I first read What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge when I was eight years old. It was one of my all time favourite books. I reread it at least 10 times during my childhood – and when my daughter Emma was eight I read it to her too. She could obviously read it for herself by that age, but it was fun to share it. She loved it too.
It’s a wonderful book, very easy to read, even though it was published in the 19th century. It’s a very lively funny story about six children, looked after by their kindly doctor father and an exasperated maiden aunt.
Katy is the oldest, a headstrong tomboy forever getting into scrapes. But then halfway through the book she has a terrible accident (all her own fault) and becomes an invalid, unable to walk. She’s very angry and wretched at first, but her Cousin Helen helps her come to terms with things and to learn to be good and patient and kind, a little mother to her younger siblings. And at the end – surprise, surprise - Katy learns to walk again.
Emma and I enjoyed discussions about the six Carr children and Katy’s friend Cecy; we felt sorry for poor Elsie the odd one out; we laughed at Dorry’s diary; we were shocked by Katy’s tragic accident – and we both decided the St Nicholas and St Valentine chapter was our absolute favourite. We disagreed about Cousin Helen. Emma thought her a wonderfully romantic glamorous invalid. I found Helen rather too preachy and saintly, especially when she started talking about “God’s School of Pain.” I remember even as a child thinking it was horribly unfair that you were supposed to change your whole personality and become positively angelic if you became an invalid.
When I got older, writing my own children’s books, I thought of all those other children’s classics featuring a child in a wheelchair. Clara in Heidi breathes in the fresh air of the mountains and learns to walk again. Colin in The Secret Garden breathes in his fair share of fresh air too when Mary and Dickon wheel him to the special garden and soon he’s up and out of his wheelchair as well.
I thought of all the real children in wheelchairs reading these books, wondering why religion and fresh air weren’t working miracles for them too. I decided that one day I might try to write a modern version of What Katy Did. I’d invent my own family of six children, with a contemporary naughty tomboy Katy as the oldest sister. I wanted the children to have all kinds of fun, though Katy is often in trouble with her stepmother (children are rarely brought up by maiden aunts nowadays). My Katy would have a similar terrible accident, just like the Katy in the original book. But then my story would be very different. I wanted to show what life is really like for children with serious spinal injuries. I didn’t want any sudden unlikely miracle cures for my Katy. She’d have to learn to lead a very different life now. She wouldn’t need to be saintly – she’d need to be tough if she was going to cope.
So now I’ve written my book, simply called Katy. But I didn’t want it to be a very sad book with an unhappy ending. There are still lots of light-hearted moments and I hope you’ll find the last chapter positive and uplifting. I try hard with all my books, but I think I’ve tried hardest of all with Katy. The original wonderful What Katy Did was a marvelous inspiration.
Win a signed copy of Katy
We have five copies of Jacqueline Wilson’s new book Katy to give away to five lucky readers. And they are signed by Jacqueline Wilson herself. Please read the Ts and Cs first and then email us childrens.books@theguardian.com by Monday 17 August with “Jacqueline Wilson’s Katy” as your title telling us why you should win. Entrants should be aged between five and 18, or entering on behalf of a child. Please include your name, age, and postal address; if you are under 16 you must also include the name, contact telephone number and email address of your parent or guardian. Winners will be selected by way of a random draw from all entries received before the closing date. Good luck!