When deciding my new year’s bookish resolutions I knew one resolution that without shadow of a doubt had to make my list: to read all the books I own but have never begun.
I seem to have accumulated a rather disconcerting pile of books over the years that languish, lonely and unopened with only dust to keep them company on my bookshelf. At last count I have a round fifty of these such books. And those are only the ones I could find. I know for a fact I have more books somewhere, all probably bemoaning their crease-less spines and their top right corners that have never been folded down.
And the thing is that I want to read these books. I really do.