Twenty years since the summer the Spice Girls landed. That’s a number that festers! I still remember that summer so well.
I loved the Spice Girls. When Wannabe came out, my sisters and I watched the music TV channel, The Box, non-stop. We even knew the three-digit code that showed someone has just called to hear Wannabe and got excited. I was twelve. The girls had a better excuse – they were six and five.
In my last post, I shared how profound the impact reading has on my life. I truly believe a book is the greatest gift a girl can have on her journey to being a woman, a grown-up, a functioning adult in society. Whatever that is?
I have decided to share with you, some of the books that have truly helped me, informed me, educated me, made me think about what I want from life, how I can serve and most of all, entertained me.
It’s not an exhaustive list. I’ll probably press publish and kick myself because I have forgotten one. I have also read an awful lot of crap. Some enjoyable crap and some, just a waste of time, crap. I know I’m not going to win the respect of literary minds saying this, but I have enjoyed Catherine Cookson sagas, teenage romantic fiction, mid-twenties romantic fiction and a mixed bag of titles we have attempted at book club.
Judging people by what they read is a pointless act anyway. It’s so personal to them. What I take from a book is quite different from what they lady opposite me on the train might take from the very same book. We would disagree on what we imagine the characters look like and what they sound like. We will make our own judgements on how we enjoyed the writing – straight to the point or lingering prose. We will feel different emotions for the characters. I might think someone had their misfortune coming, where the train conductor reading on his break might feel more sympathy. Our own experiences colour our interpretation of the words on the pages and bring them to life in a unique way. My life is reflected in some of what I have read and sometimes what I read shapes my life.
So much of what is good in my life I owe to books. Girl with personal blog reads books. Not a huge revelation really. I don’t have a cat, though! Got you there! My husband owns more books that I do. My best friend works in publishing. My book club girls are my gin-drinking buddies. Books lead me to what I truly love.
I remember when I learned to read ‘on the inside’, as my mum put it. Not having to be read to and not having to read aloud changed everything. I could read anytime, anywhere. Even when Coronation Street is on! Around that time, I would have been into Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl. The Worst Witch and Charlotte’s Web. When I was little and it was a ‘mum’ Saturday I would get something new to read in town. As a treat, I would go to James Thins but usually, I went to the library.
The first in a series, Girlhood.
If there is an age in life that most of us would not want to repeat, it is likely to be 14. Awkward, slouching, uncomfortable 14.
At lunchtimes, I would go to my Gran and Grandad’s house. It was convenient having them at the other side of the school gates. There was just the small matter of getting through the gates first. School gates were the domain of other girls. Smoking girls. Girls with lads. Girls wearing foundation. It was like walking through the lionesses’ den.