Finishing a book is a very strange, unique feeling. An oxymoronic groan in the pit of the stomach; delight in knowing the whole story, despair in having to leave the universe which, through the pages, has become three-dimensional, real in your mind. I get this a lot with books. The number of novels I finish with the decision 'I must read that again' are inumerable, and it is only very rarely that I get the time to do just that.
I promised myself, as something of an End of Year Challenge, that I would finish Year of the King before 2011 arrives, and have just managed it, with one hour and 40 minutes to spare. I am glad to say, though, that I have not rushed it - the book is compelling enough in itself - but have taken it in my own time.
This shows progress. Some time last year (that is, 2009, still) I resolutely decided to take up reading on an industrial scale. This decision wasn't as clinical and emotionless as it sounds, as I don't believe it's possible to force yourself to read things you don't want to - or, indeed, to read for the sake of reading. It was something I had considered for a while:
Having always had myself down as a very slow reader (the first proper novel I remember reading cover-to-cover, without audiobook cheating, was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, which took me three trudging but enjoyable weeks, aged 8) there had always been little desire to read a lot, until quite recently. Of course, I did read, but I wouldn't have considered it a hobby of any kind.
At this point I met my good chum Ellie, in English and form time. Initially, she hit me with the intimidating news that, during the Summer holidays she had managed to plough through the best part of 11 books (albeit of varying sizes). Gradually, as her prodigious speedy-reading continued this grew into a little bit of a joke for us - we pride ourselves on our English-based banter (which sometimes evolves into mock abuse). It was at this point, when the holidays rolled around, that I set myself the initial challenge of putting my reading to the test, and from there it became something of an addiction (as anyone who bothers to read my rambly literary waffle may have gathered) and now, here I am.
Tomorrow, or rather, next year, I go into my second year of reading recording and booklists and such things. For Christmas I recieved a dashing Book Log (which, amusingly also abbreviates into 'blog') which I look forward to using.
Now, the final thing to do is to work out my New Year's Resolutions for this year. A New Year, a new start (as no doubt countless other bloggers will be explaining) and for me this means:
1. Taking each day as it comes. Trying not to get so stressed out about things, remembering that people have gone through much worse than I am, and putting Padre's 'philosophical' view of life into effect more thoroughly.
2. Getting back on track with A-level work. Being in a bad mood is no excuse for failing exams - but not getting stressed about it, as there will be enough of that in the post-exam period. Just keep thinking about getting your own cutlery!
3. Drawing more. NOT school work related things - carry a sketchbook.
4. Organise that commonplace book; use it.
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