Bookish Thoughts

I went on holiday a few weeks ago. Within the first couple of days, I had already devoured three books. I felt like I was trying to fill up on them.

Because, back in the real world, I don't seem to read anymore. I can't pretend I don't have time. The indecent amount of time I spend on iPlayer hovers guiltily in my History. Me and books seem to have just fallen out of sync. We don't fit properly anymore.

I used to need to read. I wrote this a book blog, did the occasional review and regularly missed my bus stop, wrapped up in a story I couldn't put down.

But I never realised how disciplined you have to be. And how easy it is to turn your grey matter to mush by passing over your TO READ pile and going straight for the remote. It might be easier to flick on another episode of whateverthehellcrapison but does that make it better for you?

Not this week. I'm going to avoid the goggle box and work on my relationship with the written word. It's been one-sided for too long.

{I'll be reading Booker Prize winner, The Finkler Question. I'd love to hear your thoughts}