Carol Vorvain Carol Vorvain is an Australian fiction writer who lives in Melbourne, a city famous for having all four seasons in a day.
A lawyer and mediator by training, Carol writes uplifting, touching stories about people from all over the world.
Her characters are funny and witty while exploring life choices and the power of intention, change and passion.
She loves to travel, share a laugh, and dream with her eyes wide open in her beautiful rose garden.
Here’s a little about Carol Vorvain’s novel – When Dreams Are Calling:
Inspired by a true story, When Dreams are Calling is a powerful mixture of adventure, travel and reflections that will redefine your idea of courage while making you laugh all the way.
The main character, Dora, is a witty young woman who chases her dreams across continents, from Europe to America, then to Asia, and finally, to the far away shores of Australia.
We see the changes she goes through, the price she pays for following her dreams, but also the rewards she gets on the way. Her life is a roller coaster and her plan is nothing more than the confidence that everything will work out for the best.
The story is filled with magical words of wisdom that will inspire and delight you, while making you reflect on the beauty of friendship, lust, love and kindness.
“Words have power, dreams have power, we have power” is the motif which echoes all through this enthralling novel that bursts with optimism.
Q. Carol, I loved reading the excerpt below, hearing about Europe through the eyes of a European. You must really miss the unique flavours, aromas, the cadences of speech. Do you return to Europe often?
I miss more traveling to new places than going back to the ones I was lucky enough to visit or to live in. No, I do not return to Europe often. But I always carry Europe with me in my heart wherever I go.
Q. You say When Dreams are Calling is inspired by a true story. Would you say it’s autobiographical?
No. It is inspired by my own life events, but it is not a memoir. Gabriel Garcia Marquez said “All human beings have three lives: public, private, and secret.” Not sure if a writer’s life can be a secret, as with each book he reveals a tiny bit of it, but it can be private. In a true memoir there is no privacy. A true memoir for me reveals everything, including the things you would prefer not to remember. The good, the bad and the ugly. I have a very selective memory. I only remember what is good, beautiful and brought joy to my life. So, even if I would want to, I doubt I could write a memoir.
Q. It seems you are a true citizen of the world, having lived in so many diverse countries. Where does your heart call home?
Each time when I am in a new place, I feel like home. And each time when I am for too long in the same old place, I feel a bit like a stranger. I guess, I am a bit of a nomad.
Q. Are your days of wanderlust behind you now, or are there likely to be more adventures to come?
If someone will tell me those days of wanderlust are behind me, I would feel my whole life is behind me and I am just a creature with no purpose. Definitely more adventures to come. The more, the merrier.
Q. What books do you like to read? Who are your favourite authors?
The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. Whenever I am not sure about something, I close my eyes and open the book. And the right answer always reveals itself. It’s magical.
Q. I love the little hidden gems in your writing – the words of wisdom that often strike a chord so deeply that I wonder if in fact it is letting the reader know that you are talking directly to them. Have you always had a deep consciousness of the needs of others?
When I was a child, I drove my mom mad with one simple question: why? As they say, old habits die hard. So, nowadays, I still ask this question all the time, the only difference this time being I drive myself crazy with it. But, even if we find our answer and then, we do not draw a conclusion for the future, the time we spent tormenting ourselves, is wasted. Those pearls of wisdom at the end of each chapter try to do just that: take the facts, understand the underlying reasons and draw some conclusions for the future.
If you care about others then you will always try to become better. If you care about yourself then you will always try to become the best you could possibly be. So, I think I care about both enough to always ask myself why:)
I have to say that although a lot of people mention they love Dora’s reflection at the end of each chapter, I am equally attached to the short poems introducing each chapter. They made me laugh while writing them and make me laugh now when I open the book.
Q. The free eCards on your website are beautiful. What sort of feedback have you had from people who have used them? Tell us one or two you liked the most?
They make people smile. And smile some more. And this means I have achieved my purpose: to make others’ laugh while reflecting on the beauty of lust, love, kindness, courage, dreams. The book was thought as an inspirational book above anything else. Only that this time, instead of reading only words of wisdom one after another, sometimes wondering how does this apply in the real life of the 21st century, you read about it.
