I’ve only read a handful of books over the past three months; fatigue from my (too) long commute set in and had me reaching for the crossword or a copy of Time Out instead of a book, and a string of busy weekends left me with few opportunities to re-stock at the local library. That said, those I did find time to read were well worth the brainpower – and the three titles below are my top picks. If you’ve got any recommendations, I’d love to hear them in the comments. Merry Christmas one and all, and until next year!
Who doesn’t love an excuse to reminisce over trips from years (or months) gone by? I’ve not done one of these tags for yonks, and in the weeks since Rebecca from Rebecca Goes Rendezvous tagged me in this one I’ve been mulling over my responses, leafing through photos and pondering future escapes. Let’s crack on!
Earlier this summer, one of my colleagues had the inspired idea of setting up an informal book club. Three Doodle polls later and we’ve read Normal People (did the economical verging on unimaginative prose grate on anyone else?) Educated (which I loved; more below) and are soon to discuss My Year of Rest and Relaxation (which I wasn’t overly keen on, but am still weighing up). I’ve not enjoyed every book, but I have enjoyed reading outside my crime and memoir comfort zone. If anyone has any book club recommendations, I’m all ears!
When I last penned an update, I wasn’t sure how the past few months would pan out. As it turns out, they’ve been chock-full with local goings-on and adventures further afield. We spent Easter exploring Dartmoor National Park, and getting somewhat scorched in the process (slight understatement – I returned to work looking like a tomato). Six weeks later, we were up in the Yorkshire Dales, soaked to the skin in a downpour. (Needless to say, a treacle tart from Booths lifted our spirits immeasurably!) We’ve ticked a few more things off our East Anglia to-visit list over the past few months, with a day trip to Saffron Walden (a quaint little town full of colourful half-timbered buildings), an afternoon picking strawberries at Bury Lane Farm Shop, and a cycle ride to Hot Numbers’ new(ish) roastery, near Shepreth.
A couple of weeks back, I turned twenty-five; a quarter of a century, another year gone in what feels like the blink of an eye. Time waits for no (wo)man, but I’m pretty happy with how things have turned out so far: I have friends and family who are there for me no matter what; I’ve worked abroad – twice; and I’ve got a job I enjoy with a steady income. I’m not so keen on living in Cambridge, for a number of reasons, but that’s about the extent of my woes.
I’ve enjoyed reading others’ musings on lessons learnt over the years, so I figured I’d mark the occasion with a list of my own. Here are twenty five lessons I’ve learnt over the past twenty five years.
On my trains, there’s a fairly even split of bookworms and people who treat their commute as an extension of their working day. I can’t help but sneak a glance at others’ books. What are they reading? Why are they reading it? What made them pick Reservoir 13, Nox or Sapiens? (I haven’t read any of them. Should I?) Was it the eye-catching cover design, or the pithy blurb? Was it the Goodreads rating, or a friend’s recommendation? Or plain old FOMO?
When people – be they family, friends or otherwise – ask me what I do, I never quite know where to start. Assistant Editor is the step between Editorial Assistant and Commissioning Editor; in a nutshell, it involves working more closely with typescripts and dipping my toes into commissioning, alongside general administrative tasks which enable the lists to run smoothly. Here’s a snapshot of how I spend my days . . .
If the book you’re reading isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, do you a) abandon ship – life’s too short for sub-par books, or b) plough on regardless – it might get better, after all? Until relatively recently, I couldn’t bear the thought of ditching a book partway through; I’ve slowly come to accept that if a book isn’t ticking all the boxes for me, it’s fine to put it down, to return it to the library half-read. But, as ever, the latest instalment in this series isn’t about the books that didn’t float my boat: it’s about those that did.
Give or take a day, I’ve now been living in Cambridge for eighteen months. That might not sound like a long time, but it’s the longest I’ve lived at one address for quite some time (six years, five months and twenty-two days, to be precise). Since my last update on life ‘Down South’, I’ve ventured to Portugal, Germany and France. Closer to home, I’ve munched my way through a few more of Cambridge’s eateries (Pint Shop, Bread & Meat and Urban Larder are spots I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend), caught up with friends and family and squeezed in a few country walks.
World Book Day, a day dedicated to one of my favourite pastimes, is almost upon us. Today, I’m sharing some of my childhood favourites, penned by the likes of Roald Dahl, Dr. Seuss and Francesca Simon. These are the books I remember fondly; the books that captured my imagination and made me the bookworm I am today.