The Rainbow Library Basildon 2022 Nottingham by LeftLion

Basildon & Nottingham

Project 1

The Rainbow Library copyright © Pop Up Projects 2022 Text and illustrations copyright © Beth Risidore, Dex Legon, Molly, Miggy, Agnieszka Sokolowska, Aitana Gonzalez, Callum Roome, Courtney McPhail, Kyle Hutchinson, Lolitsluan, Sara Jakubcova, Charli 2022 Cover illustration © Molly 2022

Basildon & Nottingham

First published in Great Britain in 2022 by Pop Up Projects CIC, 5 City Garden Row, London, N1 8DW www.pop-up.org.uk The moral rights of the writer and illustrator have been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Pop Up Projects CIC

Sometimes you just need reminding of the things that make you feel good.

Kit And Company

Contents

Spell The Vibes Beth Risidore

Party Cryptid Dex Legon

Genesis Molly

The Sleepover Miggy

I Like You Agnieszka Sokolowska

The Invisible Boy Aitana Gonzalez

Blossom Callum Roome

Dear Pippa Courtney McPhail

Nebulous Kyle Hutchinson

Kit And Company Lolitsluan

117

Amethyst Heart Sara Jakubcova

135

You’re My Escape Charli

144

What is The Rainbow Library?

145

Meet the Authors

149

Meet the Course Authors

Lolitsluan Read now

A spectrum of LGBTQ+ stories from Basildon & Nottingham Throughout 2022, Pop Up delivered creative workshops across the UK and Ireland as part of The Rainbow Library – a groundbreaking LGBTQ+ inclusive children’s literature creation and publishing project. Sixty young people attended workshops across seven cities led by established LGBTQ+ writers and illustrators to develop their storytelling and illustration skills. In Nottingham and Basildon, aspiring graphic novelists and comic book writers undertook an intensive storytelling residency where they learnt the core building blocks of visual narratives. Through playful drawing sessions, learning to observe their lived environments and how to experiment with composition, the aspiring artists and writers developed their own comic books under expert supervision. Inspired by the workshops, Fantasy writer LD Lapinski and comics artist Fred Lanka collaborated on a sportsthemed graphic novella, and comics artist, Bex Glendinning, developed a comic book exploring found families; whilst providing the participants with expert one-to-one guidance on their own creative practice. This anthology showcases their work and highlights some of the very best illustration and writing in the young LGBTQ+ community across England. We hope you enjoy their work!

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Spell The Vibes Beth Risidore

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Spell The Vibes

Beth Risidore

‘In my defence I was left unsupervised.’ Sighing loudly, he just took another sip, waving his hand for them to continue. ‘Okay, so obviously I found that book, the one that was all over the darknet–’ ‘You mean witchtok,’ he interrupted to which they looked at him annoyed. Why did they look annoyed? He’s the one who should be annoyed! ‘Yeah, whatever, same difference,’ they held up the book for him to see, ‘so I found the book at the library, checked the spell and gathered the few ingredients we’ll need so I’m thinking we should do it tonight because that’s when spells always work best, right? Oh, and I invited Tia as I remember reading stuff about three being a witchy number.’ ‘I guess there’s no point in me trying to argue this?’ ‘Nope,’ they replied. He knew how badly they wanted a girlfriend so, like fair enough. Yes, using an old magic spell to find one was a bit dramatic but at this point nothing Sam did ever fazed Rafe. The fact that it was also Halloween made it even more dramatic, but it did fit the witchy vibe rather well, so he couldn’t complain (ignore his prior complaining). Rafe placed his glass of water on the side and finally took his school bag off his back, placing it on the cold, hard, kitchen floor. He imagined for a moment what it would feel like to step on it without his shoes and socks and then decided it was better for his mental state if he didn’t.

The fog in the sky and the mist on the windows really added to the Halloween vibe this bus had going on. Or maybe the cobwebs in the corners were unintentional decorations. Regardless, Rafe kept away from them as if they were some sort of poison. Glancing to the top of his phone screen at the pop-up notification he’d just received, Rafe gasped, almost dropping said phone. u know what you told me not to do,,, well yeah i might have accidentally done it ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he cursed under his breath. Rafe shouldn’t have been surprised about it since they also impulse cut their hair about once a week, but at least allow him a moment to be vaguely disappointed. I can’t believe you, he typed out, well actually I can, but I don’t want to. Rafe sat for a moment looking out the bus window as it neared the stop closest to Sam’s house and about fifteen minutes from his. Before they could send another message, possibly trying to defend their idiotic actions, he wrote out his own. I’m coming round in like five minutes, please whatever you do, wait for me before you create an even bigger mess. sure thing was the speedy reply he saw as Rafe got up to press the stop button and then hurry down the stairs. He stood at the doors until they pulled up at the bus stop, thanking the bus driver as he jogged to Sam’s house. He knocked on their door and waited as he listened to them running into the hall. A second later the front door was wide open, and Rafe was staring at their grinning, slightly guilty face. ‘Hi, fancy meeting you here,’ they said. ‘I hate you,’ was his only reply as he stepped past them walking straight into their kitchen. ‘Nah, you love me,’ smiled Sam and he couldn’t exactly disagree. Rafe poured a glass of fizzy water from the fridge. Then he leant against the worksurface glaring and waiting for what was bound to be an interesting story.

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Spell The Vibes

Beth Risidore

Rafe walked out of the kitchen and towards the door, smiling slightly at Sam’s screeched goodbye, closing the door with a firm slam. He regretted not having an extra layer as the wind blew harshly against him but, then again, perhaps regret was a fickle feeling and it’s not like he could change the past. The shops were only ten minutes away and in no time he was pushing the door open to a jingle of bells. Rafe breathed in a relaxed sigh as the warmth instantly heated him up. He then slowly made his way over to the crisps and popcorn section, picking out a bag of sweet and salted popcorn (the best in his opinion) and some salt and vinegar crisps (why Tia liked them he would never understand). Finally, he grabbed a few different sharing bags of chocolate and sweets – all which would most likely be gone by tomorrow. He paid quickly and shuffled back out into the cold, thinking about how hungry he now was, when an old lady knocked into him. Or perhaps he knocked into her; it was so sudden. Placing his bag of snacks on the floor, Rafe jumped up and held out a hand to try to help her back up. She grabbed on with a fierce grip, her wrinkled hands seeming much warmer than his. ‘Thank you, young sir, it’s very kind of you to help me up,’ she spoke slowly, her eyes glazed over, hands shaking ever so slightly. ‘Don’t thank me, it’s my fault for running into you,’ Rafe said. ‘I should have been paying more attention to who’s around me.’ ‘Well, we are both fine, so no harm done.’ She smiled at him in a friendly way and he felt compelled to smile back. Rafe was picking up his bag ready to go off again when the woman called to him. Her eyes were no longer glazed over and instead of the smile her face carried before it had become more of a grimace. ‘Be careful tonight, won’t you, young one. Spirits this time of year can get restless fast. They’ve always said they fear water though, so keep some of that on you and all shall be well.’ Rafe paused, tilting his head marginally, quite frankly a bit concerned. Then he took a step away from her before turning around to ask the question he’d been thinking – what the fuck? But when he looked back the old lady had disappeared. The door into the shop didn’t even look like it had just been opened. Weird, he thought, and then he continued the trek back to Sam’s. Once he got back to Sam’s, still feeling a number of emotions due to that old lady, he relaxed slightly bringing the snacks into Sam’s lounge and stealing a blanket from one of the five they had draped over themself. ‘Hey!’ they exclaimed to which Rafe, maturely, stuck out his tongue. Just as he was starting to get comfortable on the worn, brown sofa, the doorbell went. ‘That’s probably Tia,’ Sam said, making no move to get up from their spot on the floor. Rafe decided it was best to let Tia in, then let her freeze to death on the doorstep due to Sam’s stubbornness to get up when perfectly comfortable in, some may say, too many blankets. He pulled hard on the door and as it creaked open it revealed Tia’s smiling face. ‘Hi Rafe,’ she said, stepping past him to walk into the lounge where Sam was bundled up tight like a burrito. Rafe sighed to himself, content to finally relax. And then remembered the supposed spell they had planned for later. He sighed again. He felt like he would be doing that a lot in the coming hours. ‘What about Coraline? Or Corpse Bride? Ah or we could watch one of the Scooby Doo films!?’

Sam was on one of their Halloween movie rants again, it seemed. Rafe was content to watch whatever, as long as the other two would enjoy it. He rarely watched films and when he did he always ended up becoming distracted by something or other. ‘Hm I’m feeling more of a Ghostbusters vibe,’ hummed Tia, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. What was it with these two and preferring the floor over a perfectly fine sofa? As was the theme of the night, Rafe sighed to himself and took back his seat, tugging the stolen blanket across his chest as it had previously laid. Before he knew it a random ghostbusters film had been put on. Surrounded in a warmth that was as much the blanket as his favourite people in the same room as him, Rafe fell asleep to the sounds of popcorn being munched and ghosts being captured.

