It’s 1994, and the Scholastic Book Fair had been unleashed all over your school hall.  This is Nirvana for all young bookworms – who are soon parted from their not-so-hard earned pocket money.

I am no exception.

This time I buy:

The Mennyms by Sylvia Waugh.

My reason for buying it is simple: 

  1. It’s about dolls – I like dolls.
  2. The cover is blue – I like blue.
  3. It’s £2.99 – I have £2.99

Then I read it.

It was amazing.  I couldn’t tell you why.  The story was good…and it was a good story about dolls.  I devoured the sequels.

Then, a few years ago – I did something after finding it at the back of the bookshelf – I re-read it.

This book is phenomenal.

So much of it went over my head as a child.

It’s a book about pain and grief, hope and love.  It has qualities so much adult literature lacks (like a well rounded characters).

Don’t believe me?


How many kid’s books do you read where a blue rag doll ends up in a church, praying to a God he doesn’t even believe in, because his twin sister has gone missing? 

Also – one of the characters has an Accrington Stanley Mug. Enough said.


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