I’ve had a strange reading year.
Last year’s influx of classics has dwindled to three (though one of them was War and Peace so, ya know); the YA reading has taken a nose-dive; and the non-fiction and memoirs have gone through the roof. I’ve also indulged in some glorious re-reading.
Since I began blogging in 2009 re-reading was something that I felt I wasn’t allowed to do. I had too many review copies, I had a reading schedule, I had goals and challenges I needed to meet. But this year it’s all changed.
Of the 47 books I’ve finished as of writing this, 7 of them have been re-reads: the last five Harry Potter books which I reveled in listening to on audiobook for the first time and then the first two books in Sarah J Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses trilogy in time for the finale. And it was glorious.
The sheer joy of re-discovering and falling in love with books I either know I’ll always love or ones I had adored the first time around was so nice. Re-reading is the epitome of stress-free and pleasure reading.
I enjoyed it so very much that I’ve vowed to re-read whenever the urge strikes me. It takes me right back to being a kid and a young teenager who would finish a book I loved and start it all over again immediately. Some books I would read every month, every other, every year, completely guilt free and loving every second of it.
More of that, please.