I have always love reading. Some of my fondest memories as a child are being tucked up on my Poppa’s lap, on the weekends I spent with my Dad, listening to him read one of the many favourite Roald Dahl books.
This love of reading grew during the six month’s I spent at boarding school as a teen, my safe place were I could escape from being the new girl and missing home. Immersing myself in the worlds of the books, imagining myself as the protagonist, living many lives through those pages.
Books have always been a big part of my life, reading has been a great coping strategy through many difficult times. Locking myself away in a room and diving into a distant land, whether its real or fictional, is one of the ways I deal with the many stresses modern life can throw at us.
Alongside my love of reading came a desire to write. This passion was something I didn’t nurture. Never really imagining I’d be good at it so I pushed it back and tried to forget it.
Yet, this desire kept nagging at me, no matter what I tried to do.
So much so that in 2014 I enrolled on a creative writing and journalism degree course, giving in and allowing these feelings a creative outlet in both forms.
I have so many ideas, notebooks full of ideas for fiction and non-fiction, I just need more hours in the day to get to them.
Another of the reason for slow living, carving out time to write and read as these are what make my soul sing and my heart breath.
Do you love books?