For those of you who have been reading my blog for a long time, you will know I have a bit of a thing about books.

I read.

Obviously, even if you’ve been reading for a short time, you will know this from the fact that I read so many books last year on holiday. But, if you’ve been reading for some time (and by that I mean years), you will also know that I also have a thing about other people and their reading habits.

So, when my niece (really V’s niece but she still calls me Uncle Andy) was young, I used to let her read to me. She loved it and every time we would go up to his parents’ house, she would rush to show me her latest book from school and sit on my knee and read away. They were not a “reading family” and I think it was the only time, outside school, that she read to anyone. We used to go up there every Saturday, so it was a weekly thing between Ay and me. It was important for me too. I felt that I had to try to instil into her a love of reading, even if I was going against the tide.

Then, there was the time, after V, when I went on my “hunt” for a new man and ended up going to see this guy in Venice (he with the wrinkly elbows) and the most noticeable thing about his place was that there were no books! And that was certainly one of the deal-breakers.

It’s a strange thing really because none of my long-term partners have ever been big readers. V had only read a couple of books in his whole life! F doesn’t really read a lot (he’s more “visual”).

And, yet, I put a lot of store in reading.

When I was a kid, although it’s a long time ago and I don’t remember exactly, my parents would read to us (my sister and I) regularly. If I remember correctly, it was every night, when they put us to bed. As we got older and had separate rooms, the reading stopped but by then I had the “habit” and collected books which my parents bought for me. I had hundreds and read each one more than once. I recall one book that I had given to me when I was about 12. It was called Lone Wolf. It was too difficult for me and I couldn’t read it. I was quite upset that I found it too difficult. But, a couple of years later, I was old enough and read it. Since then I have been one of those people that simply has to finish a book, even if I find that I don’t like it as I read it.

So, it was not a particular surprise to read this piece about reading habits and how they are “passed down”, in general.

If I had ever had kids, I would certainly read to them every night until they were sufficiently adept enough to be reading on their own.

There’s nothing better than a good book to read, even if new technology seems to make books redundant. And that’s quite sad – not for me but for those youngsters who don’t learn (for it is a learnt thing) how to read and enjoy a book.