Ways to Live Forever tells Sam’s story – it is his book, started when his teacher suggests that he and his mate Felix, a fellow cancer sufferer, write about themselves. Unlike the adults around him, Sam likes facts. The first thing he does is list five facts about himself:

List No. 1 Five Facts about me.
1. My name is Sam
2. I am eleven years old.
3. I collect stories and fantastic facts.
4. I have leukaemia.
5. By the time you read this, I will probably be dead.

Presented with such bald truths, the temptation is to sweep them under the carpet, to protect ourselves and children from the emotional pain of them. But the beauty of Ways to Live Forever is the skill with which Sally Nicholls has addressed these distressing facts in a way that does not play with our emotions – this is not a tear–jerker of a story. You don’t sob and forget. You read this book and learn some universal truths that will stay with you. It is an experience that leaves you wiser.

Sam explains why he likes facts:

‘I like knowing things. Grown-ups never understand this. You ask them something like, “Can I have a new bike for Christmas?” and they give you a waffly answer like, “Why don’t you see how you feel nearer Christmas?” Or you might ask your doctor, “How long do I have to stay in hospital?” and he’ll say something like, “Let’s wait and see how you get on”, which is doctor-speak for “I don’t know”.
Going to die is the biggest waffly thing of all. No one will tell you anything. You ask them questions and they cough and change the subject.’

Throughout the book Sam asks questions nobody answers, and they’re big questions such as: How do you know you’ve died?; Why does God make kids get ill?; Why do people have to die anyway?; Will the world still be there when I’m gone?

Throughout the cleverly constructed text, Sally Nicholls addresses all these with sensitivity and humour. From Sam and the rich cast of characters we learn not only what it’s like to have cancer but also how people react to terminally ill children: the almost suffocating concern of his Mum, the denial of the situation of his Dad, the everyday ordinariness of eight-year-old sister Ella who cannot understand why Sam gets special attention, and the no-nonsense Grandma, whose down-to-earth approach consistently reassures everyone.

We owe it to our children to talk about the facts of dying – and not just in the context of badgers or elderly relatives. Children aren’t afraid of the facts, and nor should we be. Sally Nicholls has made a brilliant start at addressing what should not be a taboo subject in the world of children’s books.