I have a book fetish. Books have been my major companion and 'bestie' since childhood. As soon as I could read, I always had a book attached to me and would often come wandering out to the breakfast table, book in hand.
The amount of times I was busted reading a book under the desk at school are too numerous to mention. It all started with Enid Blyton, of course. Admittedly all the constant references to characters named 'Fanny' were a bit too much for me at times, but nevertheless the stories were so entertaining that I couldn't put them down. It never dawned on me to question how four kids and a dog could outwit hardened criminals, always remaining unscathed throughout, in all those gripping Famous Five books I read avidly. I was rather gullible and dreamy.
It has since dawned on me that a love of Enid Blyton books might not have started me off on the best path to having a firm grip on reality. A situation that was made worse by a love of such unrealistic TV shows as I Dream Of Jeannie and Bewitched. I mean, pleeease, a beautiful witch, with magical powers that mean she can go anywhere and do anything she desires, yet all she wants to do is completely forsake those powers just to be a normal housewife. RIIIIGHT. I don't think so.
Anyway, back to books. At age 10 I read 'Anne Of Green Gables' and then 'Anne' books took over from Enid as my favourites. My friend Poss will want me to mention the 'Jill' books. So I will. They were 'horsey' type books. And I say, they were frightfully good. Smashing and all that. Just like Enid Blyton. I did like the odd 'horsey' book, which is curious, because I've never particularly liked horses.
I my teens I went through a stage of reading the dreaded Mills and Boon type romances. This horrified one year 9 English teacher, who called my mother up to the school to inform her that reading such books caused young girls to believe that if they had sex and had an orgasm, they were in love!
Books are the only thing I still hoard as an adult. With other ladies it's usually a handbag or shoe fetish, with me it's a book fetish. Everyone has their thing. This is fortunate for my husband in that I'm happy with a two dollar book from an op shop, rather than a two hundred dollar handbag. Not so fortunate however, in that we often need a spare suitcase to bring home all the books I buy on our holidays.
The fact that I will never have time to read all of these books even if I live to be 137 years old is completely irrelevant. I still have to have them. Now I still read lighter stuff. I have a short attention span and three kids, so what I am going to read, War and Peace?
I do sometimes attempt classic authors like Austen, Bronte or Dickens, all of whom I love, but they require more concentration. So I mostly stick with frothy, girly 'chick lit' as they call it, or war time sagas, because I find it amusing how they always have to time for a brew in between all the dramas and bombs exploding, being a cuppa tea girl myself.
Interestingly, I've never read any Harry Potter books. And I never will. As I've mentioned before, after having three sons, I'm over it. I may also be the only person in the entire world who has never read the The Da Vinci Code. I fear it would be too confusing for my fragile brain. I can't even figure out how to put my sons Lego sets and other various toys together, so my brain might explode trying to decipher such a book. I won't be reading the Twilight series or The Hunger Games either. Ditto Fifty Shades Of Grey.
Instead, I'll just read 'Anne' again for the millionth time. Okay, trillionth....
"Mrs Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed by alders and ladies eardrops and traversed by a brook....."
Note: That opening line from Anne Of Green Gables was quoted straight off the top of my head. Truly. Yep, I really am that tragic.
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
Which books do you love?
What are you reading at the moment?
The amount of times I was busted reading a book under the desk at school are too numerous to mention. It all started with Enid Blyton, of course. Admittedly all the constant references to characters named 'Fanny' were a bit too much for me at times, but nevertheless the stories were so entertaining that I couldn't put them down. It never dawned on me to question how four kids and a dog could outwit hardened criminals, always remaining unscathed throughout, in all those gripping Famous Five books I read avidly. I was rather gullible and dreamy. It has since dawned on me that a love of Enid Blyton books might not have started me off on the best path to having a firm grip on reality. A situation that was made worse by a love of such unrealistic TV shows as I Dream Of Jeannie and Bewitched. I mean, pleeease, a beautiful witch, with magical powers that mean she can go anywhere and do anything she desires, yet all she wants to do is completely forsake those powers just to be a normal housewife. RIIIIGHT. I don't think so.
Anyway, back to books. At age 10 I read 'Anne Of Green Gables' and then 'Anne' books took over from Enid as my favourites. My friend Poss will want me to mention the 'Jill' books. So I will. They were 'horsey' type books. And I say, they were frightfully good. Smashing and all that. Just like Enid Blyton. I did like the odd 'horsey' book, which is curious, because I've never particularly liked horses.
I my teens I went through a stage of reading the dreaded Mills and Boon type romances. This horrified one year 9 English teacher, who called my mother up to the school to inform her that reading such books caused young girls to believe that if they had sex and had an orgasm, they were in love!
Books are the only thing I still hoard as an adult. With other ladies it's usually a handbag or shoe fetish, with me it's a book fetish. Everyone has their thing. This is fortunate for my husband in that I'm happy with a two dollar book from an op shop, rather than a two hundred dollar handbag. Not so fortunate however, in that we often need a spare suitcase to bring home all the books I buy on our holidays.
The fact that I will never have time to read all of these books even if I live to be 137 years old is completely irrelevant. I still have to have them. Now I still read lighter stuff. I have a short attention span and three kids, so what I am going to read, War and Peace?
I do sometimes attempt classic authors like Austen, Bronte or Dickens, all of whom I love, but they require more concentration. So I mostly stick with frothy, girly 'chick lit' as they call it, or war time sagas, because I find it amusing how they always have to time for a brew in between all the dramas and bombs exploding, being a cuppa tea girl myself.
Interestingly, I've never read any Harry Potter books. And I never will. As I've mentioned before, after having three sons, I'm over it. I may also be the only person in the entire world who has never read the The Da Vinci Code. I fear it would be too confusing for my fragile brain. I can't even figure out how to put my sons Lego sets and other various toys together, so my brain might explode trying to decipher such a book. I won't be reading the Twilight series or The Hunger Games either. Ditto Fifty Shades Of Grey.
Instead, I'll just read 'Anne' again for the millionth time. Okay, trillionth....
"Mrs Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed by alders and ladies eardrops and traversed by a brook....."
Note: That opening line from Anne Of Green Gables was quoted straight off the top of my head. Truly. Yep, I really am that tragic.
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
Which books do you love?
What are you reading at the moment?
