Category Archives: Children’s Story book

Jack’s Present

This is a revised Christmas story written a few years ago.

Jack’s Present

Emily’s mum had helped her stir the special ingredients of oats and sparkling gold glitter and measured them into 15 envelopes.
On the front of each envelope were the instructions:

‘Sprinkle this reindeer food outside tonight.
The moonlight will make it sparkle bright.

Millie as a puppy

Millie as a puppy

As the reindeer fly and roam,
this will guide them to your home.’

Emily had signed each one ‘Love Emily’.
She proudly gave them to her friends at Day Care.
Jack put his away safely.

Jack and his brother, Mackenzie, watched Mum pack their case. Jack made sure that his envelope from Emily was in his bag. They were driving to their grandparents and Millie’s house for Christmas. Santa must know where to find them.

Christmas Eve, Jack and Mackenzie left out a bottle of beer and some biscuits for Santa. Then they sprinkled Jack’s reindeer food outside before hopping into bed to have a story.

Whilst the children slept, Millie, the puppy, thought the reindeer food was put out in the courtyard for her, so she ate it all up.

Luckily Santa still managed to find his way.

The next morning Jack and Mackenzie discovered their bulging stockings and ran to show their parents.

Everyone decided to take Millie for her walk before breakfast.

They had to wait while she searched for a special spot under a callistemon tree.

‘How come Millie’s poo is glittering?’ asked Jack.

‘Wow, you’re right,’ chuckled Grandpa, as he scooped it into a bag.

‘It’s her way of wishing everyone a happy Christmas!’

Mackenzie laughed. ‘Millie’s a clever dog!’

‘What a treat! But remember, my treasures,

all that glitters is not gold!’ said Grandpa.

Mackenzie and Jack

Mackenzie and Jack

Re-write: ‘Milly, Molly and Mary’

Having received my two manuscripts back from the editor, I quickly did some changes to this children’s story below. I hope you like the changes.

Millie, Molly and Mary Barbara Pyett © 2014

3/4

Millie, Molly and Mary, are three chooks who live at a dairy.

They cluck for some corn, as cows moo with a yawn.

Cats meow in the sun, as dogs bark for fun.

Millie is dainty, her comb is quite painty,

Molly is plump and feels like a frump,

Mary’s feathers are sleek, but she’s rather meek.

5/6

One night, they roost, sound asleep on the Ute,

expecting to be there ‘till morning.

That night Farmer Brown drives into the town.

To his great surprise, his mates soon advise

And point to the chooks on his fender.

No time for a bender, a change of agenda.

Instead, he drives home to Brenda.

7/8

When the cock gives a crow, they belatedly know,

Their night ride can’t hide,

their feathers askew, it had to accrue

to censure their own misadventure.

They hop off the Ute; Farmer Brown gives a hoot,

and concedes the chooks need a feed,

before milking his cows that are waiting by now.

9/10

Next night as they sleep, a slinky fox creeps.

The dog makes a growl; the cat gives a yowl.

Farmer Brown wakes from sleep, leaves his bed with a leap.

Scares the fox from the barn that runs far from the farm.

11/12

Another night, they huddle in fright.

Thunder and light make them want to take flight.

Drumming hail sees them pale as they shake on the bale.

Eggs scarce for a while, warrants no smile.

13/14

The cows moo outside with nowhere to hide.

Cats yowl in the house and hide with the mouse.

Dogs growl in the shed, wait to be fed.

15/16

Peace reins on the farm, hens cluck in the barn,

Lay eggs, one, two and three for farmer Brown’s tea.

They cluck for some corn, as cows moo with a yawn.

Cats meow in the sun as dogs bark for fun.

No longer wary, they visit the dairy.

No longer flappy, they are so happy.

Farmer Brown appears with a smile ear to ear,

his grin doesn’t vary when he spies Millie, Molly and Mary.

 

Whether there will more more changes, who knows? I am now absorbed in ‘Enduring Threads’ and loving having the opportunity of seeing it with fresh eyes. Thanks to Sophia Barnes for her patience and expertise, it was well worth while having a professional editor go through and see the story with a detached perspective.

