Daydreaming of Applause

The applause was deafening, the listeners of her story were enthralled, how a lady who grew up on a dairy farm in rural Queensland had become a best-selling children’s storybook author.

Her hands were shaking, it had been a long day, she had been asked to be a guest speaker at the launch of the Seniors Stories Magazine. Why they had asked her, she was not sure, they seemed to think she was someone very special, someone who had written a story to be included in the Magazine, and from that small beginning, went on to become an author of a children’s storybook!!!!

She was a daydreamer, thinking of pleasant thoughts in her head to help her escape from reality. It seemed easier to daydream what life could be like rather than think of life with the COVID virus. The papers were full of stories of people suffering unimaginable deaths, and she and her husband did not want to be one of the statistics that were shown daily in the newspapers. Her husband had many health problems, having Parkinson Disease and nearly blind. She was his full-time carer, so her priority was always safety for herself and her husband.

So they had stayed at home, never leaving their little nest they had built for themselves, consoling themselves they would be safe there, and did not venture out. Groceries arrived at the door; the on-line shopping sites were their favorite pastime.

One day, an email appeared in her mailbox, “write the story of your life, and submit it, you never know, it may be good enough to be included in the Seniors Magazine”. She could do this; she knew her life had been fairly uneventful, as lives go, but it had its good, bad and sometimes sad times, and she though it would make an interesting story for others to read. Putting pen to paper, telling her story, seemed to exorcise the demons that sometimes plagued her when remembering the bad and sometimes sad times in her life.

To her surprise, her story was accepted to be included in the Magazine. This was a turning point in her life; giving her the motivation to continue with her passion for writing short stories that hopefully others would enjoy reading.

This one simple email had awakened her love of writing. A few years ago, she had spent many happy hours investigating her ancestors and writing their stories, how they had come from lowly beginnings to being the lords and ladies of the time, to then sliding back down scale to ordinary folk.

She found an avenue for her writing in submitting her stories to the Creatives Journal, a place for unknown authors, creating a platform to give them the opportunity to become published.

She has written many short stories, mostly about her childhood growing up in the old Queenslander, built by her Irish grandfather and grandmother. They had immigrated to Australia in the late eighteen eighties, dreaming of a better life in a far off land. She loved this house, its long hallway, big rooms with high ceilings, and a wood stove in the kitchen, a house full of the ghosts of the past generations. She found through her storytelling that she could tell tales about her childhood, and her parents and grandparents, weaving it around the old Queenslander.

Her daydreams were firmly entrenched in now becoming that world famous author, with applause resounding in her ears. Oh, how wonderful that would be, for this dairy farmer’s daughter.

Her writing gave her something to do in the long afternoons, when the house had been cleaned, and the gardening had been completed. Some of her stories were worthy of winning these competitions. What a treat it was to know someone out there was reading her thoughts, and laughing, or crying at the words she wrote.

Still it was not enough, what next could she do, and then it came to her, like a bolt of lightning, write and publish a children’s storybook. Exactly how this was to be accomplished, she had no idea, but once the idea was in her mind, it was going to happen.

Every day, she would take her little one-eyed puppy, Jazzy, for a walk around the streets of her neighborhood, the only avenue she had to leave the house without the fear of being infected by the COVID virus.

It was during these times, thoughts formed in her mind as to how her book, “Jazzy the One-Eyed Pup” would come to life. She knew this little puppy’s story could be something children would love to read about, the mischief her puppy did get into every day could turn into a best seller.

The story would embed the theme that even though she only has one eye, she can do everything a regular pup can do. It will begin with how little Jazzy, a Maltese puppy, born with only one eye, wove her way into the hearts of the Christie family and found her “forever” home. She has many adventures, starting out when Grandma Christie makes scones for her grandchildren.

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“As Grandma and Grandad opened the door to the pet shop they saw the little white pup. They looked in the basket and a little eye blinked. Grandad picked up the little ball of fluff, and Jazzy said “RUFF”, for Jazzy knew that Grandad was her “forever” home. He had one eye just like her. Jazzy the one-eyed pup joined their family and was taken to the warm and loving home.

They arrived home just in time for Connor, Georgia and Emma to arrive. What a surprise to have places to run, places to sniff and places to hide.

Jazzy explored her new home. She sniffed in the garden. She sniffed behind the shed. She sniffed in the cosy bed, and she sniffed Grandad’s big chair.

Grandma’s favourite thing to do was cook. She would cook cakes, biscuits, slices, sausage rolls, pikelets, roasts, milkshakes, pizzas and lasagnes. But Grandad’s favourite thing to eat was scones with jam and cream.!!

