I’ve recently read a lot of non-fiction, and I’ve been loving the small break away from what could be called my “usual” selection of darkly intense characters and situations! The shift happened after an afternoon in the pub with Sarah (@WBites) who started telling me about all the hilarious autobiographies she had been reading on her holiday. I left the pub feeling like I was missing out on something awesome by not really reading non-fiction. I wanted to dip my toe in!
However, there was a bit of a snag: I don't really take much interest in "celebrity lives", all the latest critically accliamed shows are still waiting for me on Netflix/Tivo, and I watch Youtube for about 10 minutes a month - usually to check out how good a band is live. For a woman in my 20's, I'm pretty old! What was I going to read? WHO was I going to read?! I approached autobiographies with trepidation: if I bought one, would I know what the author was on about half the time? How meta would their book be? Would it matter I hadn’t had much experience of their other work? Could I read and enjoy their books if I just thought they were pretty cool on Twitter?!
Turns out, I flippin’ well can.