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Spell The Vibes

Beth Risidore

With a gasp, Rafe woke up to Sam grinning, standing above him. They looked almost giddy with excitement and it was clear the reason why. ‘Rafe! You’re awake!’ Rafe wished he could fall back asleep. ‘It’s nearly the perfect time,’ they continued, ‘Tia and I have been setting out the ingredients and stuff.’ Rafe yawned, stretched his arms over his head and resigned to getting up. ‘Perfect time?’ ‘You know midnight. Halloween. Perfect time for spells and ghost summoning and magic!’ He didn’t know. But he’d found it worked best when he pretended that he did. Rafe gave a reluctant smile and waking up was almost worth it for the smirk he received from Sam. He had to admit, the set-up was quite impressive. Where there had been a pile of blankets and random cushions chucked around, that reflected the remains of a semi-violent pillow fight, now laid a circle of candles surrounding a ceramic bowl. This bowl had been filled with what looked like water, and floating around in it were the different herbs Sam had acquired earlier. And to finish it off Sam pulled out a classic witch hat, the kind you would find in the Halloween aisle of a local Poundland. ‘No,’ Rafe said, once his brain had caught up to what they were planning, ‘I refuse to wear a witch’s hat.’ Somehow Rafe ended up wearing the witch’s hat. Which was unfair because neither Tia nor Sam were. How had he ended up with the short straw, he wondered to himself, as he took his place in the ‘summoning circle’. Not his words, definitely not his words. Sam sat to his left and pulled the spell book into their lap, flipping to a page marked with a bright orange post-it note. ‘Tia, could you light the candles, please.’ Starting from the furthest away, Tia lit all five candles. Rafe was glad Sam had decided not to be the person responsible for fire or he was sure at least one thing would be burning that certainly should not have been. ‘The book says to write what we are looking to summon on a piece of paper and then place it in the bowl. Here is one I prepared earlier,’ they grinned, mocking the types of kid’s art shows that seemed to live perpetually on TV despite the decade. Sam chucked a piece of fancy lined paper into the water.

For something as dangerous as a magical spell that Rafe didn’t particularly know how trustworthy it was, ‘well enough’ didn’t seem as reassuring as he was sure Sam would have hoped. But oh well it was too late now. ‘Let’s get this spell on the road!’ Tia cheered and Sam replied with a whoop. And then they began. Once, twice, the words flowed around them as if following some unseen trail in the air. Rafe had to admit, if only to himself, that there was some sort of magical feeling to this chant – this spell as a whole. As soon as it had begun, it was over. Rafe didn’t even realise he had been holding Sam’s hand until they let go and a sudden chill passed between his fingers. The room was quiet. An eerie wind blew through the room and two out of the five candles went out. Then nothing. Tia looked between Rafe and Sam. ‘Well that was a bit anticlimactic.’ ‘It should’ve worked,’ Sam said, confused, eyes reflecting how Rafe would imagine a sad puppy should look. The furrow in their brow would almost have been cute, if the circumstance for why it was there wasn’t so concerning. ‘Maybe it just takes a little time to work,’ shrugged Rafe. He felt slightly relieved. A ghost would not have been the kind of complication he needed in his life right now. ‘Yeah.’ Rafe hated the downcast look on their face, however, it faded slightly to make way for a small smile. ‘You two can stay the night anyway. My family is out and it’s too late to leave at this point.’ Rafe smiled back at them and stood up. ‘How about a midnight feast first?’ It was the sort of Sam idea that he would never have endorsed but for one night and one night only, it seemed the best course of action. They could try and fix the spell tomorrow, maybe even do it again. Something in Rafe though, was protesting at ever having to do another spell. Anyway, what did Sam need a girlfriend for? They already had him, wasn’t that enough?

Rafe decided that was enough stirring of undecided usefulness to the spell and put the spoon down. ‘Finally, all we have to do is chant the phrase ‘ad vitam veni spiritus vocamus te’ ten times.’ It was clear from their pronunciation of the chant, Sam was a language student. They made the harsh sounds of Latin seem easy to pronounce, but Rafe who somehow managed to get a pass in GCSE French, knew it wouldn’t be as easy for himself. ‘Is the pronunciation a key aspect of the spell or...’ ‘As good as you can get,’ they smiled, ‘there’s three of us so hopefully together it will work well enough.’ 12

Stretching his arm above his head, Rafe yawned out loud before walking slowly into the kitchen. It had been a long night, after the spell had failed, they’d had their midnight feast and then decided to go to bed, but he couldn’t fall asleep. He felt there was something missing and his thoughts were so muddled there was no option for him to switch them off. He must have fallen asleep at some point though and now he was awake whilst the other two were still asleep in the lounge. He grabbed the kettle on his mission to make a nice hot cup of coffee – in the hope of waking himself up a little – when he felt another presence in the room. Expecting it to be Sam or Tia, he continued his walk to the sink. ‘Where am I?’ asked a voice, confusedly. Rafe jumped back out of shock, more awake than any amount of coffee could ever get him. Stood before him was what could only be described as a ghost, all shimmering clothes and slightly transparent body parts. ‘What the hell?!’ he said looking at the ghost, wondering if it was a hallucination from too little sleep. ‘And who are you?’ the ghost asked, clearly as confused as Rafe. ‘What’s going on–I’m so–’ he mumbled incoherently trying to get his tired brain to work and then it clicked, ‘the spell!’ Rafe raced down the kitchen away from the ghost and towards his friends. ‘Sam!’ he screamed into the lounge. ‘Tia! Come quick!’ He hurried back into the kitchen after having heard their groans, the signal they were no longer asleep.

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Spell The Vibes

Beth Risidore

He wanted to check the ghost hadn’t disappeared and they hadn’t. They were in the exact same place as confused as they were seconds prior. ‘If you could be so kind as to explain what in the blazes is going on–’ ‘Rafe – what is it?’ Sam asked, sprinting into the room faster than he had seen them move quite probably ever. They then glanced over at the ghost. It was becoming clear to Rafe now that the ghost was some kind of girl from the Victorian era, with the way her dress was poofy like he’d seen in the period dramas Tia forced them to watch. She seemed to shimmer though. If he looked away for too long it was hard to picture where she had been, only a slight refraction in the air allowing this idea of her to exist in his mind. Quite frankly, it was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. ‘Oh my god it worked! It actually worked!’ Sam grabbed Rafe’s hands and started dancing him around in circles. In his mind it was a bit of an overreaction to a ghost who seemed just okay but at least they were happy now. ‘I can’t believe it actually worked,’ said Tia, though when she had walked into the kitchen he didn’t know. He’d been distracted to put it simply. The ghost shook her head, frowning slightly, ‘I have still not been informed of what is going on!’ ‘Ah! Okay... so my name’s Sam,’ they said, pointing to themself, ‘that’s Rafe and that’s Tia, ‘and we summoned you using a spell book!’

[End chapter 1]

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Party Cryptid Dex Legon

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Party Cryptid

Dex Legon

It was 17:04 pm on October 31st of my 15th year that I first noticed it. I was in front of my bathroom mirror, trying to rub some wax into my unruly hair for the party, Rhea yapping away from my tinny phone speakers, when I hit a swollen-up spot on my hairline with my finger. It felt like a bruise. I raised my mop of hair off of my forehead and got a good look at the lump. It looked about as sore as it felt, slightly red, and hot to the touch. The skin that wrapped around whatever-it-was looked tight, almost like it was about to burst. ‘Rhea, look at this,’ I said, picking up my phone and showing her in the camera. She was midway through pinning up her second space bun, but she froze and bent closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing, darting around her own pixelated display.

‘Look at what, the lumps?’ she asked. I paused. I looked again in the mirror and noticed a second lump on the other side of my forehead. I poked it tentatively and it hurt just as much. ‘What do you reckon it is?’ I asked, my brows furrowing. ‘Probably nothing. A bad pimple or ingrown hair or something. I’ll sort it out for you later on.’ Satisfied, she continued with her hair. I looked at it more closely. It definitely wasn’t a spot, it was far too big. ‘No, but… it could be something dangerous, Rhea…’ She huffed, continuing to fix her bun. ‘Like what, Vander?’ ‘Cryptidoma?’ I suggested, without thinking. I shouldn’t have brought that up, I thought. My stomach already started to sink in worry. ‘Could it be that?’ Her eyes widened and she dropped one of her hair pins. ‘Of course it isn’t, mate. Blimey, only adults get that. That’s really rare, and no one in your family...that’s not it, honestly.’ I fell silent, propped my phone up against the wall, and continued trying in vain to style my hair. ‘Look, Vander, I don’t mean to upset you, but we can’t just throw this night away because you have a couple of sore spots!’ I sighed. ‘I know, I get it.’ ‘We got invited to Dalia’s Halloween party, Vander! The Dalia Njoroge-Matthews! This is our chance to make friends with cool people!’ I gave a strained smile into the camera. ‘You’re right. Time to make some friends.’ You see, before that night I was a nobody. Most people didn’t know my name. Some just knew me as Rhodes, my last name. Since Year 7 it’s been me and Rhea Chang versus the world.

***

Ms Chang rolled to a stop at Dalia’s house with me and Rhea in the backseats. We shuddered from the cold, windy night and the car had shuddered along the rough forest path leading up to the driveway. The autumn leaves had gone sodden and rotten in the puddles of rain and mud. I peered out of the window into the fast-falling night. In the darkness, when we had been moving, it looked like figures were racing between the trees, leaping and clawing at the trunks and branches. Just a trick of the dying day. Dalia’s house; an old and tall building made of red bricks and timber, coated in browning ivy. Despite its clear age, the house bore no signs of neglect; the paint was pristine, unchipped and uncracked, the windows new and polished. People I knew mingled around outside with plastic cups, weaving in-between pumpkin lanterns. Despite the cold night, the grand front door stood open. The doors opened into a bustling, warmly lit space. People weaved and grouped into small circles in corners and some danced to the music playing from somewhere deep in the old house. And the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in the strangest things. There were enormous glass cases nailed to the walls or perched on shelves, some free standing on the shimmering wooden floor. Each was filled with something, but it was hard to make out in the flickering, warm light. There was a skeleton or two. Some heads, tails, hands. Taxidermy, I thought. Not the strangest thing ever to find in such an old and rich house in the middle of such dense woods.

