For as long as I can remember I have loved books; I haven’t always been as prolific a reader as I am now, I hit my real stride around the age of 14 when I discovered the beauty of the school library, however, books have still been a constant throughout my life. When I was young my parents read to me, then I upgraded to memorizing every word in a book so it ‘appeared’ that I could read, until eventually I learnt to interpret the scribbles on the page.
Unfortunately I don’t remember the names of authors from the very early stages of my childhood. There was some jam panda book that failed to teach me how to tell the time, a baby polar bear that didn’t know how to swim and a mysterious toy horse that came to life but I don’t remember any of those that well. What I do remember though is my extreme obsession with the author Continue reading