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Writing The Runaway Granny.

The Runaway Granny is the first in my new collection of fun stories for children: When Things Go Wonky.

Originally it wasn’t actually a children’s story although it was definitely family friendly.

It was first published in an Irish Family Magazine called Ireland’s Own.

The editor of the magazine at the time retitled it Granny Oh, which to be honest I didn’t much like.

Back then I was just so grateful to get it published that I was afraid to disagree, so it was published under that title.

I suppose it’s not so bad…

Later, I began writing for a radio show called Fiction Fifteen. This was a children’s story show broadcast each week on Ireland’s national radio station, RTE One.

I always liked the Runaway Granny story and thought it might work well if adapted for radio. The producer agreed, so I rewrote the piece.

This time the title was changed to The Jellyfish Catcher. In the story, a granny runs away, joins a band and eventually gets a job as a jellyfish catcher. 

On an ironic note – a few years later I was stung by the appropriately named, Purple Stinger jellyfish when I was swimming off the coast of Malta. I sure wished there’d been a Jellyfish catcher that day!

The story proved very popular, both with children and adults. I think it was due to the themes explored: love, control, freedom, denial and old age amongst others.

Writing themes are really important – it is how the reader connects to the story. Many writers explore the same themes over and over again.

You’ll have to tell me if I’m guilty of this but I do know that one of the themes I return to frequently is freedom and it was freedom, or lack of it, that caused the primary conflict in The Runaway Granny.

The family in the story is basically a happy one.

However, and there is always a however in family stories – the efforts by one family member to protect another causes trouble. 

Natasha’s mother wants to protect her granny by making her behave like a demure, elderly lady.

But, granny isn’t ready to be old. She doesn’t want to sit knitting by the fire.

Her daughter got her a new flat in sheltered accommodation but granny hates it and as far as she is concerned it’s a prison.

Sometimes it is hard to get love just right and as with many family fights, outsiders can often see both sides but the people involved can only see what they think is ‘best for the other person.’

In trying to place restrictions on her mother, the daughter is acting out of love and care, but she fails to understand that her love and care is turning into control.

Granny is an adult. She doesn’t feel like an old woman inside and naturally enough she rebels against these ‘loving’ restrictions.

The two women have a catastrophic fight. Words are exchanged that are too harsh to be forgiven, or forgotten, at least not for a while.

When writing for children I sometimes draw from my own experiences.

For The Runaway Granny, I remembered a discussion I had with my own mother when we were on a train coming back from Dublin – a long time ago.

The train stopped near some rows of tiny houses that were purposely built as sheltered accommodation for the elderly.

I told my mother how I would hate to be stuck in one of those little houses, but I was shocked when she said she wouldn’t mind, that she never wanted to be a burden and that I should ‘stick her in a home’ when she got old.

At the time my mother was far from old and I felt that she would change her opinion when she got old.

For me it was different. The reason I was so adamant against it was that I had once worked in a nursing home for the elderly and absolutely hated it.

One of my own worst fears would be to be locked up in such a place – to be stuck there with my freedom curtailed. It still is.

In a way, a very sad way, my mother got her wish. She never did become a burden because she didn’t live long enough to be ‘old,’ at least not in the conventional sense.

She was only seventy-two years of age and enjoying great health, still working part-time to finance her travels, still swimming, still having fun with ‘the girls,’ still singing barbershop – when she got cancer.

She only survived a few months, which was shocking as well as heartbreaking. She always said she’d love to live until she was eighty and any day she got after that would be a bonus.

In one of those strange irrational thoughts you have when someone you loved dies I felt cheated on her behalf.

Forgive me the cliché but time did do some healing and now, when I look back I can see that by avoiding the ill-health and infirmity of old age, my mother escaped being ‘a burden.’ Maybe she wasn’t cheated after all.

She never got ‘stuck in a home’ and she enjoyed every second of her freedom while she could, almost to the end of her life.  

Freedom is something that when we are lucky enough to have it we tend to take it for granted – we’re only human and it’s what we do. Yet not everybody is free.

Maybe we could appreciate our freedom a little bit more. We sometimes don’t know we had it until it’s gone.

A COLLECTION OF FUN STORIES FOR CHILDREN

When Things Go Wonky 

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