My Dirty Secret

I have a dirty little secret. I am a pusher. No, not drugs before you ask, books. In fact books, reading lists and the general encouragement of people to read. Here’s some classic literature, it will improve your mind, feed your soul. Going to an auction, here’s a book on current prices for first edition children’s literature. I fully appreciate that many of the people that I give books to or witter on to about my latest read, are not that interested, but maybe it will encourage a few of them to read more. I accept that my young nieces would probably rather have a pepper pig toy for Christmas than a book. Well they will get that, but also a copy of Aesop’s fables. You’ve got to start them young, especially nowadays. I even distribute reading lists to colleagues at work. They say they are interested in receiving a copy of it, although I am not sure how much of that is motivated by their desire for me to shut up and go away. The long, short and tall of it is that, I am a pusher. A book pusher. And I am proud of it.

I have just finished ‘Twenty Three Tales’ by Leo Tolstoy. A collection of short stories on a variety of subjects, aimed at a variety of people. Some were originally intended for children, but I am not sure how suitable they would be considered today. Anyway, it was a good read and now I will move on to the plays of Sophocles. I will definitely alternate that with some genre fiction. James Patterson I think.

Tell me, are you a pusher too?