Book Review: Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

This novel popped up on my radar thanks to two people: my mum and Reese Witherspoon. My mum is an avid follower of Hello Sunshine, Witherspoon’s bookclub, and just an avid reader in general. And, when Where the Crawdads Sing was reviewed by Reese in September 2018, my mum added this hardback onto her Christmas list. After…

Bookish thoughts: my May reading wrap up

I love getting lost in a good book. In fact, in May’s 31 days, I got lost in 6 books. So, I decided to pen a few thoughts on each of these books. If you’re in the mood for some reading recommendations, then keep reading! City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert  It’s 1940 and Vivian…

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As you’ll all be aware, I LOVE books. Whether they’re long, short, fat, thing, imaginary or factual, I love them. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been uploading a few book reviews onto my blog, but I wanted to deliver my thoughts and opinions about my bookish friends straight to your inbox. Each month,…

Books I want & why

UPDATE: I have cancelled my Troubled Blood pre-order. I don’t think this needs any further explanation. Is there a better sound than the thud of a book on the doormat as it’s launched through a letterbox on the day of its release? …I didn’t think so. Recently, I’ve been a bit pre-order friendly when it…

Book review: Swing Time by Zadie Smith

At the start of the year, I wanted to diversify my reading. I’m an obsessive reader who gets into readings ruts and will re-read from the same genre until the end of time. I know this about myself, so I wanted to challenge my own cliches and broaden my reading horizon. A few authors –…

When solidarity becomes unity

A family narrative through the act of reading I love books. I love their crisp white pages, that weirdly aromatic new-book smell and the etchings of black ink. I love their yellow sun-kissed edges, the cracks in the spine, and the well thumbed through corners. I can’t exactly remember when I started loving these inanimate…

Always meet your heroes

There were two holes in my tights, right on my thighs. They were those big holes, you know, the ones were the strings of fabric run across the tights gaping abyss.  They felt punk. It was perfect. Paired with my trusty Doc Martens, reflective gold skirt, black aviator jacket, red lipstick and a beret, I…