Yesterday I finished Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. In many ways, this has been the story which has market my journey through London. It took two years to finish the damn thing, encompassing 3 homes, 2 jobs, and countless tube journeys.

I don’t think I’ve spent so long continually with the same set of characters. it was quite an amazing experience – even if my crush on one character did expand the bounds of what might be considered healthy.

But as someone who has always loved to read, it struck me recently how often we view the world through books. It teaches and drives us sometimes, and can even form facets of our character. I’f love to have a piece of fiction published one day, but the trouble is I just don’t think I’m that good a writer. I don’ think my stories weave that magical fabric of imagination the way other authors can – whether it’s set in a mystical fantasy land or Manhattan.

I’d had enough after these two years of epic battles and fantasy, so I opted as some sort of mental palette cleanser to read ‘Something Blue’, as I’ve always had a secret enjoyment of the film ‘Something Borrowed’ and wanted to find out what happens next.

In an odd way, I sometimes find those ‘dismissed’ stories the biggest teachers. The literary world might brush them under the carpet as ‘chick lit’, but when a character is forced through emotional or even self indulgent behaviour it somehow teaches me to do better.

And given what’s happening right now, I will do better.


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