JULIA’S MOST HEARTWARMING STORY? HER OWN...
AND OVERCOME TRAGEDY SHE’S THE WORLD’S REJECTION TO BECOME AUTHOR. FAVOURITE CHILDREN’S PASSING JULIA DONALDSON’S NOW SECRET TIPS SO THAT ON HER HAND EVERYONE CAN TRY THEIR THE GRUFFALO AT WRITING A HIT LIKE
There are always ideas percolating in Julia Donaldson’s head, and right now she’s mulling a story about legs. Most of the time, when she’s staring out of the semibasement window of the study where she creates her books, all she sees are legs; fat ones, thin ones, welldressed and naked ones.
But when the primary school across the road finishes in the afternoons she also gets to see faces; dozens of them as the children jostle at her window to see the genius – the woman who wrote the stories they grew up reading – at work. The smiling faces might be charming, but they can also be irritating, admits Julia, who has a child-like candour to go with her huge imagination.
‘It makes it all a bit more difficult,’ she sighs. ‘If I stopped to wave at each of them it would only encourage them more and I’d never get any work done.’ Despite being one of the world’s bestselling authors, with sales of 90 million books, sitting alone at her desk, thinking and writing, crossing things out and starting again, is still one of the things the 72-year-old loves doing most.
If you have a child or grandchild who grew up in the last
20 years, the chances are you’ll have read at least one and probably several Julia Donaldson books to them. She has plenty of imitators but no rival when it comes to the runaway success of her constant inventiveness; from the clever mouse and stupid monster in The Gruffalo to the clumsy witch of
Room On The Broom, the adventurous snail in The Snail And The Whale, blundering dragon Zog and her latest book about a woolly bear caterpillar who just wants to be like the others.
Parents know that when they pick up a Julia Donaldson book it will look at the world in a new way; it will be whimsical, poetic, expressive, perceptive, often moving and always have a clever ending. It’s little wonder that adaptations of her books are now a much-anticipated part of the annual Christmas TV output.
Her readers are the most discerning of all. If a child doesn’t like a book, they simply won’t want to hear it again. This is why Julia shrugs off the many celebrities who have tried to knock her off her perch, Meghan Markle being the latest to try her hand at a picture book. ‘These books might get a lot of publicity because people are curious but editors will tell you that all the publicity in the world can’t make people love something,’ she says. ‘Each book needs to be judged on its own merit but if it’s not very good – some of these books really aren’t – then it won’t succeed.
‘But I think it makes a difference
CELEBRITY BOOKS MIGHT GET PUBLICITY – BUT SOME OF THEM REALLY AREN’T VERY GOOD
PICTURE BOOKS CAN OFTEN BE FRIVOLOUS, BUT ALSO QUITE DEEP – THAT’SWHAT I LOVE ABOUT THEM
if the so-called celebrity is a writer anyway. David Walliams was best known for his comedy sketches, which he wrote and were very good, so it was quite natural for him to continue to write. His books have been very successful, others less so.’
Julia stumbled into writing picture books in a way you could imagine one of her characters tumbling into a different world. Growing up she wanted to be an actress and in an alternate universe she’d be like her heroines Judi Dench or Helen Mirren. But she wrote her own story and it has several twists.
She grew up in an artistic house in London with her parents, sister, aunt and uncle and cat. Her father, a lecturer, was crippled by polio but played the cello in string quartets while her mother sang with the local choir. On holiday once Julia heard a woman change the lyrics to a Gilbert and Sullivan song into a satirical sketch and it became something she did at home.
‘It worries me that because of Covid children haven’t been allowed to sing at school,’ says Julia, who still likes to write tunes for her stories. ‘It was so important for me, and there may be children who have lost the confidence to sing.’
Julia’s life has always been full of music. Fellow student Malcolm Donaldson, who was training to become a doctor, went busking with her in Paris and they later fell in love. Turned down by drama school, she was making a living as a writer of ditties for children’s programmes, as well as being a mother to three boys, when a publisher asked if she wanted to turn one of them, A Squash And A Squeeze, into a book. Famously Axel Scheffler, the London-based German illustrator whose name will forever be entwined with Julia’s, was the first person available to create the illustrations; if the two people who rejected the job had said yes, life might be very different for both of them and for parents around the world.
The book was mildly successful but it wasn’t until six years later that they went on to have the big hit which was to change everything for her. She’d come up with the idea for The Gruffalo, loosely based on a Chinese folk tale, and sent it to publishers but no one was interested.
Julia was sure it could be a success so, unusually, approached Axel herself to do some illustrations. The book has now sold an amazing 13 million copies. And while both Julia and Axel work with others, it is their books together that retain the most magic. She is estimated to be worth more than £30m, although she frequently claims she isn’t as rich as people think (and she’s so careful with money she recycles her wrapping paper).
