November 22nd 2020
Today I realised that I need to update my bookcase. There’s now officially not a single fiction book it which I have not read, or seen the film adaptation of — thus ruining my reading experience before it’s even begun.
I decided this evening that I’d had enough of looking at screens. I spend my work week on a computer, and then go straight to my own computer to watch Netflix or football or whatever at the weekend and in the evenings. It’s lockdown, okay, there’s nothing else to do.
And so my eyes were hurting, and I had a bit of a headache, so I wanted to read a book. But that’s when I discovered that I’m basically out of books. I was stretching the truth earlier when I said there’s not a single book I’ve not read. There are some John Grisham and Terry Pratchet ones that I own, but have no intention of reading. There’s also the entire Lord of the Rings collection that I really should read but daunts me.
And so I found myself uninspired by my life’s library. I do own a Kindle, so I could have chosen to buy almost literally any book to read, but A) that’s too much like looking at a screen, and B) Bezos, innit.
In the end, the book I started was A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby. I’ve already seen the film, though. Which is annoying.
That said, I’m enjoying the book. More so because it gave me the opportunity to be engrossed in something for a little while. Hornby is really good at writing conversations that flow like real conversations do. With sidenotes and mumbles and repetition and talking over each other.
It’s good. It’s fun. It’s a bit depressing.
Until tomorrow, I think the film had Pierce Brosnan in it.