I guess I could say I have always been in love with books. It started before I can remember remembering things, when my mother used to read to my potty perched butt, and I’d never want her to stop. When I was a little older we’d go on outings and shopping trips, and she would dangle the prospect of a treat at the end of every trip as a reward for good behaviour. I would always set my eyes on the prize I coveted most: a new book. When I was small, I used to dream about adding a new Mr Men book to my collection every time we left the house. It wasn’t just the stories, though, engrossing as they were. As all book lovers probably know, it was the urge to have that new fresh book ready to add to my collection. I would line them all up on my shelf (after reading each one for the hundredth time of course) and feel contentment at seeing my collection build up. There was something comforting about seeing all the books I’d read lined up on my little shelves; it was like a map showing my imagination’s journey through all the different world’s I’d visited….well….at that point the only world I had really frequented was Roger Hargreaves’ colourful land of eccentrics and misfits, but you get the idea.
Of course, when Mr Men failed to engage me intellectually (see above RE reading hundreds of times) I began to move on to more lengthy works. Over the years my tastes ranged from twee, to dark, to mysterious, to absurd, to everything Jacqueline Wilson ever wrote. I cannot count the amount of hours I spent tilting my book towards the tiny amount of light shining from above my bedroom door, long after my parents had sent me to bed. I can’t say there has been a common theme in the books I’ve chosen to read; in fact being incredibly indecisive I’ve often struggled to know what to choose. There are so many, right? And while part of me wants to read them ALL, another part of me is scared of missing out on something incredible in favour of reading something sleep-inducing.
That’s really the reason I wanted to start a blog. I find it so difficult to know what to read, and know who to go to for recommendations. We can all look at the papers and online sources and see what paid reviewers think is the current “life changing read”, or “not worth the paper it’s digitally printed on”, but what do people like me think? Just a normal (I like to pretend), average (probably less than) person, who tries to read as many books inbetween working and volunteering and running the house as she can? I want to share those books that are worth a sneaky secret 5 minute read in-between getting ready and rushing out the door for work. I want people to know which books have been storing their rich, juicy stories in the bags under my eyes after I’ve stayed up reading so late that all the world has gone to sleep, unable put it down until I’ve read “just one more chapter” (don’t judge, we’ve all been there).
And so this is what you can expect: a randomly selected array of reviews and thoughts on a random selection of books that have hijacked my imagination. I can’t promise that all the books I read will be perfect for you, but I can promise I will be honest and thoughtful and sometimes quite possibly overly enthusiastic about my surreptitious selections. I hope you enjoy reading them, and this, and I really hope you share your thoughts with me, and maybe your recommendations too. We’re all in this together, right?