More Than Words

In vain I have struggled. It will not do. This piece must be written, however imperfectly,  literary constipation is awful.  It must be hell to be a writer!

The past few weeks on BBC have been book heaven for me.  It culminates tomorrow night in a million books being given away to commemorate World Book Day.  I loved the series written and presented by Sebastian Faulks - Faulks On Fiction (still on iPlayer until tomorrow in case you missed it).  I have adored listening to Anne Robinson tease interesting quotes from her guests in My Life In Books.  My favourite guest was the Dowager Duchess of Devonshire, what a fascinating life she has led.  Another brilliant programme, again on the fabulous BBC, was about the evolution of the book cover.

I have loved immersing myself in this literary love-in.  Books have shaped me, educated me and given me somewhere to escape to in times of need.  I could not imagine life without them.  Last night I heard an interview with Julie Nicholson on Radio 4, who daughter was lost in the 7/7 bombings.  It was the best tribute to the written word I have heard in this past fortnight.  The most touching part of the interview for me was when she said it had emerged during the past few months of this long inquest, that her daughter had been reading a book whilst on that fateful tube journey. The police have found the book and identified it as Jennys by DNA testing.  This gave her mother comfort and hope - that she had not looked into the bombers eyes, had not noticed her killer,  but instead had been immersed in her book.   Julie has now written a book herself, a tribute to her musically gifted daughter called A Song For Jenny.  What a very fitting tribute to Jenny, to the strength and courage of Julie,  and to books themselves.