The Children's Book-Show Competition is a chance for young readers to be writers.

    Reading, it seems, is coming back in fashion, if a survey by the famous National Literacy Trust (the NLT) is true. It shows that the percentage of children who admit enjoying reading has grown for the first time in the past 8 years.

    So it's a good time to launch a competition that includes a shed-load of new books for schools as prizes. The Children's Book-show Competition, backed by The Independent, is taking to the roads again from the start of next term, with a nation-wide tour of 15 big cities, featuring a line-up of a dozen children's writers and illustrators (插图画家) aiming to persuade pupils to follow their footsteps.

    The competition, launched by the children's writer and illustrator Jessica Souhami, has two categories: the under-nine's and nine to 13-year-olds.

    Children are asked to choose their favorite fairy or folk tale and set it in an extraordinary place.

    Then they are to retell it with the aid of drawings and writings—whether it is set at sea, on a distant planet, in the future or in the past. The closing date for the competition is 30th November.

    “Tell your tale in pictures and in words, ”say the organizers of the competition. “It can be in a picture book or comic-book format.”

    The winner of each competition will receive a signed copy of a book by each of the 12 authors involved in this year's tour, plus £150 worth of books for their school. The runners-up will receive a signed copy of Souhami's new book.

    After the operation, Peter suffered severe pain, but insisted that he didn't need any treatment. One evening, he found Susan, his wife, crying in the kitchen of their apartment in a rare outburst of frustration. “If you won't help yourself, no one else can,” she said.

    Peter started a list “How to Help Myself”, and on it he wrote, “Keep communicating with the doctors, even if they are dark thoughts.” On October 20th, a few days before his 33 birthday, Peter wrote in a Facebook post, “It's been hard to get along with having an incurable Grade 4 brain cancer; it's been hard not to get angry and sad about it; and it's been hard to accept that modern medicine isn't able to fix me.” But at the same time, he wrote, “Every day I wake up not-dead is a gift.”

    Peter and Susan had other lists, detailing the things that they hoped to accomplish in life, which included a trip to Wimbledon; climbing Mt. Snowdon in Wales; and a list of musical wishes—from learning the Bach sonatas (奏鸣曲) and partitas (变奏曲) to performing the first violin part in a concert.

    Peter started working on Bach's six sonatas and partitas, the most difficult parts, which George Enescu, a world-famous violinist, once described as the Himalayas (喜马拉雅山) for violinists. Peter practiced every day, even if he could manage only fifteen minutes between medical treatments. As he mastered each piece, he posted his performances on Facebook. He finished on November 12th, then turned to the even more difficult Paganini caprices (随想曲), which he had often listened to in a recording by Itzhak Perlman. “It's something I always wanted to play when I grew up, like wanting to be a great baseball player,” he said.

    A small robot may help children who are recovering from long-term illnesses in the hospital or at home. These children may feel isolated from their friends and classmates. The robot takes their place at school. Through the robot, the children can hear their teachers and friends. They also can take part in class from wherever they are recovering.

    Anyone who has a long-term illness knows that recovering at home can be lonely. This can be especially true for children. They may feel left out. Now, these children may have a high-tech friend to help feel less lonely. That friend is a robot. The robot is called AV1. AV1 goes to school for a child who is homebound while recovering from a long-term illness. And the child's school friends must help. They carry the robot between classes and place the robot on the child's desk.

    A Norwegian company called No Isolation created the robot. The co-founders of No Isolation are Karen Dolva and Marius Aabel. Dolva explains how the robot AV1 works. She says, from home, the child uses an iPad or a phone to start the robot. Then they use the same device to control the robot's movements. At school, the robot becomes the eyes, ears and voice of the child.

    So, it sits at the child's desk in the classroom and the child uses an iPad or a phone to start it, control its movement with touch, and talk through it.

    The student can take part in classroom activities from wherever they are recovering — whether at home or from a hospital bed. The robot is equipped with speakers, microphones and cameras that make communication easy.

    What a day! I started at my new school this morning and had the best time. I made lots of new friends and really liked my teachers. I was nervous the night before, but I had no reason to be. Everyone was so friendly and polite. They made me feel at ease. It was like I'd been at the school for a hundred years!

    The day started very early at 7:00 am. I had my breakfast downstairs with my mom. She could tell that I was very nervous. Mom kept asking me what was wrong. She told me I had nothing to worry about and that everyone was going to love me. If they didn't love me, Mom said to send them her way for a good talking to. I couldn't stop laughing.

