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Roald Dahl (13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990 / Cardiff / Wales)
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a British novelist, short story writer, fighter pilot and screenwriter.
His parents were from Norway, but he was born in Wales, 1916. The family used to spend the summer holidays on a little Norwegian island, swimming, fishing and going by boat. When Roald was four years old, his father died, so his mother had to organise the trip alone for herself and her six children.
At school, he was always homesick. At St. Peter's Prep School, all the letters home were controlled by the headmaster, and afterwards at Repton Public School, he had to wear a horrible school uniform [with braces, waist coat, hat and lots of buttons, all black]. The younger boys were often punished by ... more »
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His writting has such a swagger to it.
He is a super great talented author too. I recommend Matilda. A story about a remarkable girl.
To celebrate Roald Dahl Day on the 13th September we are running a special poetry competition based around Roald Dahl's poem 'Mike Teavee'. We are giving some fantastic prizes, to find out more please follow this link
http: //www.tidy-booksblog.com/competitions/win-roald-dahl-poem-challenge/
Thank you and we are massive fans here at Tidy Books!
I was a substitute teacher years ago. On my first day of subbing I was called to a school with a third grade class missing it's teacher for the day. Apparently, she didn't show up and nobody had any clue where she was. I was called at 8: 05 and class had started at 8: 00.
In a mad rush I got ready and bolted out the door. When I arrived at school, I was rushed to the classroom of 35 anxious third graders and told, Good Luck! , by the absent minded principal who failed to give me any lesson plans or even a schedule for the day.
I had no idea what to do. It was my first day in a classroom by myself. I got the children settled down and in their seats. I introduced myself. I glanced around the room. The only familiar thing I saw was a shiny copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on the shelf next to me. I grabbed it. I told the children to sit on the floor in front of me. I pulled up a chair. I began reading.
I read that book to them, with as much animation and expression as I could muster from cove to cover! When Charlie won the ticket, the students had tears in their eyes. When the horrible children were stuck in pipes or blown up into blueberries, the students terrified eyes were in shock and their justice loving souls were delighted. At recess the kids didn't want to go. At lunch they wanted to return early to hear the end of the story, and as if by devine intervention, when I read the last line of the book, and closed the cover, the kids let out a satisfied sigh, smiled for a moment, and the dismissal bell rang.
I taught no lessons on my first day. I taught no spelling. No math. No history. I only read a book. Cover to cover. By an author that knew what children needed and wrote in a way that children understood and appreciated. It was a great start for a teacher. And I doubt any of those third graders ever forgot the day they were read to for 6 hours.