But I Smile Anyway…

Another little blast from the archive past! Excuse me while I dive into my kindle…!

Reading a recent reblog by my favourite ape, Chris, made me think… (Yes, really! I do tend to think sometimes😜!)

The original post, from the blog Kawanee’s Korner, can be found here.

It was a quote about why I love to read…

It made me think of a few occasions when I wasn’t sure whether my love of books was normal…

From when I can recall, in my childhood, books were always an integral part of my upbringing. Whether it was stories that my mother read to us, or the books that I loved to read, to the piles of books by my mother’s bedside, and the shelves chock full of various titles, from fiction to non fiction, in the study.

I hated to be without a book. We would embark on many long car journeys, to and from the South, visiting various family members, and attending functions, and I would more or less always have a book with me, to read in the car.

It was devastating when I started to suffer headaches whilst reading on the move… all those wasted hours where I could be submerged in the latest story of choice! Trains were ok, so were planes, but car or bus journeys, a total no-no. My mum subscribed to some story magazines where you got the audio version on tape alongside a magazine with the stories. So at least I was able to listen to stories as we travelled.  But it wasn’t the same as reading whatever book I was consuming at the time.

Still, I carried on reading, whenever I could. From the favourite childhood authors, to the soft romances by Danielle Steele, as that was what my mum had at home. She also loves to read wartime family sagas, so I devoured them too.  As I hit my teens, I wanted something more meaty.  I am not a crime or thriller fan, and neither is my mother, so there was nothing like that for me to read, but the Flowers In The Attic series were sat on a high up shelf.

The series, by Virginia Andrews, got me hooked.  I read them all, and probably several times over.  Mum had other books by the author too, and so I slowly devoured them all, and as new ones were published, we would buy them, and I would read and read and read…

As I grew older, I still had a social life, but it wasn’t the be all and end all for me, not being in a pub or club on a Friday or Saturday, at 16, like it as for my classmates.  I was either with family, or happily tucked up with my favourite book. I didn’t know many others my age who loved to read like I did… perhaps I was the bookwormy geek that deserved to be the School Librarian!

Oh I loved that title!  I used to spend lunchtimes in the library, sorting out books, recommending titles for the younger girls in the school. The actual school librarian was a tiny, and I mean tiny, little Chinese lady, and I feel awful that I have forgotten her name! She was a little 4 foot book whirlwind, and she was the gentlest of souls, not like the stuffy librarians you see portrayed in films and programmes generally.

Anyway, I am letting myself get carried away with my memories!

Now, when you finish your exams, say your A-levels, that is something to celebrate! What do you do? Go out for a meal, drinks, that sort of thing, right?

Not for me! The year I was doing my A-Levels, there was a new book being released. A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth.

It was a huge tomb of a book, the longest book to be written in the English language, in one volume, at the time. It was nearly 1500 pages long! A very involved family saga based around an Indian family. I was desperate to read it! My mum bought the book, and held it like a carrot, dangling it in front of me, telling me that it would be my treat once my exams were over. I was so motivated! Seriously! Sad am I?

There are probably those who would actually think so, but for me it was such a great thing to work towards!  The exams finished, and I was given the book to read… and boy did I read!!

My Pops actually got a little worried. I was holed up in my room, in my bed for about a week, not wanting to go anywhere. He, being the concerned father, asked my mum if I was ill. “No dear, your daughter is just reading…”

And I was. I finished that 1500 pages over a week. I was determined to do this.  For me it was a like a week away, getting right into the story. My mum had said that she would wait for me to finish before she read it, she could take months to read a book compared to me and the lengthy sittings of reading that I could undertake, being a single, young girl, with no other responsibilities! (I’m pretty sure she still hasn’t read it! It’s only 22 years later!)

Can I just slip in here, as I read some facts about A Suitable Boy on Wikipedia, I found out there is a sequel coming next year! Called A Suitable Girl… I know what I will have on pre order!

Anyway, as I went to university, books, of the reading for pleasure variety, took a took a backseat, as I got involved with student life properly.  See, I wasn’t the geek that I had always thought I was!  But you know, they were never far away. It might have taken me a tad longer to finish a book, but I still read, intermittently.

And over the years, I’ve carried on reading, sometimes I finish books within a week, sometimes it takes longer, but there is always a book near by, be it a physical book, or my Kindle, or even the Kindle app on my phone, I know I can read almost anywhere.

As the original quote that inspired this post said, I love that feeling of getting swept away into this ‘other’ world, this whole parallel universe where the story I am reading, is taking place. I almost feel a sense of loss when a book I have particularly enjoyed finishes.

So, be it chick lit or biographies, historical romances or family sagas, I love to read them, I always shall, and I don’t care if I am a nerd for loving books!