If you asked me what three items I would take onto a desert island (go on, ask me) I’d probably plump for my glasses, a lifetime supply of Diet Coke (surely that counts as one item?!) and my beloved Kindle Fire. You see, I read….a lot. And the Kindle is my way of stashing hundreds of books without Fionnuala shouting at me for the clutter around the house. Happiness is a new book on the Kindle. Assuming the island has wifi of course.
All that changed a couple of months ago when my favourite electronic device went AWOL. MIA. It vanished. At first I assumed it would turn up as misplaced items tend to do in our house. Or rather, Fionnuala would find it for me. But as the weeks passed, there was no sign of the prodigal paper substitute. I even, shock horror, started to look for it. But it had vanished. Like the Marie Celeste. Gone.
The mystery niggled at me increasingly. Searches under various pieces of furniture proved negative and I began to worry. Had I actually lost it? How could that be, given I rarely take it out of the house. I was resorting to squinting at the Kindle app on my phone. I was even considering the unthinkable, purchasing a real book. You know, with pages. Real paper pages.
My whining increased to such levels that by Christmas morning, Fionnuala had enough and took it upon herself to search for the offending item. She tutted, climbed the stairs and entered our bedroom. I followed her, safe in the knowledge I had turned the room upside down and the Kindle was not there. No way, was she making a fool of me by placing her hands on it within seconds.
She strode over to my side of the bed and began to rummage through an old briefcase where I store random bits of paperwork. Pah, I sniffed. I’ve searched there at least a dozen times. What does she take me for, some sort of buffoon. I froze as, after a cursory search, she stood up and flung the Kindle Fire in my direction. There followed a brief exchange of words, where my wife gently challenged various aspects of my intellect and wisdom.
Once this loving verbal wave had washed over me, and I’d recovered from the shame and embarrassment of being an incompetent numpty, it was as if I had received a new Christmas present. I charged up the Kindle and proceeded to surf Amazon for all sorts of cut price bargains and new releases. All at a fraction of the price I would have paid for them on the high street. Check out this lot.
- The Cruel Prince – Holly Black
- Eat, Drink, Run – Bryony Gordon
- How To Stop Time – Matt Haig
- Into The Water – Paula Hawkins
- Echoes – Laura Tisdall
- Dreamlander – K..M Weiland
- The Grey Bastards – Jonathan French
- My Thoughts Exactly – Lily Allen
All for £20! But here’s where I need your help. I still have a few Christmas shekels left. Can you recommend a book to add to my collection? My favourite genres are fantasy and dark thrillers but I’m open to all your suggestions. I also have an interest in biographies that focus on mental health and addictive behaviour. Leave your comments below. I’m looking forward to reading them all.
What books can you recommend to me?
Have you ever lost anything and it’s been under your nose all along?