Today is of course the 76th anniversary of D-Day. War artist (and mater children's boom illustrator) Edward Ardizzone travelled with British troops as the D-Day invasion took place, sketching on the landing craft as the men prepared to hit the beach.
Before the war Ardizzone wrote and illustrated the first book that would bring him to fame: Little Tim and the Brave Sea Captain, published by Oxford University Press. Post-war he did many Penguin covers for children's books.
But in 1940 Edward Ardizzone began to work full-time for the War Office as an official war artist. He followed the British Expeditionary Force to France and covered it's retreat through Dunkirk.
The War Office felt Ardizzone’s intimate and understated style would help Britons better understand the War and what life in the forces was actually like. After France, Ardizzone was posted to Cairo and then Italy, before joining British troops for the D-Day landings.
Edward Ardizzone won many awards for his illustrations during his lifetime, and a blue plaque commemorating his work can be seen at Albion Quay in Ipswich.
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Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.
Today in pulp I look back at New Zealand's home-grow microcomputer, the 1981 Poly-1!
Press any key to continue...
The Poly-1 was developed in 1980 by two electronics engineering teachers at Wellington Polytechnic, Neil Scott and Paul Bryant, who wanted to create a computer for use in New Zealand schools. Education Minister Merv Wellington liked the idea and gave it the green light.
Backed by government finances, and in partnership with Progeni Computers, Polycorp was formed in 1980 to began work on the prototype for the official Kiwi school computer.