Published By: Whitefox Publishing
Pages: 120
Released On: 22/01/2026
After years of writing about work, wellness and productivity, Emma Gannon hit a wall: chronic burnout left her unable to get out of bed. Something had to change.
A Year of Nothing follows Emma’s quiet rebellion against the cult of doing. Over four seasons, she steps away from the noise and rediscovers joy in life’s simplest pleasures, from dog borrowing and dopamine dressing to relearning how to swim and embracing a child-free life.
This is a gentle, hopeful guide to what happens when you stop trying to fix everything and choose to feel instead.
*****
Thanks to NetGalley and Whitefox Publishing for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
We are always told we should keep busy, keep productive, don’t be lazy. But sometimes it is important that we do take that step back and relax, do nothing, read, watch telly, go for a walk, buy a new candle. We don’t have to be on the go all the time, and we shouldn’t feel guilty about taking time to rest. We shouldn’t have to wait until our body forces us to rest, before we do.
I have one of Emma’s novels and one of her non-fiction books but am yet to read them so this was my first foray into her work, and I really enjoyed it.
As someone who has had her fair share of mental health difficulties, I find it difficult to fully explain how it makes me feel, so I’m always in awe of people who manage to do so.
This is a short but beautiful book and I think it could be really helpful. I didn’t have a breakdown per se, but my illness got too much for me and in 2024 I took an overdose, something I still think about from time to time, not with regret but with a longing to have succeeded. It was the lowest I have ever been and I think sometimes we need to reach that point in order to rise up again, and Emma has pitched this perfectly.
I won’t go into depth about the things she’s written about because you need to read it for yourself, but one bit I really related to was how she talks about her strolls through cemeteries and graveyards to clear her head. When I was in better physical health and was still allowed to drive, I would often drive to the crematorium (where my Nan, Granddad, and Dad are) and just walk. There is a small lake at the bottom of the crematorium and I would frequently go down there with a book or a notepad, sit on the bench by the water and read or write, listening to the wind in the trees, and the birds, and the fish in the water. I found it so relaxing but I’ve never found someone who feels that way instead of thinking it’s just morbid.
It’s a small book but a powerful one, and I read it in a few hours, and once I finished I just had to contact her myself to express my thanks.
Books By Your Bedside 