I lost my reading mojo. Somewhere between May and August. I knew it was just a blip but it bothered me. There is something comforting about driving the school run with a book in my bag, knowing, if I’m early, I get to read a few pages. Or, on an evening whilst my husband is flicking through the channels, I can put my feet up and immerse myself in someone else’s life for a bit.
But I didn’t have that desire to read. And it really bothered me.
I was in the final stages of editing my own novel, getting it ready to send to my agent. I like to think that’s why I lost my desire to read a book. Or maybe my habits were changing. I’d read short essays, articles, blog posts on my phone instead of the longer commitment needed for book reading.
Then September arrived. The mornings were a little cooler. The fire was lit in the evening. And the book reading urge hit me square between the eyes. But I’d been out of the loop so long where should I start?