Working as I am at present has caused me to reflect and as such, consider why it is that I love reading.

I’ve always been a reader. I can remember as a young reader, when I was so engrossed in my books, my older sister would throw things at me to get my attention – thankfully there were no broken bones (or books!).  As I got older, reading was just something I always did, it being perfectly natural to pick up a book, sit and read for hours. It was definitely an escape for me – not that I had an unhappy childhood; I just had a massively vivid imagination and would open the pages of a new book with joy ready for the next adventure to begin, escaping the world of school, homework and the growing pains of being a teenager.

So maybe that’s what made me fall in love with reading – the ability to transport myself to other worlds, other times and connect with new ‘people’ even if they were only between the pages of a book. My father definitely influenced my reading; giving me a ‘library’ of brand new books; ‘classic’ reads which I loved because they were beautiful leather bound books – not because I actually wanted to read them at the time! Beau Gueste, Lorna Doone, Uncle Tom’s Cabin didn’t really appeal to me – I was more into Sweet Valley High which I suppose reflected my blooming interests in all things romance and the trials & tribulations of friendships!  But the thing was, I loved those actual, physical books, the idea of all those words inside, knowing these particular ‘classics’ perhaps reflected a certain intelligence and knowledge, which even though I hadn’t read yet, it was there. Just waiting. Continue reading →