 

 

 

Another picture book to be:

Millie, Molly and Mary Barbara Pyett © 2014

( At present, I’ve not kept the rhythm ordered. This text is before a visit to an editor, shall see how it evolves after the visit.)

3/4

Millie, Molly and Mary, are three chooks who live at a dairy.

They cluck for some corn, as cows moo with a yawn.

Cats meow in the sun, as dogs bark for fun.

 

5/6

One night, they roost, sound asleep on the Ute,

expecting to be there ‘till morning.

That night Farmer Brown drives into the town.

To his great surprise, his mates soon advise

And point to the chooks on his fender.

No time for a bender, a change of agenda.

Amender, he drives home to Brenda.

 

7/8

When the cock gives a crow, they belatedly know,

Their night ride can’t hide,

their feathers askew, it had to accrue

to dementia, or their own misadventure.

 

They hop off the Ute; Farmer Brown gives a hoot,

and concedes the chooks need a feed,

before milking his cows that are waiting by now.

 

9/10

Next night as they sleep, a slinky fox creeps.

The dog makes a growl; the cat gives a yowl.

Farmer Brown wakes from sleep leaves his bed with a leap.

Scares the fox from the barn that runs far from the farm.

 

11/12

Again next night, they huddle in fright.

Thunder and light make them want to take flight.

Drumming hail sees them pale as they shake on the bale.

Eggs scarce for a while, warrants no smile.

 

13/14

The cows moo outside with no- where to hide.

Cats yowl in the house and hide with the mouse.

Dogs growl in the shed, wait to be fed.

 

15/16

Peace reins on the farm, hens cluck in the barn,

Lay eggs, one, two and three for farmer Brown’s tea.

They cluck for some corn, as cows moo with a yawn.

Cats meow in the sun as dogs bark for fun.

 

No longer wary, they visit the dairy.

They’re no longer flappy, now they are happy.

Farmer Brown may appear with a smile ear to ear,

his grin doesn’t vary when he sees Millie, Molly and Mary.

 

‘Millie, Molly and Mary’ is a children’s farmyard story picture book for the young at heart. The play with language will both increase a child’s vocabulary as well as entertain the adult reading the story.

Illustration scares me:

This timely prompt has given me a nudge. Illustrating some of my children’s stories has been something I keep putting on the back burner. I am embarrassed to say that my attempts are so pathetic; I lose confidence that I can do it. In reality it is just a matter of practicing daily. It’s a bit like my love/hate affair with the computer.

Here is one example of a book I attempted to illustrate some time ago. It is done with collage, crayon and ink. I do not need your critique, as I know it is crap. This is just to show you why I hesitate to even begin again:

Scan

 

Scan

 

Scan

 

Scan

 

Scan

 

Scan

 

Scan

Scan

 

I know I can do better!

Is there something you’ve wanted to do but never got around to starting (an activity, a hobby, or anything else, really)? Tell us about what’s keeping you from doing it?

(Thanks, Rocky, for inspiring today’s prompt!) Ben Huberman

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/back-of-the-queue/

Fenella the duck: another picture book to be

Fenella the Duck   Barbara Pyett © 2013

Singing along to their favourite song, the car suddenly stops.                                                      ‘Oh no!’ Dad says. ‘We’ve run over a duck!’                                                                                       He got out and moved the mother duck to the side of the road.

A little duckling stood all alone.                                                                                                      ‘Can we take it home?’ chorused the children.

‘Remember we live in an apartment upstairs; we cannot possibly look after a duckling,’ Mum replies.                                                                                                                                               ‘We can’t leave it here, it will get run over and die!’

‘Well,’ said Dad, ‘I guess the best thing we can do is to take it to a park where there is a pond with other ducks. Maybe they will adopt this poor little orphan.’                                                  ‘We can come back another day to see how it is getting along.’

The children decide to call the duckling Fenella. They really don’t want to leave her, but it is a beautiful park and there are lots of other ducks.

When the family comes back to visit Fenella, Will says,                                                                  ‘Oh how sad, she is all alone!’

‘I don’t think the other ducks want anything to do with her,’ says Hazel.                                     Finn remembered to bring some duck food.