Emma saw Grandma and said “Lets Cook!!” The children took up their positions, whenever they cook together, they all help. Grandma took down the big silver bowl and they all helped to fill it full of flour, butter and milk. Emma rubbed the flour and butter together with her fingers. Georgia added the milk. And Connor kneaded the dough. Grandma turned on the oven.

The scone mixture was ready. Emma said “Look Grandad”. Just at that moment Jazzy jumped up, she sniffed too. The bowl tipped on Grandad’s sleeping head. There was scone dough on Grandad, there was scone dough on Jazzy, and there was scone dough on the floor.

Jazzy ran to the garden, she ran behind the shed, she ran to the cosy bed and she ran to Grandad. Jazzy the one-eyed pup was safe with her Grandad. That night when the children went home, Jazzy lay snuggled in Grandad’s lap. What an adventure it is to have a little ball of fluff that is Jazzy the one-eyed pup.”

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She would even include the recipe for scones, handed down from generation to generation, a timely reminder that the circle of family is forever present. And to her delight, her daughter agreed to paint the illustrations!!

The next part of the project was to paint the illustrations. Many happy hours were spent with her daughter working on the story that would entice a child to read her storybook. They started with their storyboard, going through the steps to work out how their illustrations would enhance the story and captivate the child’s imagination to keep reading the storybook.

It was not long till the illustrations were completed, and now, (according to her daydreaming scenarios) she was one step closer to now becoming a “world famous” children’s storybook author!! Everyone knows you can put anything into a daydream, where fantasy and reality do not meet, and it allowed her to feel pleasantly happy and excited her storybook was now becoming a reality.

While she was waiting for all this to happen, to keep her occupied, she started knitting little puppies to sell with the storybook. Little white puppies with funny little ears, some with misshapen noses, or a crooked tail, some with colourful skirts and dresses, all with one eye!!!!

She knew the children would not see these imperfections; they would only see a little puppy to cuddle. Just as children, when playing with a disabled child, do not see their disabilities; they just see someone to play with.

It was not long till the story and illustrations were sent to the publisher, and now it was just a waiting game. She was impatient to become that best-selling author, with the applause she knew she would deserve. At last her storybook was ready to be picked up from the publisher. It was just as she had imagined in her daydreams, the perfect little storybook for little hands to hold and read.

And so the day had come, the release of the Senior Magazine. A simple email asking for her life story had renewed her love of writing that had been buried for many years. There were many guest speakers, and she was the last to go to the podium. And now she was ready to begin this life of a recognized author.

The other speakers that day were very experienced; she wondered if she would rise to the standard they had set. She was concerned that the audience had sat through a long afternoon, listening to other speakers telling their stories, and now getting bored with their tales of accomplishments.

At last it was her turn, and as she walked timidly to the stage, the butterflies in her stomach were having a party making her feel a little sick.

She began slowly, thanking everyone for coming, and telling her story of how she became the person she is today. As she continued on with her speech, the words seemed to flow from her mouth; her confidence was growing, as if she had said this speech a thousand times before. She actually sounded like an accomplished speaker, deserving to be on that podium.

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“The publication of my children’s storybook has been a learning curve for me, every step a brand new experience, and although I did not consider myself a very brave person, I fearlessly soldiered on through every aspect of the process of publishing my storybook, something a girl who grew up on a dairy farm in rural Queensland would probably never have thought she could do. And yes, sometimes I worried as to why I had begun to even think I could write a children’s storybook, but my answer was always….why not!!!!

Everybody has a creative bone in their body. Our creative spirit does not dull once we become a little older or have some form of disabilities, and even though we are all given a gift or skill when we are born, sometimes it takes many years for us to find we have that skill.

To end my speech today, I would like to encourage you all here today to not to be afraid to try something different, although we are all seniors, our minds are still young. Take a chance and try something new, you may be surprised at the gift you have been given, that you did not even know you had”.

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She then thanked the audience for listening, and concluded her speech.

As she looked into the sea of faces, she held her breath, scared that they would all just rise from their chairs and leave, without a second glance at her. She was anxiously waiting to see what response she would evoke from this audience who looked a little tired and weary from listening to people talk about their achievements.

To her surprise, they did rise from their chairs, not to leave, but to give her a standing ovation; her speech had drawn enthusiastic applause from this tired and weary audience.

Many of the guests came up to her as she left the podium, congratulating her on her success, wanting to purchase the storybook and knitted puppies.

As she walked from the room, ready to celebrate with a well-earned glass of wine, she realised she was shaking, telling the story of how this day had evolved had taken its toll.

But, she knew, she would never forget the joy of hearing the applause which had all started with a fantasy imagined in her daydreams of becoming a renowned author.