Story prompt
Away from the Keyboard
The relational benefits of writers
Before I begin, I would like to address my choice of art. No, I haven’t completely lost the plot; it isn’t just a stethoscope placed over a bunch of illustrated children’s books — well, yes; I guess it is, but there is a reason for my graphic obscurity! I’ll get to that in a moment.
You may wonder why I possess a stethoscope, and whilst this is not pertinent to my article, I thought I would share with you the reason for our stethoscope ownership.
DSM, my better half, is not a doctor! He is, however, an addict — to sugar! He honestly has the biggest sweet tooth I have ever encountered. His consumption of lollies is a constant source of amazement and wonder, (insert worry), to his family.
One pre-Christmas, several years ago, DSM purchased a kilo bag of cheap (rubbish) sweets from the dollar shop. He ate the lot over a very short period, (hours), following which, he began to get heart palpitations. After much arguing, he allowed himself to be transported to hospital. The heart palpitations lasted for several days, even though tests proved his heart to be in stellar condition. Having recovered and been discharged from the hospital, DSM decided to purchase a stethoscope so he could listen to his own heart, should he ever deem it necessary. Do you see what I must put up with?
I now monitor his pre-Christmas cheap shop escapades very carefully!
Okay, back to the graphic. It is pertinent to the prompt. I promise!
Earlier in my writing escapades, I decided to try my hand at creating children’s picture books. I wrote and illustrated four rhyming stories, which resulted in a two-fold positive experience; I was able to combine my love of digital art with my writing, but in time, I realised picture books were very labor intensive. I was spending too much time drawing and not enough time writing, which is my greatest pleasure.
The kids’ books were popular with extended family and their offspring, but after a while, my extra copies lay around in cupboards almost forgotten, until one day, I visited a new, local doctor. Haha, you see, here is the stethoscope connection!
I noticed the doc had a picture of her two children on her desk, which resulted in a quick, pleasant conversation about motherhood and the perils of raising kids.
Over the next few months, I felt connected enough with the physician to mention that I was a writer. Amazingly, she had heard of me through my fiction writing on Amazon! Just before Christmas, I decided to take a copy of each picture book for her to give her children. She seemed thrilled to receive them!
The next time I visited her surgery, she thought to tell me that her children loved the books and had learned them off by heart, requesting them every night at bedtime. She said the kids were driving her husband nuts because he wasn’t allowed to read anything else.
Of course, I was thrilled with her feedback but told myself that the doc had probably exaggerated the situation to make me feel good. (Yep, there’s that old, “I am an imposter, and soon I will be found out,” insecurity).
Sometime later, with a few more visits to the doc, and no new mentions of the books, I had almost forgotten that I had given them to her.
On my last consultation with my doctor, before she transferred to another practice in another town, she said, “Oh, I almost forgot, Raine. I brought this to show you!”
The doctor produced her mobile phone and displayed a video she had taken a few nights previously.
In the movie, two little kids were sitting on a bed with their father who was reading one of my stories. Every time a page was turned, the children excitedly recited the rhymes that went with the illustrations; their father appeared to be completely fed-up with the repeated subject matter. The doctor told me that her children refused to read anything else. She also told me her husband was threatening to disengage from the whole night-time reading ritual!
The video evidence filled my writer’s heart with pure joy! What better takeaway could any author get than to know their work is being read and enjoyed by the people for whom it was created.
I carry that memory with me, and I use it to remind myself that while writing is not always a fulfilling experience, at some time, somewhere if we doggedly persevere, we will occasionally receive a reward that makes it all worthwhile!
Of course, there have been other rewarding writing outcomes, like the time I was asked to be a guest speaker at the local Masonic Lodge.
It was flattering to present my experience regarding the uncertain world of the independent author, and it surprised me, at Q and A time, how many people were intensely interested in writing, and the process of getting a book self-published. I met some wonderful people and created some fulfilling writing relationships.
It was also fascinating to be a witness to several of the Lodge’s ceremonial traditions. It was a huge learning experience and one that I feel privileged to have been part of.
Of all the writing outcomes I have been privy to, the most significant occurred last year.
I need to share a small story that occurred over sixty years ago, (yes, I really am that old) so that you can get a sense of why this writing outcome was so important to me.
When I was about nine years old, my sister was four and a half. We shared a bedroom at the front of the house; a large, quite bare room, with our beds placed on opposite walls.
Now and again, I would play a silly game to amuse Little Sis, which consisted of me shucking down under the covers and announcing something like, “This is Radio Sunshine; your announcer is Raine, and I’m here to sing and tell you stories!”
Little Sis loved the game and listened intently to my ‘broadcasts’. I entertained with little girl songs, (‘I’m a Pink Toothbrush’, was a favourite), along with on-the-spot weather forecasts, and made-up stories. Little Sis would often interrupt asking for this or that, and couldn’t understand why I insisted that she waited until a segment ended before talking, and then only if she ‘rang up’ to make a request!
The years went by and we drifted away from each other, partly because we lived in different countries.
Little Sis finally emigrated to Australia in the nineteen nineties, and we were able to re-establish a closer relationship, until she took to the road, moving all over the country for business. Happily, she returned to my part of the world just three years ago and settled within fifteen minutes of my home.
Not so happily, last year, right at the beginning of Covid restrictions, Little Sis was struck down by cancer!
She endured months of chemotherapy, followed by weeks of radiation treatment. Because of Covid restrictions, and her lowered resistance to illness, I was unable to visit her both in hospital and at her home.
She was terribly ill, and I was terribly upset about her isolation and her illness. There was only so much we could discuss on the phone, and Little Sis was not up for long conversations.
Then, one day, I had a bit of a brainwave!
I picked up my phone and called her. She answered, and I declared without preamble, “This is Radio Sunshine; your announcer is Raine, and I’m here to tell you some stories!”
There was a small gasp of delight from Little Sis, who immediately asked if I had the weather report.
Impatiently, I explained that weather reports came at the end of the bulletin.
“Oh sorry,” she apologised. “I’ll just sit quietly and listen — like I had to do when I was a little girl!”
I could hardly believe she remembered. Of course, I choked up for a few seconds but soon recovered to start reading to her from one of my short story novels.
Over the next few months, I read many of my books to Little Sis over the phone, until I was hoarse. Every time, I would announce that it was Radio Sunshine on the air, and she would giggle with delight before settling back on her pillows to listen quietly.
There were times when Little Sis made emergency visits to the hospital because of complications. Imagine my joy when she told me a nurse or another patient was also listening to our stories.
I can honestly say that writing has never meant more to me than at the time when Radio Sunshine made a comeback, more than sixty years following its demise!
Just yesterday, Little Sis, who is thankfully now in remission, asked me if Radio Sunshine would be available on slow, rainy days when nothing much was happening. I told her that she would have to pick up the phone to make a request when she had time on her hands.
After all, it’s high time she got the hang of how these things work!