As Dora says in the book, “same as wisdom cannot be bestowed upon me while comfortably sitting in the middle of my own bed indulging myself in reading philosophy books or judging others, patience does not mean to sit around, decry your fate, and pray for a change to happen.”
Maybe my formal training as a lawyer also has a say in it: Give me the facts first, then the conclusions.
I don’t have favourite quotes. They are all my children, so I love them all. So, here are some that a reader picked up when he reviewed the book:
- Doubt is what keeps the hope alive.
- Reality is less important than our perception of it.
- Don’t ask your children to be something they are not. Instead, teach them how to make the most of who they are.
Q. Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
“Words have power, dreams have power, we have power” is the motif of my book. Believe in it. It always works for me.
Thank you Carol. As a real treat for our readers, here is an excerpt from When Dreams are Calling.
A Rose in Amsterdam
To learn my lessons, play and pray,
But here I was time and again,
Her blood was running through my veins,
And so, I went to say Hello,
Bongiorno, Buna or Bonjour,
To mother Europe: love toujours!
In search for happiness I went astray
Whenever I need inspiration and courage, I travel: for a few days, for a
few weeks, for a few months, for whatever it takes.
I travel to confront and forget my old worries,
fears, and even hopes and forge new ones, to shed my own skin and let a new
layer take over, to find the answers I am looking for, the path which I lost.
I travel because when I travel I feel life is
beautiful.
Sometimes I go far away, to meet cultures
different than my own, to learn words I can barely pronounce. Other times, I
miss home, I miss Europe.
Europe is my old friend, my beloved
mother, my ideal lover. It’s my refuge, my escape from the storms, my place to
rejoice and to rest.
And now, after I quit my job and I was unsure
of what I wanted to do next, it was time for me to pay it a visit. A long three
months visit.
Like always, I did not know if I would find in Europe whatever answers I was looking for, but something
told me I had to go. Jessica’s mourning process was also taking a toll on her
and so, she decided to join me for the first two weeks.
“Wake up, sleepy head!” Jessica screamed at me.
“Just go away! I was dreaming.”
“Like it wouldn’t be enough you dream during
the day, now you have to dream during the night too! What were you dreaming
about?”
“We were renting a small house with a boat
beside the river in Giethoorn, the Venice of Holland. After a delicious
breakfast in an open-air cafe on the shores of the Bosphorus, we went hiking
around Lake Como in Italy, then straight into the Ice Caves
in Austria.
We spent the afternoon swimming and watching the sunset over the wineries in
Corniglia, Cinque Terre, listening to the loud, lively Italians. We went for
lunch in Salzburg
to have a garlic soup and then to a Parisian fancy cafe which serves a
delicious beef tartar. We spent the night on a boat in Monaco, and
fell asleep caressed by the waves crashing on the shore.”
“Wow! Weren’t we busy? You got the first bit
almost right.”
“What do you mean?” I said, trying hard to wake
up while my head was spinning. Then, I saw on the table some cheese with figs
and mustard.
“Welcome to Amsterdam! Welcome to free love, to
avant-garde music and art, to Cannabis Cup and intriguing sex shops, to red
cubicles and flamboyant women, to narrow canals and gay pride,” Jessica
exclaimed turning on the twenty-four-seven unlimited porn channel. “We arrived
yesterday morning and you have slept almost twenty four hours. It must have
been the jet lag! But now that you’re finally awake, you’d better stay like
that! As long as I’m here, we’ll have a blast!”
For the next two weeks, we roamed the streets
of Amsterdam,
waking up before the roosters and collapsing late at night with a new list with
must sees for the following day.
“I know why all those people are happy here!
It’s the pills!” she told me one day, happy like a baby finally catching Santa
in the act.
“The contraception pills, you mean?” I made fun
of her statement.
“Those too. But look here, miracle pills!” she
pointed to a store displaying hundreds of pills colorfully packed. “Wow! That’s
a lot of pills! Let’s go in! We might need a few!”
“Knowing which one is the one for us will be
tricky though!”
Holding a shiny package, Jessica started to
read out loud: “If you never want to get off the sofa, this is for you!”
“Why someone would never want to get off the
sofa?”
“I don’t know. It looks like the pill promotes
a blissful slow painless death. Not the right one for us. But, look here: Aquarius,
the cosmic experience. Aren’t you an Aquarius? That might explain your hot
episodes with your Stallion.”
