John Prater

As a child

I remember lying in bed on a warm summer evening, thinking how unfair it was to be put to bed while it was still light. The window was open and even though the main road from London to Bath ran outside, there was hardly any traffic (mid-1950s). The most prominent noise was the twittering swallows, swooping past. Whenever I hear that evocative sound now, I'm taken straight back to my bedroom in Castle Hill, Reading. I remember dripping and crackling, and my favourite: fried bread with sugar on. Pink blancmange, ice-cream cornets shaped like a giant pill with a rim of paper that had to be peeled off. Condensed milk, yummy. Boiled milk, yuk! Oh, happy healthy days!

As an adult

I left Brighton Art College in 1969 to pursue a career as a failed illustrator. Teaching beckoned, and I started in Basingstoke, where I met and married Julie thirty years ago. The arrival of two daughters prompted me to produce On Friday Something Funny Happened, which, amazingly, is still in print, just about. My first real contact with Walker Books was certainly memorable. I sent in a rough idea and three lovely ladies came to visit me. Unfortunately, two security men from Polydor records also turned up about a tape I had sold through a record-collecting magazine. A mate of mine had come across it in a car boot sale, and as I was selling some records, I offered to include it in my advert. What we had sold was the studio mastertape of one of the the Cure's LPs, which should never have been removed from the record company's vaults. My career seemed to be going down the pan. Fortunately, after an hour, the men in suits were satisfied I wasn't a major bootlegger and, thank you very much, the very patient representatives of Walker Books offered a shaken me a contract.

As an artist

I cycle to my workroom a couple of miles from home. I've done this for about six years. I used to work at home but there were too many distractions there (records to sort, play and clean, magazines to read and coffee to be taken into the garden, etc.) The only distraction now is the way the building shakes whenever a bus passes. But it's great because I've doubled my work rate. I try not to think too much about "my job" because, unlike most other professions, there is no manual or textbook to tell you what to do. I'm only saying this because at the moment I have no clue what I'm doing next. Usually though, when staring at a large, blank drawing board, I ask myself, "Would you rather be here or stood in front of a blackboard in a classroom?" The answer, to me, is obvious and I count my blessings.

Things you didn't know about John Prater

1. I love big bonfires but you've got to get them really going. There's nothing worse than a sad, smoky one.
2. I collect records and CDs, and have thousands of them.
3. My favourite artists include the Beatles, Neil Young, R.E.M, the Pixies, the Beach Boys and '60s soul music.
4. I love peeling off sticky labels and rolling them through my fingers.
5. Old American cars are great and I drive a '70s Chevrolet that is frighteningly fast, but I am looking for a '50s pick-up truck.
6. Cooking is great, but only if you're doing it for others too.
7. I love cats, but really can't stand dogs.
8. I don't watch much TV, but never miss Time Team, The Office or the Formula 1 Grand Prix.
9. My great-grandfather was a carpenter and worked on building the Titanic. He nearly sailed on the maiden voyage to finish the job. He was pretty chuffed he didn't go, after the event.
10. Lists are really hard to put together.