The write road to recovery

I’ve been a bookworm since before I could read. I loved the look and feel of books, the smell of the pages and the world they transported me to while my nose was hidden between their leaves.

Not just content to read, I created my own narratives from an early age. 

Aged ten-and-a-half I wrote my first short story, which (in equal measure) delighted my teacher and terrified my mum with its ahead-of-my-years content.

Words continue to fascinate me and I recently penned my first novel… a children’s book (the content of which is probably still ahead of my years!) For me, writing is a hobby, a source of income and, at times, even a form of therapy.

The majority of my book was written while I had a severe throat infection. I had an abscess in my throat that prevented me from talking, swallowing, eating and drinking. I eventually ended up in A&E and was in so much pain I genuinely wanted to die: think tonsillitis and then times that by ten (or by a million if, like me, you’re prone to exaggeration).

Because the pain was worse first thing in the morning, I was too afraid to sleep, so for three days solid I kept myself awake and tried to take my mind off it. Writing my book was one of the only things that helped, and it was awesome that something good came out of something so horrendous. It needs redrafting now and although I’m hoping to avoid the throat lurgy this time round, it’s good to know there’s something I can do if it strikes again!

But it seems I’m not the only one to have spotted the link between physical trials and prosaic therapy. Writing in The Telegraph, Jessica Jones explains how Guillain Barré Syndrome rendered her totally paralysed at the age of 25. One day her toes felt numb, then a week later she was unable to move, breathe or speak.

Jessica’s mother, who sat faithfully by her hospital bedside throughout, read PG Wodehouse aloud to her, using different voices for each character. “Inside my waxen, immobile body I was aching with laughter. Those books were written with a lightness and sense of the absurd that helped me to find the funny side of my own predicament,” Jessica writes.

Although she had to relearn to walk, talk and write, she has never forgotten how listening to them helped her “to escape the terror and confusion of being paralysed”. And whether it was her illness or her new-found love for Wodehouse that got to her, Jessica decided to pen her own masterpiece.

The Elegant Art of Falling Apart has been described as “inspiring, unflinchingly honest, and even at times laugh out loud hilarious”. It not only documents this terrible paralysis, it also covers her battle with cancer and being dumped straight after. Like me, Jessica seems to have found comfort in both listening to books being read and writing her own.

Having said that, the book that brings me the greatest consolation in the world is the Bible. Why? Because it is true and it has all the answers. It doesn’t just act as a distraction (like a novel) or an opportunity to vent (like an autobiography). It is rich in meaning, in language and in the way it connects the soul as well as the mind.

Whether you’re a traditional book reader, a fan of the Kindle, or an audiobook/podcast kind of person, it is the only piece of literature that can transform your world. The Bible also constantly reminds me that however literary and creative I think I am, God is just a tiny bit better at it! 

Read more from Joy in the next issue of Liberti magazine.