Once Upon a Time We Told Our Children Stories
Michael Morpurgo
The Times March 3, 2005
FOR THE past 18 months in my role as Children’s Laureate I have been travelling the country telling stories to young readers and young writers, telling how this particular weaver of tales writes his stories. Like some superannuated strolling player, I have set up and performed wherever anyone would let me: in tiny village halls, grand concert halls, in tents and bookshops and school halls and, once, in an old people’s home; from audiences of 14 children in the small island school on Jura in the Hebrides, to 2,500 people in the Albert Hall. I have talked to families — grandparents, parents and children together. In Broughton-in-Furness and Ulverston in the Lake District, I spoke to children from 24 village schools. All came wide-eyed with excitement and expectancy. I strutted my story stuff as best I could, read to them, and answered their questions: “Were you good at writing when you were young?” “No. But I was unbelievably good at rugby,” I told them, and sent them and their teachers away, buzzing, I hope, about books, enthused to read more and feeling that they, too, have a story to tell and a voice with which to tell it.Today, World Book Day, hundreds of my fellow writers, and storytellers, illustrators, librarians, teachers and booksellers, are doing just what I’ve been doing. Indeed, they do it all the year round: this is not a one-day wonder. This kind of sustained effort to bring children to books and books to children is much needed and is, in my view, the most effective way of persuading children to become readers and writers. . . .