In the words of Jennifer Worth “Why did I ever start this? I must have been mad”
I know nothing about writing book reviews, or about dissecting books, chapters and their paragraphs apart to find the clever hidden meanings concealed between the commas. I am not a famous person, I am not a professional in the book industry with something insightful or exciting to say – I am Becky, and I read books.
Presumably an introductory blog post is supposed to say something intriguing, hinting at deep and glorious wisdom lurking just under the surface – read on my children and learn at the lap of the book guru that is me.
I’m probably not supposed to open with ignorance and then ramble on further to persuade you to go elsewhere for someone who knows what they’re talking about. I suspect that I’m going about this slightly wrong actually.
Books are what I do for me – they are my teachers, my travelling companions and my buddy to catch up with over a hot drink after a long day. They excite me, energise me, console me and destroy me in ruthless and glorious measures. To read is to love, to live and to ponder all from the comfort of your sofa/ car/ the staff room corner seat. So while I know nothing (yet) about writing proper book reviews, I do know a little about what I think about books, and I think I would like to share some of that part of my life with you.
I must be mad.
But ultimately I’m excited, and that’s what I need.
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