Some books drill deep into the wiring of the brain. They alter thoughts and create memories, becoming part of who you are. Others books float above, never quite breaking the surface.
Whether a book connects or not is what makes reading so magical – it’s both a profoundly public business (anyone can look at the words – in a bookshop, in a library or at the click of a button) and about as private as it gets (my thoughts are mine, and mine alone). When we read, we all look at the same letters on the page but our reactions to them are very much our own.
With this in mind, I can easily see why this book would be loved by some and how, seen from a different pair of eyes, would be a moving, emotional experience but, for me, I’m afraid to say The Boy who Sailed the Ocean in an Armchair by Lara Williamson floated rather drilled deep. Continue reading