British writer Julia Donaldson with her books. Photo / Getty Images
The queen of bedtime stories is adored by millions of children.
The bestselling author in Britain, by far, writes about sticks, paper dolls and snails hitching lifts on whales. Her words fill gaps at bedtime between brushing teeth and sleep, and given that she's sold 29.5 million books in the UK over the past decade, nobody soundtracks children's lives like her. JK Rowling? Just 9.7 million UK copies in this period. David Walliams? Closer, but only 20.7 million books flogged. The undisputed master is Julia Donaldson; a 73-year-old who outsells James Patterson, Lee Child and George RR Martin put together.
We meet in a cosy library in London to sip tea by a warming fire. Forget pop stars; when I told parents of young children that I was meeting Donaldson, they all gasped and recited her poetic tales, which come with drawings. We know them by heart. The Gruffalo, Stick Man, Room on the Broom. This Christmas, her story of a good worm falling on hard times, Superworm, gets the BBC animated treatment. She also has a gorgeous new book, The Christmas Pine.
In person, this woman with more influence on early memory than most family members is quiet, a little deaf — the most unassuming millionaire I have met. Home is Steyning in Sussex, where she is a hero after she and her husband, Malcolm, bought the local post office to save it. Yet young children often have no idea that books even have authors — is she recognised at all? "Often parents say, 'This is the lady who wrote your favourite book,' " she says, smiling. "They look confused. They think that you make individual books for them." Still, some do write to her — one boy said he didn't like The Gruffalo because it was far too repetitive. He gave her some suggestions.
Letters from parents are different — heartbreaking ones saying that they are to bury one of her books with their child. But this is the effect Donaldson has. She is read to children at that most extraordinary bit of parenting, when it's so new and fun and scary. I assume there must be immense pride in that.
"When children get older," she says, "and read books by themselves, those picture books are remembered as something parents and children shared. It can be a lovely time. Soothing, together, even if you've ticked them off or they've had a tantrum. At the end of the day, you make up and share. A children's author like me sneaks in to become part of that love and maybe get more credit than I deserve."
Now on to bookshelves goes The Christmas Pine, illustrated in lovely, subtle brush tones by our cover artist Victoria Sandoy. Last year, Donaldson was commissioned to write a poem to accompany the Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square and this is that. It is a story of a tree cut from the forest and taken to London, where it is enjoyed before being replaced the next year. Donaldson had the phrase "Grow and shine" in her head, to do with trees and, also, children, and that forms the basis of the story. "Life and death, rejuvenation," she explains. "It's a story about life."
In 2003, Donaldson's eldest of three sons, Hamish, took his own life, aged 25, after a long, difficult struggle with mental health. The family had help for years, but nothing worked and it is not, understandably, something she wants to discuss. Still, it creeps into conversation and her work. Running on the Cracks, her book for teenagers, was inspired by him — "I wanted to write a survival story" — while The Christmas Pine finishes with: "But think of me when I am gone; remember how I grew and shone. And may the children grow and shine, grow and shine like the Christmas pine."
I say it is a sad line and she thinks it is too, but, also, hopeful. She says it is wish-fulfilment and, actually, that kids find the line happy, while only parents find it sad. The ones with longer futures are the ones unaware that those futures will end.
"It's just life," she says with a sigh. "I often write about generations taking over. So in Tabby McTat, the kitten becomes the new busker. In The Paper Dolls, the girl makes her own dolls. It's a mixture of something new, but remembering what has gone. With The Christmas Pine another tree will come next year, but it won't be the same tree. It's like a new generation coming to usurp the past." She trails off. "You don't want to plan too much what the message is. Some stories are deeper, while others are just silly. Like Jack and the Flumflum Tree."
Donaldson fell in love with reading after being given The Book of a Thousand Poems as a child. She remembers one about a mouse that she acted out with her sister and performing is important to her. She and Malcolm regularly busked and still put on shows and sing. She is worried about the impact of our lockdowns on children. She fears that those who lacked confidence in the first place will never want to sing again.
There is something timeless about her work. Partly because she tends to write fables, and about animals, which do not date; partly because, unlike, say, her fellow children's great Oliver Jeffers, who has environmental themes in his books, Donaldson rarely fits contemporary concerns into her tales — not that she isn't asked to. "I'm always told by children to write this or that," she says. "'Why don't you write about a double amputee?' 'Someone with two dads?' But the best books are those written when authors write what they want to rather than what someone has told them they should be writing."
OK, but how about a sequel to Stick Man — in which a bold, lost, devoted twig tries to get home to the family tree? "I've often thought about if the family tree is cut down," she admits. "A little bird in the tree breaks its wing and the rest have migrated, so the stick family have to help it find its way."
The reason that Donaldson's books have sold so well is that she manages to entertain and empathise, with adults and children alike. That is no mean feat in a world of children's entertainment that most parents want to switch off and a hugely impressive level of cultural dominance given how many digital alternatives there are to be distracted by these days.
As an author, is she concerned how much time children spend on phones? "I have more concerns about the adults," she says. "You see a child trailing behind their adult who is on the phone and that's really bad. If we're so concerned about children we shouldn't use phones so much ourselves.
"I also have the same concerns most have about people's confidence being dented and horrible things being said online. I'm just glad I didn't grow up with that and that my children didn't either." All parents know about the complications of children growing up. Yet to hear it from Donaldson, the godmother of the toddler years, feels poignant. Before she leaves, she signs a copy of The Christmas Pine for my kids, which they now proudly display. She looks out for our children when the cocoon is at its strongest, but that cocoon will break. Who will look after them then?
The Christmas Pine by Julia Donaldson and Victoria Sandoy is out now in New Zealand (published by Scholastic).
Written by: Jonathan Dean
© The Times of London
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