So, here I am, back in the blogging world, on the other side of the type of reading week that I don’t ever want to experience again. It was a bit like being back at school and having to read books simply because they were set texts. I’ve probably told you this before, but it took me almost a year to read Emma when it turned up on my ‘A’ Level syllabus and to this day it is the only one of Jane Austen’s novels that I would never dream of picking up and reading for pleasure. The same is true of the books I’ve just had to speed read, along with meeting all the other commitments I already had in my diary. I’m sure they were both excellent books in their way, but they will forever be associated in my mind with the stress of having to read them to a very tight deadline. Apart from anything else, it isn’t fair on the writers or the books themselves.
With that in mind I’ve been through my diary and set up alerts to warn me when the same thing is likely to happen again so that I can get started on my reading much earlier. The next time isn’t until October, so the alerts are necessary because by then I’m likely to have forgotten how awful it’s been this month.
And now I’m going to have a very lazy reading weekend. I have the new Lindsey Davis, The Ides of April, to read, along with Jed Rubenfeld’s The Interpretation of Murder and I want to start to re-read Stuart Hill’s wonderful series for children that began with The Cry of the Icemark in preparation for the publication next month of the latest volume, The Prince of the Icemark. And I am not going to read a word because I have to. That is not what reading should be about.