My Literary DNA

I was lucky enough to spend the last week in Kefalonia, Bookaholics, and would usually take this chance to regale you with sun-soaked anecdotes and raucous reviews of the very best books I devoured poolside. But the night before I came home, my mum was taken into hospital, and I’ve been in pieces ever since. As I type I am on what seems like the longest plane journey ever heading home to see her and I just cannot concentrate on my Kindle. So instead I thought I would tell you all about my mother, what an inspiration she is, and her role in my love of literature.

As a small child I was always surrounded by books and that was entirely my mum’s influence. From the cloth-bound Enid Blyton texts that came directly from her own childhood to the curious clutches of my sister and I, to the tightly texted classics with paper thin pages I was always scared of ripping, reading was a revered activity. As long as I’ve known her (and that’s been quite a while to be fair) she has always had a novel on the go, so the apple did not fall far from the literary tree. I was encouraged to read anything and everything. I think the only time we ever disagreed over appropriate material was when I borrowed a romance book from the library at the age of 12 – mum absolutely did not approve. In fairness she had a point – boys complicate things enough when you’re an adult, it’s worth living as an innocent for as long as you can.

These days I am thrilled to report that I have become her lending library and that she actively encourages me to broaden her horizons. Her excitement when I introduce her to a new author is palpable and nothing makes me happier. Mum’s favourite new writer is Matt Cain and she has thrilled to each new book I’ve shared with her. Despite her 80-odd years of age she still wants to know more about the world and understand the people in it. She is proactively role-modeling the person I want to be as I grow older.

I am currently somewhere over Italy watching the lights twinkle below me and thinking about tomorrow when I plan to give her the biggest hug and never let go. She may be 50% of my genetic makeup, but more importantly she is 100% of my literary DNA. Without her influence who knows if I ever would have found my love of books. It’s just one small thing I will always be grateful for amongst so many. I am blessed, Bookaholics, and I will never forget that.