It’s always the books people lend me that are the books I fall in love with the most.
This book is one of those books that, out of all, I love the most.
It has patiently sat on my shelf for a good few weeks (dare I say months?) and – finally – after getting through my first term of university, I have managed to read for fun – and this book was it! It helped me love reading even more, and get back to it. It was a swift and fast paced read; everything was just so magical but in the sense that it was still so relateable to the real and portrayed real life events throughout the narrative, but hints of fantasy were inherent throughout but only in the most subtlest of ways. Do not let this put you off.
I really enjoyed reading about the main protagonist’s, Elly’s, narrative most when she was reflecting on her childhood which takes up the first half of the book. It has that To Kill A Mockingbird feel to it as she writes and relates back to her past. When she grows up I found it difficult to disengage with her childhood voice and kept having to remind myself that now Elly was an adult – but for a child to have that strong a narrative voice that’s surely promising something good, isn’t it?
I really loved this book, I loved it so much I allowed the pages to get worn and the spine to gently break; it deserves to look loved because, although the copy I read wasn’t officially mine, I loved it indefinitely, and I think I will for a long time.
Being a university student, I don’t get to see my family as often as I always used to, and whenever I come home they always beg me not to leave. Last night was no exception, apart from the only one begging me to stay was my Dad, and for a change not my sisters. That is because they knew there was a surprise in store for our Dad the very next morning – and I was a part of it.
So last night I drove home (listening to Harry Potter all the way home, driving like a maniac when the knight bus soundtrack came on). And this morning, when my sister text me to say my Dad had gone out to the beach for a couple hours, I raced over as fast as I could, cat basket in hand and about nine carrier bags full of presents stuffed into my car!
I, too, was about to become a live and human present for my Dad. He didn’t think I was coming home until Christmas Eve, so this was the ultimate gift!
Here’s me, all wrapped up: an early Christmas present:
I curled into a ball and lay still on the floor for approximately 30 minutes until he arrived home.
“You have to open it now, Dad. It needs to be opened today,” they said while I lay wrapped in paper, and still. “I can’t open it now,” he said, “it’s not Christmas! I’ll open it on Christmas Day”. Then came a lot of loud protest, and I felt him edge towards my wrapped up form. Then, slowly, and carefully, he started tearing the paper and I stifled giggles and deep breaths!
When he finally saw it was me and spied my floral pink dress and dark ebony hair beneath all the wrappings he started laughing and I jumped up and wished him a merry christmas!
Afterwards, he told me it was the best Christmas gift ever.
I am sadly without my laptop for a few days, and right before Christmas too! Christmas time for writers is like Christmassy bliss, where you can get all cosy-ed up in front of the fire or in your bed with a hot water bottle, and drink hot chocolate with your mind full of exploding ideas that practically just leak out of your head.
I’m writing this right now, on my mother’s laptop while I’m sat beside the Christmas tree in her little house. (Because it is so very little).
Meanwhile, my laptop is sat alone unsupervised. It is alone because I’ve left it for my boyfriend to attend to, he wants to write too and we’re sharing a laptop right now. Until he gets one for Christmas.
Oh, please Christmas hurry. Hurry soon.
I am a writer and I crave to write.