I haven’t posted a review for a few days. I’ve been re-reading. Diana Wynne Jone’s Enchanted Glass (yes, already), Phoebe Atwood Taylor’s The Hollow Chest, The Criminal COD, Punch with Care and Going, Going, Gone.
Re-reading favourite books is wonderful. It’s like slipping into a familiar luxurious world, a bit zen-like. Addictive, too.
I’ve noticed I’m far more likely to re-read fiction than I am non-fiction. I guess non-fiction is a journey of discovery. Once the facts are in my brain, I’m less inclined to want to revisit the words that communicated them. But with fiction, the words build worlds and people and I’m a return visitor.