I feel so lucky that I love reading so much. I’m trying to install a love of books in my son. He might not be old enough to read yet, but he already enjoys the pictures. And what are words in a book but pictures waiting for your mind to form?
Libraries, bookshops, particularly secondhand ones… there’s something magical about them. So much there simply waiting to be discovered. Interpreted. All hidden away, dormant. Until that dusty cover is opened.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-ebooks. Anything that gets people reading is great by me. I’ve even been known to enjoy well-written shampoo bottle copy before. (Aussie Haircare if you must know.)
But what could be better than something you can enjoy anywhere (in whatever format) and that has the potential to take you anywhere. Stretched out in the sunshine or curled up with a cuppa, there’s little can beat getting stuck into a great book.
There are the ones you read in one sitting, others that are a worthwhile struggle, some that you would rather read by torchlight under the covers than abandon for a few hours.
Sorry – but I’m going to have to go now. I need to get a few chapters in before sleep beckons (and then attacks).