All posts filed under: Reading

On Procrastination

The very first concept plan for The Paperbook Collective, circa June 2013 It feels surreal to be finally putting together the contents page for Issue Eight of The Paperbook Collective, but that is what I am doing this morning. This issue has sat in pieces for so long that it became the elephant in the computer – that one massive project that I have consistently avoided over the past six months. But now that I have dived into it again it is coming together as though not a moment has passed. I’m sure there is some lesson on procrastination in there but I will studiously avoid that for now. There are some incredible pieces of work in Issue Eight. I was distracted for hours last night reading through them all, caught up in each one as I scrolled through the pages. And each piece is so vastly different, which is exactly what I was aiming for when I begun this crazy project 15 long months ago. So much has changed in my life in that …

Support Your Local Bookstore – No One Else Is Going To.

I hope you will bear with me while I do a little shameless self-promotion. For those of you who have made your way to the end of Issue Six of The Paperbook Collective, you may have already read my piece on the slow demise of the humble book store. For those of you who haven’t had time yet to sit down with the latest issue, I would like to share my story with you in preparation for the first project I am tackling in 2014. I spoke briefly about it in my post about Reading My Christmas Tree and other 2014 challenges, and I received some excellent advice and links to follow up from some of my fellow bloggers. The following piece will explain what it’s all about ~ __________________________________________________ I’ve always loved to read. Even before I could read, I loved to read. When I was a toddler my favourite book in the world was my Little Golden Books copy of The Little Red Caboose. My parents would read it to me every night, …

2013 – Year of The Paperbook Collective.

Often at this time of year, these crazy few days between Christmas and New Year, I feel a little worn down and dejected. I often feel overwhelmed at the thought that another year has passed, worried that I didn’t get much achieved, disappointed that I am no nearer to figuring out exactly what I want to do with my life. This time last year I was struggling through the start of my university degree, finding it difficult to complete even one unit at a time. I was working in a dead end waitress job in a café, hating the fact that I was twenty-five and still working 40 hours a week on minimum wage. But more than that, I hated the fact that I could see no way out of this mess of a life, no way of figuring out my dreams let alone pursuing them. New Years Eve was spent with good friends, but I can’t honestly say that I enjoyed myself. I felt like a failure, I felt embarrassed, I felt as though …

Books are making me fat.

I love food. No, I mean, I really love food. And boy, does food love me. We have what I’m sure a lot of psychiatrists would call an ‘unhealthy relationship’. It’s generally all or nothing with us. I am the kind of person who could happily go a month without eating chocolate, only to sit down on the 32nd day and demolish an entire block. I often wish I could be like those people who can eat one or two squares a day, in fact, I try this with almost every block of chocolate I buy. I rationalise, I reason, I hide it in different places in the kitchen in the vain hope that I will forget where I hid it. Not a chance. It’s not just chocolate though. I can pig out on pretty much anything you can throw at me. A bowl of fruit has no chance in my house, it’s cleaned out within a day. Leftovers? Breakfast. Dried seaweed? The same. I think that most of this problem, ok, fine, all of this problem, stems …