I can understand why people don’t like to read. Recently, I had to read a book that was as enjoyable as going to the dentist for a root canal. I won’t say what book it was, or why I had to read it. It was just a terrible experience, and one that I have to go through every now and again. A pitfall of the job, so to speak. It’s obviously not the worst thing — #firstworldproblems #ilovemyjob — and I am since over it, but I think if that was the one book I picked up in years, I wouldn’t question why I don’t enjoy reading.
In my head, I divide books into experiences. Some are as delightful as a good nap, a warm bath or a comfort food dish (pasta). Others are a brisk awakening shower, a satisfying jump scare thrill, a well-researched doccie or a nourishing, wholesome meal (lentils). Others are unfortunately like washing dishes, and sometimes dental/gynae visits.
Now I’m in the middle of a satisfying salty, crunchy snack. I was actually excited last night when load-shedding kicked in as I had a book I was looking forward to reading. It’s called The Hike written by Lucy Clarke. Last year she wrote One of The Girls, a psychological thriller about a bachelorette weekend gone wrong, which did really well on the best-seller charts. This one is similar in that it is about a few women friends who go on a trip. In The Hike they are childhood BFFs Maggie, Liz, Helena & Joni, who yearly go on a vacation together. Liz gets to pick this year and she decides that she needs a big adventure as she is going through a trial separation with her husband Patrick. She remembers the school project that the four friends did years ago, the Norwegian mountain, Blafjell, they focused on and drew a poster about (aah, the simple days of school projects) and decides that is what they are going to do. The other three, though not happy about hiking and climbing a mountain, agree.
Bad things happen — a woman is killed, they’re being followed by someone sinister and a storm is brewing. All edge of the seat stuff but easy, pleasurable reading. I munched through it in two load-shedding stints.
Now what to read next? In a similar vein is Girls Of Little Hope by Sam Beckbessinger and Dale Halvorsen. This is Beckbessinger’s first novel. Her first book Manage Your Money Like a F*cking Grown-Up: The Best Money Advice You Never Got is still on the top SA charts and is a major best-seller.
Blurb: “Three girls went into the woods. Only two came back, covered in blood and with no memory of what happened. Being fifteen is tough, tougher when you live in a boring-ass small town like Little Hope, California (population 8,302) in 1996. Donna, Rae and Kat keep each other sane with the fervour of teen girl friendships, zine-making and some amateur sleuthing into the town’s most enduring mysteries: a lost gold mine, and why little Ronnie Gaskins burnt his parents alive a decade ago.”
On a very sad note, I have read some of the heartfelt tributes flowing in for Eusebius McKaiser. His death on Tuesday is still a major shock. I want to add my sincere condolences to his family and friends. One of the many things I so admired about Eusebius was his passion for books, for reading, for uplifting our local authors and highlighting their works, and for sharing his wisdom and intellect. He was a true advocate and champion for the South African book industry. He will be greatly missed.
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