Book lovers day

So Monday was #Nationalbookloversday and it was all over twitter so it must be legit. I’m not reading anything right now but I am a book lover, not a fighter. I don’t fight with books, I let them take me, clothing optional.
I’ve read loads of books, obviously, since I’m mid-30s, maybe on the cusp of mid-late, but there are a few that stick out in my mind. Many of them are more recent reads as I’m apparently losing my mind but that doesn’t make them any less awesome:


so many books, so little time

Night Film by Marisha Pessl was riveting. So excited about reading Special Topics in Calamity Physics next!
The Stand by the grand Master Stephen King. I’ve read it about ten times and was thinking the other day that I need to get into it again, but it’s in poor condition and I don’t actually know where it is, sad emoji. Also most of the other SK books, especially The Dead Zone, which I always get mixed up with The Dark Half.
LOTR are wonderful, but I couldn’t get into The Hobbit and I probably wouldn’t read them again unless I was stranded somewhere.
The Time-Traveller’s Wife.
Most Jane Austen novels, obvs. And Brontes.
The Mayfair Witches series by Anne Rice.
A Discovery Of Witches and etc by Deborah Harkness loved loved loved.
On the other hand, I feel like I’m cheating on a book if I don’t finish it, and honestly there must be less than five books that I’ve put away unfinished. I’ve finished more books that I thought were rubbish than books I’ve stopped reading. Not finishing a book is like not putting the shopping trolley away properly, or a bunch of other bullshit things I do that are just the right thing to do that neither Husband nor I can think of right now, even though he can get so pissy because I’m doing them.
I’ve really enjoyed reading everything recently. That probably means I’m no critic but it also means I’m an optimist, or naive as shit. Whatevs.
Enjoy reading bitches.

A Chip Off The Old Block

If I could be in any doubt that my first born is, in fact, born of me, if his eyes and fine bone structure gave me any room for doubt, his lack of follow through would banish it from my mind. I am a notorious ideas man, but I find myself disinclined to complete these fabulous ideas. It’s unhelpful and sometimes embarrassing.
7yo started on a Readathon because I came up with the awesome idea and he decided he wanted $40. $40 you say, that’s what I said, but we settled on 400 books in 40 days. He was excited but started poorly, and now, 20 days later, he has decided he really wants that money after all. So yesterday he read 33 books! This from the boy who refused to try to read and had to be bribed with all and sundry and would still cry about it.
But that is also typical of me – slacking off until the end and then giving whatever the task is one last attempt the week before it is due.
With 20 days to go, 7yo may still yet find plenty more to do besides read 20 books a day, and then be saddled with reading 49 books in 5 days, but today he is still keen, and is ahead of his daily goal.
I should take his example and read my own book. It is dull and tedious and I moan and complain every time I sit down to it. Husband moans and complains about my complaints and tells me to put it away already, but as much as I don’t like it, I can’t bear to stop reading a book before the end, and I do want to know whodunnit. As with 7yo’s $40, I will be rewarded at the end by starting on The Book of Life by Deborah Harkness, so I should “just quit (my) whining and get on with it”. August 30 is outlined in red on the calendar as 7yo’s deadline for his task, and I should conside it mine as well because I know that when school starts back, there will be bigger things to take up our precious time, like fighting about getting ready for school and less time for fighting about things that we love.