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Party Cryptid

Dex Legon

As I stood, gazing around the room, I noticed a new figure approaching me and Rhea. It took a moment to process that it was Dalia, holding two cans of lemonade. She looked so different without her school uniform and in so much makeup. She was wearing a short, pearly-white dress and some sort of wispy fabric headpiece over her huge, coily hair. It was hard to tell if she was trying to dress as a ghost, an alien, or a pint of milk. ‘So glad that you two could make it,’ she said, seemingly not very glad that we could make it, handing us the cans. Her face was emotionless, but her lips were pouted and covered in sparkling gloss. ‘Thank goodness you’re both in costume, too,’ she confided, adjusting her curls. ‘There are too many people showing up with no effort, but there’s always the emergency hat stock in the conservatory.’ She turned to me. ‘Evander, right?’ ‘Oh, um, just Vander is fine,’ I mumbled, popping open my can and taking a long sip to avoid the situation. She scowled at me and turned to Rhea – seemingly knowing her name, as it wasn’t asked for. She smiled, her demeanour changing completely, becoming bubbly and as bright as her dress. ‘What do you think of the party, babes?’ she grinned, gesturing around the room. ‘Oh, looks great, Dalia! Love all this stuff, too. Are your parents scientists or something?’ Rhea asked, opening her own can. Dalia gave her a pitying, patronising look, clasping her hand to her own heart. ‘Aww, you’re so sweet. They’re hunters actually, both my mums’ families have hunted them for years.’ I looked over the cases again. Something felt wrong when the cases were briefly cast in bright party lights. One hand had sharp-looking fingers. That skull had too many eye sockets.

‘Hunted...what?’ I asked, dreading the answer I knew was coming. She turned to me, her face dead serious, carved from marble. ‘Cryptids.’ Rhea choked on her lemonade. I gulped. ‘You... you can hunt those?’ I asked, beginning to panic. ‘Well, my parents work for this agency thing that keeps tabs on the cryptid population, right? And when people with cryptidoma don’t get the right treatment, they go wild and migrate to the woods, but the agency requires that they’re eliminated to protect local people and the wildlife and everything. It’s a shame really, but they do make an interesting conversation starter!’ ‘Do they get shot?’ Rhea asked. My jaw dropped slightly at her boldness. ‘Sometimes,’ Dalia answered, readjusting her dress, ‘but my parents have loads of hunting things, they’re all up in the kitchen, they just use whatever they fancy.’ She began to weave through the crowd, beckoning with a single, pearlescent, painted nail. Through the dozens of bodies, she led us both into the kitchen, where even more people lounged around, drinking, picking at bowls of crisps on countertops. Many, though, were distracted by the weapons lined up on the exposed brick walls. Among the plates and family photos of Dalia and her mothers were swords and crossbows, daggers and battleaxes, all poised on hooks and nails, lined up by the backdoor into the dying autumn forest. How quickly does cryptidoma set in, I thought. Would I be in a glass case by the end of the year, the month, the week? No, of course not, I didn’t know if I even had it. I knew there were five stages of cryptidoma. Mostly, adults get it and they can be treated right away. But with kids… it went unspoken. ‘Where’s the toilet?’ I asked Dalia. Frowning, she pointed through a door, and I rushed away, making sure to lock the door behind me. I faced the mirror and, steeling myself, pulled up my hair. Out of the lumps, breaking through the skin, were sharp, scarlet horns.

***

‘You’re insane, Vander,’ Rhea told me, leaning against the tank of the toilet. ‘It’s all in your head.’ I shook my head, wringing my hands. ‘No, Rhea, it’s not. It’s on my head– it’s coming out of my head! There are horns–‘ I grabbed each other with my index finger and thumb, ‘–growing out of my head!’ Rhea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Vander, you’re not turning into a cryppie.’ My mouth blabbered in protest. ‘Okay, Rhea, I know you’re not listening to me right now, but you cannot say that word.’ She laughed harshly. She laughed. ‘So what, Vander? It’s not like there’s one of them here.’ ‘Yes there is, Rhea, me! I know it’s rare in kids but it’s not impossible! I need to go get help before–’ ‘Before what, Vander! Blimey, you’re being such a drama queen.’ ‘I’m being sensible! Even if it isn’t cryptidoma, there’s still something wrong.’ She paused, rubbing her eyes. ‘And even if it is, you’ll be fine.’ She walked up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. ‘Vander, I am going to go enjoy my night. You will be fine. Go make some friends,’ she reiterated, dashing out of the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. Make some friends. I already had one, I thought. Wasn’t that enough? Her harsh laugh echoed around my head. It might be helpful to make some more friends, now that I thought about it. I flattened my hair down again, being careful not to gouge my hands on the horns, and started to wander thoughtlessly through the house.

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Party Cryptid

Dex Legon

One room was dark and warm. It was empty and quiet except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. There were walls of heavy, shelved books, bound in dark leather and embossed in gold. Two desks, laden with papers and pens and drawing pins, were there, too. One wall was covered with an enormous map of the forest. There was red string weaved around pins, creating a blood-red spider web over the blueish paper. Notes with scrawly handwriting and polaroids of blurred figures were pinned up. Some with dark, glossy fur. Some with two many arms and blackened skin. Some with whipping tails and enormous wings faded into a smudge. The next room was some sort of lounge. Rich leather chairs and sofas, draped with furs and skins. Lounging around the room, prodding at more weapons on the wall, were a group of boys in puffer jackets and fancy-looking trainers. ‘Hey,’ I spoke up, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. ‘Hey, guys.’ The three boys turned around with upturned noses and downturned eyebrows, spotty cheeks and short, cropped haircuts. ‘Hey, Rhodes,’ one of them responded with a wide grin. ‘Enjoying the party?’ ‘Yeah, yeah, it’s decent,’ I muttered, skirting around the edge of the room to try and sink into the heavy shadows. ‘Wanna know what we’re up to?’ one boy said, stroking an axe blade with a single finger. The metal was stained, encrusted in dark purple gunk, glowing and shimmering in the firelight. I shook my head and shrugged, not wanting to make too much noise, as if I was a mouse hiding from the house cat in the walls. ‘We’re gonna go get a cryppie in the woods. Wanna come?’ My stomach flipped again. ‘Wh-what? What do you mean, get?’ I asked, spluttering. The boy with the axe lifted it from the wall, swinging it wildly with both hands. ‘I think you get it, mate, don’t you?’

My heart started to pound so hard that I was scared it would burst out of my skin. ‘N-no, I’m not doing that! We can’t just take the weapons–’ I began, but one boy cackled. ‘It don’t matter, do it? I’d strangle one of them freaks with my bare hands.’ ‘No! No, it’s not right, they’re people! It’s not your job to... it’s... it’s not legal!’ I spluttered. ‘Suit yourself, mate. We’re trying to do everyone a favour, here,’ said the third. And just like that, without another word or laugh or sneer, the boys each picked a cruel weapon and marched out of the room. My breath was too quick and so was my heart. In the smoky wood-fire air, and filled with anger and fear, my thoughts felt foggy and thick. I guided myself down onto one of the rich chairs. I knew what they were going to try, but I didn’t dare believe they’d succeed. Any good cryptid would have the sense and the speed to avoid three idiots with sharpened lumps of metal. They warn us enough at school to avoid stage 5 cryptids at all costs, because their instincts are too strong. My anxiety was really starting to build now. Rhea was somewhere deep in this old house full of dead things, making her way up in the world, having the time of her life. There were three boys now stalking the woods, armed with ancient blades, hungry for more dead things. The trees were full of dead things that refused to fall despite the cold wind, hanging onto branches for dear life. My hopes are close to dead things. I dashed through the house again, trying to retrace my steps back to the bathroom. I dodged and weaved through people who I recognised but who would never recognise me. I held my breath and side stepped and stumbled on the thick carpets and glossy wooden floors and, finally, not even looking once for Rhea, I shut myself in the bathroom. I confronted the mirror. The tips of the tumours were growing and too fast. They were poking out from my hair now, splitting through like an axe in timber. And, there was something more. My canines, unfortunately, were getting sharp. I slammed my jaws shut. I pursed my lips together and covered my mouth with one hand, then the other, as if anyone was in there with me. My breathing quickened again. I couldn’t even open my mouth now. I couldn’t pour out an awkward conversation to escape a room or a group of people at this heinous party. All I could do was smile and nod. But how to hide my horns? It dawned on me. The hat stock in the conservatory. Would there be people there, I thought? Could I just snatch a hat and run? What if people had made a wall of socialisation around them, barricading the haven of hats? What if Dalia had run out of them? I had no answers. But I had a glimmer of hope to get through the night. I was staying in there too long. It might have been ten minutes, maybe twenty. Thirty. The hats would only run out at this rate. I unlocked the floor. I marched to the conservatory. There were plenty of hats. There were also plenty of girls. I approached tentatively. There were five, maybe six? It was hard to tell, all of them were wearing red dresses and plastic horns. I grabbed a cowboy hat and, in an attempt to escape, I tripped, and fell onto a sofa. There were too many people in front of me. There was nothing I could do but wait. ‘Oh my, babes, aren’t these cryptid things just the cutest?’ ‘Oh, literally! Like, it’s like they’re adorable little pets!’ ‘Isn’t it! They go all cute and dim when they don’t get treated, I heard. Poor things.’ ‘I heard they get put down.’

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Party Cryptid

‘Oh, babes, but I wouldn’t want it to happen to me.’ ‘Oh, true. It’s so gross isn’t it?’ ‘Like, isn’t it!’ Seizing my chance, between bodies, I started to flee. And I found myself in front of three boys, wielding blades, and bearing a severed head.

***

‘You did what?’ screamed Dalia, her curls jumping angrily. ‘We got a cryppie!’ yelled the axe-wielding boy triumphantly. The second boy had clenched his fist around the long, matted hair of a cryptid, now releasing it onto the floor. Its face was frozen in pure shock, its glossy, yellow eyes still wide open, pointed tusks bared, its blackened nose no longer twitching. ‘You can’t just do that, you need a licence and…’ Dalia struggled to speak as she was captivated by the head, swaying in place, purple muck still dripping from its neck.

