Delilah Dusticle has special powers and can completely eradicate dust. With her quiver pouch of special dusters she is soon promoted to Chief Dust Eradicator and Remover at the Fenchurch-Whittington House. Until one day a broken heart leads to her powers taking an unexpected turn. This is a touching and charming tale about the magic of friendship and self-discovery.
A suit of armour standing beside her in the hall coughed and shot out a puff of dust from its helmet. “Staff are not permitted to fraternise with the family and any shenanigans would lead to instant dismissal,” wheezed the armour.
“Don’t I know it,” said Delilah who then waved her duster at the falling dust cloud making it vanish in mid-air. For good measure she selected her dandelion duster and polished the armour, who was very ticklish and kept giggling. She then made her way to the staff kitchen for dinner.
Targeted Age Group:
Middle Grade and Up
So far I have only written middle grade stories with fantasy elements.
What Advice Would You Give Aspiring Writers?
I still feel like an aspiring writer myself, learning something new every day and working hard to improve my writing. All I feel I am qualified to say is if you are inspired to write a story, then you should go for it!
About me? Well I grew up in the UK, but was born in Gothenburg, Sweden. My childhood influences were a mix of Pippi Longstocking and The Flumps. I have always enjoyed making up characters and their life stories, therefore I jumped at the chance to study theatre at the University of Brighton. I later trained as a drama teacher and I have a Masters degree from Goldsmiths. I have gone back to my roots and I now live in Gothenburg, where I am writing the Delilah Dusticle series. People have told me they love reading my stories and I hope you have fun reading them too!
The inspiration behind Delilah Dusticle and writing her story came to me after an unsuccessful cleaning session. We were moving out of a beautiful old flat in the centre of Gothenburg, Sweden and I was tackling the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Within minutes I had more dust on me than on the duster and then I broke the hoover! The flat had a room off the kitchen which would have been the maid’s room. My mind kept wondering over to who she might have been and what special skills she had for dusting. Delilah’s tale then started to play out in my head and I just felt compelled to write it down