So my reading, instead of getting more conservative, settled or narrowed into a particular channel as most things do with age, is widening. Up to only a couple of years ago I limited what I read to exclude pretty much any genre fiction and any non-fiction. I stuck mostly to contemporary American fiction, and while there is much territory to explore within that, I was depriving myself of so much. It was only after taking a deep breath and asking for a list of sci-fi reads on a distant, forgotten corner of the blogosphere – and actually liking some of the choices – that I realised reading, for me, serves many purposes. Before, I was only getting one taste; after, I realised I could wring so much more out of books. Now, sometimes I read purely for entertainment. Sometimes for relaxation. Sometimes I want the book to excite me. Sometimes I want the worldly truth. Sometimes I want writing to exercise my brain. Sometimes I simply thirst just for the right words. Sometimes I want inspiration to fuel my own writing. Very rarely – if ever – have I read to relate. I don’t buy into that whole argument. Drama and strangeness are injected into most writing to give it a jolt of interest so I don’t see how this is possible. On the other hand, it might be pointing towards my own colour on the autism spectrum. Another source for opening up my reading comes from having kids, looking out onto the open, reflective fact that everyone and everything should be well rounded. So this blog will be a space for me to think about writing. A place to hoist up my own writing. And the books I will review will take in everything, with one caveat: If I can’t get into a book, I will cast it aside. So all the books reviewed here must have some force to have swept me through the length of it.