Dex Legon

‘Well, we just did it. Saved your parents a job, eh?’ sneered the first boy, whose axe was dripping onto the kitchen floor too. ‘No, Sam, now there’s more paperwork to get done!’ she breathed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose with her manicured fingers. ‘What were you even going to do with that?’ She gestured to the head. ‘I dunno, thought it was a laugh…’ he mumbled, the head still rolling slightly, back and forward, dripping all the while. ‘You’ve killed someone,’ I spoke, without thinking. ‘That’s not a laugh.’ The axe-wielding boy’s knuckles turned white around the polished wood handle. ‘What do you care, Rhodes?’ ‘My name’s Vander.’ He stared. A wave of uneasiness soared through the crowd that had gathered. Whispers began to flit around, only nearly drowned out by the ringing in my ears. ‘You sound stupid, mate. You look it as well, with that hat,’ he sneered. He spun the axe in his hand, pointing the blunt end to the cowboy hat. ‘Do everyone a favour, and don’t put it back on.’ And with a swift strike of the axe’s hilt, the hat was tossed from my head, onto the floor, and my heart fell to my stomach along with it.

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Genesis Molly

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The Sleepover Miggy

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The Sleepover

Script for a comic – the story of non binary ALEX (13) going to friend LILY’s (13) house for a sleepover.

Miggy

LILY: Do you want me to do your makeup too? She sits in front of Alex making funny faces in concentration as she puts makeup on them, asks questions like:

Alex stands at the doorstep of a house debating whether to go in. Puts a hoodie over their baggy shirt, looks into bag to reveal a plain dark blue skirt, stops as people pass by behind them, laughing down the road. They hesitate and then zip bag back up and sling it over their shoulder, knocks on the door. Opening the door is a typical stay-at-home mum, cardigans and long skirt, mid – 40s, big smile and dramatic welcome.

LILY: Which could do you want for your eyes? and... LILY: Make like a kissy face.

MUM: Alex! How lovely to see you! Do come in – Lily is just upstairs. Alex goes bright red at this but after a moment does it. Alex, quiet but polite, head down shuffles feet a little fidgeting but smiles, goes upstairs is greeted by a very bubbly smiley Lily at the top who hugs them tightly.

LILY: Done!

ALEX, quietly: Is it OK if I change really quick?

Alex sits in front of the mirror, more static/blur/noise now with added colour/saturation.

Lily smiles and points to the bathroom, goes into her room, leaves the door open.

ALEX: It’s really pretty thank you, it just–

Alex in the bathroom looking at themself in the mirror, goes to take hoodie off, hesitates.

LILY: It doesn’t feel right does it? It’s not really you.

Alex knocks on the open door (they are being quite a bit awkward currently, this will soften up), they look exactly the same (maybe what got changed is under the baggy hoodie – binder or bra or something for them personally that we won’t know about).

ALEX: It feels like I’m dressing up. Idk sorry. LILY: That’s OK we can try again next time, if you want.

LILY (seriously): You OK? ALEX: Another time. Alex nods, sits on the bed with her cross-legged, they smile to each other, they read comics and talk about school, draw and play board games.

Lily hands them wipes and they wipe it off.

Alex watches Lily do make up in the mirror, their own reflection is static, fuzzy. Lily is putting on colourful eyeshadow.

They smile at each other, Alex a little sad, rubs at face. LILY: Oh, I made you this! Shows Alex a twisted colourful braided thread with beads. Alex smiles and holds out their hand. Lily ties it on. ALEX: Thank you! How did you make it? LILY: I can show you, then I can make one for me too so we match! MUM (from the kitchen): Dinner’s ready! Kitchen dinner table, lots of food laid out, Mum bustling about everyone else sitting down, Dad is reading a newspaper. MUM: I thought I’d make it all nice seeing as we’ve got a guest! So nice having one of Lily’s friends over. She was telling me about you and I told her I said I can’t wait till I meet THEM. 35

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The Sleepover

Miggy

ALEX: Yeah, that makes sense. Alex finishes the bracelet. ALEX: Is this right? LILY: Oh I love it! ALEX (smiling): It’s for you. Lily excitedly puts it on, Alex helps tie it. LILY: See – now we match! Lily is lying on her bed and there’s a mattress on the floor for Alex. They sleepily talk, singalong to music, eat candy (etc), Lily lying on her back, then on her front leaning on her elbows feet in the air, and then lying down head on one arm other arm dangling over the bed. The light goes and it’s dark. A little night light/bed side table is turned on; they are now all shadowy. LILY (whisper): Are you awake? ALEX: Yeah. Being very purposeful with the pronoun, not in a rude way just clearly trying to be obvious about it.

LILY: Can I sit with you a minute?

They eat, general chatter. Dad keeps tripping up on pronouns.

ALEX: Yeah.

DAD: She I mean they– and... DAD: He I mean she– Mum scolds him and then laughs it off. Then they go watch a film The Incredibles on sofa, in living room, popcorn candy and lights down. Lily rests head on Alex and again their face goes red. They make the friendship bracelets while chatting, music playing in the background. LILY: What superpower would you choose? ALEX: I think I’d like to fly, or superspeed. LILY: That’s cool I guess I thought you’d go for shape shifter stuff, that’s what I’d pick, because then I could shape shift into something that flies anyway.

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The Sleepover

Lily is on the mattress and they huddle together under the duvet. They are terrified because of their feelings. Holding their breath – wide eyed in the dark. They lay down together. This image in the dark and then... Light in the morning. Alex wakes up in same position but alone, sits up and sees Lily pulling clothes out of drawers. LILY (smiling): Wanna try? Alex in a few outfits, eventually they pick something very similar to their original outfit, smiling and happy. LILY (also smiling): You can have it if you want. At door again saying goodbye to Lily, hugs, parents wave bye, they walk down the road.

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‘I Like You’ Agnieszka Sokolowska

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The Invisible Boy Aitana Gonzalez

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Once Upon a Time, there was a little invisible boy. This little boy – Byron – did not want to be invisible. And so, Byron travelled all across the land in search of his cure – True Love.

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In his quest, Byron came across a town…

‘Are you all right? I’m Liam’ ‘Y-yeah, thank–’ ‘Is something wrong?’ ‘How did you see me?’

‘I didn’t. I can’t see anything, really.’

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They played,

and ate,

And so was born a beautiful friendship.

and laughed.

For days the boys did everything together.

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But Byron still felt something missing… he wanted to be visible.

Back to Contents ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Well it’s just that… I’m not getting any more visible.’

‘It’s nothing really–’

‘None of that, tell me. I’m your friend, I’m here to help!’

‘What do you need then? How do you do that?’

‘I have to find my true love… which means I have to leave.’

‘Oh.’

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And so, he left. What’s the point anyway? Will being visible even make me happy? What’s the point of being visible if I’m miserable?

But as Byron got further away from town, the more he got to thinking…

Why me? I don’t care anymore! I just want to be happy. 64

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And just like that, he was visible.

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‘I LOVE YOU!’

So he ran,

and ran,

until...

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Blossom Callum Roome

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Dear Pippa Courtney McPhail

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Nebulous Kinda

Kyle Royce Hutchinson

Nebulous 93

The easiest part of life

Sometimes it’s hard

is being born just existing

You’re formed

Juggling what people

And then you continue to form

Until you look

Want you to be

and what you

Like you’re expected to

want to be

Sometimes you might not

But why are we

even know

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expected to be anything?

What 95

you want to be

But that’s ok too

Kinda You don’t need to have yourself all figured out

You can just be yourself

Even if that is...

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Nebulous

Kit And Company Lolitsluan

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101

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103

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105

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107

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109

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Amethyst Heart Sara Jakubcova

116

117

eeing the grounds of the Sandringham Estate rarely means that good times are near. At least that's what Maxine has learned in her rather short lifetime, growing up as the heir to the throne guarding over the Commonwealth. If she's at

Sandringham that means someone is either dying, is dead or it's Christmas. This time around, it's Christmas and she wishes she could be anywhere else but here listening to

Pippa, one piece of the puzzle of the royal PR team, blabber about her upcoming official engagements. “You know, Maxine,” Pippa sighs and flicks the iPad cover shut with gusto. “If I were you, I would have been, I don't know, listening to me instead of gazing away at horses taking a dump in a field.” “That's not what they're doing,” Maxine frowns after turning to look at Pippa. In moments like these, she wishes the use of official titles in private hadn't been dropped in an effort to make the royal family seem more human to their employees. Pippa treats her like a misbehaving toddler or at best, a rowdy teenager. It gets old. “I don't care, Maxine,” Pippa shakes her head, closing her eyes and sighing. “Alright, bare bones version, you'll go to an orphanage with James on the 24th, that is your only solo thing. The rest is the usual, mass with the family, and the photographer will come to grab a few shots for New Years' to give the people a little hope for 2022. Sounds good?” “Sounds brilliant,” Maxine slaps a fake smile on her face. “Is James here already? He hasn't texted me since the morning.” “Do I look like his bodyguard?” Pippa scoffs. “I need to go over your Instagram account. I genuinely can't believe I'm allowing you to have the password to it.” Maxine tunes out the rest of Pippa's lecture. She could recite it all back at her in her sleep. From her seat in one of the many drawing rooms of the estate, she can glimpse some cars sporadically passing by on the road. And at this point, she only hopes that one of those flashes of headlights is James, and he better not be arriving alone. · · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · Rosamund wasn't the biggest fan of cars. She preferred seeing the world from horseback, or from a train. She wasn't claustrophobic, nor did she suffer from motion sickness but something about sitting in a small metal box on wheels never seemed very appealing to

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her. That is why she perks up when Sandringham finally comes into view. It is her second

instances when they overheard people speculating which one of them would look better

time here, but the first time was brief and jumbled.

on the banknotes.

“Another old musty place,” James says from the driver's seat as he parks the car right in front of the front door, on pretty loud gravel. He grins, “No ghosts here unfortunately. Would've made it much less dull.” “I believe I'll manage,” Rosamund smiles and exits the car. The building doesn't

“Maximilian,” James grins at Maxine from the doorway, taking two long strides and hugging her. “I've missed you. I'm still mad you didn't come to my party.” “Don't call me that,” Maxine laughs and pulls away. “And I was busy. Am I not allowed to be? Ros wasn't there either. Hi, Rosamund.”

tower in front of her as she looks up at it. Red with some beige, Georgian in architecture.

