Quick Read
One book. Pick who is listening, deal the pages out, one thing hidden inside, and the last page belongs to the child alone.
The Adventure
Not “read this and you’ll get a star”. The crew cannot get the dog down from the gum tree until somebody reads what the moggie said — and they’re the only one in the room who knows the sounds.
Nothing here is sent anywhere and nothing is saved. This is the same map the app draws, from the same rules — a name, a stage and a few things they like.
Every place on the island is a sound.
Reading does not open new ground, because finishing a story cannot teach a child a sound, and a map that pretended otherwise would be a progress bar wearing phonics as a costume. What reading does is light up the ground already under their feet.
A turn
Who, where, and what goes wrong. In the app it rolls your own child's dog and your own Nan; here it lands on a sample book you can read straight away.
One to three. An island of six open sounds and a roll of six is a boat going in circles.
Only through ground they have already opened. A board game must never sail a child onto a sound nobody has taught them.
The coast deals a card — silly, moving, noticing or giving — and the grown-up reads it out.
The board picks the book. Nothing else in this category does that, and it is only possible because the map is made of phonics.
However they land is the story. That is rather the point.
The four coasts
Three ways to play
Most nights are the first one.
One book. Pick who is listening, deal the pages out, one thing hidden inside, and the last page belongs to the child alone.
Roll the story. Draw a card between the pages. Something is after the picnic and the whole crew is working against it. Ends on time whatever happens.
One book, many heroes. A class on a projector, or Nan on the link and cousins on the iPad. Nobody is scored and nobody loses.
One card between every couple of pages, read out by the grown-up — the child’s reading stays inside the book, where every word has been checked.
“Read the next page like a robot.”
Changes how, never whether.
“Everyone be a magpie for ten seconds.”
The bit that gets a wriggly five-year-old to sit back down.
“What do you reckon the dog does next?”
Dialogic reading. Worth about eight months of vocabulary.
“Find a word with sh on this page.”
Only ever sounds they have been taught.
“Swap the dog’s name for a body part. Again.”
Deployed strategically.
Most reading apps have all of these. We have read the evidence on each one and decided against it, and we would rather say so out loud than be quietly different.
Across 128 experiments, promising children something for reading measurably reduced how much they chose to read afterwards. The one reward that did not backfire was more reading. So the reward is more reading.
The map folds out to A3, the deck prints on a perforated sheet, the dice are a net you cut out, and the passport takes a stamp off the back cover of every book you print.