    My mom dropped me off at the school gates about five minutes before the bell. A little blonde (金发的) girl got dropped off at the same time and started waving (招手) at me. She ran over and told me her name was Abigail. She was very nice and we became close straight away. We spent all morning together and began to talk to another girl called Stacey. The three of us sat together in class all day and we even made our way home together! It went so quickly. Our teacher told us that tomorrow we would really start learning and developing new skills.

    I cannot wait until tomorrow and feel as though I am really going to enjoy my time at my new school. I only hope that my new friends feel the same way too.

    "When someone is rude to you, it can put you in a bad mood. It may even lead you to be rude to someone else, creating a chain of rudeness. In fact, this troubling chain may even be caused by simply seeing someone be rude to another person. You don't even have to be the target of the had behavior," stated a researcher.

    The researchers worked with 81 persons, with occupations ranging from security to business to medicine, who were asked to complete online surveys over a 10-day period. Participants recorded their moods when they woke up; and in the evening, they described their experiences over the course of that day.

    Each morning the participants also viewed a short video, describing workplace interaction of some kind. Half of the mornings, the video included some kind of rudeness while the other half had some kind of warm interaction in the workplace. Rudeness was conveyed through various means, including a lack of eye contact or unpleasant language.

    Participants who watched the rudeness videos reported seeing or experiencing rudeness during the day, and they were also more likely to escape from fellow employees to avoid being the victims of rudeness themselves. They reported their overall work suffered that day as a result.

    Not all participants were affected by the rudeness videos, however. A few weeks before the study began, the participants completed an evaluation that measured their self-confidence and emotional stability among other things. The participants who scored higher on this evaluation were significantly less likely to be influenced by the rudeness.

    Consequently, one of the researchers recommended that companies hire managers who can limit exposure to rudeness, provide plenty of positive reinforcement (强化) and build a civil workplace environment. This, in turn, could help employees build their confidence levels and help them better handle workplace rudeness.

    I'm a storyteller. And I would like to tell you a few personal stories.

    I grew up reading British and American children's books. When I began to write, I wrote exactly the kinds of stories I was reading: All my characters were white and blue-eyed, they ate apples and talked a lot about the weather, despite the fact that I lived in Nigeria. We ate mangoes, and we never talked about the weather. Because all I had read were books in which characters were foreign, I had become convinced that books by their very nature had to have foreigners in them. Things changed when I discovered African books. Because of writers like Chinua Achebe and Camara Laye, I went through a mental shift in my idea of literature. I realized that people like me, girls with skin the color of chocolate, could also exist in literature. I started to write about things I recognized. So what the discovery of African writers did for me was this: It saved me from having a single story of what books are. The year I turned eight, we got a new house boy Fide from a nearby rural village. The only thing my mother told us about him was that his family was very poor. And when I didn't finish my dinner, my mother would say，"Finish your food! Don't you know? People like Fide's family have nothing." So I felt enormous pity for Fide's family. Then one Saturday, we went to his village to visit, and his mother showed us a beautifully patterned basket that his brother had made. I was astonished. It had not occurred to me that anybody in his family could actually make something. Their poverty was my single story of them.

    Years later, when I left Nigeria to go to university in the United States, my American roommate asked where I had learned to speak English so well, and was confused when I said that Nigeria happened to have English as its official language. What struck me was this: She had felt sorry for me even before she saw me. My roommate had a single story of Africa: a single story of catastrophe.

    Of course, Africa is a continent full of catastrophes. But there are other stories that are not about catastrophe, and it is very important, it is just as important, to talk about them. The consequence of the single story is this: It robs people of dignity. It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasizes how we are different rather than how we are similar.

    So what if my mother had told us that Fide's family was poor and hardworking? What if we had an African television network that broadcast diverse African stories all over the world? What if my roommate knew about my Nigerian publisher, Muhtar Bakare, a remarkable man who left his job in a bank to follow his dream and start a publishing house? What if my roommate knew about my friend Funmi Iyanda, a fearless woman who hosts a TV show, and is determined to tell the stories that we prefer to forget?

    My Nigerian publisher and I have just started a non-profit called Farafina Trust, and we have big dreams of building libraries and providing books for state schools, and also of organizing lots of workshops in reading and writing, for all the people who are eager to tell our many stories.

    Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories can break the dignity of a people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity. When we realize that there is never a single story about any place, we regain a kind of paradise.