Rosamund smiles a little, joining them at James' right. “Hello, Maxine.”

Just an old estate like any other, with a few more royals.

“Welcome to Sandringham,” Maxine says. “I do apologise for the family drama

A butler takes them to the suite that has been prepared for them. A lavishly

you might be privy to over this holiday season. Even the royal family is just human.”

decorated sitting room that opens up to two bedrooms. All nice and proper because God

“Thank you, I'm sure I'll manage,” Rosamund chuckles. “I like it so far.”

forbid you spent a night in the same bed before the wedding night.

“Oh, just wait until grandmother is two glasses of port in,” Maxine cackles.

“Which room do you want?” James asks her.

“James! Have you got no manners?” Their father's voice silences the room

“Oh, I don't care,” Rosamund shrugs and looks around. “The one on the right?”

effectively. Without a single word to Maxine, James and Rosamund scurry off to King

“Your call, Ros,” James smiles. He comes up to her, his leather holdall still slug

Edward for a proper welcome. Honestly, what is Jamie thinking? Bringing his potential

over his shoulder and kisses her cheek. “I'll go unpack.”

future spouse to a family event and chatting to Maxine before the King? Maxine watches

Rosamund watches James' back disappear before she wills her legs to move and

the room with amusement. Queen Mother, her lovely grandmother Katherine, is already

go to her own bedroom. She doesn't bother with her bag, leaving it on the floor in front of

gossiping at the table. Aunt Patrice, her god awful husband Michael and the cousins,

the large four-poster bed as she collapses on it. With a grunt she fishes her phone out of

annoying little things named like they're Royal Kardashians - Peter, Penelope and

her back pocket and sees a text from her mum. Hope everything goes well xx. 'Sure it will',

Priscilla. Maxine's mother, Queen Emma, sneakily downs a glass of champagne in one go

Rosamund thinks to herself. She hasn't been ushered to a trip before with the sole purpose

before joining her husband, son and the girl they all want him to marry. Maxine would

of getting engaged. This might actually be the worst Christmas in her life.

never admit this out loud but at every family event she just wants to laugh because a

· · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · Maxine is well used to official and proper dinners. State dinners, banquets, lavish

certain popular TV show made about their family might be closer to reality than one

extravaganzas thrown for visiting presidents and dignitaries. Yet for as long as she's

season, well… they can say farewell to the throne and their titles.

would think. If anyone knew she and Jamie binged it together and can't wait for the next

walked this Earth, she's seeked out her twin brother's presence at these events. Even as

The dinner starts promptly and Maxine watches Rosamund try to hide herself

they enter their 20's and their paths start to slowly diverge, Maxine very much feels like

under her shaggy blonde hair as all the eyes are on her when she's formally introduced.

they share one centre of gravity and everything falls apart like an ashy log in a fire when

She's been around, the tabloids can testify to that, but this is the first time James brought

they're apart for too long.

someone home. It's funny, considering they all basically bullied him into it only to now

She's stepping back and forth near the fireplace, her new pumps chafing her Achilles heel when Jamie walks in. His dirty blond hair is a known marker to Maxine. No one would be able to say they're twins as Maxine sports a head of strawberry blond hair and blue eyes, contrary to Jamie's brown-green. When they were little, there were a few

pretend like James and Rosamund had a meet-cute straight out of a rom-com and her family didn't have a title and three estates. “Maxine,” Queen Emma's voice regrettably shines the spotlight on Maxine just before dessert. “Pippa talked to you today about your engagements, right?” “That is correct,” Maxine says and buries her face in her wine glass.

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“You and James should take Rosamund with you,” Queen Emma says resolutely.

“Myself, you mean,” Maxine laughs, biting at her bottom lip as she turns and puts

“It's a good opportunity to familiarise the press with her. And with you there, it will be

her arms around Rosamund's neck. “Thank you for the flattery, darling. I would've

more proper as you can act as a chaperone.”

reciprocated the staring if I hadn't been driving. How's Jaime?”

“You all three go to Cambridge, don't you?” Patrice intercepts, pointing her finger between Maxine, James and Rosamund. “Are you all graduating this year?” “Yes, we are,” Maxine responds, shooting a look at her brother and Rosamund. “Believe it or not, even the heirs to the throne have to do dissertations.”

“I don't wanna talk about him,” Ros shakes her head. “Aren't you freezing?” Maxine slowly pulls Ros into a hug, pressing their bodies together as much as possible. She rests her cheek against Ros' and whispers: “Not anymore.”

“Fascinating,” Patrice clicks her tongue. “Our Jamie and Rosamund found each

· · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · Two truths, one lie. Maxine is secretly shagging her brother's girlfriend/potential fiancée.

other like any random people would! Has any strapping young lad started courting you at

Rosamund has her own pillow in Maxine's dorm room at Cambridge. James got caught

Cambridge too, Maxine?”

snogging a blonde leggy model and Queen Emma had to pay off the tabloids not to

“I have better things to do than concern myself with marriage,” Maxine tries to

publish the photos. Shockingly enough, the first option is the lie. Why? Rosamund and

smile politely. Her heart pangs a little, knowing the expectations the people around this

James aren't dating. The tabloids would vehemently disagree and have started placing bets

table have on James and Rosamund. Most of them are certainly waiting for Jamie to whip

on their first born's name and similarly, the Royal Family is two steps away from hiring a

out an engagement ring on Christmas Morning.

wedding planner for them. Everyone is looking for perfection and even James can't run

When dinner's finally over, Maxine finds herself smoking on the terrace, shivering

away from trying to fit into the perfect mould. It was either getting a serious girlfriend

in the cold. She should've taken a jacket but after minutes, the cold feels almost

from a good family after his stint with a long list of models that hardly stayed more than a

exhilarating, reminding her that she is indeed alive.

week or service in the Army. For James, who once fainted after seeing a lobster being cooked and generally enjoyed his personal freedoms, the choice was clear.

“You know it's bad for you, right?” Maxine closes her eyes, smiling at the voice. “Yes. But I do it sparingly.” “Still,” Rosamund says. Maxine's shoulders are then heavier under the welcome warmth of a thick cardigan Ros put on her. “You'll turn into an icicle.”

Sometimes Maxine still feels like they're cheating. James doesn't know. No one knows. Does it matter if he and Ros aren't dating? They've been friends for rather a while. Funnily enough, although Maxine and Ros are in the same course, they met through

“Would you not defrost me?” Maxine smiles at Ros. She just laughs out a breath

James. They're both on the rowing team and were fast friends even though they didn't

and kisses Maxine's cheek, her hot, hot lips lingering on the frigid skin long enough to

share any classes together. Maxine first talked to Ros the summer after their 1st year and

make Maxine's heart miss a beat. “Of course I would,” she whispers.

her fate was sealed.

Rosamund snakes her coat-clad arm around Maxine's waist, waiting in silence as

It's strange having Rosamund attend an official engagement with her and Jamie.

Maxine finishes her cigarette. Despite hating the smell, Ros doesn't comment on it and

To Maxine, Ros is the normalcy she never had. Ros is watching a rom-com together at

stays put. It's been too long since they touched, even if it was mere days.

2am and reminding each other to grab their student cards before going to the library. Ros

“I've missed you,” Maxine says, leaning into Rosamund.

isn't paparazzi and polite waving and etiquette. Ros doesn't see Maxine as Maxine,

“I skipped Jamie's party for you just six days ago,” Ros laughs. A beat later,

Princess Royal. She's just Max, a girl who has four chapsticks on her desk and knows too

quietly, she adds, “I've missed you too. Sandringham looks better in sunlight.”

much about Greek Mythology for her own good. But now she's Maxine,

“We left in the morning, there was light already.”

Princess Royal who's visiting an orphanage just before Christmas, wearing

“I had nicer things to look at than this dusty old building.”

a sensible pantsuit and a simple, tailored coat. Maxine isn't sure why she's surprised when the whole engagement goes

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without a hitch. They bring the children some gifts, play around with them as the official

Ros' death and hide her away on some remote island than have her hounded by the media

photographer goes around and takes photos because God forbid the Royal Family did a

and hated within the family.

good deed and there weren't cameras around. Rosamund blends right in, listening to the

The true reason is that Maxine has arranged to see Rosamund in the library at

children sing a carol with Maxine and James like she's been doing this for decades and

11PM, which she can safely assume is the time when everyone's tipsy enough to ignore

asking the braver ones about what they wrote to Santa.

their absence. That is how she finds herself pacing around the softly lit room, only the

As they're leaving the building, Maxine and Rosamund fall into step together with James lagging behind to chat to the director of the orphanage. With a throng of paparazzi pointing their annoying, loud cameras at them, there isn't much they can do but walk towards their car. “How did I do as a chaperon to you and James today?” Maxine teases Ros. Rosamund breathes out a laugh and stops walking, still at a good distance from most of the cameras. “Is that what you were doing then? Chaperoning us?” “That is the official line, yes,” Maxine nods. “So how'd I do?” Ros smiles pensively, her green eyes trained at Maxine. “Like you know I'd run to you the second no one was watching.”

sconces illuminating the vast space. She sure hopes no one will come here in search of the vintage whiskey. Moments later, she's thankfully greeted by Rosamund's face peeking cautiously in the doorway instead of one of her family members. “Max,” Ros breathes out as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “Are you not feeling a bit too risky with this?” “It's alright,” Maxine smiles a little. “They're all obliterated.” Ros sighs, sagging against the door. Her face then lights up with a smile. “Are we having a rendezvous?” “Not quite,” Maxine clicks her tongue. She reaches over to the main desk,

Maxine takes in a sharp breath, Rosamund's words shaking the ground beneath

grabbing the small wrapped box that led to this meeting happening in the first place. “I

her. Before she can say anything, the background shouting of the paparazzi gets louder

wanted to give you your Christmas present. I don't think it's something I could've given

and when James' figure appears next to them, it's clear why. It's incessant as they all walk

you without raising some eyebrows with the family. So here we are.”

towards the car, shielded by bodyguards. “Prince James, will you propose to Lady Rosamund this Christmas?”

