The Joy of books

For author and Summerset resident, Joy Cowley, it was the sight of a towering polar bear (thankfully stuffed) standing guard within the entrance hall of a school that reaffirmed her view that early reading experiences needs to be meaningful for a child.

“That animal was shot and killed by a 6-year-old,” says Joy. “In North Alaska (where the school was), the children know that polar bears are not cuddly sweet animals. They also doubt the existence of trees, having never seen one in real life. Context is important. Children should see themselves in a book.” So, no stories about sweet polar bears are written for children living in the arctic, then, and equally forget stories about snowy Christmases for children living in hot climes. Instead, Joy’s books tap into children’s lived experiences. “So many books for children in poorer countries are written from a typical colonial perspective. My heart remains with the children who see other children in a book, but never themselves.”

The celebrated children’s writer and New Zealand Order of Merit holder, who lives at Summerset at Bishopscourt, was inspired to write children’s books by her son Edward, who had reading struggles. Dismayed by the dull ‘Dick and Jane’ books on offer at school, and realising Edward liked to read stories about himself, Joy wrote stories based on a word list, where he was the protagonist. Understanding that children learn best when they can identify themselves in a story, her books help readers to find themselves within the pages. Joy began to write countless books aimed at improving children’s confidence in reading, which she thinks comes from empowerment and pleasure. “Humour is a great tool,” she says. “Children aren’t tense when they are laughing.”

Joy’s writing career has gone from strength to strength over the years. “I don’t know how many books I have written,” says Joy thoughtfully. “More than 600 titles under my own name, but I have written many more for free for third-world or developing countries.” Joy finds inspiration for her stories in everyday life. Mrs Wishy Washy, the farmer’s wife who is obsessed with keeping her farmyard animals sparkling clean, is one of the most recognisable children’s story characters, both in New Zealand and abroad. “I was having a bath in winter, murmuring ‘swish, swash, wish, wash,’ and suddenly an image of a crazy lady and all these animals popped into my head. Mrs Wishy Washy was born!” Greedy Cat, the series about the adventures of a fat ginger cat and his family’s struggles to rein in his voracious appetite, was inspired by a neighbourhood child in Wellington informing Joy that he had a new cat, telling her it has a name, “but we just call it Greedy Cat.”

Joy collaborates with her young readers; a competition at schools invited fans to submit drawings of their pet cats, which Joy would then write a poem about, leading to the creation of Cats, Cats, Cats. All the artists were both paid and are credited in the book – a clever way of encouraging children to see their experiences in a story.

Although she is known for children’s books, Joy started her career writing for adults. “I used to write stories for The Listener when my husband was out in the evenings and I was home alone with the children. A publisher in the USA chanced upon them and asked if I had a novel in me.” Her 1967 book Nest in a Falling Tree explores the relationship between a 43-year-old woman and a 17-year-old man.

The inspiration for the book came from Joy’s own personal life. At the time, the young mother of four, “all born in as many years,” was in an unhappy marriage, and, because divorce was frowned upon, the couple were undergoing marriage counselling. “The counsellor said my emotional age was that of a 40-year-old. Growing up I had to take care of my sick parents, so I had played the role of caregiver for a long time. Ted – my reluctant husband – had an emotional age of 17, seeking freedom and adventure. It was little wonder our relationship played out on the pages of the book.”

In the end, Ted left Joy for a younger woman. As was the custom at the time, Joy was told Ted would have the two boys and she would have the two girls. Rather than split the children up, Joy capitulated and allowed Ted to take their four young children with him. It was a move that almost destroyed Joy and saw her hospitalised for an accidental sleeping pill overdose. “I remember feeling like I was drifting and there was a welcoming bright light. I wanted nothing more than to go to it. But then suddenly it was gone. I woke up in the hospital, and I thought I had only been asleep 10 minutes. It had been three days.” What Joy felt is something she describes as akin to ecstasy. “Once you lose your fear of death, there is no fear left. Everything else came right after that.”

Emerging from the experience with a renewed sense of purpose and emotional strength, Joy was reunited with her children, and her books enjoyed a meteoric rise. Joy moved from focusing on adult stories and spent five years developing the Story Box Reading Programme, which was received with acclaim in both New Zealand and the USA, and many international tours followed.

