The adventure is the unknown

A new year of reading challenges beckons:) too many and, really, some years do I have enough time? If I was sensible I would pick just the one challenge, say the Goodreads challenge, and pick a reasonable number of books to read in a year, say 52 books. One a week is do-able even if stuff happens.

I am not sensible.

Not when it comes to reading.

I suffer delusions of ‘I control my Life’.

So how did I go with the 2014 challenges? I managed 90 books that I recorded, I have a feeling I missed a couple but last January was so long ago. The books I read can be found on Goodreads, see sidebar button of congratulations.

Going through the books I have roughly sorted them and it is clear it wasn’t a year totally of escapism.

Of course it wasn’t.

What did I expect?

  I was re-jigging home and garden, trying to get my novel on track and endeavoring to improve my health. Last year  was very much about research and non- fiction took nearly half the total up. If Urban fantasy is added to fantasy, magic realism and the books with animals as narrators I was escaping the stash clearances! I did meet the challenge for books about animals or with animal in the title but most of them were also about research  although  fiction. Fiction did take top place though, but only just. Maybe this year will be less research driven and more relaxed:) I haven’t broken it down any further such as re-reads, ebooks and the like.  I will try and do better this year.

TBR pile                   = 57
Non Fiction             = 42
Fiction                      = 48
Animals                    = 10
Urban Fantasy        = 2
Magic realism          = 7
Fantasy                     = 7
Authors new to me = 42 (22 Non fiction writers and 20 fiction writers)

That last was a resounding success. I love to read authors I have not come across before.

Exciting and full of anticipation.

A new gem.

The possibility of another favourite.

It is easy to read the comfort food, but the adventure is traveling to the unknown. It pleases me that I can still venture. Maybe my traveling days in reality have been buried under aging heart muscles and inflamed joints – creeping old age can be a nuisance – maybe trains and planes no longer beguile

but . . .

this old woman still loves a challenge.

Will I be sensible this year?

Nah!

Not where books are concerned.

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