There’s a line in the song ‘What a Wonderful World’ that says ‘They’ll know much more than we’ll ever know.’ This weekend I discovered first-hand what Louis Armstrong meant when I showed my kids – aged 7 and 9 – the first few pages of a new piece of work I happen to be very proud of.

I knew things weren’t going well when the first comment was ‘Are there any funnier bits?’ The next piece of advice hit me smack square between the eyes. ‘There are too many similies (like, what?) and sorry to say, Dad, where is your solution? You’ve mapped out the problem, but every story needs a solution.’

Great. Thanks. No, no, I appreciate it…

Huh, no, just something in my eye.

My book ‘The Dog That Ate The Bathroom’ with illustrator Guy Harkness is in full swing. It’s been fun choosing images. Above  are some mock ups. Once the script was finished we opened up the phone lines on our breakfast show (Auckland’s Classic Hits) to see what bizarre items had been consumed by listener’s dogs. (Feel free to add to the list.)

Puzzle pieces, $6000 hearing aid

Had my tonsils out and they were next to the bed – dog ate them

Deceased pet rabbit which had been buried three weeks

Sheepskin rug, side of a pine table, the crutch of my knickers

100 vitamin tablets, a full fruit bowl and a gib board toilet wall

Last chapter of a book I was reading

4 seat belts 2 head rests and a heavy wooden garden gate

Cell phone, steering wheel, reading glasses and toothpicks

Better than fllcking snot? I'll take it

I’m stoked with the new cover for ‘Shot, Boom, Score,’ a kids novel I’ve been working on for a while now. It’s published by Allen and Unwin in February 2013 and is mostly aimed at 8-12 year olds.

My daughter is having it read to her class as we speak. Apparently ‘even the bullies who never read and never share their feelings and always throw snot when they should be listening really love it!’

So that’s good, I suppose.

Here’s a taster from the main character Toby:

I should tell you a bit more about my family and friends. You might have figured out my name is Toby, but you won’t know my surname. It’s Gilligan-Flannigan. There, I said it. I blame my parents. Thanks to both their stupid names, I’m stuck with the stupidest, longest name in the school. Sometimes all I want is to be called Jones or Smith. Then I wouldn’t stand out like a chicken with no head every morning when Mrs Martin-Edge does the roll call.

I’m the middle one in the family. Claire is four years older than me, and my brother Max is seven years younger. They’re both annoying, but at least Max doesn’t use all the hot water in the shower. Then again, Claire doesn’t poo her pants.