Tucked up cosily in my bed, delving into a good book, it suddenly struck me just how personal an activity reading actually is. We sit alone in a quiet space and lose ourselves in the world the author has created. Some of us read during the day on our favourite armchair; others head out into the arms of Mother Nature to rest upon our favourite tree while others, like me, can only truly immerse themselves in their reading when it takes place late at night when the day has slowed to a peaceful lull.
Best of all, each and every person can and so often does take something entirely different from the same book. Two people could read an identical story yet identify and relate to completely different themes and ideas found within and as odd as it seems to think that someone will utterly loathe your most beloved books, the saying that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure is no more prevalent than when in reference to literature.
This is where the concept of reading being personal comes full circle however and why platforms like blogging are so wonderful, as once we finish the last page and close the book on a very solitary endeavour, we can then connect with others and share our views if we so desire, engaging in discussion and debate, allowing us formally lonesome bookworms to transform into social butterflies in a wholly and beautifully inclusive way.