Writing a novel based on his experiences in Africa allowed the author to reframe his diagnosis of Parkinson's disease. //

My condition has progressed, and I've lost much of my coordination. I had to stop playing racquetball for fear of crashing into the wall. My golf game disintegrated because my hands jerked when I was putting. I continued to walk in the forest with my fox terrier, Molly, but over time my gait became stiff. When I try to walk around the house, my body freezes up and I struggle to get started. Once I do get moving, I am awkward and often bump into furniture.

But my biggest concern is mental. I know the brain is like a muscle: Use it or lose it. I was determined to use it, but I lacked a purpose. It was my wife who suggested I write a novel. During my tenure at the college, I had written some scholarly pieces and even memoirs, but I had never attempted fiction.

Contemplating the idea, I recalled some of my adventures in Africa—hiking to Lake Malawi, wrestling with pythons, living with traditional Murle people in Sudan—and thought I could work them into the book. I decided to set the story in Tanzania and center it on a character with Parkinson's disease. In the novel Karl Lundberg returns to Africa, where he shifts to a plant-based diet, exercises in the open air, interacts with local people, and encounters wildlife—and gradually feels his despair lift.

The lions become a stand-in for his disease, always lurking, always a threat, but also beautiful and impressive in how they inspire him to live fully and joyfully despite the fear and uncertainty of an incurable condition.

Writing the novel encouraged me in a similar way. I've learned to embrace and adjust to the changes brought on by Parkinson's disease instead of fighting them and to be grateful for each day and for the robust memories of my time in Africa.