Copied from the previous home ("My Big Fat Well-Read Wedding"):
So I’m an accountant. A 21-year-old, about to get married, bilingual-and-trying-to-learn-French trainee accountant. I used to consider myself “well-read”, but recent reflection leads me to believe this is not an appropriate descriptive. You see, I read voraciously until I was about 13. My father often complained about the cost of feeding my habit. Enid Blyton, Saddle Club, John Grisham, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, children’s classics, Greek mythology – I would read anything I could lay my little hands on. Suddenly school got in the way. Then uni did. Then my job did. And I pretty much stopped reading.
I decided that this situation must be rectified. Now. When I mentioned this to the Husband-To-Be, he chuckled and claimed this is the third time I have declared my intention to read the classics since he has known me (I’ll admit I’ve definitely said it once before – and totally failed to make any headway on the reading on that occasion). Irrationally upset by what I perceived to be mockery, I came up with A Plan.
One classic book per week, until the wedding, which is 40 and a bit weeks away. This will only work if I publicly declare my goals and my progress (regardless of whether I turn out to be talking to myself). Hence this blog. (I unashamedly draw my inspiration from the recent Julie & Julia film).
See next post for The Book Diet.