GP Taylor used to be a vicar. Now, after the 'darkness' of Philip Pullman and JK Rowling, he writes children's fantasies that show God positively - and sell by the million, writes Arminta Wallace
Pow! Wham! Biff! Your parents may not realise it, but a battle between good and evil is well and truly on - and it's being slogged out between the lines of bestselling children's fiction. In the dark corner, the secular brigade: Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, which the Catholic Herald described as "worthy of the bonfire", and JK Rowling's Harry Potter stories, which are, according to the American Library Association, "the most censored books in America".
Enter the forces of light, led by a former Church of England vicar named GP Taylor. His debut novel was given a nod of approval by the man formerly known as Cardinal Ratzinger. The "Christian ethos" that underpins his writing also goes down well with US fundamentalists such as Pat Robertson, the television preacher. All of which, given the lucrative nature of contemporary kids' stuff, has translated from God to Mammon with almost supernatural swiftness. Since he appeared on the literary scene, in autumn 2002, Taylor has sold 3.5 million books, leading the London Times to dub him "hotter than Potter". Taylor seems bemused by the fuss. "I just sit down and write them," he says of his books, on the phone from his Yorkshire home.
It's his second interview of the morning - on what is, officially, a day off. The promotional tour for his latest book, Tersias, has already taken him all over the UK, and next week it will bring him to Cork, Dublin and Belfast to perform his one-man show. "It's a madcap look at the 18th century, done in 18th-century dress," says Taylor. "Everything from the pulling of teeth to how they dealt with their ailments. What life was really like."
He also makes up stories on the spot, on topics suggested by the audience. Such as? "We did a glass of water, and there was one about a Thai cookery book. It's really an encouragement, not just to children and teenagers but to everybody, to enjoy writing. To let their minds wander."
After the show, he says, people tend to come up and ask if he's really a stand-up comedian - and, in best stand-up tradition, he has fallen foul of the political-correctness police. "I was thrown out of a school in Cornwall this week for saying 'bum', 'fart' and 'bogey'," he says. "Well, they didn't actually throw me out. What they said was: 'We don't think your words are appropriate for 14-year-old children.' " Or, indeed, for a vicar.
Taylor's first ecclesiastical posting was to St Mary's in the North Sea fishing port of Whitby - the setting, as Dracula fans won't need reminding, for Bram Stoker's Gothic masterpiece. What sort of vicar was he? "My sermons were . . . How would you put it? In my last church I started off with 15 members, and we ended up full." His recipe for success is straightforward. "Never preach for more than 10 minutes; never write your sermons down - it must come from the heart, not the mind; when appropriate, be humorous; and end with something that gives people hope."
Taylor no longer works in a parish, although he is, he says, "still a practising priest" and is available for weddings and funerals. But what was a vicar doing writing children's books to begin with? "I just saw millions of books which featured witchcraft and magic on the shelves for kids," he says. "I wanted to write a book which would talk about all that from a different angle. I wanted to say: 'Look, there's a possibility there could be a big God out there who's very powerful.' But not the God of the Church. I think God operates just as much outside the Church as he does inside it."
Taylor's first book, Shadowmancer, is set in 17th-century Yorkshire, in a world that is part real, part fantasy. It stars a young black African boy of Islamic origin, two English children, Kate and Tom, and a villainous vicar by the name of Obadiah Demurral. The God figure in the book is called Riathamus; the name means "king of kings" and used to be applied, according to Taylor, to King Arthur. He also uses smatterings of Hebrew and Greek. "The kids think I'm making up a sort of Star Trek-ian language, but it's usually something much more down to earth," he says.
Isn't there a technical problem for a novelist who invokes God in support of one side or another? Isn't He always going to win? "Quite the contrary," says Taylor. "If you read Philip Pullman's The Amber Spyglass, God is portrayed in a very negative way. He loses, and he's senile. God hasn't had a good press in children's literature. Neither has Christianity. It's always made out to be foolish, and Christians are portrayed as wimps. I wanted God to become muscular again, and powerful, worthy of being followed."
Taylor insists that he is more than just a God-slot guy. "There are more references to pop music in my books than there are to theology," he says. He is also, he adds, keen on jazz, cricket and traditional music. His family left Co Down in 1919 and he has - Brian Kerr, take note - an Irish grandfather. It should therefore come as no surprise when one of Shadowmancer's more swashbuckling characters confronts another, sword in hand, and demands: "Stand and deliver, or the devil he may take yer!" Taylor chuckles. "Yeah. And what's the name of the other character involved? Captain Farrell. Just a little joke which Irish readers might enjoy."
This Irish reader, for one, found a dark side to Shadowmancer. Its chilling final chapter invokes destruction on a level that makes JK Rowling's Professor Snape, at his malevolent worst, seem about as menacing as Rumpelstiltskin. At various stages of the story there was a little too much conversation and too little action. As for the ending, it is abrupt and, to put it mildly, inconclusive. "Ah," says Taylor. "Well, what happened there was, I self-published Shadowmancer, and I could only afford to print 300 pages, because otherwise it would have been impossible to pay for it. So I had to cut the end."
Smart move: his publisher, Faber and Faber, has now commissioned a sequel - for a sum Taylor has been forbidden to disclose - in addition to the 11-book golden-handcuffs deal he has already signed with the company.
Shadowmancer, meanwhile, is about to be reissued as a comic, and screen options for both it and Taylor's second novel, Wormwood, have been snapped up by Universal Pictures. The author is also due to make his debut as a television presenter, with a myths-and-legends storytelling programme, GP Taylor's Uninvited Guests, which is due to be shown on ITV in January. Looks as if we're going to be seeing a good deal of Taylor in the months to come. Perhaps he really does have God on his side. More likely, though, it's just that old familiar Mammon madness.
Tersias is published by Faber Children's Books, £9.99.
GP Taylor is at Mayfield Library, Cork, on Tuesday; Dublin Central Library on Wednesday; and Elmwood Hall, Belfast, on Thursday. His web address is www.shadowmancer.com