I’ve been reading a lot of Peppa Pig lately. Daughter’s obsessed with it. Thing is, so am I. Firstly it’s really funny. No really, it is. Second the merchandise is really covetable. Take this car for instance. Where can I buy it in grown up size? Third, it keeps her quiet and occupied so I can get on with other non-Peppa Pig things like writing. Which will explain why earlier today I spent an obscene amount of money on more Peppa Pig stuff at Tesco who just happen to have a half price sale on it all.
Anyway, if Peppa Pig can interest my kid in reading that can only be a good thing right? And since this is the only thing she’s ever shown more than a momentary interest in before moving on to something else, surely I am doing right in reinforcing the focus of her attention by buying every branded Peppa Pig thing in sight?
And me, a marketeer by day. I should know better than to fall for all this. But I can’t help it. It’s got me thinking though, about children’s books and writing for children. Before I came up with the idea for my novel, I wrote out a plan for a children’s story. Something along the lines of Greenwitch by Susan Cooper and more for the likes of eleven year olds. Of course the real money is in the under 5’s market. If I want my own branded merchandise and one of those Peppa Pig cars in peach, at some point I’m going to have to have a go.
Until then I’ll keep plodding on with my story for grown ups and reading Peppa Pig at bedtimes.