Good reads

I started reading very young.  My mother was a literature teacher and our house was flooded with books. She taught me to read at three years old (in school they didn’t let you learn until you were six… they had, of course, to follow the programme…)

My relationship with books have changed with the years. Technology and university have damaged my habit. It seems easier to pick up the phone to check my emails or social media than opening a book (I’m ashamed of admitting this, I’m a writer myself). In uni I had to read lots of books (many of them nonsense, other very revealing though). I just couldn’t afford the time to read fiction (my true passion).

Now I don’t read as much as I would like to, but I’m more conscious than ever that I need to, because it improves my writing and feeds my imagination.

Reading at breakfast, for instance, is one of the things that give me the most pleasure in life.

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