Nina Powles remembers how it felt to discover Mulan, a Chinese 'warrior princess', as a child, and looks into other stories of woman warriors in China and how their stories still resonate today. A statue of Lady Fu Hao 1. learn how to cut your own hair When I was five, there was only one doll in my doll collection that wasn’t white or blonde. She wore a yellow skirt and a jade-green top that covered her arms, with a gauzy blue and red sash around her waist. She had straight b

Nina Powles looks into the children's book scene in China, finding an industry that is still 'young and is currently experiencing rapid growth'. Pippi Lu & Lu Xixi (皮皮鲁与鲁西西) by Yuanjie Zheng Children’s books in China made international headlines recently, when news broke in March that the Chinese Government is introducing new restrictions on the number of foreign picture books for children published in China. The New York Times labelled the crackdown part of an 'ideological c

Nina Powles remembers the thrill of being scared by stories as a child, and not quite believing in ghosts but not not believing either ... Remember Scooby Doo, I Spy, Ripley's Believe It or Not, and Goosebumps? I spy a leaf, a whistle, a ring, Whenever we went on a plane when I was little, I always sat by the window. Not for the view, but because of the people in the sky. They were characters in an important story invented by my dad. Actually, the author of Peter Pan invented

Nina Powles revisits her childhood obsession with The Saddle Club series and finds their appeal, though flawed, remains. There was one book in the school library that I got out so many times I knew its exact place on the shelf. The cover had a wild horse on it, its mane and tail flowing in the wind, standing in a field of tall grass beneath a sky streaked with clouds. I can’t remember the book’s title, only that it was about a wild horse that lived somewhere in the plains of

For International Women's Day, an essay by Nina Powles about Hermione Granger, feminism and searching for yourself in books. My room at the house near the beach was small and blue. It was empty except for a fold-out bed and a desk in the corner, on top of which were my most important belongings: notebooks, scrap paper, coloured pencils, paints, and two or three Harry Potter books. Whenever we visited the house, it was like the real world disappeared out from under me. Everyth