books a million
when i was in australia, i was a reading machine. i felt like reading, i did lots of reading, i had fun with reading. i was all about reading and it was all good (except for the eye-popping expense of books over there, that is).
but in the last month, i’ve read just two teeny books and tried to read a further nine — all of which now have sad little bookmarks hanging out of them somewhere between pages 10 and 93, like flattened, depressed dogs. i just don’t seem to have any reading mojo. i can’t concentrate, my mind is racing too much. tv is better, less demanding and easier to engage with, and my new addiction is buying box sets. maybe this is the start of my TV years… shame about that english degree i registered for, huh?
but regardless of my ability to read books, i still seem able to write about them (ha, you knew a plug was coming, didn’t you?) and so have done so. again.
i’m promoting the burning of books (ooh!) on the guardian blog today (big thanks to keris and helen for the background info on this — ha ha — hot topic) and i’m also recommending some thrillers and offbeat reads for handbag (which was such fun, i have to say), but the whole books special is well worth a look, even the bits i didn’t write!
take a look… and read one for me, would you? thanks.