“Oh, Max,” Rosamund's smile softens. “You really didn't have to.” “I wanted to,” Maxine shrugs, looking down at the shiny wrapping paper. “You're

James laughs heartily. “We're 21, Bob. Ask again in ten years.”

very important to me, Ros. I mean, I'm not sure what's really happening, not only with us

And with that, the car's warm interior consumes them and they speed away.

but in general, but… I just wanted to give you something nice?” Rosamund meets Maxine's eyes when she raises her gaze, blinking slowly at her

· · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · Maxine can hardly sit still during Christmas Dinner that evening. Everyone is gushing

before quickly crossing the distance between them and covering Maxine's hands with

about how well Rosamund did at the engagement, how well the response is online, how

hers. “I can't even describe-” Ros cuts herself off, biting her lips. She shakes her head,

the press is loving her, how good she and James look together. That isn't what's really

closing her eyes for a second before opening them and giving Maxine a shaky smile. “Can

keeping Maxine's blood thrumming in her veins. She's used to that talk and by Jamie's

I open it?”

faraway look on his face and frequent checks of his phone under the table, Maxine can

“It's all yours, my love,” Maxine says, transfering the box to Ros' hands.

safely that say her beloved brother won't be whipping out an engagement ring anytime

Rosamund slowly unfurls the ribbon, then rips the paper on the box. She doesn't say

soon no matter how many times their father slaps him on the back like he's finally A

anything when she touches the dark green velvet of it, only caressing it gently before

ManTM. Besides, she's happy the press and the family are taking well to Rosamund. It's

opening the lid. The slow gasp she lets out upon seeing the contents will stay with Maxine

not always like this for everyone marrying into the family and Maxine would rather fake

for a long time. Maxine can hardly keep her smile contained.

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“How did you even find this?” Rosamund shakes her head, her eyes wide in disbelief. “A Thistle on a ring?” “I might've had it made by a jeweller in London?” Maxine winces. “But it turned out so pretty, you can't even be mad at me, even though I would very much argue that you're the prettiest Scottish flower there is, not the Thistle.”

Sara Jakubcova

“Jamie, I…” Maxine starts. “I really don't know what to say but I swear I'm not just, I don't know, seducing Rosamund right now. It's- God, I can't even say it's not what it looks like, but it's worse than it looks because I'm not just messing around here over Christmas and bloody hell, I'm so sorry. I just don't know what to say.” James breathes out a chuckle, furrowing his brows. “Not you stealing my girl! Max? Honestly?”

Rosamund laughs heartily, shaking her head again. “You're a bloody

Maxine glances at Rosamund quickly, who won't meet her gaze. She's facing

romantic, Maxine. So sentimental, I cannot believe you. It is incredibly,

Jamie instead of Maxine but her head is turned away from him too, trained at the window

incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.” Ros takes the ring out of the box and puts it on

where she can see only darkness now. Helpless, Maxine sighs and looks at her brother

her left index finger. It fits her well. Maxine doesn't take her research lightly. The

again. “Jamie, I'm really sorry. Please, just don't tell our parents. I really won't stand in

purple of the amethyst used to mimic the flower sparkles against the sparse light.

your way if you want to get married like Mother and Papa want. Just please don't tell them

“You're very welcome,” Maxine says, barely getting the words out before Ros grabs her waist and kisses her. She closes her eyes, nearly sighing at finally kissing Rosamund again. It's been more than a week and it feels like her heart had been drained out of all the love in it during that time. Now it's filling up again, so warm and alive, kickstarting the mechanism of her heart again. Ros pulls away after a moment, leaning her forehead against Maxine's. She gulps, whispering, “Do you think this is wrong? For you… as the future queen?” Maxine shakes her head carefully, putting her hand on Ros' cheek. “This couldn't ever be wrong,” she says, caressing her cheekbone. “No matter what.”

anything about this because they would disown me and I can't deal with it right now. As pathetic as it sounds, I need to graduate first.” Jamie laughs. He laughs and Maxine uses a lot of strength to keep herself from gaping at him. “Max, I'm just kidding,” Jamie shakes his head, smiling. “I thought there was something fishy going on with you two. At first, I assumed it was just friendship and you were both too sick of me to have me hanging around all the time, or even knowing about it. Guess I was wrong there, but not too far away?” Rosamund shocks Maxine by speaking up, “How long have you known?”

Their lips meet again with momentum, and there's no stopping them. Maxine

“Since the fall semester started, I'd say,” Jamie shrugs. “Sorry I kept this whole

could cry with how good it feels to finally hold Rosamund's face, to run her fingers

thing on but I knew you wouldn't wanna marry me either way. We were never gonna get

through her hair, to taste her lips on hers. No one has ever felt as right as her. And they're

married, the only people who didn't get the hint were our families and the press. And I

so young, too young for wanting this feeling to last forever. How can she know it won't

really, really don't wanna do the whole Army thing.”

disappear? How could they possibly know if this risk is for nothing and this delicious

“You won't tell our parents then?” Maxine asks measuredly.

warmth will disappear soon enough, never to return again?

“Of course not,” Jamie scoffs. “You're my twin, Max. I wouldn't betray you like

But for now, Maxine pushes those thoughts to the back of her head and lets her mind wander towards the couch she knows is just a few steps away from them. She could walk backwards, pull Ros along with her and-

that, I love you. Besides, you know Ros and I aren't actually together. She's probably my best friend by now, but that is all. This is not some adulterous situation.” Maxine groans loudly, “Ugh, you gave me such a fright,” she sighs. “Thank

“What on Earth?”

you, Jamie. I really appreciate it,” she looks at Rosamund, only to find her already

Maxine pulls away from Rosamund like a cat that had a bucket of water thrown

watching her. “We both do,” Maxine adds hopefully. Ros smiles, nodding softly.

at it. Gulping, her breathing heavy, she comes face to face with James. Her heart drops in her chest, the despair sucking her in as Rosamund takes a step away from her.

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“You're like my favourite person on this planet, Maxine,” Jamie rolls his eyes jokingly. “This goes without formal gratitude. Besides, we can just keep this on, play a

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Sara Jakubcova

spectacularly thrilling game of cat and mouse with our families and tabloids, and do our

old church at eight in the morning before even opening presents or having breakfast but

thing in the backstage of all this.”

alas, the Royal Family serves the people and if the people want clearly arranged paparazzi

Maxine hops off to Jamie and drapes herself over him in a hug. “I love you, Jamie. You're literally the coolest brother ever.” “You only have one brother, me,” Jamie chuckles. “By that logic, you're also the coolest sister. Falling for the girl our parents want me to marry is commendable.”

pictures from a church, who is she to protest? One thing does make her smile, and that is Rosamund not wearing her usual leather gloves because she's wearing the Thistle ring. It takes a lot of strength for Maxine to not grin like a madwoman right in front of the cameras.

Maxine freezes at those words. Falling for someone. She hasn't taken the time

A couple of days later, when everyone's filled up with mince pies up to their ears,

yet to step back and really think about what she and Rosamund are doing. Are they

Pippa Zooms Maxine and James, overlooking their rundown of the press from Christmas.

girlfriends? Are they in love? Have they fallen for each other?

They're being very uncivil with their feet propped up on the coffee table as they flick

“You almost had me looking around the room for weapons, James,”

through tabloids and other rags.

Rosamund's voice brings Maxine to take a step away from Jamie. Ros quickly hugs him

“'Wedding Bells Coming Soon?'” James reads from a cover page featuring a photo

and pats his cheeks like he's an adorable toddler. “You know they'd never find your body,

of himself, Rosamund and Maxine in front of the church. “'Lady Rosamund Hill Sports a

right? I'd put you somewhere in the Highlands and you're dust.”

Blingy Ring!' I didn't even give her that ring, Max.”

“There is a sword from the 1700s on the wall right behind you,” James emphasises dramatically. “Besides, I'd never doubt that. I've seen you at practice.” “Good,” Ros smirks, crossing her arms behind her. An uncomfortably empty

“No, I did,” Maxine grins at him sweetly and pokes her tongue out at him. “You did what now?” Pippa screeches from the laptop. “Your wifi is a nightmare, I can't hear you.”

silence falls upon them. They all look at each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Nothing, bestie,” James sing-songs and flips to the next page.

“I should leave you alone, shouldn't I?” Jamie wrinkles his nose.

“Don't you ever call me bestie again, James. Don't you dare.”

“That'd be best, yes,” Maxine breathes out, letting her shoulders relax. “Right, I'll be on my way then,” Jamie nods. “Lock the door and if anyone asks, you two are both sleeping soundly in your respective bedrooms.” “You're a saint,” Ros calls after Jamie as he leaves. Before he shuts the door, he gives them both a wink and a salute.

“Look,” Maxine shows a magazine spread to Jamie. The biggest photo is her and Ros talking in front of the orphanage. “Look at us and look at the headline. 'Rosamund's Sisterly Love With Future Sister-In-Law Princess Maxine'. It's hilarious.” “They really have no idea, do they?” Jamie chuckles, shaking his head. “No idea about what now?”

Maxine shuffles on her feet, playing with her fingers. “Do you wanna watch a film? The old sofa is comfier than it looks and there's a laptop in the desk drawer.” “I'd like that very much,” Ros smiles.

