So far this summer, the UK has provided a baffling triptych of wind, rain and sun. Dark clouds follow blue skies and barbecue invites draw a snigger. Whatever the weather, one thing we can always rely on is a great book to take us to faraway places, allow new ideas to surface, and inspire us throughout the season.
As regular readers have probably already have gathered, I’m 35 weeks pregnant and reckon I’ve read more books in this concentrated period of time that I ever did at school or university put together. I have quite a bookish character, plus I’m a writer, so I guess it’s my natural response to want to ‘study’ pregnancy and parenting in written form.
A few years ago I took to the habit of buying a book wherever I go when I travel. I try as much as I can to buy novels written by native authors, and in most countries you can find literature in English for those few stranded tourists who’ve run out of their own stash.
The act of (sweaty) bodies combined, and the attempt to share a life with someone you love, are among the most all-consuming elements of our existence. In homage to this compulsion, over the years artists have penned countless songs, and committed reams of ink to paper, trying to capture the PERFECT love story.