Judy Dosh Saves the World: Judy Dosh, #1

By David Grant

The Judy Dosh series features the lives of a group of imaginary people and their struggles to get on with life and each other.

It will appeal to people in the 20 to 50-year-old age group who have lived through the many complications that modern life has thrown at us. Although it is Perth-based the book will appeal to anybody living a Western lifestyle in the 21st-century.

The characters include the married, the divorced, as well as those who are still single. There are a number of gay characters.

It will appeal to those who like weird and wacky. Judy has a pet rock which has magic powers and often interferes in her life whether she wants it to or not. (But she has been known to use his magic to her own benefit!)

But it will also appeal to those who like a good laugh. There is a light-hearted atmosphere through most of the book. The characters are mostly appealing and funny. But, as Father Ed, one of the characters in the book, said about a play he saw, "it makes you laugh, but it also makes you think".

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Grant
• Release date: Sep 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386564645

David Grant

David Grant. A biographical history of how I came to writing. I am a visual artist. Bodies on the Line is a visual art project which I started over 10 years ago. It was featured in FRINGE WORLD in 2015 and 2017. The project featured charcoal drawings of everyday people in Perth. While posing, models often discussed and talked about just about anything that came into their mind. This included religion, politics, philosophy and especially life and the people of Perth. These thoughts were written on the actual paintings by the model and also in notebooks. The notebooks were later made into printed copies. It soon became clear to me that life in Perth had its own flavour. Relationships seemed to be very problematic. Taking this source of material I decided to write a novel on Perth life. This is where the Judy Dosh series began. It features the lives of a group of imaginary people and their struggles to get on with life and each other.

Book preview

Chapter 1 - The Mirror

Judy Dosh stared at her reflection in the huge mirror doors of her wardrobe. The built-in robe with its mirrors was a recent addition to the bedroom and Judy tended to spend a lot of her time thinking and talking to herself in front of the mirrors. Thirty years ago we wouldn’t have had such large mirrors, she thought, and I wouldn’t have had to look at myself so much. She wondered if the great philosophers of the past used mirrors as creatively as she did? Did Plato even have a mirror? But I’m not a true philosopher she thought, just a deep thinker, maybe a reflective thinker, with or without a mirror.

Why are we so vulnerable? Are our egos really that vulnerable that we have to spend so much time protecting them? Can they even be protected? She actually thought her ego pretty healthy really, except when it came to men. She knew that men shouldn’t be a problem but they were. They were a problem when she had a man in her life and an even bigger problem when she didn’t. At the moment she was single and wished that she had a partner. A soul mate she could share her thoughts with. But at 33 she was beginning to despair of ever finding someone she could relate to and commit to. It really seemed to be getting harder out there to find the right person and the search for Mr Right often turned up some pretty dodgy characters.

At least she wasn’t alone. She had plenty of friends in the same position who formed an important network in her life. Every now and then someone would leave the group and get involved with one of the scarce males who appeared on the scene at far too infrequent intervals. Many of these romances seemed to end just as suddenly as they began, with the girlfriend returning to the network for support and commiserations. This comforting support was often given in return for a detailed account of the romance, and revelations and discussions about that particular male and how they related to everyone’s experience with men in general. And Judy had had her fair share of leaving the network for a trial romance, but certainly not as often as she would have liked. Why was that, she asked the mirror. The mirror didn’t answer.

She looked hard at the mirror, first at her eyes, she remembered that John had called them beautiful, and there was no doubting that in romantic times they had received their fair share of compliments. But at the moment they looked sad and tired. Her brief relationship with John had ended about 18 months previously but already seemed to be in some distant past. He never bothered to get to know her, thinking she was like all women and didn’t need to be experienced personally. I needed someone to believe in me she thought. And I’ve got to believe in myself. She’d have to ditch the comfort of the network and start searching for her own truth. Something real. Sometimes we seem to cut off the paths to our own happiness, she thought, just because it seems safer to be cynical and save ourselves rather than to get out there and become involved. She didn’t have a dramatic sense of herself, she never lived for the drama of a situation but rather for the truth she found in it or through it. And she knew now that she had to go in search of one 0f life’s big truths or risk being stuck permanently in the network. Her face frowned at her mirror image. Deep in thought she looked now at her mouth which seemed to have its own optimism, and more often than not was smiling, giving the impression of a happy countenance, even when she wasn’t particularly happy with life. You’re not fooling me, she muttered at her reflection and her mouth lit up immediately with an infectious smile.

Getting to know oneself takes a little bit of solitude, she thought, and that is what she needed right now, time away from the girls-club network. It would be difficult to arrange, you don’t get out of those things that easy, but I must, I need to think clearly. There’s got to be more to it all than this! I’m more than a girl in a network. I’m an individual and a mixture of many parts. I’m part psychologist, part philosopher and so many other parts! I love mankind, male and female! It’s not just the sex thing I’m looking for. Although it was also that she reflected. Her love life! At the moment - non-existent!

She allowed the towel to drop to the floor and stared hard at her completely naked image in the mirror. She was strong and muscular. Training for triathlon had seen to that, yet beyond the muscle definition she was completely feminine. Her breasts, small firm and pert and her muscular toned legs made her look much younger than her 33 years. An older woman in a girl’s body she thought. How weird! Still rather that than a young girl in an older women’s body. You saw plenty of those these days. Especially amongst girls who all too easily came to terms with being out-of-condition and overweight, rather than changing their lifestyles and doing something about it. She stretched upward her arms gracefully twisting, and then turning her back to the mirror she peered over her shoulder to try and view her back. She wondered if any of her lovers had ever bothered to look at her back. They were always in such a hurry she thought, silly buggers, they missed some of the best parts.