“Nothing!” Maxine and Jamie call out in unison. · · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · Maxine felt like the house was suffocating her. She likes old buildings, that's never the

· · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · The days between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve always drag on like molasses. It's a

issue. It's the family, the pretence she has to put on anytime she's around anyone who isn't

liminal space of sorts, a week that is butted at the end of a year like an appendix, a handful

and that is going riding. It'll help only for a short while, but it is a respite she desperately

of days that are usually wasted. They're dense with anticipation, as if a new calendar and

needs if she's to spend another week in the house.

drinking champagne at midnight can bring about monumental change out of nowhere. On Christmas Morning, they all go to the St. Mary Magdalene Church just on the outskirts of the estate, as usual. Maxine could certainly do without standing in a freezing

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Ros or Jamie. The walls are closing in on her and right now, there is only a quick fix for it

She's on the edge of the garden, a horse called Tilly warm beneath her palm. Maxine is just about ready to climb up into the saddle when she hears another pair of hooves hitting the gravel on the path.

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“May I join?” Jamie's voice is unmistakable. Maxine turns around and gives him a smile, “Of course.” “I thought you'd run away,” Jamie quips. “But then I saw Ros and I knew you wouldn't leave her behind to fall into the evil clutches of our parents.” “I still have a sense of duty left in me,” Maxine huffs as she climbs atop Tilly. “Always the better-behaved, ever so responsible twin even though you've literally stolen my fiancée and possibly disrupted the line of succession by doing so.”

Sara Jakubcova

“If they would even allow us to be together,” Maxine scoffs. “At least you're the one normal person in this family. Grandmother would call us 'inverts'.” “I'll always stand by you, Max,” James says, his voice resolute, pure steel that won't be shaken by anything. “No matter what. Because I know you would do the same for me. You have done the same for me.” Maxine looks at her brother, the green in his eyes particularly bright today. It makes his gaze look clear, focused. Maxine smiles, remembering the many times they've

Maxine glares James down.

covered things for each other, from smuggled bottles of wine to less than savoury

“Kidding!” Jamie rolls his eyes and their horses start a slow gallop. “I'm kind of

adventures in club bathrooms with people from all walks of the showbiz.

surprised you're not riding with Ros. She loves riding more than anyone I know.” “Yeah, I wanted to,” Maxine sighs. “She didn't feel like it today.”

“I know,” Maxine nods slowly. “You're very sweet, Jamie.” “So sweet I'll give you a toothache,” Jamie agrees. After a pause he says, “I'm

“Why?” James prods. “First girlfriends fight?”

happy for you and Ros. I mean it. She's such an amazing person but I knew she couldn't

“No,” Maxine scoffs.

ever love me. I couldn't love her either. Not like that anyway. I knew this wouldn't work

“Then why? It's nice out.”

and I kind of feel bad for stealing time with her from you.”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Maxine scoffs. “She's an adult, she can spend her time with

“Yes, why wouldn't I?”

whoever she wants. Plus, you're like the best of friends. I don't want that to be ruined just

“She's on her period, okay?” Maxine groans. “Now don't be a child.”

because we kiss and all that.”

“Are you sure you're not on yours too, meanie?” Jamie snickers. “I'm going to kick you off your horse, James,” Maxine smiles at him sweetly.

“'Kiss and all that',” Jamie chuckles. “Funny way to say you're madly in love with each other and it's baffling no one but me has noticed.”

“That was very sexist and that is just one of the reasons why the country is better off with

“Oh shut up.”

me as the head of the commonwealth after Papa dies and not you.”

“Sprint to the edge of the field then a race back to the back garden?”

“I'm kidding, I know that was horrible,” Jamie brings his horse closer to Maxine. “I don't want the throne anyway.”

“If I win you're getting me dinner every night in January.”

“If Papa heard you, he'd kick you off your horse,” Maxine breathes out a laugh.

· · ─────── ·𖥸𖥸· ─────── · · New Year's Eve rears its strange head in with a lot of snow, especially for England.

The cold air is starting to burn her nose but after nearly full days in the stifling heat of a

Maxine assumes transport in major cities has collapsed and people have no idea what to

maze of fireplaces, she welcomes it gladly. “You need to tell him soon.”

wear outside. She's sure there is someone walking around in shorts anyway.

“I know,” Jamie nods, stressing the reins of the horse. “I won't change my mind either. I'm not cut out for this.” “What if I'm not either?” Maxine speaks quietly, contrary to her recent bragging. “We're so young, they're asking too much of us sometimes.” “Maybe don't mention Ros to them either,” Jamie says. “They'll want you two to get married as well.”

The 'party' is the same as always. The adults get tipsy and start gossiping, the kids slink away one by one to either drink on their own or to play on their phones. Maxine is leaning against the wall, deep in thought, her nose leaning against a glass of whiskey when Rosamund's hand on her elbow sends a current through her. “Earth to Maxine,” she whispers in her ear. Maxine shivers. “I'm here,” Maxine musters up a smile. “Hello, stranger.” “Hello, you strange Englishwoman,” Ros giggles. “You looked lonely.”

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“Would you not fight for me?” Maxine lets out a breath. She shakes her head slowly. “Of course I would. I just- I “I'm fine,” Maxine shakes her head with a smile. “Your company is always welcome though.”

don't want to ruin your life. You know how the world is. How our families are. I would absolutely fight for you, Rosamund, as long as I knew you'd be happy.”

Rosamund nods to herself. Her eyes are glassy and Maxine can see she's a little tipsy. “Don't get too touchy, babe. We're not alone here, sadly.”

Rosamund turns around, taking both of Maxine's freezing hands into hers. “The happiest I've felt in our world, of all the titles and conventions and expectations and

“Terrible,” Ros clicks her tongue. “Why can't we just do whatever we want?”

mediaeval-level crap, was when I was with you. So this is a fair warning - I don't care

“Not how it works,” Maxine smiles somberly. “Do you want to sneak into my

what happens, as lost as you're with me and you've not grown sick of me.”

room tonight? I'd like to spend the first few hours of the new year with you.” “Goodness, Maxine, you're writing a romantic comedy anytime you speak to me,” Ros chuckles in wonder. “And I love it. Absolutely love every bit of it.” Maxine looks past Ros' shoulder, scouting the room to see if anything's giving

“I could never be sick of you,” Maxine says. “Never.” “Will you be saying that in a year?” Ros wonders. “Or twenty?” “I think we deserve a fair chance to find out,” Maxine says, looking at their feet. “Like normal people do.”

them strange looks. Instead of those, she catches Jamie's eye. He smiles, tipping his head

“I mean this in the nicest way possible but nothing about you is normal.”

at the door. Maxine frows, pointing a finger between herself and Ros, then the door. Jamie

Maxine laughs and lifts her head up. Ros' face is lit up with a grin, so warm and so

nods and winks at them. Seconds later, he's charming the room away by offering to play the piano. Maxine doesn't waste any time.

familiar it makes Maxine wanna cry. “I like you, so very much,” Maxine sighs. “Not normal me and all.”

“Come on,” Maxine whispers, curling her fingers around Rosamund's wrist.

“I like you too, even more so,” Ros smiles. “And normal is boring.”

“Oh no, the bad witch is stealing me away!” Ros giggles as she hurries behind

The fireworks boom somewhere on the grounds, illuminating the sky above them

Maxine, her hands finding her hips the second they're in the hallway. Unlike the night

brightly with all colours of the rainbow. They laugh, their hands now resting on each

before Christmas, they have half the mind to grab their coats before venturing out.

other's forearms, bodies inching closer together.

“Sandringham gets the Rosamund stamp of approval,” it's the first thing Ros says

“Happy New Year,” Maxine says.

once they're outside, standing side by side on the terrace, everything white as far as they

Rosamund meets Maxine's gaze again. “Happy New Year.”

can see. Their eyes look for the stray fireworks they can faintly see from the neighbouring

The kiss they share then is sweet, sweeter than most. Quite chaste as their lips are

villages and towns.

half frozen, they don't stress it because the year that lays ahead of them holds many more

“Does it?” Maxine raises her brows. “Better than the first time?”

stolen kisses and warm embraces. They might be running on borrowed time but Maxine

“Less privacy maybe,” Ros relents. “Colder. But I'm glad Jamie knows about us

has always been an optimist when it comes to the matters of the heart. And she wasn't

now and I'll forever remember the way you kissed me in the library that night.” “I'm glad he knows too,” Maxine says, taking Ros' hand in hers. It's still warm.

lying to Rosamund. She will fight for her, even if she has to take a hundreds year old sword off the wall.

“You know,” Ros clears her throat, squeezing Maxine's hand shortly. “Before Jamie dropped his act, in the library. You said something.” Maxine frowns, turning to Rosamund but she doesn't look at her. “What?” “You said you wouldn't stand in our way,” Ros says, only now granting Maxine the view of her face. It's solemn, chillingly so. “You said that if our parents insisted we get married, or if James wanted to, you wouldn't stand in our way.” “Ros…” Back to Contents

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Charli

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What is The Rainbow Library? The Rainbow Library is a pioneering publishing initiative to create more LGBTQ+ inclusive books for young readers. Through workshops, talent development, events and publications, The Rainbow Library aims to celebrate queer-representation in children’s literature and increase the visibility of LGBTQ+ people in children’s books.

Who was the programme delivered by? The Rainbow Library is produced and presented by Pop Up Projects CIC. Pop Up Projects CIC is non-profit social enterprise with a mission to transform lives through literature and publishing.

Meet the Authors Beth Risidore Beth is an 18 year old student from Essex, who enjoys reading and listening to music. They write stories with as many queer characters as possible and vary perspectives depending on their mood. They even dabble in a bit of drawing but prefer the tool of words. Favourite book (one of): Blood of Olympus from the Heroes of Olympus series.

Through our work we aim to: Provide literary experiences and publishing opportunities for writers and illustrators of all ages,

1 including children and young people

Engage and inspire, nurture and invest in writers and illustrators from under-represented, 2 marginalised and excluded backgrounds Contribute to a more inclusive canon of children’s books, so that more young readers can

3 find themselves and discover others in the books they read

Dex Legon Hi, I’m Dex Legon, a teenage and queer author-illustrator. My work is always full of magic, mischief and lots of queer rep. I love working digitally, or with watercolours and collage to create fun and dynamic pieces for my stories. My favourite book is Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé.

