The real-life story behind Jo Bartlett‘s most personal novel yet, Mistletoe and Magic for the Cornish Midwife✨
It’s probably strange that my twenty-third book, Mistletoe and Magic for the Cornish Midwife, has ended up being the most personal story I’ve written. There’s a theory that an author’s second book is their most personal and there’s a lot of me in that novel too, but there are big themes in Mistletoe and Magic that link to my own life: a cancer diagnosis, single-parenthood and miscarriage. Now you might be forgiven for thinking that those things don’t sound very festive, or much like the brand of feel good happy-ever-afters I usually specialise in. But that’s where you’d be wrong, because both in my own life and in the story itself, there’s proof that even the toughest paths can lead to a happier destination.
I was twenty-six when I suffered a miscarriage, but I went on to have two successful pregnancies and I know how incredibly lucky I am to have my wonderful children. My first marriage broke up right before Christmas, in the year after my daughter was born, partly because her father struggled to adjust to how much life had changed. I was completely floored, after twelve years together, that I was suddenly a single parent going through a divorce. But looking back, if I hadn’t suffered the miscarriage, it’s very unlikely I’d have my beautiful daughter now, because the relationship with her father wouldn’t have survived the first year of parenthood then either. Despite the pain of those losses, I’d go through both again in a heartbeat to end up with my girl.
The breakdown of my first marriage also led to me meeting my second husband. In February next year, we’ll be celebrating twenty years since the day we met. That was exactly two years to the day before the birth of our son, who has grown up to be one of the best people I know. After a bumpy road, I got my very own happy-ever-after and the bonus is that it brought my two wonderful step-children into my life. Within two years, I went from being a broken-hearted single parent to a mum of four, with a family life that’s taken us on so many adventures and given me the sort of Christmases I write about in my books. There’s a bit more about that, and my best and worst Christmases, in my latest newsletter. If you want to find out more, and don’t already subscribe, you can do so here: http://bit.ly/JoBartlettNews
But what about cancer? Can that really have a happy ending? For so many people it doesn’t and if you’ve read the dedication and acknowledgements in a Surprise Arrival for the Cornish Midwife, you’ll know I lost a brilliant friend, Danni Starley, to cancer last year. There are other amazing women in my life currently dealing with cancer too, including my beautiful cousin, Viv, to whom Mistletoe and Magic is dedicated. The fundraising into finally stopping this awful disease is very close to my heart and I will continue to donate royalties from my books to this cause. Partly because I know how blessed I am to have recovered fully from a diagnosis of cancer, when I was thirty-nine and my son and daughter were five and eight years old.
I remember putting my son to bed, wondering who would read his bedtime stories if I didn’t make it through. I ended up one kidney down, but unendingly grateful for the opportunity to see my children grow up. It was a catalyst for change too. I left my job as a manager of an FE college, to go freelance, so that I’d never miss another school play or sports day. It also gave me the impetus to finally follow my dream and finish the novel that I’d started and abandoned several times before. Twelve years down the line, I’ve just finished my twenty-fourth book, which will be the seventh in the Cornish Midwife series.
So that’s my story. Like Nadia in Mistletoe and Magic for the Cornish Midwife, I’ve been through some difficult times, but I really have got my happy-ever-after with an amazing family and the job I always dreamt of. If you’re going through a tough time right now, and Christmas is a reminder of all the things you haven’t got, remember that the best might well be yet to come. If you haven’t already found your happy-ever-after, I hope it’s just around the corner.