Is it too late in the month to still be doing these 2018 round-up posts? Well, tough, because I’m doing one anyway, even if I am late to the game.
Last year started with the ambitious desire to read 26 books by December 31st. A book a fortnight, it’ll be a doddle! I thought. Sure, I was in the middle of a Master’s degree, but seeing as I was studying Creative Writing, which also involves a lot of reading, I thought it wouldn’t be too much trouble.
Cue: lots of travel and socialising, new job with new responsibilities, racing to finish my dissertation, and a few personal crises thrown in for good measure. By November, around 17 books in, I realised that I would not get to my goal of 26 books, and sheepishly lowered my target on Goodreads. I was sad to do it, but knew I had to be realistic. And I was right to do so, seeing as I finished the twentieth and final book in my reading challenge by the skin of my teeth on New Year’s Eve.
As is the tradition, I thought I would share with you some highlights.
Okay, I must confess: I may have slightly misled you with a the title. Clickbaited, you could say, in order to entice you into what I have to say. However, it’s a half-truth, and I want to explain why. A fair warning though: it’s about to get super ranty up in here.
It’s not so much that I hate women’s fiction, or ‘chick lit’ as it’s colloquially nicknamed. I have no problem with female-led, romance-driven stories — just that they’ve been given this name that is so looked down upon. ‘Chick lit’ is seen as fluffy and frivolous, not worthy of praise or merit just because its stories predominantly focus on women and their ‘womanly’ problems.
If you’ve been on my blog for a while, you’ll remember a post I did at the start of last year where I wrote about the books that had the greatest impact on me in 2016. Well, in a shocking turn of events, I’m gonna share with you some of my tops reads of 2017. How exciting!
You may have noticed that it’s been rather quiet around these parts, which is mainly attributed to me starting uni. I’m having a great time, learning a lot, but still slightly struggling with that work/life/uni/blog balance. This is a process though, a journey, and with a couple of events coming up and post ideas up my sleeve, hopefully I’ll be more active on here soon.
Part of doing a Creative Writing degree involves — surprise surprise — a lot of reading. Some for my course, but mostly recreational to get the creative juices flowing. As a result, I have been buying a lot more books than usual in the past month or so. In fact, I have purchased 11 books in the past 7 weeks alone. Holy moly! But I love that I now have an excuse to make more time for reading — and I’d love to share with you some of the absolute gems I’ve been accumulating.
A little while ago, I did a post called Books That Affected Me Most in 2016. In similar vein, I thought I would talk about the books that had a profound affect on me in my teens, and tell you lovely readers about it. Because, honestly, I think about some of these books on an almost daily basis, so y’know, they must be good. (But taste is subjective and all that.)
So here are the books I’ve loved and lost — in the literal sense, I sadly no longer own physical copies of these books, which I need to rectify posthence. And, the books that contributed greatly to my love of the written word and dreams of becoming an author.