Explore the vast range of titles available.

I first saw Michel Thomas on a TV documentary about his revolutionary language teaching and in particular his work at City and Islington College in London, then I read an article on him in the Guardian - I thought it was extraordinary, ground-breaking stuff. I've believed for a long time that education is in need of a revolution. I went to Camden School for Girls - I was lucky; it was a grammar school and I had wonderful teachers. But I can't remember much. I'd like to know what you can really learn from 40-minute lessons. I watched Michel Thomas teaching these ordinary kids to speak French in a few days, I saw what happened to their faces and I thought, I've got to meet this man. The excitement of learning something new was overwhelming. Michel not only taught me Spanish, he opened my eyes to the possibilities of a completely different kind of learning. Michel forbids his students to practise, or to try to remember. Michel takes the burden off the student and upon himself. He got very upset the second day because I couldn't remember something simple and I started to cry, because I was frustrated with myself. He said, `You don't understand - to me it's my fault.' And the effect of that is remarkable, it forces you to relax.

I generally liked school. My favourite subject was design and technology, taught by my favourite teacher, Mr [Marek] Kaminski. He was such a calm chap - and very different from other teachers. He was quiet and there was something so cool about him. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing and where he was going. With Mr Kaminski, it was a case of either work or don't - it's up to you. He told us a lot about his previous school, which was for children with learning difficulties - it really interested me and for my A- level project I designed a lathe with lots of safety aspects, especially for kids with learning difficulties to use. I also loved the fact that Mr Kaminski was open to people working whenever they wanted to. I remember making a table in my lunch times and one of the girls in the year above seeing it and actually crying because it was so beautiful! I was knocked down by a drunk driver when I was 15 and badly hurt. My mum always told me I changed after that. But it was also a hard time for me because of growing up. By the time I joined the sixth form I was basically desperate to leave Wolverhampton - it felt so stifling. So it was good to have Mr Kaminski's lessons to go to, they were so soothing. He also opened my eyes up to a whole lot of things that I'm still interested in now, particularly William Morris and everything he stood for. It was inspiring to hear how one person could delve into painting, craft, poetry, socialism - loads of different things.

Before I went to Stantonbury Campus, I had a lot of trouble with school. I was dyslexic, but nobody knew. I remember a teacher making me write my name again and again - and I just couldn't spell it. I had a lot of time out of classes sitting in corridors. It was miserable.{QQ} When I was 12 I went to Stantonbury Campus - an extraordinary state school. We didn't have to wear uniform and we called the teachers by their first names. There was no detention, and Stantonbury took children who were expelled from other schools.{QQ} The director of drama was Roy Nevitt - he is the most amazing man. He made me feel that whatever I had to say was special. He looked like a refined, gentle bear but also something like an owl - with a little bit of eagle in his eyes. Doing drama with Roy made me feel I had a voice.{QQ}

My time at primary was the happiest part of my school life. I wasn't very good at being at school. I like to think that it was because I'm independent, creative and free-spirited. That's the positive side. The negative is that I was a pain in the arse! Booth wasn't a wholly pleasant experience. I loathed the teacher I had in my last-but-one year. She used the `slipper' on us and frightened me so much that I couldn't sleep at nights and used to wet the bed. I ran away from school all the time, because I was terrified of her. So it was a great relief to get into the classroom of my favourite teacher, Mr (Paul) Bilsborough, in my last year at primary! He was the first male teacher I'd had -in fact, apart from the headteacher, he was the only one in the school. His approach was quite butch and he seemed really solid, very clear and uncomplicated. He was quite strict and pushed us academically. He was also really into sport, especially football, which I loathed. I'm sure having such a `nancy-boy' in the class wasn't what he was after, and in fact I think he thought I was a ghastly child - he's not one of those sentimental teachers.

It was clear from the first that Marion Studholme was really special. She had not long retired from singing as a high soprano and arrived at the Royal College of Music with all sorts of techniques to pass on and strong ideas. Singing is a very physical thing and you need to have a rapport with your teacher. I felt Marion and I were on the same wavelength. She spoke very much in imagery - as a singer you can't see your instrument so you have to talk about what it feels like. If your teacher is not on your wavelength then it can be difficult to understand what they're on about. You need someone who understands the way you tackle a role and a character. With opera singing, or any singing, it's not just a matter of singing the notes, you're interpreting them and you're putting through that character what you think . . . how you think that character would behave. When you sing, what you're thinking comes through in the sound. Certain ways of thinking help you get the best sound. Nobody had spoken to me about that before Marion. I think of her as the beginning of it all.

