I adore reading, always have. I vividly remember (probably aged around 3) sitting on my dad's lap looking at the newspaper while he read it, and how frustrating it was to have to ask him to tell me what it said. I must have resolved to learn to read because quite soon after that, in my memory, I could, and by the time I went to school I was definitely a fluent reader.
I read voraciously and indiscriminately throughout school: second-hand Enid Blytons, the business section of The Times, my dad's 1940s original Wisden Almanacks, the ingredients on the cornflakes packet at breakfast, shampoo bottles and toothpaste tubes when sat on the loo... I read by day, and I read by night. I used to have my bedroom door open claiming I was scared of the dark but really I just wanted to allow the light in so I could read when I was supposed to be asleep.
I still read now. I am nowhere near as prolific as I was, and certainly not as prolific as one of my best university friends (henceforth known as Flossie) who seems to read about 100 books a year even with 3 kids under 10. But I read, and I take great pleasure in deciding what my next read will be. I read Booker shortlists and I read airport trash. I read novels and I read biographies. I read The Economist and Heat. The comfort reads I return to are usually by Ian Rankin and I felt very sad last night when I found out that J.G.Ballard had died.
So that's me. Now for Leo...
I read voraciously and indiscriminately throughout school: second-hand Enid Blytons, the business section of The Times, my dad's 1940s original Wisden Almanacks, the ingredients on the cornflakes packet at breakfast, shampoo bottles and toothpaste tubes when sat on the loo... I read by day, and I read by night. I used to have my bedroom door open claiming I was scared of the dark but really I just wanted to allow the light in so I could read when I was supposed to be asleep.
I still read now. I am nowhere near as prolific as I was, and certainly not as prolific as one of my best university friends (henceforth known as Flossie) who seems to read about 100 books a year even with 3 kids under 10. But I read, and I take great pleasure in deciding what my next read will be. I read Booker shortlists and I read airport trash. I read novels and I read biographies. I read The Economist and Heat. The comfort reads I return to are usually by Ian Rankin and I felt very sad last night when I found out that J.G.Ballard had died.
So that's me. Now for Leo...
[N.B. I started this post on Saturday but finished it after I'd heard J.G.Ballard had died: I am many things, but a time-traveller I am not]
hurrah!
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