As a child, I read like other people would breathe. The bookshop has always been one of my favourite places. I was a quick reader and would read pretty much anything. The habit stayed with me through my teenage years although my preferences excluded horror and anything too post-apocalyptic or dystopian. A friend of mine once explained his aversion to horror movies by explaining how he watched films to escape from real life and come back feeling a bit better – not worse, which is how he would feel after horror films, and I feel the same about books. Continue reading “Twenty-Six Pages In, or How I Got My Mojo Back” →