WE ARE IN THE PROCESS of inviting people to write some short pieces on Philippa Pearce’s work.
These will be posted on this page, as we receive them. You will need to scroll down to view them all.


From Kevin Crossley Holland

On Listening to Morag Styles: Skating to Ely

And listening, we laced our skates
on a morning so porcelain
we could see clean
out of East Anglia
right across the German Ocean.

Each hissing edge scoring
the white-and-blue,
we were one fair fellowship
with the Fen Tigers,
and monks still at their orisons,
yes, and Tiddy Mum,

skating to Ely with Morag
and Tom…

I wrote this ‘postcard’ poem after hearing Morag talk about PP’s work at the 2003 Federation of Children’s Bookgroup Conference in Southwold.

PP and I were colleagues and occasional friends since the 1980’s, when we both served on the Eastern Arts Association’s Literature panel (and so, incidentally, did Jan Mark). Quite apart from very greatly admiring her work, I relished our meetings and conversations and treasure her personal letters.


From Jacqueline Wilson

I have a much cherished 1st edition of Tom’s Midnight Garden. I vividly remember reading it to my daughter when she was 9. It was one of our favourite books. I met Philippa Pearce many years later and she was very gracious and charming when I shyly told her how much we admired her work.


From Gillian McClure

I first met Philippa when I moved to the Mill House in Whittlesford just up the river from the Shelford Mill House that belonged to Philippa’s grandfather. As a child I’d assumed that writers of classic books were all long dead so it felt strange finding the author of my favourite childhood book, Tom’s Midnight Garden living in the next village. Philippa and I went on to enjoy a close friendship for over 20 years and in 1996 collaborated on The Little White Hen.


From Philip Pullman

She was one of the very finest writers British children's literature has ever had, and everything she wrote has a touch of the particular vision and understanding of human nature that was hers alone.


from June Crebbin

The other day, Jo, a former pupil of mine contacted me to say she had heard a radio programme about Philippa Pearce and had been “immediately transported back to her primary school classroom listening to TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN.”

Philippa’s work has delighted me for over thirty five years, from the first time I read TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN, staying up into the small hours in a cottage in Fry-Up Dale in Yorkshire, unable to close the book until I reached the breathtaking skating to Ely and the final poignant paragraph.

Today I revel in the craftmanship of HERE COMES TOD, parts of which our five year old grandson, James, knows by heart: “Caught anything yet?” The garden gnome did not answer; and Tod said, “He never speaks. My dad says its because he’s made of concrete.”

Philippa visited my husband’s school and my school in 1976 and 1983 and over the years we became close friends. I have wonderful memories of conversations in our gardens and houses and numerous tea rooms!

I treasure Philippa’s letters. We wrote about poetry, children, crosswords and, of course, books. Her last letter to me included advice on meringue-making!(Philippa’s meringues were peaks of crunchy melt-in-the-mouth wispiness!) There was always something of interest to discuss.

I hear her voice in my head and have only to pick up one of her books to relish again the exquisite precision and passion of her writing.

June Crebbin, 28th August 2008