officer took a step back, watching her intently, not sure whether she was acting or she was genuinely in distress. He carried the glass of water and walked closer. Amina stared at it, the closer it got the more she remember how she was tortured in the Israeli prison of Negev from which she had escaped three days ago. The waterboarding, the tap drips at night, the hot liquid she was made to drink and the cigarette butt burns all over her skin.

“Tell me what has our great king done to you to plan a conspiracy like this against him?” He was still too far. As he walked closer the sound of his boots banging on the ceramic floor reminded Amina of the chastising beats. She was afraid, she didn’t know what to do. She thought maybe she shouldn’t have escaped through that dark

44

sewage tunnel of the Israeli prison. Maybe she should’ve stayed at the same place.

Before she said a word, the door opened and another person was thrown into the floor of the room. Amina didn’t look but noticed that they were taking a long time to get up. “Who have got here?” Amina started to cry as she saw the old woman on the floor, crippled, aged 10 years more since their first meeting, headscarf no where to be seen, her old black skirt torn and holey like a spider’s web.

Amina stood up and walked towards the woman as the officer jumped and pulled his gun, fingers on the trigger. “SIT BACK” He shouted at the top of his voice. But she continued to walk and as she got closer to the old woman’s tired body, she undressed her right shoulder and stood still. The officer walked closer and stared at the scars that made her shoulder look more like a roadmap.

“I was in the Negev prison, I escaped three days ago” She didn’t have to say more as he continued to stare at her, gun still pulled towards her face. She was breathing heavily, lips shaking, looking like a tired injured beast. Her eyes were begging him to pull the trigger. But he didn’t, he put his gun away, bent down, picked up the old woman and stood her up. She could barely balance on her two little dusty feet.

“Take this woman away and get out of her, I don’t want to see your faces again” He whispered as he stared at Amina. The old woman grabbed his hand and started to kiss it, thanking him for his mercy. He pulled his hand away and pointed to the door. They hurried to the door as the old woman held hands with Amina.

The door opened, but Amina stood still. The woman shouting at her to hurry up, but she looked back to catch the eyes of the officer staring at both of them and thinking “maybe, I too, should go with them”.

Ahmed MasoudAhmed is the winner of the 2011 Muslim Writers Award

for his unpublished novel Gaza Days. He has completed a PhD research on Arab nationalism. His work encompasses

themes surrounding the Palestinian cause.

45

any people talk of wanting to write a book but they often say they don’t know where to start or what to do. It may seem pretty obvious but the answer to that is to get writing.

Once you have got an idea in your mind, put together a brief plan made up of three sections.

Steps to Becoming a Writer

M

1. How your story will start2. How your story will end 3. A significant event that will occur.

Once you have those three sections you can start building in the other chapters. The different chapters should be made up of all the different events that take place between the start, middle and end.

When you feel like your story is complete, read through it carefully and edit it. Remove some bits, adjust some parts and add some needed sections. Read it again then give it to someone who will be honest enough to provide you with some constructive criticism. Receiving criticism is very hard for many people because they do not always get positive feedback. It is important that you do not take the criticism personally. Instead use it as a developmental tool for improving your work.

Based on the criticism you receive, consider how best to re-edit your work. Take your time when editing your work because you may find with each day new ideas will pop into your mind.

47

Ensure you edit your work at least three to four times. Proof read it and ensure the number of basic errors are minimal.

The hardest part of your writing journey is finding someone to publish your work. Do some research on the different publishers that are available. Try to find a publisher that publishes books similar to the one you have written and make sure you check their submission policy.

Ola Laniyan-AmoakaOla is the founder of Urbantopia Books,

shortlisted for the Independent Publishers Guild Diversity Award and recipient of a 2013 London

Independent Film Festival prize.48

The wonderful thing about being a writer or an artist is that you can just ‘be’ one.

You don’t need anyone to employ you or direct you; you can simply pick up a pen and a piece of paper and start.

You don’t need to follow any writing tips or trends; you can write the way you want to and find a way that works for you.

You don’t need to write about this world; you can invent a whole new one, with new forms of life and new systems of organisation.