“Guilty as charged. And if you’re so curious,
just try me. You might not need this pill after all,” I said laughing at her.
“If I’ll try you, I’ll definitely not need that
pill over there!” she laughed back pointing to the contraception shelves.
“But, just in case I might be too much for you,
you might need a condom! So, which one should it be? The black cactus with
spines all over for intense pleasure or itchiness or the daring dragon? Or
maybe you fancy a tiny mouse for your future husband? The bicycle and the
windmill if he is Dutch, the pumpkin or the golf ball if he is an American lost
in the clouds?” I asked, showing her the tons of condoms coming in all kinds of
size, shape and design to protect the knight for the night.
“Perhaps the Christmas tree with the elk for
festive occasions or the romantic heart condom in case he decides to propose to
me in the heat of the moment?”
“Why not the one with the clock if he’s married
with his business or just with someone else?”
“If that’s the case, I won’t need a condom at
all. Anyway, how could we possibly know the right size?”
“Put it this way: if we buy a condom that’s too
small for him, we chose the right guy. But, if we buy one that’s too big, in
this case, maybe we should skip the affair altogether.”
“And then, I’ll have no choice than coming back
to you, for that Aquarius cosmic experience.”
“You got it! Behind any lesbian stands an
impotent man!”
“Look here, How to use a condom: keep the
condom away from the light and heat.”
“Why? Will it melt? What should one do when in
the middle of a poppy field, in one of those hot summer days when all you need
is love? Wait for those cold nights of winter and in the meantime keep it in
the fridge?”
“Hahaha! Dora, listen to the next one, it’s
even less enticing: Don't have intercourse with a condom for too long.”
“Define too long. Plus, we’re usually in no
danger for this to happen…”
“Unfortunately… You don’t like Woody Allen’s
movies, right?” Jessica asked me, suddenly changing the topic.
“No, not really. I feel either depressed or
stupid after watching any of them. None of those states of mind are quite a
happy ending for me.”
“You might start to like him more. Read here
what the maestro said: ‘Is sex dirty? Only when it’s done right.’”
“Or with the shoes on,” I responded.
“Or another one: ‘Don't knock masturbation.
It's sex with someone you love.’”
“Or you hate!” I fired back.
“You really don’t like Woody Allen!”
“I told you…I dislike with the same passion I
like.”
“Then I’d better make sure you continue to like
me, Miss Aquarius!”
“You’d better, Miss Leo!”
On our last day in Amsterdam, we were walking back home when we
saw a man in the distance leaving a red rose and an envelope on our doorstep.
Then, he left in a hurry.
We ran and full of curiosity and excitement
opened the envelope: “For Dora, Never give up on love,” signed: Tomás. There
was no last name, no address, no telephone number.
We followed him to a small café where violins
were playing and baskets of colorful flowers were hanging by the door. But we
were too late. He was gone. We lost him.
“Leave a message for him with the waitress. He
might return. You never know, he might be your next stallion,” Jessica said,
amused of the whole thing.
“I don’t want another stallion!”
“Then tell him what you want! Tell him he has to
feel right with the emphasis on feel,” she continued, starting to
moan softly in my ears.
“You’re a pain, has anybody told you?”
“And you’re a hotty disguised as a nun! Do it
and let’s get it over with! Tomorrow when I’ll go back to Australia, I
want to know I left you in good hands!”
And so I did. I left my message to him with the
waitress, just in case he might return:
“I don’t just date. I’m looking for my soul
mate. I don’t pamper! I don’t build and ruin dreams! I am what you see! I think
what you hear! I can’t stand rogues or clowns! I look for a real man, one who
admits his mistakes and brags about his achievements, who knows what he wants
and is not afraid to admit it; who has the courage to love and the strength to
leave when love is gone!
Come and meet me! You will either adore me or
hate me! You will either be sick of me or never tired of me! Let’s plunge
together into the unknown, and emerge forever victorious! I will take the TGV
tomorrow to Paris.
Dora”
And this is when a new chapter of my life
began.
Dora’s
Journal Notes
·
Sometimes, a rose on our
doorstep seems to be all we struggle for.
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