How I fell in love with reading.. again.

I remember vividly being encouraged by my parents and school teachers that reading was this massively important thing in my life and that I would regret it if I didn’t take the chance to learn absolutely everything about the English language possible. I was the kid that would be getting perfect marks in spelling tests each and every week, never wanting to let the side down or my parents. It was something I was proud of – being good at the English language. Even to this day I’m still incredibly picky about that sort of thing, albeit not perfect in the slightest.

The strange thing about my love for books is that it disappeared along the way. I can’t decide if it was over-analysis during English GCSEs and at A-Level but at some point it became a chore to open up a page and read what was in front of me. There was no pleasure in it, no looking forward to getting to know the characters or go on their journeys, but simply a sinking feeling inside me that I had to get the hidden meaning behind every word. Like every book was some sort of puzzle that I had to solve, trying to understand what the author was truly trying to say rather than what was simply on the page.

At some point I stopped reading completely.

Over time I became more fixated on movies or television shows. I would be focused more on the visual quick fix than taking my time with a more in-depth story in a book. Long gone were the days of loving the Chronicles of Narnia and escaping into a magical world, or laughing along with Roald Dahl. For years and years – and I’m talking over a decade at least – I never made it to the end of a book because I didn’t have the attention span for it. Some people call that an excuse but that was truly the mindset I was in at that place in my life. I had no time for drawn out stories or over descriptive narrative. I put myself in the position where I was just sticking with the shows I loved and the occasional movie.

Looking back, my excuse was the biggest load of BS imaginable. I didn’t want long, drawn out stories? Yeah, because six seasons of Lost wasn’t exactly that, was it? Breaking Bad was hardly known for its speedy story telling. Lord of the Rings wasn’t over in an hour was it? No. I’d simply convinced myself that I couldn’t love reading anymore because of my shift in focus from enjoyment to analysis, and that’s something that happened for a while with movies and TV too after my university course, but I got over that a lot quicker.

It was never that I didn’t want to read because it was considered ‘geeky’ or ‘nerdy’ – believe me, I’m up there with Team Geek all the way, representing for many years now. I’m not ashamed to fly that flag whatsoever. I actually got back into reading after someone I know got a book publishing deal. Lucy Saxon released Take Back The Skies this month and I was really inspired by everything she’s overcome to release such a book, and I really wanted to review it and see what she’d come up with. Little did I know that this would open up a whole world of opportunities for me, and now I’m reviewing books left right and center. Whether it’s for kids, teens or older, it doesn’t really matter to me as I think they all have worth in their own way, especially for a younger generation where reading is so important. It’s also wonderful how big the online community for YA and other books is, and I would have loved something like that when I was younger.

So – to the books I’ve ignored all these years, I profusely apologise. I look forward to catching up with you all in years to come. Better late than never, right?

Here’s to turning the page..