You can write at a desk, up a tree, in bed; with words, with pictures, with stage directions, with cut out shapes.

It’s a strange feeling of wonder and excitement and freedom and creativity and love for what you do, all rolled into one. My best advice for you is: remember this feeling.

Remember it because a career writing books can be tough. The reality is you will need to be able to pick yourself up after rejections (and there will be many, even for the best writers.)

Remember it because you will need to stay true to your values; your characters; your story. That doesn’t mean you should never be flexible – yes, be open to all changes and all ideas, but remember what is at the heart of your book. What story do you want to tell? What is your message?

Just Be

50

Remember it in the years to come, when you get bogged down in plot outlines, in contracts, in commerciality. You started writing because it is fun; so don’t forget to take time to play. Write that story that you think might never be read, draw out the thumbnails for that picture book that no one seems to like. Remember: you started writing for you and you never know where any idea might take you.

Remember the world you wanted to create – think carefully about your characters. Make them real; living and breathing, whether they are humans or goblins or rabbits. But be tough on them – have the strength to challenge them even if you love them. What is their worst fear? What is their darkest secret? You may need to destroy their dreams and then help to rebuild them.

Above all remember what you love about books, and what you loved as a child. Think of the books you wanted to read when you were younger, or the book you want to read now. Don’t lose the love.

I wish you all the best for your career ahead – it’s challenging, but it really is wonderful and exciting and free and creative and lovely, all rolled into one.

Abie LongstaffAbie is an established children’s author with

numerous titles to her name. Abie writes for a range of publishers, including Random House and

Scholastic. You can visit her website at abielongstaff.com and read her writing tips at

picturebookden.blogspot.co.uk

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Congratulations to all the talented young writers who have been recognised for their great work! It’s nice to see so many of you producing such high quality creative writing at a young age, and I encourage you to continue doing what you’re doing to help inspire other young writers. Keep working hard and success will follow!

Mo Farah2012 Olympic 5000m and 10,000m Champion

The interests of all young people are at the heart of everything we do at Pont Books, a small imprint within Gomer Press, the largest publisher in Wales. Our name means ‘bridge’ and that’s what we aim to do: bridge all the cultures for young people in Wales and beyond. Our identity is very important to us but we understand that there are lots of different ways of being Welsh and expressing that identity. To young Muslim writers, who also come with a variety of identities and backgrounds, we are delighted to send our message of support!

Gomer Press

Kube Publishing congratulates the Young Muslim Writers Awards for creating such a wonderful platform to showcase a new generation of literary talent with the potential to inspire and delight readers of all faiths and none. All the writers who have taken part should be proud to have picked up the pen and started writing.

Kube Publishing

Messages of Support

K

PUBLISHINGKUBE

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Atlantic Books are proud to support the Young Muslim Writers Awards. We hope that this project succeeds in encouraging young people to be creative with reading and writing.

Atlantic Books

Khayaal Theatre Company conveys its heartiest congratulations to all of the shortlisted candidates for the Young Muslim Writers Award. Your imagination is an asset. Your creativity and stories are dream nourishing and life affirming. Stories make the world go round and good stories unite and inspire people to reach for and attain their highest potential. Well done to you all.

Luqman AliArtistic DirectorKhayaal Theatre Company

Emerald Network since the inception has been a supporter and promoter of the arts within the Ummah. We are delighted to see the Young Muslim Writers Awards continue to develop and recognise the creative talent whom we hope will inspire the young Muslims to pursue their passion for pleasure and even as a profession later in life. Congratulations to all entrants, finalists and to the teachers and parents for their encouragement.

Rooful Ali FounderEmerald Network, UK’s longest established Muslim Social Network for Muslim professionals

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The Young Muslim Writers Awards is an excellent and much needed venture to encourage our youth to reveal the great depth of creativity and skill they have to offer our society. By providing a platform for budding young writers and artists, they are be-ing provided with the opportunity to excel beyond their imagination and abilities. Our Islamic history is awash with the world’s most famous poets and writers, and it is commendable that the Young Mus-lim Writers Awards is helping to revive, cultivate and celebrate what has always been a proud com-ponent of Muslim culture and heritage.

Mohamed AliCEOIslam Channel

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