We achieve these aims by: Providing courses which offer routes into children’s literature and publishing for illustrators and writers of all ages, including children and young people Publishing inclusive children’s books by the illustrators and writers we discover through our courses

Find out more about us and our work at pop-up.org.uk

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Molly Molly is an aspiring graphic novelist and passionate about portraying sapphic, lesbian and trans love in nuanced and thoughtful ways. Molly would like for kids to grow up seeing lesbians, butches, dykes and other queer people represented, celebrated and not demonised, and aims to be a part of this through comic art.

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Miggy

Callum Roome

Miggy is a queer disabled writer and ideas generator. They make poetry and collaborative work with @unfinishedartcollective, a group creating art inspired by other people’s rejected projects.

Callum Roome is a MA Documentary Journalism student at Nottingham Trent University. When he’s not producing documentaries as part of his course, he likes to build Warhammer, play Dungeons & Dragons, and, most importantly, read – especially LGBTQ+ literature. Having never created a comic before, the Rainbow Library provided Callum with the opportunity to create their own story that normalised queer dynamics and relationships, which they believe is extremely important for the future progression of LGBTQ+ rights and allyship.

Agnieszka (Agnes) Sokolowska Agnieszka (Agnes) Sokolowska is a queer illustrator and mathematician based in Nottingham. The projects she’s involved with focus on social issues that she’s passionate about: inclusivity in STEM fields and academia and queer representation. Her art style varies from realistic portraits to cartoonish comics; consistently featuring bold colour choices, precise linework, and characteristic textures. Her favourite book is The Humans by Matt Haig.

Aitana Gonzalez Aitana Gonzalez is a Cuban national born in Havana. She moved to South Florida when she was 8 years old and recently took up studying Graphic Design at Nottingham Trent University. Her art style is inspired by the drawings in old children’s books, such as The Chronicles of Narnia, The Little Prince, and Winnie the Pooh.

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Courtney McPhail After pursuing her love for writing with an MA, Courtney fell in love with the exciting worlds of fantasy and the tales of romance. You’ll often see her reading the ACOTAR series, though she also enjoys the delights of Casey McQuiston. When her head isn’t buried in a book, Courtney enjoys baking, travelling, and throwing herself in every new, upcoming project.

Kyle Hutchinson Kyle is an educator and writer from Nottingham who mostly works on fiction, in genres ranging from romance to speculative sci-fi. The comic is a first, and is inspired by the word that best describes their own gender; ‘Nebulous’.

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Meet the Course Authors Lolitsluan

L. D. Lapinski Writer for Basildon

Lolitsluan is a queer, non binary, freelance illustrator and workshop facilitator that uses their creations to promote self-love, acceptance and happiness. They’re always out and about sketching in their sketchbook, most of their pieces come from a doodle and are then refined using Photoshop and their trusty Wacom tablet.

L. D. Lapinski is the author of The Strangeworlds Travel Agency trilogy, published by Orion Children’s (UK), by Aladdin, Simon & Schuster (USA), and is published around the world in fifteen other languages. Each book in the trilogy has been awarded a Kirkus star - one of the most coveted designations in the book industry, marking books of exceptional merit. L. D. Lapinski lives just outside Sherwood Forest with their family, a lot of books, and a cat called Hector.

Sara Jakubcova

Fredde Lanka Illustrator for Basildon

Sara is a twenty-two year old graduate with a degree in Film and History. She’s Slovak, having moved to the UK for University. Writing is her biggest passion but she also enjoys painting, knitting or sewing. Her style of writing dips into the romance genre most often but following her experience writing a book for her history dissertation, she’s veering towards a love affair with lesbian and gay historical fiction. She loves to sprinkle a bit of drama and heartbreak into her stories but she is a sucker for a happy ending. When she’s not writing, she loves to sit down for a Netflix binge, travel and explore the culture with friends.

Fredrik Andersson (They/He) is originally from Sweden. For the last eight years has been based in London, working as an independent artist and educator. He works in a bold, colourful style across illustration, comics and ceramics. His work is humorous and strongly narrative and addresses topics ranging from queer culture, family dynamics and sex.

Charli

Bex Glendining Comic Author for Nottingham

Charli is a Nottingham-based writer and illustrator currently studying for their A-Levels in Psychology, English Literature and Maths. They get inspiration for their creative work from the world around them, as well as being inspired by what they read and watch, and hope to study English Literature and Creative Writing at university next year.

Bex Glendining (she/they) is a biracial queer, UK based illustrator, comic artist and colourist. Bex has worked as a cover artist, colourist and interior artist on projects such as Seen: Edmonia Lewis, Penultimate Quest, Rolled & Told, Lupina and multiple covers for Penguin Random House. When not working they can usually be found building gundams, playing video games with friends or buying new plants.

For more information, please contact projects@pop-up.org.uk.

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Jay Hulme Poet for Manchester

Leyla Josephine Writer for Inverness

Jay Hulme is an award winning transgender performance poet, speaker, educator and teacher, whose books include Clouds Cannot Cover Us, Rising Stars: New Young Voice in Poetry and Here Be Monsters. He also performs sensitivity reads, and consults and speaks at events and conferences on the importance of diversity in the media, and more specifically transgender inclusion and rights. In recent years Jay has worked alongside and/or consulted with Amnesty International, Stop Funding Hate, The Carnegie and Kate Greenaway Awards, among other groups, on inclusion and diversity in literature, especially YA and children’s literature, and has performed confidential inclusion and sensitivity reads for numerous publishers, improving the quality and accuracy of transgender representation in a number of books.

Leyla Josephine is an artist originally from Glasgow, now residing in Prestwick. She is a performance poet, theatre maker, screenwriter, director and project leader.

David Roberts Illustrator for Manchester David Roberts is a multi award-winning and New York Times best-selling illustrator who has earned great acclaim for his distinctive style. He was born in Liverpool and studied fashion design at university in Manchester. After university he worked as a milliner and began to get work as a fashion illustrator but always felt his true calling was in children’s book illustration. His illustrated books include the New York Times number 1 bestsellers Sofia Valdez, Future Prez and Ada Twist, Scientist as well as Dirty Bertie, The Cook and the King (with Julia Donaldson) and The Bolds (with Julian Clary).

A documentation of her show Hopeless is published by Speculative Books. She has been in included in an American anthology called Choice Words: Writers On Abortions alongside the likes Margaret Atwood, Audre Lorde and Gloria Steinem. Two of her poems have been published in The Centenary Collection for Edwin Morgan. She is featured in Neu! Reekies! anthology Untitled 3. She has had poems featured in The National, The Scotsman, The Guardian, Huffington Post, Upworthy, BBC Scotland, BBC Radio 4, BBC Social and Gutter magazine. Leyla won The UK National Slam at The Royal Albert Hall run by Hammer and Tongue. She has since then won The Commonwealth Slam 2014 and The Loud Poets Grand Slam 2016. She was a finalist in the Roundhouse Slam 2017 and runner up for The Scottish Championships 2018.

Clive McFarland Picture Book Author for Glasgow Clive McFarland was raised in County Tyrone before studying art in Derry and Liverpool. His first and second picture-books were both shortlisted for the AOI World Illustration Awards. ‘A Bed for Bear’ was a Kids’ Indie Next List Top Ten, and ‘One Leaf, Two Leaves, Count with Me!’ was chosen for Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library. Clive uses paint, crayon, cut paper and low-fi printmaking techniques to create his textured digital illustrations. Selected clients include HarperCollins, Penguin US, Templar, Froebel South Korea, and Marks & Spencer. Clive lives in Northern Ireland.

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Kel Menton Writer for Cork Kel Menton (they/them) is a non-binary writer from Cork. They were selected as a Young Writer Delegate for the 2021 Dublin Book Festival. They currently work as an assistant youth theatre facilitator at Graffiti Theatre Company, and as the assistant coordinator for Fighting Words Cork. You can find some of their work published in the Irish Examiner, Good Day Cork, and the ROPES literary journal.

Betsy Cornwell Writer for Belfast Betsy Cornwell is a New York Times bestselling author, writing teacher, private mentor, and retreat leader. Betsy holds an MFA in creative writing from the University of Notre Dame and a BA from Smith College, and she currently teaches at the National University of Ireland Galway. She lives in a historic knitting factory on the west coast of Ireland, which she is working to turn into a funded, childcare-inclusive arts retreat space for single mothers. Her books include Reader, I Murdered Him (with HarperCollins), The Forest Queen and The Circus Rose.

Kip Alizadeh Illustrator for Cork Kip Alizadeh is a visual artist, illustrator and hand-letterer based in Belfast. They have a BA (Hons) in Illustration from Falmouth University. Their illustrated books include What Will You Be? (written by Yamile Saied Méndez), Unboxed (written by Non Pratt), Plenty of Hugs and World So Wide.

Jamie Beard Illustrator for Belfast Jamie ‘Beard’ Baird is a Northern Irish illustrator. His work, primarily centred around portraiture, is perpetually fuelled by a fascination with people and their stories, and notions of individuals and collective identity. Much of his noted work to date has been rooted in issues of social justice and Belfast’s luminous LGBTQ+ community, aiming in some sense to convey a portrait of a community through the people and stories making it up. His work is featured in Encounter (a collaboration with Outburst Arts, al-Jumhuriya, and the British Council), The Little Crayon (with Amelia Kai) and Mistaken for a Bear (with Philip Ardagh). Jamie’s clients to date include Belfast Pride, Outburst Arts, Queen’s University Belfast, SPAR, The Naughton Gallery, Lambert Smith Hampton, and Ulster Museum.

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Explore The Rainbow Library The Rainbow Library spans 5 volumes, each featuring selected writing and illustration from LGBTQI+ young people across the UK and Ireland. Explore the full collection today! Explore

1 A

Basildon & Nottingham

Glasgow & Inverness

Manchester

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Cork

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Belfast

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