Reading is something I enjoy more than anything else. Nothing beats having a book that I can’t wait to get back to, where the characters seem to follow me about my day, where one chapter slips into the next and the pages almost turn themselves. And there is always a little sadness at the end of those kind of books because following the story has become a form of obsession and when it is done it leaves a gap. No ending will ever be good enough for those books. And so when I have a book like that I have to be disciplined. I have to stop myself reading into the small hours of the morning to the detriment of the following day. Worse still, reading so much in one go that I end up doubling back the next time I pick it up.
So why is it, then, that this year I have only read two books? Two! I promised myself that next year I will read more, but being completely honest with myself this is a resolution I have made for the past few years. I am hoping that by going public and upping the ante I will finally see this New Year’s resolution through: fifty-two books in a year.
If you stumble across my blog and you are the kind of person who regularly presses a book into someone’s hand with pure evangelism, or even if you wander here by accident and have only enjoyed one book in your whole life, before you stroll away please suggest a book. I hope to build a poll and commit myself to reading the most popular suggestions. This way, not only will I read more but widely too.