Mr (Basil) Edwards was legendary - a larger than life character. He taught me English in my first year and in the sixth form, by which time I had become that weird teenage mixture of very bolshie and full of myself yet unconfident at the same time. He must have heard the same stuff coming out of teenagers' mouths year after year. But he always made us feel that what we were saying was interesting and worthwhile.He kept alive his pleasure in young people and their ideas and aspirations. He had tremendous energy and enthusiasm for everything - from railways to coins - and that has remained undiminished. English with Mr Edwards was a broad arts education, really. We never knew what we'd be doing - we could be looking at sculpture or a film or a book. And the emphasis was always on debate and analysis. He encouraged vigorous free thinkers.

Carole taught me in collective workshops and also privately until I was 18. She has given me so much. She instilled discipline and she nurtured my love of literature and drama. She got me interested in every aspect of the theatre, including the technical side, the voice production, the breathing - really everything. I did my Guildhall examinations with Carole. Sometimes she'd even help me with my school work. For example, when I did Antony and Cleopatra, it was Carole who gave clarity to all the difficult passages. I didn't enjoy `real' school at all. I went to Hove Country Grammar School for Girls. It was very strict, and sadly there was no teacher there who inspired me. The ethos of the school was very much towards maths and science and I was firmly into the arts. My teachers taught me a lesson by not allowing me to act in school plays. Their argument was that I was too involved in acting and not paying attention to other subjects. So, instead of encouraging me in what I was good at (English and history), they punished me for what I wasn't good at. I failed my maths O level twice and now consider myself to be numerically dyslexic, but my problems are more likely due to uninspiring teaching.

The big reason for me liking the sixth form was Mr (John) Foggin, my A- level English teacher. We thought him very eccentric. He had a limp and wild hair and used to practically foam at the mouth when he talked about the writers he liked. He made us read TS Eliot's The Waste Land out loud. I remember saying that I didn't understand it but thought it sounded like music. He nearly fell off his chair. `Yes! Yes! That's it! It's more of a musical score!' Later he told me that if anyone ever said TS Eliot was just a repressed bank clerk, I should just read them a particular bit of The Waste Land about the hyacinth garden. It stuck in my mind all through the years and is the preface of the book I'm writing now. I was argumentative and Mr Foggin never crushed debate - in fact, disagreeing with him seemed to make him glow. I was very contradictory and not many people worked me out. Mr Foggin was one of the rare few. I think he cottoned on that I wasn't happy. But he never confronted me directly with my problems: he did his helping through recommending books - this subtlety was exactly right for me. He introduced me to feminism, to Lisa Alfa's Skinflicks and Susie Orbach's Fat is a Feminist Issue.

Barry Williams was my English teacher when I was 12 and then again from the age of 15 and all through the sixth form. When I was 12, I made his life a misery by shouting things out from the back of the class - just to get a few cheap laughs. I wasn't a thug, but I was annoying. We had a French teacher whom we used to make cry every week - some teachers are like injured wildebeest at the edge of the herd. I feel terrible about it. But by the time I was 15 things had changed. I remember Barry's first report after the gap - `John (O'Farrell) has matured greatly'. We used to call Barry `Sweet William'. He'd come to class in the morning and announce `This lesson, we are NOT talking about Fawlty Towers again.' Then we'd spend the lesson doing just that. He did the best impressions of Sybil and Manuel. Then he'd do Margot from The Good Life and Alison Steadman in Abigail's Party. Hearing my English teacher enthuse about sitcoms made me think they were worthwhile, but of course this was the golden age of sitcoms.

St Michael's Academy was a great school. It fulfilled my expectations and I really enjoyed it. My favourite subject was science and that was mainly down to my science teacher, Mr (Bernard) Walsh. His first name is Bernard (Walsh) but we never got to know that at school. Mr Walsh was such an inspirational teacher. It was my first introduction to science and he would never just lay the subject down on a plate - he'd make us think. I had an inquisitive mind and I loved the challenge, as well as finding his lessons incredibly interesting. He made science come alive. Once he even took us outside and launched a rocket to show us how certain forces worked. It was fantastic. He had a gift and made science easily the most popular subject.