Love came calling, too, in the form of quiet, humorous Malcolm, an accountant, writer and Italian POW. The pair were together for almost 20 years. “He was kind, so kind,” recalls Joy. “It was a different kind of love than with Ted. His wartime experiences meant that he could never sit with his back to a door, nor leave anything on his plate. Yet he had a wonderful sense of humour. When he died, he said, ‘I am off on my last adventure’.”

Joy believes hard times are the best teachers, and loss is a time of transformation. With the writer’s view that one story must end before another begins, she was propelled to begin her next chapter, running a retreat in the Marlborough Sounds, a place Joy had long associated with healing. The funds came from Roald Dahl, who had bought the royalties to Nest in a Falling Tree and adapted it into the screenplay for the dark 1971 film The Night Digger. Joy set the retreat up as a free respite for those under immense stress. “Malcolm and I had bought a home there, and the money from Dahl meant I could provide a ‘retreat house’ on the same section. Doctors and psychiatrists would refer guests to me. I would drive to Picton to collect them, and they would stay for one or two weeks. With good food and peace and quiet, it would help them heal,” says Joy. “Pristine bush, the water, the Sounds are truly restorative.”

Joy’s grief over the death of her husband began to heal too, thanks to her friendship with Malcolm’s friend and priest Terry Coles. Open to religion since her near-death experience, Joy had become a Catholic on her travels to South America. “I would sit in the churches there. I felt something indescribable. Something beyond what we can know.” When Terry came to visit, their frequent conversations would cover all of life’s big questions, including religion. Their friendship deepened, but as he was a priest there was no question of anything more. “Until the day Terry announced, ‘Bugger this, I want to get married,’” Joy laughs. “I waited for him to say to whom he was proposing, and then it became clear it was to me. It was a distinctly unromantic proposal.” Joy told him to take a religious retreat and undergo counselling. Terry was steadfast in his intentions and the two were married, an act that incensed many in the Catholic community. “The bishop was supportive of Terry’s decision, but Terry got so much hate mail. Letters cut from magazines saying ‘Coles burn in Hell.’ People would cross the road to avoid us. He expected it, but I didn’t.” Despite the detractors, the pair were incredibly happy together, with great differences that were complementary all the same. Joy based her award-winning characters Snake and Lizard on the couple. “I swapped us around, but Terry was Snake. A quiet man who stutters and doesn’t say much at all. I am Lizard, jumping around and chatting constantly.”

The couple were living in Featherston when Terry died in 2022 and Joy, suffering from macular degeneration, began to think about retirement communities. “I wanted to be in a situation where I can get help if I need it. Terry has family in Dunedin, and I first came for a visit to Summerset with a friend two years ago,” says Joy. “It was a summer afternoon, the garden was in full bloom, and people were all talking to one another. I went to the café and there was a warmth and family feeling. I felt right at home.”

In May 2024, Joy moved into a two-bedroom villa at Summerset Bishopscourt. Along with a love of words, Joy is also passionate about painting, wood turning and wool spinning, and her home is dotted with items she has crafted. She also has her correspondence to reply to from her young fans. “I get less now, but I used to get sackfuls when I lived in the Marlborough Sounds. In fact, the IRD investigated my taxes as I was claiming so much on postage. Fortunately, they came to my home on the day the post arrived and saw I wasn’t exaggerating!” Joy still writes, but with her eyesight failing she thinks stories will soon need to be told orally rather than written down. “It is a nuisance. I have had it for seven years now. But you adapt.”

Joy is happy at Summerset at Bishopscourt. “I have the highest regard for how the village is run. It feels like there is true connection here. There are so many people here with similar experiences to me,” says Joy. “Now we are in our wisdom years. It is a time of transition, but also depth and understanding. You get rid of useless baggage, emotional or physical or otherwise. You can value the mistakes you’ve made. You don’t see them as good or bad, but as a time of growth. Don’t get stuck in the tomb of anger, or self-pity or regret. A cup must be emptied to be refilled. While the physical body may weaken, something internal is getting stronger.”

This is an article from the Spring 2024 edition of Summerset Scene magazine

Click here to read the full issue