I did that thing where I was stealing minutes from everything else to read it.
I had twenty seven pages left to read when I woke up yesterday morning. So I read it while I made breakfast, I read it while I ate breakfast, and then I read it while I was getting dressed. Swapping the book from my left to my right hand while I threaded my arms through the sleeves of my t-shirt and then my jersey.
So thanks to this book I was a) late for work yesterday, and b) not particularly stylishly dressed.
Needless to say, it’s a very compelling story.
(Her other stuff is great too, if you’re looking for an author you can really get into.)
Being desperate to finish reading it eventhough there was somewhere I needed to be reminded me of something that’s very important to me:
Books that make you stay up way past your bedtime, books that make you late for work, books that make you dress badly, books that make you laugh out loud, books that make your fingertips go pruney in the bath – those are the kinds of books I not only want to read, but those are the ones I try to write, too.