Books, books, books

One of my very favourite things to do is visit a bookshop, whether newly discovered or one that I return to time and again. I can spend hours in any given one, browsing the shelves and making new delightful discoveries along the way. I never leave empty-handed - books are my guilty pleasure after all - and I can’t wait to dive into that very first chapter.

I have been like this for as long as I can remember. Even as a child, I would always gravitate toward the book section in a department store when out shopping with my mum; dragging her by the hand, asking if I could choose something to read. I loved the feeling of having a new book in my hands, those crisp pages, not a dog-ear in sight. And when other children might have spent time playing in their local park, I was always in the library. 

Nowadays, I read ebooks (though admittedly a late convert to them) as likely as I am to read physical ones. But I still like to buy novels. I like to feel them in my hands, see them on my bookshop. There are still so many classics to read -  Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe; The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro; and The Time Machine by H.G Wells - to name a few on my list. 

Beautiful covers draw me in. I am easily seduced and appearance is everything: a stunning illustration, a striking photograph, a unique image. If I am drawn to the front and equally engaged by the blurb at the back, I am in. The book is coming home with me. 

To me, that is the beauty of the bookshop experience - discovering the new. There are hundreds, if not thousands of authors out there whose books I have yet still to meet. 

At the start of the year, I bought six novels. Two of them: ‘Tell Me Everything’ (Elizabeth Strout) and ‘The Position of Spoons’  (Deborah Levy) are the latest releases from two of my favourite authors. One is by an writer I am already familiar with (‘Giovanni’s Room’ by James Baldwin) though I can’t quite believe it’s taken me this long to finally get round to his work. The remaining three - ‘Liars,’ ‘The Safekeep’ and ‘The Party’ are by authors completely unknown to me. I am looking forward to reading them all. 

And these long dark evenings are the perfect setting to escape into another world from the comfort of my sofa. Happy reading all.