I've been trying to read more this year. I'm even trying to document what I read, with the intention for it to be mindful, rather than mindless - this has lead to the slightly ridiculous #tillysreadinglog2015 hashtag. But bear with me on this, it's a nice way to look back on what you read and every now again a silly little thought of "oh, I haven't posted a book in a while" occurs and I read something else! It does also lead to a backlog of posting (I have three waiting to be posted at the moment but want to space them out a bit between the brunches and selfies and views of London that I post all the time).
The thing is, I love reading. As in when I was five and we had to write what we said mine was "Mathilda says: I LIKE TO READ." I used to carry books around with me, collect them, read them in the car, at home, in the bathroom, when eating, in class, in bed - basically wherever and now I don't.
And I don't exactly know why. It makes me a little sad to think how ferociously I devoured books and stories and how I would reread them over and over and still make time for finding new favourites. Working in a bookshop was an ideal job for me as it gave a bit of a structure (and early access) to reading new books. Also, bookclub was great - I miss that incentive too.
Now it so often feels like there isn't time.
But writers need to read and not having time is kind of bullshit - on my mini commute (plus a bit extra) at the moment I've recently finished two books within a week. I'm trying really hard to do it. And it isn't a chore, because it's one of my favourite things to do - once I am in a story, nothing else exists.
The truth is, everything is better when you are reading. Even the hot, sweaty summer tubes.
So here we are:
Remember to read.