I was so shocked that there are some people in the world who don’t read for pleasure that for a time I was sure it was a myth much like# Loch Ness or #Bigfoot. I mean, how could people not realise what they were missing?
So much of my childhood was spent reading and it was much more than a simple pleasure, #books could be a refuge, a secret door, where you learnt lessons and how it might be to walk in another’s shoes. They were #adventures I couldn’t have first hand and fears that I could put down if it became too much.
As an adult I now realise the extent to which books have impacted my# vocabulary, my imagination and my urge to #write, and it is something I am forever grateful for. For those who aren’t readers, I’m sure they have found their own refuges, like #gardening or #sport and that these outlets fulfill them satisfactorily, yet I still can’t help that bout of sympathy for those who say they aren’t really into reading. One such person is my dad who will generalise the entire book world as ‘boring’ and scorn the amount I own at every opportunity, but coming from a man whose outlet is #fishing, I find it difficult to be too offended.