Reading - Rediscovered

A black and white image of abstract lines on an icy puddle.
Abstract lines in an icy puddle.

In winter, I hibernate. I become an indoorsy person, saving up all my energy to release in one long burst over spring, summer, and autumn.

Between the ages of five and seventeen, I read around five books a week. Then, through my twenties and thirties, I could barely read at all. I thought it was ADHD-related, or HSC-related (having-small-children-related), or both. But when I finished writing my own book last November my drive, and ability to read simply returned. Maybe I had to make space for anything else.

Now, reading is one of my favoured indoor activities, and lately, I’ve been devouring books.

I caught up on some modern classics.

I thought The Secret History was about 30% too long, with weak character development. By the end, I felt I had not learned anything about the characters, the world or myself. That said, Donna Tartt writes beautifully.

Atonement is brilliantly written, especially the war sections, which were horrifying and deeply moving but I didn’t love the ending. It felt contrived and actually trivialized the story.

It took me a while to get used to what I felt was clunky prose in Never Let Me Go, but as the book wore on, I found myself enjoying it more and more. Of the three, this was my favourite. I love sci-fi that explores life itself, rather than getting bogged down in the details and processes of a strange new world.

I also read some recent memoirs by women.

The Argonauts blends philosophical theory with memoir but probably not in the way you’d expect. I loved this book, especially the memoir side of it, but the two elements work incredibly well together. Maggie Nelson uses both to examine parts of society that need to be examined. I love the way she thinks and writes and it's hard to do this book justice in a short review. It's warm, open and simply invites you to see the world more clearly.

I was recommended A Flat Place by a friend who saw parallels between Noreen Masud’s book and my own. I was instantly fascinated. I, too, am drawn to flat places. I grew up amidst The Flow Country (considered the the most outstanding example of a blanket bog ecosystem in the world) in Caithness, the flattest of places. This is memoir blended with nature writing, but not in the usual pristine, sanitised and whitewashed way. It’s expertly written, and Masud is incredibly generous in the way she lets us into her life and experiences.

The Last Days gripped me from the start. I recognised so much of my own life in Ali Millar’s book—not just because I, too, was once a Jehovah’s Witness in a small Scottish Borders town, but because the pull towards chaos and oblivion that Millar felt, and writes about so well, is something I deeply understand. I also really appreciated the precision and directness of Ali's writing.

I am currently reading The Wager by David Grann.

This book reads like historical fiction, but it’s entirely non-fiction. The author weaves a strong, compelling narrative from real lives and words of the past. I was surprised by how much it pulled me in, not just the story, but the gritty, vivid details of life at sea (and on land as castaways) in 1740. The descriptions of landscape, flora, and fauna are striking too, taken straight from period journals. The book is also a perfect example of how fact is often stranger than fiction (see The War of Jenkins' Ear). Throughout, I appreciate Grann's willingness to acknowledge the horrors of colonialism, a rare stance for books of this type.


I have vivid memories of reading as a kid. Our library visit was scheduled for grocery day, so we’d return home laden with books and snacks. Shoes off, straight to the kitchen to make a ham and coleslaw sandwich, cutting each slice of bread as thick as Tolstoy’s magnum opus.

Then, up to my room, balancing a plate, a pint of orange juice (with bits), and a stack of books. I’d read, occasionally remembering to eat, until eventually falling asleep on the floor.

It’s pretty wonderful to be back to a version of that, just with much thinner slices of bread, ‘fake’ ham, and a posturepedic backrest.


Thanks for reading. I appreciate you being here.

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