Most writers, for fear of disappointment or distortion, fear their work going on stage. But it’s worth the risk, says Michael Morpurgo

Any writer could take the view that for fear of disappointment, distortion or disaster, your novel or story, carefully researched and patiently crafted, should never be adapted for the stage. It is true that there have indeed been enough mediocre stage adaptations to give a writer cause to reflect long and hard before taking the risk of handing over dramatic rights to a stage producer.

I’m inclined, however, to take a more positive view. It seems to me as a writer of children’s books, that in recent years the quality of theatrical adaptations for a family audience has grown from strength to strength, that the very best producers are now seeking inspiration from the most challenging of children’s books, not simply the most popular. The National Theatre’s recent production of Jamila Gavin’s Coram Boy is a perfect example of this.

For me, though, there is another very good reason in principle for welcoming a stage adaptation. Here is a wonderful opportunity to introduce children who may not yet be avid readers of books, who find the written text difficult and off-putting, to discover the thrill of a story played out in front of their eyes. I’m convinced that to expose children to the power of great theatre (and great stories) can be a life-changing experience, so the risk is worth taking.

On a more personal level I am intrigued by the collaborative process of adaptation and by the prospect of seeing my story brought to life. All right, I’m also flattered — it may help to sell more books, and the option fee is always useful. But I suppose I am so positive about stage adaptations of my books because I have been extraordinarily lucky. You are entrusting your story, handing over your baby to a theatre company, who then have the rights to make whatever they like of it. So you do the research, go to see something the producer has put on before. Then if all looks promising you sign your baby away, and hope.

After I had a good experience with the Polka Theatre in their sensitive adaptation of Kensuke’s Kingdom,the Alibi Theatre in Exeter put on their version of Why the Whales Came. I attended rehearsals, wondering at their inventiveness. I was nervous, though, because I thought some of their ideas just wouldn’t work out. For instance, there was to be a cello player on stage throughout. Surely that would distract rather than enhance? I was wrong. In fact, it was this device that gave cohesion and tension to the piece. The play toured to packed houses.

Later, I was approached by Simon Reade, the artistic director of the Bristol Old Vic, who wanted to create a one-man show of my novel Private Peaceful, the story of the execution of a soldier in the First World War. It would, he warned me, necessitate a major alteration to the denouement of my story — the execution not of Charlie, as in the book, but of his brother Tommo. I was convinced that Simon had the integrity of the story at heart, and had the expertise to pull if off. And he did, magnificently.

And I was as involved as I wanted to be all the way through, from script development to auditions, to rehearsals. Private Peaceful ran for two years around the country, including a performance at our village church in Devon, where part of the story is set, two runs in London, and even a spell off Broadway. More recently Simon has a adapted a short story of mine,

The Mozart Question. Here again he kept the heart of the story, capturing perfectly its tone and its pace.

And now the Bristol Old Vic is adapting one of my own adaptations, Aesop’s Fables. I love retelling the great stories, King Arthur, Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Hansel and Gretel,trying to adapt each one for the modern reader without losing the essential power of the story. The joy for me of the Bristol Old Vic’s new production of Aesop is that it will take this whole process one step further. Hundreds of children will see the ancient fables played out in front of them.

The energy and inspiration the Bristol Old Vic brings to their productions is remarkable but certainly not unique. All over this country there are small touring players, puppeteering companies and storytellers doing extraordinary work in school halls and community centres, as well as theatres.

London now has, in the Unicorn Theatre, the UK’s first purpose-built children’s theatre. It is adapting a novella of mine, Billy the Kid,to run in June. It is the life story of a Chelsea Pensioner, a passionate football supporter. There will certainly be one child in the audience as wide-eyed as any there. He’s about 63, a storyteller whose parents were both actors and who longs to be one himself – just a stage-struck kid.

Aesop’s Fables, Old Vic, King Street, Bristol (www.bristol-old-vic.co.uk 0117-987 7877), Thur-Apr 21; Michael Morpurgo will be giving a talk on Aesop’s Fables at the theatre on Apr 19

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