Julia still acts, in a fashion. She and Malcolm, now a retired consultant paediatrician, Axel and whoever else they manage to rope in, often perform versions of the books in front of adoring children – she even has a room at their West Sussex home simply for the costumes and props. This summer they’re hoping to be at the Edinburgh Fringe festival alongside professional actors while her children and eight grandchildren also get in on the act. ‘We’re like the Von Trapp family,’ she laughs.
Her Princess Mirror-Belle books, which have just been adapted for the BBC, were inspired by her eldest son Hamish, who died in 2003 aged just 25. Like his mother, Hamish was incredibly creative and had two imaginary friends who would pop out of a mirrored lift. In Princess Mirror-Belle, a girl called Ellen discovers that the reflection in her bathroom mirror belongs to a princess called Belle.
But with Hamish’s vivid imagination there was a darker side. Even as a young boy he appeared to be ‘wired differently’ and was excluded from school for being disruptive and aggressive. Aged 16 he had his first psychotic episode and a year later was diagnosed with a schizoaffective disorder. He was frequently in trouble with the police, drinking and smoking cannabis. In 2003 he stepped in front of a train.
Julia, so ensconced in her world of dragons and mice, ducks and worms, has such an air of simple and untouched innocence that it’s hard to reconcile with the tough times she’s been through. But, she says, there has been a relief in work. It allows her to compartmentalise; it’s an escape, a genuine joy, as well as a job.
She doesn’t write about herself – she says the closest she’s come to that is with the Witch from Room On The Broom because she’s similarly scatty and always losing things (on the day we chat over Zoom Malcolm keeps walking into her study bringing her things she’s lost and he’s just found), but if you look hard enough she is there.
She’s there in the lost, storytelling fish Tiddler, in the heartbreaking story of Stick Man who can’t find his way home, and there is more loss in The Paper Dolls, about a girl who has adventures with her paper dolls until a nasty boy tears them up. ‘When I write about loss, I think I often do it subconsciously,’ says Julia. ‘The Paper Dolls is about bereavement, and it’s sort of a bleak view, but there’s this idea about handing things over to the next generation. There’s this idea of a new beginning, but things are different. Picture books can often be frivolous but they can also be quite deep, that’s what I love about them.
‘I don’t really like the ones that are really earnest; they can be pretty turgid. But some are seriously tear-jerking. Little kids do have to deal with the deaths of loved ones and I think the books that handle that best aren’t saying, “It’s so sad, Grandpa died” but instead show an adventure with Grandpa and then the grandfather saying, “You’ll have to go back without me.” Picture books can be an amazing opportunity for parents and children to talk about really difficult subjects.’ Julia’s
passion for storytelling is clear and she’s explored her subject for the latest BBC Maestro course. Subscribers get the chance to learn cookery tips from Marco Pierre White, songwriting from Gary Barlow and how to write TV scripts from Line Of Duty’s Jed Mercurio. Now they could learn about children’s stories from the best in the business.
Julia is enthused talking about the 27-lesson course she has created. ‘I’ll be giving [the people who take the course] lots of tips and setting exercises.
‘I think a lot of people have misunderstandings about how to get published. They think they should write a story and then get a neighbour who once won a prize for art at school to do the illustrations. But I’ll be explaining how you never send things in with illustrations.
‘I’ll be talking about how rhyme for a book needs to be more like a song – with a verse and a chorus. Not every line has to rhyme, unless you’re really, really good at it.’ Julia also talks about her writing process. ‘A lot of the writing starts in my head. I need not only the germ of an idea, but the whole. And that can be a slow process, like a seed germinating.
‘I talk about endings in the course – my editor has told me about how so many books she receives just fall flat at the end. You wouldn’t have a joke without a punchline and only when I have the ending do I sit down to write the story.
‘First, I’ll grab my notebook and brainstorm. I’ll write the story very roughly, put in a few rhymes and choice phrases. With Room On The Broom I had written down the phrase, “And whoosh they were gone” and that went on to form my chorus. I’ll pick out the best bits and throw the rest away.
‘And that’s when the blood, sweat and tears start as I try to hone down my verse and chorus and get the story just right. I like a structured story and a good ending line or a twist.’
She doesn’t read aloud as she writes. The first person to recite the first draft is Malcolm. She’s very keen to ensure each word is emphasised in the right way, and after that will often go back to her desk to fine tune.
Her office is full of the fruits of her labour, from versions of her books to two ‘Nibbie’ British Book Awards. The walls feature offcuts from Axel’s work and the tablecloth was designed for an exhibition of her work.
But it’s inside her head that the real work is going on. ‘They say there are only seven basic stories but I think the key is to be as original as possible. Children don’t want to be bored with the same thing, just as adults don’t want to be. I don’t think of myself as a rebel but there is a subversive side to my nature which comes out in my books. I like to surprise people.’ And she always does.
–by Nicole Lampert Julia Donaldson’s creative writing course, Writing Children’s Picture Books, is coming soon to bbcmaestro.com. Her book, The Woolly Bear Caterpillar, illustrated by Yuval Zommer (€18, Macmillan Children’s Books) is out on Thursday.