#38 šŸ¤­ The STRANGEST story that youā€™ve definitely heard before šŸŽŗ

The average story

Iā€™ve clocked up nearly 100,000 minutes reading stories to my children. Nearly a decade of bedtime stories. Well enough reading hours to be able to predict, within the first page or so, the style and theme of almost any kidsā€™ book.

I regret to inform you that a great many books for kids are just the same few stories, repeated. But generally with brilliant pictures. Importantly: Children donā€™t mind. But as a person whoā€™s tried (failed) to get a childrenā€™s book published, I can only wonder at the conversations that go on at the publishers each year. Perhaps something like this:

ā€œWeā€™ve got a pitch here to rewrite Goldilocks in a modern context,ā€ says the editorial assistant.

ā€œDidnā€™t we do steampunk Goldilocks last year?ā€ says the editor.

ā€œYes, but this would be a different illustrator,ā€ says the assistant. ā€œThis one cuts together photos of vegetables with eyes as the characters. Itā€™s plant-based; itā€™s practically de rigueur.ā€

ā€œBrilliant!ā€ says the editor. ā€œGoldilocks always sells well. People sure love those bears.ā€

If I was to average out the plot lines of all the kidsā€™ stories Iā€™ve read, distilling them down to a single, representative narrative, the resulting ā€œever storyā€ plot summary would go something like this:

A bear walked into a wood, encountered something unexpected, then walked out again.

Anthropomorphic tales of bears are practically 60% of all kidsā€™ stories (by my back-of-the-envelope estimate). It must come as a shock for children to learn about or encounter real bears in the wild. They are nothing like the tales.

Get over here, Goldilocks