A boy once told me how I would die.

He told me that at the age of 37, I would be diagnosed with breast cancer in my right breast. It would be a short, aggressive illness, and a battle I would not win. I would die on 20th June 2022, alone and friendless in a cold hospital bed. So, when I found a lump in my breast on an icy winter’s night in January 2022, I was filled with a fear like nothing I had ever experienced.

The boy who told me this was my first boyfriend. I was 13 when we met, and 16 when I finally found the courage to end the relationship. I know now that he was a pathological liar, a psychotic bully who thrived on control and terrified me beyond belief for most of the two and a half years we were together. I now recognise that our relationship was abusive, emotionally, mentally and towards the end of our time together, physically. He would threaten to harm himself or harm me if I cut contact, and so I stayed, for much longer than I should have done. One day, I will write in more detail about my time with the boy and how his actions have affected my life, but now is not that time.

As an adult, I knew deep down that no one can predict the future and the lump in my breast was merely a coincidence (and possibly benign – it had none of the typical features of a cancerous lump). Nevertheless, the experience caused me to spiral. I began to experience anxiety attacks (mostly at night before bed and in the early mornings, which severely disturbed my sleep and left me feeling like one of the living dead). My skin broke out in red, scaly patches, that no moisturiser would clear. I lost weight. I stopped eating. My mind travelled to a dark place and my work suffered. Sometimes I could feel the lump and other times I could not. I felt as if I was losing my mind. Eventually, I consulted my doctor, and she prescribed anti-depressants, therapy and a mammogram.

After a long 3 week wait for a hospital appointment, a mammogram and ultrasound revealed the lump to be benign. It turned out to be a swollen gland that increased in size in accordance with my hormones (hence why I could feel it at certain times and not at others). My relief at hearing that the lump was benign was so intense that I immediately burst into tears, leading three concerned nurses to rush over and comfort me.

One of the worst experiences of my life was over, but the effects stayed with me for many months. In some ways, they are still with me today. I found myself reflecting on my life, and my past choices. Had I really lived the life I wanted for myself? Will the choices I have made in my life lead to regret, or a sense of accomplishment? Have I lived my life with meaning and purpose? Have I created anything of which I was truly proud?

I have spent my life moving. Moving house, moving jobs, moving between friendships and relationships, moving through each day with caution. But throughout my many movements, the one constant in my life has been books. For as long as I can remember, I have been an avid reader. Most people in life have a passion – for some people it’s sport, or food, or fitness. My passion is books.

My name is Sarah, and I’m addicted to books.

Books have shaped my life in a way that no person ever could. They have been my friends and constant companions through times of anxiety and stress, they have helped me to relax and grounded me throughout a lifelong battle with depression and anxiety.

Reading is a non-negotiable part of my daily routine. I read on trains, whilst waiting in the car outside shops or petrol stations, at art galleries, in cafes, in fields, even standing outside buildings in a crowded city. I read everything that interests me, never sticking to one genre – I enjoy them all, from thrillers to the classics, biographies, memoirs, poetry, westerns and young adult books. I don’t have a go-to or a “type”. If it is a good story told well, I will read it.

I don’t consider myself to be an intellectual. Neither do I consider myself to be particularly well read. I have never finished the complete works of Shakespeare (although I do own a copy). I couldn’t finish Mrs Dalloway, Swann’s Way or Doctor Zhivago. It took me three attempts to finish Lord of the Rings. My long-standing project to read the complete works of Charles Dickens has stalled at 5 novels, and I have struggled with most of them (but I did enjoy Oliver Twist and Great Expectations). I tend to dislike books that other people love and often find myself enjoying titles that some people hate. For instance, I found On the Road by Jack Kerouac dull and meandering but thoroughly enjoyed The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. The phases and stages of my life influence what I read. Sometimes I’m in a non-fiction phase, and sometimes I decide to widen my range and begin working my way through the classics (again).

When I find a book I love, I am obsessed. I find excuses to read it every moment I can. I have been known to read on my lunchbreak, whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, and on many occasions whilst I probably should be doing something much more important. A long time ago, I was once told off for reading at work. The simple joy of sitting quietly with a good book at the end of my working day is one of the greatest pleasures in my life.

I originally began this blog in 2023, having been a fair-weather writer for several years. My issue is that I concern myself far too much with the opinions of others, and on discovering that several people close to me did not read my blog, I was deeply upset and gave it up. Around the same time, I was focused on changing careers and wanted to put my all into learning new skills. But, having felt for a long time an emptiness I could not put my finger on, I’ve decided to revisit this blog with a new name and a new stance.

Book and a Brew is named after my happy place – a good book with a good cup of tea. It is the place where I feel most secure, and free from the prison of depression and anxiety. Book and a Brew has been part of my life for two years now and has grown from an Instagram account (@book_anda_brew) to a small reading group at Cannock Library, which meets on alternate Saturdays. We are a small community, who lift each other up and believe passionately in the power of reading to improve our wellbeing.

Now is the right time to revisit writing.

In this blog, I’ll be working through the books on my (extensive) To Be Read List. It is safe to say that I own a lot of books! I deviate between physical books, Kindle books and audiobooks – I do not discriminate or believe that one medium is more worthy than another. I currently follow 4 (!) high profile book clubs and have made my way through so many reading challenges I’ve had to stop as I simply can’t keep up anymore. I try not to re-read. I’m addicted to the thrill of reading books that I know nothing (or very little) about, and the voyage of discovering whether a book is something I will enjoy (or not).

I keep a book journal, and my notes from that journal will form much of the content of this blog. I’ll also be re-posting some of my previous pieces and adding new ones as I see fit.

I am not a literary critic, nor am I an author. You may disagree with some of my thoughts or decide that I am not particularly well read. That’s ok. I am simply a lover of books, with a passion for reading. I’m an eclectic reader and try to avoid being stuck in a rut by discovering different genres and authors. I enjoy the process of pushing myself to read widely. I do not stick to one particular genre, or certain authors (although I do have my favourites). I’m not perfect. From time to time, I have a relapse and revisit an old favourite or go on an economy drive and raid my local library rather than buying new titles. We all have our quirks.

I hope you’ll join me on this journey, and that I’m able to introduce you to books I enjoy (or did not enjoy, in some instances). Along the way, I’ll be sharing memories and stories associated with some of the titles and authors I share. I may even discover a few titles that I’d forgotten about. On second thoughts, that’s unlikely – you will learn soon enough, that I have a memory better than any elephant.

Perhaps you’ll agree with my thoughts. Perhaps you won’t.

We may even have fun together x