give @p written_book[written_book_content={title:"Tales of the White Coat",author:"Phineas the cleric",pages:['"The morning sun, dappled through the leaves of the giant oak, rouses me from my slumber. I stretch, the stiffness of a long night spent on a hay bale easing. Unlike the farmer, who awakens with the first glow of dawn, I allow myself a little more rest."','["After all, emergencies are rare in our peaceful village.","\\nMy name is Phineas, and my white coat, a stark contrast to the brown robes of the farmers and the green tunics of the fletchers, identifies me as the village cleric."]','["My job isn\'t as physically demanding as theirs, but it holds a different kind of weight.","\\nI am the keeper of potions, the healer of wounds, the provider of strength – a pillar, albeit a quieter one, of our community."]','"Today starts like any other. I head to my humble shop, a quaint building stocked with glass vials and bubbling cauldrons. My brewing stand hums contentedly, a gentle reminder of the night\'s work – a batch of healing potions simmered to perfection."','"The first customer arrives shortly after sunrise. It\'s Clara, the baker, her face etched with worry. Her son, Thomas, scraped his knee while playing near the quarry. A quick application of a healing potion, a reassuring pat on the head, and Thomas is off,"','["a grin plastered on his freckled face. Clara offers me a warm loaf of bread in gratitude, a sweet start to the day.","\\nThe rest of the morning is a steady stream of villagers. John, the blacksmith, needs a potion of strength for a particularly stubborn piece of iron."]','"Emily, the librarian, seeks a potion of night vision for her late-night reading sessions. I barter with each, exchanging my concoctions for emeralds, the lifeblood of our village economy."','"As midday approaches, the familiar clinking of armor announces the arrival of Steve, our resident adventurer. He\'s a peculiar fellow, always venturing out into the wilderness, returning with tales of monsters and strange lands. "','["Today, he looks worse for wear – a nasty burn on his arm and a haunted look in his eyes.","\\nI brew a swiftness potion to counter the lingering effects of spider venom, then a potion of weakness to calm his racing heart."]','"As he regales me with his encounter with a fiery blaze, I listen patiently. Steve brings news from the outside world, a reminder of the dangers that lurk beyond our peaceful village walls."','"The afternoon fades into a symphony of clinking tools and happy chatter. I tend to minor ailments – a bee sting here, a sunburn there – all the while keeping an ear out for any sign of a more serious situation."','"As dusk settles, casting long shadows across the village, I finally allow myself a moment of respite. Sitting on my stoop, I watch the villagers gather around the central well, sharing stories and laughter. A sense of calm washes over me. Today, like every other day,"','["I played my part.","\\nThe night holds the promise of a new batch of potions, each one a tiny vial of hope and resilience. For in a world filled with bumps and bruises, both literal and metaphorical, a cleric\'s work is never truly done. But that\'s alright."]','["As long as our village thrives, and the laughter of children fills the air, I know I\'m exactly where I need to be.","\\nThis is just one chapter in the ongoing tale of Phineas, the village cleric."]','"Each day brings new challenges, new stories, and a renewed sense of purpose. For in the quiet hum of my brewing stand, and the grateful smiles of my neighbors, lies the magic of a life well-lived."']}] 1