Why am I such an idiot? (Only answer that if you’re going to be nice to me.)
I’ve been getting too carried away with reviewing, and doing so as close to the publication date as I can, feeing stupidly unhelpful when I post a review six or twelve months afterwards. I tell myself no one objects to a review of their book, whenever it happens. But you know, I’m good on guilt.
So, with a view to changing my behaviour, I stared at my TBR piles, and thought ‘I’ll begin with all my favourites or books I know for certain will be top notch.’ How that will go is anyone’s guess, but for today, my sixth birthday, I am indulging in Hilary McKay. I have been stringing her darling Casson books out for far too long. I shall binge!
For someone who as a child would neither save her sweets nor share them with others, I don’t know why I’m not bingeing all the time. (I suppose I do. I’m an idiot.)
Before my interview with Debi Gliori a few years ago, I Strega-binged over a relatively short time, to make sure I had read all the Pure Dead books; the better to interrogate her.
And thinking back to that happy spring, I don’t reckon I’ve suffered any ill effects.
Perhaps I don’t need to dole out a book per annum when I happen to have some lovely stashes of ‘I know I will love these’ books?
Hilary today, and then who knows?
Although I am aware that some new favourites might have gone undiscovered if I’d only stuck to certainties. I shall have to improvise. Old books, new books. Anything that’s good.
I’ve been feeling a bit blue. I will treat myself to a four-author book event later today, and that snow had better not get in my way!!!