As today is World Book Day, it seems fitting to dedicate my blog to that most humble of creature…the book.
Books have been by my side my whole life. Enid Blyton took me through my early years, quickly followed by Mills and Boon who slid me gently into my middle teens. Over the years my tastes have changed, but my reading habits haven’t. I always read before I go to bed. Even if it’s only five minutes. I always read on the train, on the plane, on the beach. When I have a ‘good’ book on the go, I read when I’m cleaning my teeth, making the tea. I sneak a quick peek in when I should be working. I become obsessed with getting to the end of that chapter. And then the next.
Reading taught me about sex, about love, about history, about human frailty. It has made me laugh and made me cry. It has soothed when I’m upset and taken my mind off things when I’m worried. It has been a constant companion through good times and bad. It has provided joy and escapism.
More than anything, reading has inspired me. I wouldn’t have written books of my own, were it not for my love of reading.
So this is a tribute to everyone involved in the book industry. To the authors, who pour part of themselves in every book they write. To the publishers, who often go out on a limb to bring those books to us. To the readers, without whom the first two wouldn’t exist.
I end with a photo from my attic. These are books I’ve read, and read again. Books I couldn’t bear to part with (oh and I’ve snuck a couple of my own in there, too!).
Thank goodness for ebooks.