Obituary: Diana Wynne Jones

Diana Wynne Jones

1934 – 2011

Stella Paskins writes…

Some time during the mid-1970s, I read my first Diana Wynne Jones novel. It was called Dogsbody, and I loved it. It was the story of Sirius the Dog Star, trapped on Earth in the shape of an ordinary dog, with the lifespan of that creature to find a missing object with an exotic name. Even now I remember why this novel stood out for me. It was full of all sorts of things that I liked – fantastical things happening to ordinary people; a family set-up that actually seemed real; it brought the stars to life and made them god-like entities with extreme personalities; and there were also mythical creatures blending in with the everyday world.

It was clear that this writer understood exactly why dogs and cats behave the way they do, she didn’t talk down to her reader and she had a sideways view of things that I’d never come across before, but one that I ‘got’ immediately.

Over the next few years, I read every Diana Wynne Jones novel I could lay my hands on. This was harder than you might think – no Google or Amazon then! But I was persistent. At first I couldn’t believe that each new book would be as amazing as Dogsbody, but they always were. After a while I began to recognise themes, and types of characters, and likely scenarios – but whenever I told myself that I knew where a story was going, Diana would whip the (magic) carpet out from under my feet and end up astonishing me all over again.

With the publication of Fire and Hemlock in the 1980s, Diana had been officially promoted to position of My Favourite Author and nothing was going to shake that. My method of reading her went something like this:

1. Get new Diana Wynne Jones book.
2. Promise myself to savour it slowly.
3. Instantly read it as fast as possible, gulping it down in indigestible chunks.
4. Come out the other end, panting and a bit dazed, feeling thrilled and relieved at the same time.
5. Immediately read it again, this time at a more civilised pace.
6. Repeat as necessary.

My enjoyment of those novels must have played a huge part in my chosen career as a children’s book editor, although I didn’t recognise that for a very long time. And I never dreamed I’d ever work with her. But in the late 1990s, I found myself lugging what seemed like an entire bookcase of my books into HarperCollins, because Diana’s agent was looking for a new publishing home for her.

Meeting Diana for the first time is both a vivid and blurry memory. I know I was desperately nervous. I remember walking into this baking hot conservatory and seeing a most imposing character – an upright vision in deep blue, wearing the largest and most sparkly earrings I’d ever seen. I remember thinking, ‘Oh no, she’s going to hate me and what will I do then?’ and also knowing that I wasn’t going to be able to say a word. Sophie meeting Mrs Pentstemmon in Howl’s Moving Castle had it easy by comparison.

Then suddenly we were talking, and laughing, and I knew that everything was going to be all right. Only then did I allow myself to admit just how important to me that was.

I had been reading Diana as a teen, as a student and as an adult. I had hardly ever met another person who knew her work, so it’s not surprising that I felt a bit daunted when it came to sharing ‘my’ books with other people. Because, of course, the world is packed with Diana fans. And I think that one of the secrets of Diana’s appeal is that every one of those fans feels she’s written the perfect book just for them.

You care desperately about her characters because they are so real, and they stay with you long after you’ve finished the book. It’s why you can’t help cursing Hathaway when you’re stuck in roadworks or your train is late. It’s why you find yourself in conversations about being in love with Howl, Tom Lynn or Mordion – all flawed, all compelling. It’s why you yearn to be as brave and stalwart as Homeward Bounder Jamie, or trainee hero Polly, while secretly dreading that you’re probably the awful, pitiable Ivy.

I once heard someone wonder if DWJ sewed magic spells into the seams of her books, just like one of Wizard Howl’s suits, to keep her readers hooked. There is no doubt in my mind that she did.

I was Diana’s editor for just over a decade, but she’s been an influence on my life for far longer. Daft things, like being unable to eat salmon for two years because I empathised with Christopher Chant when he realised what had happened to the mermaids. But recognising when someone isn’t playing fair, or is using ‘niceness’ like a weapon, or being presented with ‘sentimental drivel’ – they all help to put the world into perspective, through the simple act of reading some of the best stories ever written.

In Fire and Hemlock, Mr Lynn sends Polly parcels of books from his travels. The kind of books, he says, that children shouldn’t grow up without reading. That’s exactly how I feel about Diana’s books – although not in an improving, ‘good for you’ way! Definitely in a ‘these could become your best friends’ way.

Diana Wynne Jones, I salute you – with a bucket of Creema di Leema and a feast of butter pies. Thanks for everything.

Read the BfK Authorgraph of Diana Wynne Jones

Stella Paskins is Publisher, Young Adult Fiction at Egmont.