I read to my son every night, and it has become a ritual I have come to enjoy as much as he (hopefully) does. I have (gladly) crossed that stage of giant picture books with just three words on each page and no proper ending. I recently started books with less pictures and more words (and better 'actual' stories), and have introduced Enid Blyton to him.

Enid Blyton was my favourite author growing up - I started off with her magical world of fairies and pixies and goblins, toys that came alive at night, little children who were such characters and eventually moving to detective stories. There was something unique about her characters, her narrative, her language - that created a fascinating world for me - that I remember fondly to this day.

After decades, as I read them again (for my son), I realise it contains such magic that none of the other children's authors have been able to match.

I still find it hard to believe her books were banned by the BBC for decades for lacking 'literary value', and also that America has almost never heard of her - Dr Seuss (whose work I've just not been able to enjoy) seems to be the king of children's books there.

My son seems to love her stories too, and that says a lot about the timeless quality of her books. I look forward to devouring other books of hers that I never read as a child.