They have tears in their eyes when they have to leave.

Fenella hides amongst the kangaroo grass and the Acacias, below a large sculpture. She has to learn to find food for herself.

When Fenella waddles up to the café in the park she is shooed away, because the café staff don’t want her messing on the patio. At weekends, when Joan is on duty, she sends children down to the lake with breadcrumbs. Watching the other ducks Fenella soon learns to scavenge for food herself.

Sometimes at night Fenella is very scared. There are foxes that roam the park. She swims out to the island in the lake. The other ducks are less scary than the foxes! She hides, hoping that the other ducks will not peck her.

Fenella spends her days scratching in the mud finding her food. She is unaware that she is getting bigger. She loves it when children visit the park and throw breadcrumbs. It reminds her of the family that brought her here.

Fenella is no longer shy and her sleek coat of white feathers is mirrored in the lake as she swims. ‘Wow, she looks big’, cries Will. (pictured: Hazel and Finn pointing showing their parents, when they arrive back in spring).

‘Look at Fenella swimming with that handsome drake.’                                                             ‘She’s followed by a clutch of little ducklings,’ says Dad.                                                             ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ says Mum                                                                                                  ‘Let’s count them together, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.’

‘’I think the drake looks like Frederick, ‘ says William.                                                                      ‘I’m going to name the ducklings then too,’ says Hazel.

‘We can name three each, because 3×3=9.’

‘OK, my turn, says Hazel, ‘what about: Eloise, Aurelia and Flynn?                                             ‘Good,’ says Will, ‘my three can be: Sonny, Rory and Jack.’

‘Your turn Finn,’ they shout together.                                                                                                ‘I’ll call them: Tove, Ty and Mackie.’

They all watch as the ducks swim around in circles with the ducklings paddling hard to keep up. It’s good to know that Fenella won’t be lonely anymore, now that she has such a large family!’ says Jack.

‘That’s great,’ says Dad as he packs up the picnic, ‘let’s go for a walk and look at the other sculptures, before we say goodbye and go home.’

The end

This story was written after we’d been caretakers at McClelland Gallery in Langwarrin Victoria, Australia.  A duckling was brought to the gallery’s lake, which inspired this story. After completion, I thought it was a bit like ‘The Ugly Duckling’, but hopefully it is different enough to stand on its own.

A work in progress:

Staying with Grandma and Grandpa ( to be a picture book with poetry)

Grandma has eyes with drooping lids,

but she can see any naughty kids.

Her hair is fading with the sun,

all tied up in a plaited bun.

She likes to garden as we play,

kneeling beside a fuchsia spray.

The garden is our great delight,

where blue tongue lizards hide in fright.

Grandpa’s chin is a prickly one,

we walk each day so he’s not glum.

His glasses fog when rain pours down,

he doesn’t mind a shiny crown.

When we stay at our grandparent’s place,

Grandpa takes us to a playground space.

We walk and talk till Millie the dog,

barks for her tea, then home we jog.

Playing ‘Hats’ is a game we like,

if Grandma loses she hates her plight.

Grandpa teaches us many odd words

learning new things we’re undeterred.

We like hitting the tennis ball,

though Millie tries to stop it fall.

She chases it and does not tire,

we just give up and we retire.

Hide and seek is another game,

creepings up is a bit more tame.

Finding Grandma beneath the stair,

we always know she hides in there.

Grandma cooks our favourite food,

off to bed in such a good mood.

Showered, cleaned and stories read,

ready for sleep, tucked up in bed.

Possums fighting and crickets shriek,

Millie barks ‘till she falls asleep.

Imagine oceans, oh so breezy,

drifting off is easy peasy.

Next morning we discuss our dreams,

nightmares sometimes have made us scream.

In the morning they’re not so bad,

our Grandparents’ dreams are never sad.

‘Remember to control your dreams,

face your demon, he’ll stop midstream.

Your dreams become a place for friends

you’re in charge and your thoughts transcend.’

Grandma and Grandpa both agree,

their advice is for you and me.

Remember good things as you play,

and give thanks for them every day.