a novel scenario

 
I will bashfully confess to being a rather picky and infrequent reader these days. Well, pretty much all of my adult life really. Uni was consumed with reading mountains of text books and beyond then, my poor brain has struggled to concentrate amid juggling all the other bits and bobs it has to think about and remember. I've become too accustomed to being interrupted by an impatient kidlet, or my hen-pecking subconscious inciting me to do something more productive. I find it hard to relax and am generally too wired to curl up with a book, having fallen into the habit over the years of fidgeting with things- the knitting, sewing or social networking. A world away from the library junkie I was in my youth.

So on our camping trip last week I did something I haven't done in so long, I can't even remember the last time it happened. I went into a bookshop. And bought a novel. For myself. Not as a present for someone else. Not a gardening guide. Not a knitting pattern. Not a dusty old Penguin Classic from a charity shop, purchased because the cover was pretty. An actual, real, recently published novel for myself. To read.

I browsed discerningly amongst the shelves for some time, wrinkling my nose at the bubble-gum pink, cupcake or handbag-embossed covers, that seem to be aimed at women my age. Raised an eyebrow at numerous shadow-written autobiographies of people I'd vaguely heard of. Dismissed others for looking rather too earnest to read on a beach holiday. Eventually I selected a book that appeared to be a happy medium between serious literature and feminine appeal.

I absolutely loved the book I chose- I am no critic, but I can guarantee if you are looking for a fantastic, clever, subtle, humorous, heart-warming and riveting read, you will not be disappointed. It contains two interwoven story lines- one set in 1950s Soho and the other in modern day North London. As the plot unravels, the gentle hints dotted around the chapters begin to piece together, but it is only towards the end that it becomes fully apparent how the stories are connected, finishing with a remarkable twist. I was in tears at least three times throughout reading this book and I could not count the number of times I laughed out loud. It was utterly charming and I cannot wait to read more of Maggie O'Farrell's work.

So I do believe I am a converted bookworm. Would anyone like to recommend me a book to read next- old or new, anything brilliant will do...