Things to Read

I sometimes feel that in a world where most of our businesses exist on social media, we can be reduced to just being about one thing in the hopes of pleasing the algorithm. I only post about flowers. All day, every day, my feed is flowers, my stories are flowers, and until now, even my website has been flowers.

But believe it or not, as much as I love flowers—and as much as they feel like part of my identity—I do have other interests. Books being one of those things.

I really got into reading as a conscious decision to cut down my screen time. I feel like phones have stolen so much from us, time being the biggest thing. I wanted to get to the end of the year and be able to measure my time in something tangible, not just stare in horror at the minutes I’d spent scrolling. So, I took up reading. And for the last two years, I’ve managed to hit my goal of reading 60 books a year. Not only do I feel like I’ve achieved something, but it also feeds a part of me that’s been missing since my teens.

I spent a lot of my time growing up on my own, absorbed in things my friends and family didn’t really care about—mainly music and movies. Every Monday after school, I’d head straight to Woolworths on the high street of my small town in Northern Ireland to buy the latest singles on cassette, and later, CD. I loved seeing the different artwork, collecting the ones that came with a free poster or a hidden music video that could be played on the PC.

Visiting bookshops has given me that feeling back—the collector in me, someone who wants to get the latest thing. I listen to book podcasts, read articles about upcoming releases, and get excited about the stories I’m going to discover. And now, working in such a visual industry, I get completely absorbed in book covers—color combinations, typography, design choices. Sometimes I even go as far as checking if the US cover is better and holding off on reading a book until my next trip to the States. I realize that’s a bit extra, but running a business like mine means spending a lot of time alone. I need things to get excited about, things to fill my mind, to stop me from realising I’m on day ten of seeing no one but my partner when he gets back from London each evening.

So, with all that said, I thought I’d share some of my favorite books from the past couple of years—this new passion I’ve discovered in the pages of fiction. I only read fiction. My partner says my genre is ‘suburban misery.’ What can I say? If a book doesn’t make me cry, I feel like I’ve been cheated.