Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve devoured books. I don’t ever remember my mother reading to me (although I’m sure she did), I only remember hiding under the covers with a torch and reading long after I should have been asleep.
I love to read. One of the most distressing things that happened when my husband died, was I could no longer read. I seemed to have lost the ability to concentrate, to hold a particular thought in my head long enough to connect another to it. Fortunately, the skill returned about a year later.
The first gift my lover bought me was a book. You can see what title he chose here.
I still read every night before I go to sleep. I keep going until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. It’s the only way to turn off the storm of thoughts in my head. Well, maybe not the only way, and maybe I don’t read every night — sometimes I’m too shagged (literally).
I am thankful that I enjoy reading, and that books continue to open up a world of truth and fantasy that I wouldn’t encounter anywhere else.
Even now, I check the back of the wardrobe to make sure it isn’t snowing in there …
Do you love to read?
What was your favourite book from your childhood?
Katie, get hold of a copy of ‘Burial rites’. I’m still reeling from finishing it last night.
Linda
Hannah Kent has written the introduction to the Anthology I’m in so I’m going to meet her at the launch at the Writers’ Festival. I’m very excited! (and I MUST read the book).