My first experience of anonymity in print occurred in my late teens. On behalf of the local Junior Farmers in Northam, Western Australia, I had written a report of its Annual General Meeting and submitted it to the local newspaper. To my surprise, this was printed on the front page as second lead.

The next experience was also in a local newspaper. This time in the Newton Abbot weekly local news. I had submitted the Abbotskerswell village report to the paper and had expected it to be included in that section. The fact that it was printed as a separate article did not go down well with the villagers who had sought the local doings in the usual spot.

The above experiences were to be expected and not a cause of concern, except perhaps as a foreshadowing?

In 1969, from the stage of the Old Vic, Patrick Wymark first read Donne’s Ecstasy then said, “The following poem I am about to read was written, believe it or not, by a young Australian barmaid at my local.” Following this he read Blake’s Tyger, Tyger . I sat in the audience, stunned by being sandwiched between these two great poets. Since then, at the back of my mind, I have felt reassured that some of my writings may be enjoyed way into the future.

In 1978, while an undergraduate at the University of Adelaide, one of my poems was used immediately after the interval break in a drama production. No mention of my name in the programme. Some assumed it had been written by the playright.

In 1979 – or was it 1980 – On Dit, the Uni’s student paper, published half a page of my poems, including that read at the Old Vic. The poems were printed against the background of a young woman with long flowing hair. My first reaction was to wonder where they had sourced the photograph until I realised it was someone who looked much like me a decade earlier. But mention of my name (nor of the name of the person whose image it was.)

So, I wrote a letter to the editor of On Dit with a heading, “Always the Bridesmaid.” detailing the above three incidences. I suggested that future students in English Lit may find my work signed off as “Anonymous.” The letter was published, with no mention of the writer’s name.

By this time I am beginning to get a message.

Also in 1969, the BBC’s Playschool purchased several of my poems. When I mentioned this to someone in Adelaide, that person had doubts as she sought me through Playschool publications, until I pointed out that my name, at that time, was “Isabel Reeves”.

So I guess the change of name from Kelly to Reeves to Donaldson to Storey may have impacted on whether I ever ceased to be anonymous in print? So I am sticking with “Storey”.

As I am only ever going to write one novel and have no anticipation of ever making either a name or an income from it, I have decided to push whatever I have done out into the ether in the hope that somewhere, someone, sometime enjoys the effort.