Her mind jerked back to the reality of her naked image in the mirror. First she had to get a bit more air and sun on her body. We’ve swung too much the other way. This was actually the case with many things in today’s world of change, but seemed especially true of our fear of sunlight. Surely a little sun and air has got to be better than none at all. Second she had to find someone to love her and her body. She hated the expectation that a woman needed a man, she needed a person. A person who could love her and understand her in return for her love and understanding.  She turned again to have a last look at her front, and actually, she mused, it would be quite nice if that person who loved her and understood her turned out to be a man.

Chapter 2  - Fishpond Conversations

Judy settled down in the back garden near the fishpond, a place she reasoned to be pretty secluded. But she knew that if Mrs Emms decided to, she could stand on her upturned crate and lean over the fence, and it was something she quite often did.

Mrs Emms was a very old school type of neighbour. She was only in her early 50s but looked older somehow, and acted like the busybody type of woman you imagined living next door to your grandmother in the 1940s. She was never short of unsolicited advice and had a keen nose for anything unusual happening on the other side of the fence.

Feeling that it was safe to do so Judy opened her shirt exposing the top of her body to the elements. Immediately enjoying the touch of the sun on her breasts, she checked again for signs of Mrs Emms and then removed her top altogether. This was the first day of her new regime, and she could at last enjoy the fresh air, the wind and the sun on her naked skin. It was not that she thought she would look better with an all-over tan, and she certainly didn’t even consider becoming a genuine nudist, but she did want to rediscover her body’s reaction to the elements, both from a health point of view and because she needed to taste the sensuality of the touch of wind and sun on skin.

She drifted away blissfully as the warm sun seemed to stroke her naked skin with something akin to a soothing lotion. And, as often happens when one is genuinely relaxed and happy, her thoughts wandered away aimlessly. Back to previous times, times when she had felt safe and protected, times when she had felt brave and daring. Even in her relatively short life she had already accumulated a thick book full of happy memories and she flicked through the pages slowly, eventually getting right back to the beginning.

She saw herself as a naked toddler playing with a spade and bucket in the back garden at the old house back in Green Street. Mind you don’t catch too much sun, she heard her mother say. Judy pondered over the amazing power of memory. Again she heard her mother say, Hello! I said, mind you don’t catch too much sun. Except it wasn’t her mother, it was a male voice, and it wasn’t in her dream it was right here and now.

She pulled the shirt on quickly and instinctively hugged it tightly to her body as she tried to do up the buttons, her desperate fingers, totally out of sync with the rest of her body making a bit of a mess of things. All the while she looked around furtively for the owner of the male voice. Eventually, once fully dressed and in control of things, she began to think she had dreamt the voice. Relaxing a little she leant back to enjoy the sun, this time with the shirt fully buttoned.

I’m over here.

Over where?

Over here next to the fishpond.

Judy looked again, there was nobody, only a large pile of rocks which someone, years ago, had used to try to create a rockery, but then had apparently given up the project when only half finished.

Where are you?

Over here, you are looking at me now!

I can’t see you!

You can, I’m the third rock from the left.

You’re a rock?

Yes, I’m the third rock from the left! Do you want me to wiggle? Will you believe me if I wiggle?

Wiggle?

Judy looked across at the pile of rocks and one of them, actually to be specific, the third rock from the left, appeared to wiggle. What is this, thought Judy. She had admittedly done her fair share of drinking in the past and experienced the resultant hangovers - this was definitely not one of those experiences. She’d never done hallucinogenic drugs, ever, so this wasn’t a flashback. Oh my God, she thought, this is for real!

How long have you been here? And how long have you been watching me?

I really don’t know how how long I’ve been here, a long time, that much I do know - much longer that 200 years. And I can’t really watch you because I haven’t got eyes.

Good! And I meant how long have you been part of that pile of rocks, so I don’t need any smart arsed answer about being here longer than the immigrants.

Sorry!

So tell me about yourself.

Well if we’re going to sit and chat for a while you might as well take your top off again.

So you can see!

Rocks can’t see but we know - and we’ve been around a long time so we know a lot.

So you’ve already said!

There was a silence, Judy considered her position and where she was. Besides the fact that she was talking to a rock things were pretty good.

It was a perfect day in a beautiful natural garden which had its own overgrown beauty. It hadn’t suffered the ignominy of a make over, and thus retained its history and its personality. Most importantly Judy felt comfortable there. Once more she removed her top and lay back on the lawn. The third rock from the left moved slightly. She wondered if he was trying to get a better view.

Are you a bloke rock?

Bloke rock? How can there be such a thing as a bloke rock? You’re the first person to live here who actually has an university education and you still ask me about bloke rocks!

Did you speak to the other people who lived here?

No, most of them were market gardeners and you’ve got to be careful about chatting to people with picks and shovels, they’re not always predictable, especially the Croatians!

So the Croatians started to make the rockery?

No! The Italians dug up the rocks to make the garden, they left the rocks lying around the edge of the garden bed, and when the Croatians moved in they piled them up over here. That woeful attempt at a rockery was actually the work of some Pom who was only here for 18 months before he packed up again and went back to Birmingham.

Quite a history! So you were dug up by the Italians?

Don’t assume things! I was bought down here from up north by some prospector. He thought I was something special, then changed his mind and chucked me away.

"I know how