I'm Dougal Trump and It's Not My Fault

Dear me, I seem to have a London buses thing going on here: don't post anything for a month or so and then three posts in the following month. Well, just like Dougal, it's not really my fault. Blame SCBWI and networking and all that - can I really help it if there are interesting events and lots of good books to review all at the same time?

But more of Dougie. I'm Dougal Trump and It's NOT My Fault is signed quite clearly, on the cover, by 'me, D. Trump'.

That's a fib, of course, because it's really by a lovely and very respectable lady called Jackie Marchant who lives in North West London with her family and dog and is as far removed from a mischevious schoolboy as you could possibly imagine (although she does have a nice line in ludicrously named and bizarrely concocted canapes!).

Now I've known Jackie for a long while. We're both active members of SCBWI and we happen to be members of the same online critique group too, which means that I'm more than familiar with Jackie's writing. For teens. I had an inkling she wrote for a younger audience but Dougie was a total revelation. It was like discovering your mum had an alter ego as a lap dancer. Well, maybe not quite that extreme, but you catch my drift.

Anyway, enough of my wittering. You want to know about Dougie, don't you? The back of the book is a helpful starting place:

Dougie has found a note pinned to the shed. It reads:

Do not disturb. Creature will be collected in the next 3 days. Tranquilisers will wear off shortly. If the creature wakes, give it fruit and keep it quiet, or else. If it dies so will you. If anyone finds out what is in the shed, you are dead.  

Now eat this note.

Of course, Dougal can't eat the note, but the dog can, and things just get worse from that point on. His older sister, Sibble (or Sybil as she would have it spelt) treats him exactly as an self respecting teenage sister would treat a younger brother, despicably. His mother nags him, constantly. And his dad dishes out car-cleaning punishments like there's no tomorrow. Even his friends seem to desert him and his goal-keeping exploits are severely curtailed when he breaks his arm (for the third time).

And then there's the creature in the shed.

So, will Dougal be killed by (1) the Creature, (2) Sibble, (3) Mum, (4) Dad, (5) One of the neighbours (6) One of his 'friends'? And, by the time he has written, edited, and re-edited his Will to take into account all these suspects, will there be anyone left to inherit if he does die? In answering these questions, Dougie (or Jackie) trots us through a laugh out loud story that solves the mystery of the creature and even allows Dougal to revel in the role of hero, for a short while. The publicity blurb describes Dougal as Bart Simpson meets Just William. Personally, I'd throw Horrid Henry into that mix as well. Dougie has Henry's sneering loathing for his sibbling and his unerring knack to be looking guilty even when he's innocent of the crime. He's also got Henry's magnet-like attraction for trouble.

But what those other three don't have, and Dougie does, is the Dog.

The Dog is a masterpiece. Anyone who's ever owned a dog, or even lived around one for a short time will recognise this monster. The publicity blurb says it 'inhales socks.' That description doesn't go half way. There is one scene, with the Dog, Mum, and a zebra crossing which had me laughing so much I nearly set fire to myself. (OK I probably shouldn't have been reading and cooking simultaneously but I didn't want to put the book down and the family were screaming to be fed.) I won't reveal more because that would spoil it for you, but just take my advice and make sure your in a safe place before you open this book.

I'm Dougal Trump and It's Not My Fault is the first of what we all hope will be a long series. I'm Dougal Trump, Where's My Tarantula will be the next. Heaven alone knows what will come out of Jackie's startling imagination after that. But look out world, Dougal Trump is here, and little boys' lives have just got a whole lot sillier.

The lovely people at Macmillan sent me a copy to review. If you would like your own copy please click on the link below and Amazon will kindly send me a small contribution to the maintenance of this website.