I've just been looking at my book shelf and I'm a little bit terrified; there's pretty much only thrillers, murders and mysteries in there! There are a few chick lit books; a few classic novels etc but nothing inherently happy. And no, chick lit isn't happy - it's daft drivel designed to give you a feelgood-glow for the hour or so it takes you to read it but then you're left remembering you're not in fact a heroine in a Miranda Dickinson book and you're not in fact going to be swept off your feet by a handsome rock star who also happens to be incredibly nice, generous and good with kids. And dogs. Sorry to burst your bubble there!
So what books make me happy? I suppose that's a different question altogether from 'what books do I enjoy reading?'. I'm being asked what my go-to book is when I need cheering up.
Well. Depends on the situation I suppose. But there are two answers:
- Gruesome thrillers. I suppose they remind me that really, things could always be worse.
- Victoria Hislop's The Return. It's one of those love-through-generations epic stories and I'm so pleased I read it.
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